Tragic Romances

When James Chapman and I first got together, I was a regular student while he was one of the most popular guys in school. Five years down the road, I'm still a regular woman. James' attitude toward me has changed drastically, though. He frequently complains about my appearance. I know it's because his true love is back in the country. He misses our fifth anniversary because of her. His true love makes fun of me for being ugly to his face, so he orders me to get cosmetic surgery at her newly opened clinic. He wants me to use my fanbase to make her business boom. "You're so ugly that you'd be the perfect person to prove Barbara's skills… if she can actually make you look better, that is. We're all friends, aren't we? What's wrong with lending her a hand? Stop being so petty!" Barbara Simpson kills me—I die on the operating table in her inhumane clinic. James thinks I go missing because I'm just throwing a tantrum, but he realizes he's wrong when he finds my mangled body in the basement. The diamond ring he put on my finger is still there, too.

Kaelan noticed I hadn't filed a single medical or living expense request in the pack’s resource channel for a week. He must have thought I’d finally kicked my greedy human habits. At dinner, he tossed a black card at me. It cut a cold arc through the air, landing beside my plate. “Your father’s treatment for next month. The wolf gene serum, the lab fees—it’s all approved.” His voice was pure Alpha command. An order, not a suggestion. “Bringing you and your father here was a risk. I fought the Elders for you. You are my mate. Stop begging for pack funds like a common stray. It’s a bad look.” He didn’t know my fingers were ice-cold when I picked up the card. The papers to sever our mate bond were already signed. So was my will. The hoodie I wore when I left was a faded thing he’d tossed at me three years ago. No one would believe it. The fated mate of an Alpha who ran a corporate empire… had to send a photo of a $10 painkiller receipt to a Beta assistant for approval. All because he thought a fragile human like me was a leech who couldn’t be trusted with cash. But a week ago, when my father’s lupus caused his organs to fail, I needed $50,000. He needed a dose of pure gene repair serum, synthesized in the pack’s high-tech med-bay. I begged him on my knees. His childhood friend, Seraphina, just laughed. She froze my request, saying she was helping me break my bad habit of “cashing in on my mate status.” Kaelan never knew I endured that humiliation just so my father could stay alive in his top-tier medical lab. Now, my father was dead. The medicine was cut off, and his ashes were already in the ground. I didn’t need to be his obedient little pet anymore.

I was the princess sent over by the Werewolf Kingdom for an arranged marriage. I was also meant to be the blood bag of Count Dracula. In my past life, I helped him rule the Bloodsucking Empire. I willingly allowed him to drain my werewolf blood and even risked a dangerous pregnancy by having a baby of mixed bloodline. However, all Dracula did was watch his frail childhood crush dig out the baby from my body to save her life. It was only before I died that I realized he had never loved me. All I was to him was a mobile blood bank. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the Blood Moon Party when I was five months pregnant. Dracula raised the knife with silver blade in his hand. "Be good. All I need is some blood to save Anna." This time, I did not fight back as I did in my previous life. Dracula mistook it for obedience. He had no idea that the Werewolf Princess who had once loved him with her life had become mates with the highly aggressive Alpha King of the Werewolf Kingdom.

In the second year of our marriage, which Brett Mason had secured through relentless means, he brought home his latest conquest—a stunning blonde. As the door swung shut, he ran his fingers through her silky hair, flashing me a smug, triumphant grin. "Wanna join us? You might learn a thing or two about not being such a dead fish." I could still recall how he once adored my hair, claiming that just stroking it would melt away his deepest worries. It turned out any woman could serve that purpose. In that instant, a profound sense of release washed over me. I retrieved the divorce agreement I'd stashed away in a drawer and handed it to him. "Sign it, and I'll make room for her." My days were numbered, and I had no intention of wasting what little time remained entangled in his resentment.

I hated my husband most in the moment he died for me, swallowed by the flames. Right before he took his last breath, he tore our marriage certificate in half, his eyes burning red. "If there's another life," he said, "I'd rather we never met." My whole body went rigid. Only then did I understand—he blamed me. Ten years ago, his childhood sweetheart and her family had been exiled. She had begged him for help. But that day, he'd gone with me on a trip and missed the chance to save her. And for ten long years, he held that grudge against me. After my husband's death, the world turned on me. Even my in-laws, who had always cared for me, looked at me with pure disgust. "If not for you, Russ wouldn't be dead. We wish you'd never been born!" I couldn't bear it anymore. I ended my life. I never expected that when I opened my eyes again, I would be back on the day Russ Williams came to propose. This time, I would do exactly as he wished. I would give everyone what they wanted.

Five years ago, my junior made a mistake in the experiment, resulting in an explosion in the lab. In an effort to save my childhood friend, Andrew, I suffered severe burns to one side of my face and was falsely accused as the culprit. Just like that, I became the target of everyone's anger. Only Andrew stood by me, promising, "I love you for who you are, not your appearance. I'll always be there to protect you." But on our wedding day, he vanished without a trace. My mother, suffering from heart disease and barely clinging to life, wanted to see Andrew. When I asked him to come, he replied impatiently, "Are you using such a lame excuse to meet me? Don't you have any shame? Every time I look at your face, I feel disgusting." I pleaded desperately, but he calmly hung up. "Do you think I'm your servant? You can't just summon me whenever you want. Just because you saved me once doesn't mean you can blackmail me for life." My mother died without peace. The junior who slandered me back then later posted a photo on social media, showing a man lifting her effortlessly. Their poses were intimate, highlighting the underlying affection. Her captions read: [It's all his fault for tiring me out during the day. I almost missed out on this beautiful ocean. When you're in love, all is clear to see. I mentioned wanting to go to Belmar Island, and he flew me around the world for it.] I was utterly heartbroken, so I texted him: [Let's break up…]

Six months after our divorce, my ex-wife, Shanon Reich went viral with her new influencer boyfriend, Tobias Hunt, gaining over ten million followers. One day, by sheer accident, I scrolled into their livestream and saw my three-year-old daughter, Ginny Herbert, trapped inside a car. She was crying so hard she could barely breathe. Her little face was flushed, her eyes wide with fear and confusion. She looked utterly helpless. Shanon didn't smash the window, nor did she call the police. Instead, she laughed brightly at the camera. "Thank you to our top fan for the moneybag gift!" Then she grinned and said, "Send another moneybag! I'll smash the window once I get it, okay?" I lost my mind. I raced over like a madman and wrenched the car keys out of her hand. "Leomund Herbert! Are you insane?" she screamed. "Do you know how much this stream is worth? It's just a little heat! She's not going to die!" I held my daughter in my arms. Her tiny body was limp, and she was barely conscious. With reddened eyes, I pointed at her and shouted, "Shanon Reich! You will pay for this!"

Years ago, I, Ella Marin, became the wife of Andrew Lorenzo, the underboss of the Lorenzo family. Sadly, my last three years were spent in prison after I caused a fatal car accident. I heard plenty of “good news” about my husband while I did my time. Andrew had officially taken over the Lorenzo family once the Don had stepped down. He then spent a fortune on a woman called Rose Gunfire and was rumored to have had a one-night stand with a rival. He was also seen acting intimately with Sophia, the Principessa of the Rossi family, and private photos of them kept appearing online. When the underboss came to warn me about Andrew, I remained calm. “The Don says that as long as you don’t cry or make a scene, you’ll still have a place in the Lorenzo family after your release.” I replied quietly, “So he has women on the side. I can handle that.” Three days before that, the church’s hospital had called to tell me that my mother was terminally ill. Since the Lorenzo family could help find a kidney donor, I agreed to a marriage in name only. All for my mother’s sake.

“Sigurado ka na gusto mo palitan ang pangalan mo, Ms. Anderson? Kakailanganin mo palitan ang degree certificate mo, documentation, at passport sa oras na gawin mo ito.” Tumango si Noelle Anderson. “Sigurado ako.” Sinubukan siyang kumbinsihin ng empleyado. “Hassle para sa mga matatanda na palitan ang pangalan nila, at maganda naman ang kasalukuyan mo na pangalan. Sigurado ka ba na ayaw mo itong pag-isipan?” “Hindi, napag-isipan ko na ito.” Pinirmahan niya ang form. “Pasensiya na sa abala.” “Sige, kung ganoon. Ang pangalan na ipapalit mo… ay Aria Byrd, tama?” “Oo.” Aria Byrd–ibig sabihin paglipad sa kalayaan.

On the ninth year after our bonding ceremony, my mate, Alpha Kyle Burns, finds himself hopelessly in love with Ivy Cline, an Omega who's taken in as a prisoner of war from a pack that has been conquered by the Silver Moon pack. Ivy is supposed to be a lowly prisoner, and yet she often keeps her head high in an arrogant manner. One time, she kicks the things gifted to her by Kyle into a puddle in front of everyone else. "I might be a prisoner, but I refuse to become a traitor who clings to wolves of power for survival! You can keep your disgusting charity act to yourself!" Those are the exact words that have Kyle wrapped around Ivy's little finger. In order to conquer the wild-spirited Ivy, Kyle personally severs the mind-link that he has maintained with me for the past nine years. He completely disregards the fact that I'm his fated mate as well as the most reverent Luna of the pack. But he most likely has forgotten the blood curse my father, who was also the former Alpha of the pack, asked the witch to place on him. If Kyle and I don't head over to the Moon Goddess' altar to extend our bond once ten years are up, the curse will take effect. That's when the mate bond between us will be completely severed.