Tragic Ending

I had been in a relationship with Zachary Dawson for seven years and engaged for three when, out of the blue, Ruby White, the daughter of his mentor, moved into our home. Sitting casually on the bed that Zachary and I shared, Ruby lounged with an air of nonchalance, her voice playful and teasing. "Zachary, the dental god, sure has a nice bed," she remarked with a smirk. "I can only imagine what it would be like to spend the night with him in this bed." I captured the scene on my phone and sent the video to our family group chat with a brief message: Looks like Zachary might have a new girlfriend Zachary rushed home, wrapping his arms protectively around a tearful Ruby. He pointed at me, his voice seething with anger. "My mentor's dying wish was for me to take care of Ruby! If you can't accept that, then move out!" Honestly, my brows furrowed deeper than the wrinkles on the bedsheets Ruby had sat on. Fine. I didn't need the bed, and I didn't need a fiancé anymore.

On our third dating anniversary, Enzo and I were caught in a cruise ship disaster. I gave him the only life preserver, and I was swallowed by the sea, lost without a trace. Three years later, after finally recovering from my injuries, I rushed back home—only to walk right into his grand wedding with my so-called sister. Bound by a life debt, he had no choice but to marry me—and resented me ever since. He hated that I'd come between him and the woman he truly loved. Even my own parents accused me of being selfish, of ruining my sister's happiness for life. Under the weight of everyone's coldness and rejection, I became desperate and unhinged. … Then, one day, when our family's old enemies came for revenge, he threw himself in front of me and took a knife straight to the heart. Blood gushed out as he used the last of his strength to drag me to safety. "Raina," he rasped, "you saved my life once, and now I've repaid the debt. Just do me one favor—don't come back to haunt me in the next life. All I want is to spend it forever with Selina, just the two of us." My heart tore apart, and I died with that grief. However, when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I had crashed their wedding.

I've been married to Shawn Ford for three years, and he's humiliated and insulted me throughout. When he's with his friend, he brags, "The woman my Uncle Cameron can't have is licking my boots. I want to laugh whenever I see her sucking up to me." It wouldn't ever occur to him that I'm frequently in his uncle's bed, covered in hickeys and love bites he leaves on my body.

Zackary and I had been married for seven years and finally had our first child. But seeing the pregnancy result, he suspected that the child was not his. Out of anger, I went to do a paternity test with him. On the day the result came out, Zackary, who was supposed to be in the hospital, appeared at my door. He was holding a photo. The photo showed that my underwear was at his friend's house. He kicked me so hard that I lost my baby. He shouted, "You bitch, you dare to cheat on me. I won't raise another man's child, you know. Go to hell!" Later he knew the truth and begged my dead child to come back.

The year the Rossi famiglia falls, my personal Underboss, Lorenzo Santoro, rises to power—becoming the Don and seizing control of the underworld. Once, I was the untouchable Principessa. He was the Soldato, ready to die for me at a moment's notice. For something as trivial as a paper cut on my finger, he would drop to his knees with red-rimmed eyes, blowing on it for half an hour. Now, to earn a smile from his new flame, Elena Marino, he forces me to sign a contract and makes me his live target. He watches with indifference as I am battered and bloodied under a hail of bullets. During a blast-resistance test, shattered glass slices the corner of my eye, but Lorenzo merely looks on. "The once-delicate Principessa Rossi can't even handle a little pain?" During attack-dog training, I am bitten to the bone, yet he shields a trembling Elena instead. "Animals don't know any better. Why are you holding a grudge against a dog?" Then comes the real kidnapping. To save Elena, who is desperate to become Donna, he personally cuts off my escape. "This is just a drill, Isabella," he scoffs. "Stop acting like it's real." On the surveillance monitors, flames engulf me as I take my final breath. A bloodstained termination contract is delivered to him. "Don Santoro, I return the life I owe you." Only then does the man who believes he rules the world finally lose his mind.

In the dark water dungeon, Leonard hung me up and tied me in a very humiliating position. "Do you know why you're punished today?" His eyebrows knitted together, his eyes filled with uncontainable disgust. I knew that his obsession with cleanliness had flared up again. Enduring the humiliation, I allowed him to whip me, just to atone for my sins and ask for his forgiveness. As the mate to the Alpha of Mooncrown Pack for the past five years, I was long used to such a thing. However, when I learned that he was going to sell me into becoming a sex slave after five years together simply because of a remark from his first love, Serina, I realized then that the humiliation he had inflicted on me over the past five years was entirely fabricated. Due to his promises, I believed he was my destined mate, endured his severe obsession with cleanliness, and forgave all the harm he had done to me. I thought I could win back his heart as long as I waited. It turned out that everything was a meticulously plotted attack. The pain severed me from my past; I could no longer tolerate or compromise, so I left. However, he frantically searched for me, begging me to be his Luna and desperately pleading for my forgiveness.

Three years ago, I broke up with my girlfriend—Audrey Hades—while she was on the verge of going bankrupt. Immediately after, I got engaged to her biggest rival, Clara Sterling. Later, she turns into a celebrated and adored rising star of the business world. She allows people around her to mock and label me as a gold-digger who leeches off rich women. But what she doesn't know is that I've been dead for three years.

When I went to the hospital for a checkup to see if my fourth IVF attempt had succeeded, I saw Daniel Cooper, who was supposed to be on a business trip. He was carefully supporting a young, beautiful woman as they walked out of the obstetrics and gynecology department. Her belly was unmistakably round, and she looked like she was ready to give birth at any moment. Daniel froze for just a second before stepping in front of her, shielding her from me. He explained, "Abby, the Cooper family needs an heir to carry on the lineage. Once the baby is born, everything will go back to the way it was." I heard the certainty in his words. So I smiled, nodded, and quietly tucked my test results away as he stared at me in surprise. On the day she gave birth, I left the divorce papers on the kitchen table and walked out of his life for good.

On the very night Finn Chapman's first love got divorced, he threw the ninety-ninth divorce agreement at me. "Lisa's heart is broken. She can't move on. I have to take care of her," he said. Even our seven-year-old son tried to persuade me. "You should just agree to the divorce and leave," he told me. "Let Lisa move in. We don't need a maid like you anymore." Both father and son were certain I'd scream, cry, beg them not to throw me out. But I didn't. I simply nodded, quietly signed my name on the divorce papers, and left. Ten years later, my son became the top scorer on the SATs. During an interview, a reporter asked him, "What has motivated you to study so hard all these years?" He went silent for a moment. Then, in front of everyone, his eyes turned red. "Because I wanted to tell my mom," he said, voice trembling, "I've grown up now. Will you come back? Please don't leave me again."

Today happens to be Yvonne Ziegler's birthday. Yvonne is Shawn Jacobson's, my husband's, newly hired personal assistant. Shawn spares no expense in buying her a villa as a birthday present, and Yvonne haughtily takes to social media to show off on the day she moves in. "I'd like everyone to know that I'm married to a wealthy man now." Shawn comments on the post, saying, "Happy birthday, my beloved Yvonne!" In the picture, Shawn's hand rests intimately on Yvonne's slender waist, leaving no doubt about their intimate relationship. In that instant, the company's group chat erupts into a frenzy of notifications, as colleagues declare their envy of Yvonne and heap praise upon her for being young and accomplished. Oscar Jagger, my childhood friend, notices the picture and immediately tags me in the group chat. He then sends me a pointed, teasing message, saying, "Shawn's display of love is so glaring! Congrats on being cheated on, Leslie!" I manage a bitter, wry smile, taking my time to type out the response. "Do you need a villa as well, Oscar? I'm happy to give you a place—a much nicer one than Shawn's, of course."