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"There's still half a year left before the contract is up. I'm getting ready to file for a divorce from Steven." As Celine Harlow speaks, she looks at the video which has been replayed on her iPad over a hundred times. In the video, her husband, Steven Kirk, keeps staring at his childhood sweetheart, Quinn Lambert, lovingly. "Oh, Quinn! I still can't forget about you at all! Will you please return to my side?" After that, he takes the initiative to capture Quinn's lips in a kiss. Meanwhile, Celine's son, Zane Kirk, whom she has risked her life giving birth to, keeps screaming at the top of his lungs, "Daddy, I want Quinn as my mommy!" Celine's resolve to leave her marriage behind is steeled even more. On the other end of the line, Steven's mother, Evelyn Kennedy, falls silent for a moment. She then advises Celine to think through her decision carefully. "You have to think this through. If you get divorced, not only will you have to give up on your current job, but you also won't be able to obtain any assets because of the contract." Celine doesn't hesitate at all. "I know. Since our marriage certificate is fake, I'll definitely get divorced without asking for a single cent. Don't worry." But Evelyn tries to get Celine to stay. "If you insist on getting a divorce, you won't get the custody over Zane. Are you sure you have the heart to never see him again?"

Five years after our son was born, I finally faced the truth: my wife didn't love me—or our boy. Determined to end this miserable marriage, I made plans to leave and take our son with me. But fate had other ideas. A car accident cost me a kidney and took our son's eye. At my lowest point, my usually distant wife fell to her knees right in the hospital corridor, begging for forgiveness. She swore she would spend the rest of her life taking care of us. We decided to give her one last chance—a 100-day trial. If she made it, we'd stay together. But on the ninety-ninth day, my son and I overheard her talking to the attending physician. "Emma," the doctor said, "did you really arrange that accident to secure organs for Daniel Carter's son? You did that to take a kidney from your husband and an eye from your son—was it worth it?" Emma Evans's voice was eerily calm. "It was worth it. As long as Daniel is happy, I'd do anything." "And what if your husband and son find out?" She fell silent for a moment, then instinctively touched the wedding ring on her hand. "Then they'll never know. They just want a family; I'll do everything I can to make up for it." So the "changed woman" we thought we knew was just an act—a carefully built lie. The happiness my son and I had begun to believe in was nothing more than a story she'd crafted to protect the person she really loved. Every kindness, every effort—it had all been quietly weighed and paid for in advance.

Everyone believed Ethan Cross loved Isabella Winters to his core, but nobody knew he'd already found an Isabella look-alike to keep him company through the lonely nights. Even when Isabella recovered, he continued his affair. Little did he know that Isabella's recovery was temporary—within two months, she would lose every memory she'd ever made. After that, she would forget Ethan completely, and her love for him would be erased forever.

Ich war ein Mädchen aus dem Slum, das sich in Damon Vitale verliebte – den gefürchtetsten Don von New York. Fünf Jahre lang gehörte ich ihm. Neun Kugeln fing ich für ihn ab. Er küsste meine Narben, während ich für ihn verblutete. Hielt mich fest. Legte mir die Königinnenkette um den Hals. Und sobald ich geheilt war, vögelte er mich um den Verstand – mit einer Leidenschaft, die sich anfühlte wie für immer. Ich dachte, wir würden unser Leben miteinander verbringen. Ich dachte, er würde mich heiraten. Doch in unserer 999. gemeinsamen Nacht eröffnete er mir, dass er verlobt sei. Mit Bianca, einer Mafiaprinzessin aus einer Rivalenfamilie. Ich schluckte meine Tränen hinunter. Er packte nur mein Kinn, blies mir Rauch ins Gesicht und lachte. „Du hast doch nicht wirklich geglaubt, du könntest mich heiraten, oder, Nora? Lass uns eines klarstellen: Wir ficken. Das ist alles. Du bist keine Partnerin. Du bist ein Kunstwerk, das ich sammle. Ein Haustier, das mir gehört.“ Ein Haustier. Mehr wollte er nie aus mir machen. Stattdessen griff ich nach einem Wegwerfhandy. [Ich nehme dein Angebot an. Drei Tage. Hol mich verdammt nochmal aus New York raus.]

My husband and I were in a passionate embrace when his phone suddenly rang. He pushed me away without hesitation, and I snatched the phone from his hand angrily. It was a message from his sister-in-law. [Henry, my mastopathy is acting up again. What should I do? My breasts hurt so much.] It was followed by a picture of her in sexy lingerie. That was when I lost my temper. "Your sister-in-law is such a shameless woman! How could she share such a picture with you in the middle of the night? How dare she harass you like this after your brother's passing?!" Henry kicked me out of bed. "Stop being petty and vicious, Tessa! My brother's death has been a huge blow for her. What's wrong with me showing her concern as family when she's sick?” "Have you any idea how disappointed I am with you? Apologize right now, or I'll divorce you!" In all our years of marriage, Henry would always threaten me with divorce because I was the one who courted him for five years before finally marrying him. He felt that I would never be able to leave him, but this time, I had lost all hope in him. I did not want him anymore.

"He is the only true heir to my throne. I must take him back." That day, the Alpha King descended upon our remote little pack with his royal soldiers. He pointed at Jasper—the man I had saved a year ago in the wilderness, my fated mate—and with those words, he shattered my entire world. I remember feeling this tight knot in my chest, because I'd always known Jasper was different. When I'd saved him from falling off that cliff last winter, I could feel something about him. I guessed it was his Alpha blood, but I wasn't totally sure back then. Now, his secret was out in the open. And me? I was still scrubbing dishes in the corner, because that was an Omega's duty, while everyone else cheered and celebrated. But Jasper… he stayed calm. He looked the Alpha King dead in the eyes and said, “I’m taking my pup Liam and Amelia back to the Shadowfang pack.” Yes. Amelia. Not me. In my last life, only their favorite she-wolf, Amelia, also the Beta's daughter, got to leave with them. When I broke down and asked Jasper why, his answer was cold and simple: “Her status suits me better than yours.” And just like that, my mate and my pup abandoned me. But this time—when Jasper spoke those same words again—under the mocking stares around me, I took a deep breath, forced a smile, and whispered my blessing: “Oh, well. I wish you both a happy future. I still have work to do.” I had already made up my mind. I was gonna work hard, save enough money, and get out of here, start a fresh life somewhere else. But tell me this, if I was so unworthy, then why, after I finally walked away, did he come begging me to return as his Luna?

In the final year of my bond with vampire lord Saul, the curse of our pact struck, and I was overwhelmed by agony, but my lord was nowhere to be found. He had gone out. He left me to suffer. Alone. When the door finally creaked open the next morning, I looked up through bloodshot eyes—hope flickering like a dying candle. But he wasn't alone. He carried an unconscious woman in his arms, her head resting against his chest like she belonged there. Ignoring me as I curled up on the floor in pain, he first carried the woman to his room and called the old butler anxiously. "Jacinda's passed out. Hurry! Check if she's all right!" The old butler cautiously pleaded on my behalf, hoping our lord could save me first, but Saul frowned and interrupted: "Jacinda is in danger, and I have no mind to drink her blood now. She just needs to pull through herself. Believe me, she won't die. Right now, the priority is to save Jacinda." A frown and a glance in my direction was his only response to the old butler's desperate plea. With my only hope shattered, I clenched my teeth and slashed several long wounds on my arms and hands to drain blood for self-rescue. After a long period of weak convulsions, the curse of the pact finally ended. I lay in a pool of blood, sending a message with my last faint consciousness. "I promise I will leave him."

On the day of the mating ceremony, a crazed witch bursts in and points straight at me, shrieking, "Six years later, your Alpha will betray you!" Troy Hudson, my soon-to-be mate, turns livid. He swats the purple-glowing crystal ball from her hand, shattering it on the floor. "Nonsense! Estelle is my fated mate! I'll only ever love her in this lifetime!" After that, he becomes even more devoted to me. At the Moon Goddess' altar, he drapes the Luna shawl over my shoulders. He marks me with his scent so the entire pack knows I belong to him. Every full moon, he deepens the mark on my neck, whispering that I am his forever. I believe his love is unbreakable until our sixth anniversary. A box waits at our front door. Inside lies a pair of lace panties and a photograph. In the photo, Troy is pressed over his foster sister, Rue Youngblood, the wolf tattoo on his body glowing faintly. His hand grips her waist, his eyes burning with the same heat I've dreamed of a million times. And Rue? She's wearing that same pair of panties. On the back of the photo, written in ink as red as blood, is a line of pure provocation. "The Alpha's heart may belong to you, but his body belongs to me." Agony ripped through my chest, yet not a single tear fell. Instead, I rest my hand on my belly and quietly send word to the Witch Association. "I accept your invitation. Please help me vanish."

I had waited for him for eight years. I thought I was the love of his life. I thought waiting so long for him to takeover his pack would prove to him my love. But her pictures filled his laptop when he had none of me. I was just a joke to him and his pack. But not anymore. Instead of getting bound to him, it is best to set him free. So l left and he lost his mind trying to find me.

When I was three months pregnant, a pack of Rogues ambushed me. In the last moments before my consciousness began to fade, I begged for rescue through my mind-link to my Alpha mate, Adrian. But he never answered. I was rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment, only to be informed that the Saint-Tier Healer had been forcefully taken South by Adrian to treat Evelyn, his first love, after she lost her mate. When I woke to the pain of losing my pup, my fingers shook as I checked social media, then I saw Evelyn's post: [I knew that no matter how far away I am or how much time has passed, Adrian would always come for me. He even brought a Saint-Tier Healer to ease the pain in my heart.] In the photo, Adrian's dark eyes, which were usually cold and distant, were focused on the woman beside him with tenderness. While I was fighting for my life and losing our cub, my Alpha was protecting another pregnant wolf. I chuckled at myself bitterly. It felt as if the bond mark on my chest was withering away. I then dialed a number without hesitation. "Dr. Clark, I accept the position at the Northern Ancient Wolf Research Institute. Yes, the sooner the better. I won't be holding a farewell ceremony."