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In the third year of our marriage, my husband's first love got a divorce. He gave her the forty-five thousand dollars we had saved for a house because she was left with nothing and struggling to make ends meet. I urged him to ask for the money back, but he pointed at my face and angrily shouted, "You used to be so gentle and virtuous—what happened? Why are you so selfish, so shallow now?" "Is forty-five thousand dollars really worth you making a fuss over?" "Chloe is starting over with nothing, raising a child on her own. Don't you feel any sympathy for her?" Fine. He was noble, he was merciful. I did not argue further, because the one who needed money for cancer treatment was him, not me.

Celia Johnson, my boss's sister-in-law, joined the company as the finance director and announced that all reimbursements must strictly follow the standards. I spent an entire week running around for the company and finally closed a five-hundred-thousand-dollar deal. Because the client had used two extra packs of paper towels, the per-person amount for their meal ended up eight dollars over the limit. Celia folded her arms, glanced at the reimbursement form on my desk, and sneered. "Five hundred and eight dollars?" "Yes. Last night at The Peak Restaurant, where we closed Richard's deal. Zack was there too," I explained patiently. "Eight dollars over the per-person limit. Not reimbursable," Celia said coldly. I tried to reason with her. "This was a special case. The client is high-level, and the deal amount is large, and Zack personally said it would be fully reimbursed last night." She returned the reimbursement form to me. "I don't care who said that. Don't think closing a five-hundred-thousand-dollar contract lets you ignore company rules. Reimbursements must all follow policies. Everyone will follow them to the letter." I took a deep breath. I knew arguing with her head-on would get me nowhere, so I called Zack directly. Zack said, "I did say it would be reimbursed, but I never said company rules could be ignored. It's just five hundred. And you still get commission from closing the deal. You young people need to have perspective." I stopped arguing. I turned around and refused the delivery containing the hard copy of the five-hundred-thousand-dollar cooperation contract, smiling as I explained, "Company rules say all cash on delivery packages must be refused. "Also, today is my last day here. Starting tomorrow, I work for Richard's company. As the client, I will be setting the rules this time."

My husband sends me a photo of our obedient daughter holding a plate of food. He writes, "Thanks to my patient guidance, our sweetheart has finally made her first dish! We're waiting for you to come home and taste it!" The exhaustion I feel from work is swept away when I see that. No one expects that I'll reach home half an hour later and kill him.

"The Rossi family doesn't need a Don. We just need a Donna." As the only heiress of the Rossi family, this was the law that I had set when I received the Browning pistol—a pistol that resembles the ultimate authority in the Rossi family—from my Papa when he was on his deathbed. But three years ago, the police relentlessly investigated the money laundering business that my fiance, Lorenzo Moretti, was in charge of. If that business were to get exposed, the Rossi family's hundred-year-old legacy would be ruined. In order to protect my family's legacy and to allow Lorenzo to continue legalizing my family's businesses, I decided to become the scapegoat for all the crimes. On the rainy night of my arrest, I personally handed the pistol over to Lorenzo. "Protect my family for me before my return." This gave Lorenzo legitimate authority to run my family. He used the pistol to purge my subordinates and take over the family business. He even broke my law by announcing to the public that he'd become the next Don soon. An invitation with golden borders is soon leaked from the family's inner circle. Lorenzo's and another woman's names are printed on the cover. During a visit, my private lawyer says mockingly, "If you don't get out of prison now, the Rossi family might take on another man's last name for real." I just sneer in response. After that, I get bailed out of jail in advance and return home to celebrate Lorenzo's "funeral". But no matter how many times I scan my iris at the biometric scanner in the estate, the result always comes out wrong. A young woman, who's toying with the pistol, opens the door at that moment. The contempt and disdain in her eyes are plain to see. "Where the hell did a crazy woman like you come from? You came to the wrong place. This is my private turf, you know."

I was dying soon. However, both of my childhood friends, who swore to protect me forever, did not realize that. It was because they were busy throwing a celebration party for their junior from the research lab. I went through hardships and got infected by this incurable virus to retrieve this special seaweed from the deep sea. However, that junior claimed that she was the one who got the seaweed! My childhood friends, whom I had known for decades, believed her. Due to their accusations, I became the evil senior who was taking credit for a junior’s work. I wanted to explain, but they said, “Mandy Smith is a good kid. Why would she lie?” “You’re busy playing tricks and acting like a pick-me girl instead of focusing on your research. Trust me, I’m going to get you removed by our supervisor.” After I was discharged from the hospital, I left the research lab and disappeared just like they wanted. However, they started to desperately look for me.

"You're no daughter of this pack," my mother hissed, her golden eyes flashing in the firelight. "If you can't support your Alpha sister, then get out." I should have seen it coming. In the Ashveil Pack, family means everything—unless you're me. Vera Darkthorne, the disappointment. While my perfect sister Eris got the love, the title, even my mate Cain, I got a mating ceremony where nobody showed up. Not even the man who swore he'd always be mine. That night, I ran. Now I've built a new life in Berlin's underground werewolf syndicate, where strength is the only law that matters. I've learned to fight, to lead, to make wolves twice my size back down with just a look. But when a message comes that Eris's dying, the pack demands my return. "Come home, Vera," my father's voice crackles through the phone. "Your sister needs you." I almost laugh. After everything? But this time, I'm not the weak wolf they left behind. This time, I have fangs of my own. And when wolves hunt you down, you don't run—you rip their throats out first.

Even though I was the one who broke my ribs in the car accident, my boyfriend Jared decided to take care of his drunk ex-girlfriend instead. When I called to ask him to spend time with me in the hospital, he berated me. “Why are you so clingy? Can’t you tell that Isabelle needs me right now? “You’re a nurse, aren’t you? What, you can’t even take care of yourself now?” Heartbroken, I suggested we break up, only to be met with anger. “I was going to propose to you, you know? Considering how influential my family business is, I need to make sure I choose my wife wisely. “Today was a test to see if you have what it takes to be the next Mrs. Carter. I thought you would be independent and selfless. I expect my future wife to have my back no matter what. “Look at yourself now. You can’t even take care of yourself over something so insignificant! I’m disappointed, Charmaine.” The next day, he posted a picture of himself and his ex-girlfriend on social media. The image’s caption was targeted at me: [You’d better think twice and apologize, Charmaine, or I’ll just date someone else.] I did not apologize. I had had enough of him, so I left the city. Three years later, I saw him again in the lobby of the Financial Tower. I was wearing a heavy onesie costume and sporting a full face of cosplay makeup, while he was wearing an expensive suit and had Isabelle hanging delicately from his arm. He recognized me immediately and laughed. “I knew you never moved on from me, Charmaine! Does it hurt to know I’ll be marrying someone else? “That’s what you’re doing here, right? You’re trying to cosplay as my favorite Marvel character to get my attention. “Maybe I’ll consider taking you back if you kneel and apologize.” I did not deign to reply. I had indeed loved him once upon a time, but today was my son’s birthday, and the cosplay was my surprise for him...

While inspecting the hotel owned by my family, I start to feel hungry after ordering some food at the hotel restaurant. Before the food is served, I munch on a small piece of bread roll for the time being. Suddenly, the lobby manager comes up to me and hands me a piece of paper. "Hello, sir. We do not allow outside food here. It has been 8 minutes and 30 seconds since you entered our restaurant. The total cost of your meal is 1,500 dollars. You'll be fined 1.28 million dollars." I am briefly stunned as I look at the piece of paper detailing the amount I should pay. Then, I take a picture of the piece of paper and send it to the group chat that has all the members of the board of directors. I tag my elder sister in the next message I send. "I've received a fine at the hotel owned by my family. Is this how you've increased the hotel's revenue?"

Aurora Reynolds is now the mother of three, luna to her pack and head of the conclave. Life is perfect with her four mates and family, but rumours are spreading about her oldest son Luca. The alliance between the packs turn on each other, as her son isn’t an ordinary werewolf. He is special, with abilities no other wolf possesses. Some see him as the answer to all their problems others see him as a threat. After Luca is taken, her mates feel compelled to take revenge on anyone who hurts their family, friend, or foe.

Grandpa died, and we immediately went for each other's throats over the inheritance. Then a blizzard hit, trapping us all in the family estate. An app appeared on our phones: [THE LAST ZOMBIE: FINAL RECKONING]. We had to pick a hiding spot. The last one standing—the last human standing—would inherit everything. I chose the dark, silent recording studio in the basement. Away from them all. When it was time to pick special powers, my family chose powerful weapons or pocket dimensions full of supplies. I chose Bio-Stasis. It slowed my cells to a crawl, and my body along with them. My stepbrother's fiancée, Chloe, called me an idiot. "Hiding from your family and picking a useless power? You're on a suicide mission." They threw a zombie-slaying party upstairs, already celebrating an inheritance they hadn't even won. Until, one by one, they turned. And started tearing each other apart. What they didn't know... was that I'd rigged the game from the start. The only way to win was to stay completely silent.