Tragic Story

My husband, Peter Sullivan, was obsessed with his first love who got kidnapped. When she was found, Nicole Cooper was pregnant with another man's child. While I was due to give birth soon, Peter forced me to sign the divorce agreement. "The doctor said Nicole's womb is fragile," he said. "If she loses this baby, she might never have another. I'll keep supporting you and our kid, but I can only be the father to her child." He once promised me forever. Now it proved to be just a lie. I looked at him and agreed without a fight. In fact, this was my third time living this life. This time, I just wanted to protect my baby and survive.

I was five months along, carrying the pup of my fiancé, Ryan Hebert. On our marking day, Ryan rejected me and marked Daisy, also with pup. He claimed my pup wasn’t his, a bastard of unknown origin. Worse, he called my father a traitor in front of everyone. At the banquet entrance, my father collapsed, and I miscarried. I knelt in blood, begging him to save us. “Daisy can’t handle stress. Stay away from her.” Then he walked off, holding her close. Later, my childhood friend Andrew saved me. He brought in the most skilled wolf healers for my father, and stayed by my side, night and day. A week later, my father had another heart attack. Before he passed, his only wish was for me to be protected. Andrew knelt by the bedside, and solemnly swore to my father’s lifeless body that he would marry me,that he would protect me for the rest of my life. And I believed him. After the funeral, I ended things with Ryan and married Andrew instead. But five years later, I overheard a conversation between Ryan and Andrew. “If Eleanor ever finds out that it was you and me who traded her purity for Daisy’s happiness on the day of the ceremony… do you think she’d still love you?” So Andrew’s love was a lie too. But when I left, why did the one who broke me beg to have me back?

The night before returning to the Cantrell residence, I had a dream where I was the despised antagonist in a book. In the story, my father had adopted a girl who bore an uncanny resemblance to my late mother. On the day he came to pick me up, he got into a devastating car accident. After that, my second brother, Shawn Cantrell, lashed out, calling me a curse, while my eldest brother, Seth Cantrell, treated me with cold indifference. In the end, I was abandoned by everyone, meeting a tragic and lonely end.

In New York’s Upper East Side, there were two heirs. One was a speed-obsessed daredevil dominating the racetracks, the other was a brilliant actuary who controlled the flow of capital. Born into powerful families and polar opposites in temperament, yet they grew up side by side as each other’s only best friend. They had fought over girls and bickered endlessly over racing bets. However, at fifteen, there was one thing they did in perfect unison. They each put on the same roughly carved bronze badge. They were trinkets Mia had idly made during a craft class, marked only by a faint “M” scratched on the back. Back then, Mia was seated in the last row of the classroom. Her background was a complete mystery to everyone. Yet they wore that badge for ten whole years. Whether standing on the F1 podium or locking in billion-dollar trades at the exchange, the cheap little badge on their chests never changed. Until Ella showed up. She was the cherished daughter of a rising conglomerate family. She hand-stitched two gold-thread fabric patches and gifted them to them. The patches looked so ordinary they looked like the kind of trinket you would find three for a dollar at a flea market. And yet, they both replaced their bronze badges with her plain patches. Mia did not say anything. She simply folded away an old newspaper clipping with a photo of the three of them smiling together. That night, she called her father in Sicily. Her voice was emotionless. “Papa, I accept the marriage arrangement.”

On my 30th birthday, my boyfriend of seven years asked to meet at the City Hall. He even told me to bring my ID and wear a wedding dress. But when I showed up just as he asked, he was laughing and looked really excited. “Pay up, pay up! I told you all. No matter how embarrassing it is, Wrenna will always do what I say!” I just looked at him wordlessly. Matthew Young raised his eyebrows at me. “Come on, it was just a joke. You’re not mad, are you?” When I stayed quiet, he got annoyed. “Alright, alright. I said I’d marry you, and I will. Just not right now.” His good-for-nothing friends started laughing and making fun of me. They said I was his simp and would never get angry. And they were right. I was not angry. I did not come here today for him anyway. After everyone left, I walked into the City Hall. “Sorry I’m late. Let’s go get married.”

I am having a heart attack when Scott Lakin locks me inside the car. It's because my pain is frightening his childhood sweetheart. In response to my desperate pleas for help, he merely utters coldly, "I'll let you out when you apologize." I go into shock and have to be rushed to the hospital. I call Scott a dozen times, but he just blocks me. Finally, after I get discharged, I see him carefully feeding his childhood sweetheart chicken soup. "Have some food, darling. What if the baby in your belly is hungry?" After that, I return to my hometown without saying a word and stay there for half a month. After blocking me everywhere except the music streaming platform, Scott suddenly starts frantically searching for me. "Jennie, why didn't you add me back on Facebook this time?"

On our first wedding anniversary, my husband came home with a woman who was six months pregnant. He introduced her as his cousin, someone who had fallen on hard times, and asked me to take care of her. I was just about to agree when fragments of imaginary commentary floated through my mind: [She's just my 'cousin'. Uh-uh, that's a cliche.] [Poor supporting female character! A maid by day, the husband's bedwarmer by night.] [But she totally deserved it! If she hadn't broken up the main couple, they'd have a whole soccer team of kids by now!] Wait—what? Supporting female character? Me? And what's this about breaking them up? So now these two get to cheat under my roof, and somehow I'm the villain? Before I could process it all, my husband was already dragging her luggage inside. "Alice doesn't like fried food," he said matter-of-factly. "And nothing too salty or spicy. Make sure you keep that in mind when you're cooking. "Oh, and pregnant women love sweets. Go out now and buy a cherry cake. The one from that bakery in the suburbs."

Having been reborn, this time around, I look straight at Arthur Thorne and choose to break our mate bond. Lilian Wilder, the she-wolf he's been seeing on the side, is carrying his pup. To let her pup become his heir, he pleads with me to step aside and make room for her. "Lilian saved my life before. I can't let her and my pup live on the outside as rogue wolves. You'll help me, right? Once my heir is born, I'll bring you back." Back when Arthur had been besieged by the Silvermoon pack, Lilian betrayed her pack and rescued him. Having survived the attack, he became the Alpha, but Lilian got chased out of her pack. Ever since then, he'd been looking after her and would leave the pack from time to time to accompany her. In my previous lifetime, I'd adamantly refused to break our mate bond. However, in order to let his precious Lilian become his Luna, Arthur poisoned me with wolfsbane himself, subjecting me to endless torment. Unable to bear the pain any longer, I chose to break our mate bond. Lilian stared at me mockingly and said, "It's just a bit of wolfsbane. Why are you acting like it's torture? And don't tell me you're going to slander me by saying I did it!" Arthur didn't want to let the love of his life suffer in any way. So, he dragged me right to the burial grounds and watched as I bled to death. Now that I've been reborn, I'm not going to let myself be at anyone's mercy again!

At one of the exclusive private casino parties, my eyes landed on a diamond tiara. The catch? It was the prize for a high-stakes blackjack game. Luckily, poker happens to be one of my many sins. A girl named Elara—whom I once pitied enough to introduce to Throne, hoping she’d land a job—has now declared she wants the tiara too. Naïve. Probably thought beginner’s luck was a real thing. I figured, fine. Let the cards decide. If I win, I walk away with the tiara. If I lose, I’ll find another way to soothe my pride. Easy enough. Thorne, my ever-watchful husband, leaned in and murmured, “Go easy on her.” I didn’t. I won. Beat the dealer faster than her and won the tiara. That girl cried at the table. Thorne didn’t look impressed for once. He rather seemed... irritated. I thought it was for Elara’s sake. Turns out, it was for mine. A year later, same party, different stakes. The grand prize? My own sex video. While holding Elara in his arms, my husband said to me, voice almost amusing, “Don’t you like winning prizes? Then go on. Win our sex tape back.”

Ivory Stone has tried and failed to seduce her stoic steward 999 times. She thinks that maybe Wilson Quill doesn't have a heart. Maybe he won't ever fall in love with anyone. But one day, she catches him pleasuring himself with a bracelet belonging to the fake heiress who stole her life.