Under The Oak Tree Novel Spoilers Novels & Stories

When I was two months pregnant, the Alpha, Lucas, asked me to give blood to his childhood friend. She pretended to have been injected with wolfsbane by a rogue werewolf and required the Luna's blood to recover. “Jessica, your physical constitution is good; hurry and give Lilith a blood transfusion!” “A real Luna wouldn’t just stand by and watch her die!” Lucas and his friends pushed me into the operating room. “It’s just a blood transfusion; it won’t harm the fetus. Even if we lose it, we can have another, but Lilith must survive.” I gave up struggling, watching my blood being drawn and transferred into Lilith's body. After waking up, I dragged myself home, only to be pushed to the ground by Lucas. I ended up with a miscarriage. That was the moment I decided to give up on this relationship.

I didn't think much of her during the interview but my boyfriend decided to hire her. Not only was her work substandard, but her attitude toward me was hostile. I found out later that she was his ex.

At my three-year anniversary dinner with Vincent Hartwell, his secretary deliberately poured red wine over my head. I finally reached my breaking point and slapped her in front of all the guests. That very night, the incident spread like wildfire through high society circles. When my mother saw the leaked bedroom photographs of the two of them, the shock triggered a heart attack. She collapsed and died on the spot. When I learned the news, I sank to the floor and cried all night. Meanwhile, Vincent stayed by his secretary's side, comforting her. When he came home, he brushed past my disheveled state without a glance, loosened his tie, and spoke in that careless tone of his. "I've already buried the story. Don't let it happen again. "I have a meeting tonight. Pull yourself together and get to the villa within thirty minutes. Madison needs you." As he walked toward the door, he added over his shoulder, "She's fragile right now because of the pregnancy. If you do anything to harm my only child, I won't forgive you." I listened without crying or arguing. However, after he left, I pulled the divorce agreement from my drawer that I had prepared weeks ago. Beneath it lay my own positive pregnancy test. 'Vincent, I'll leave to find my biological father in three days.' This time, I was really leaving. I would make sure my father paid for every grievance I had endured over the last few years.

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.

In our five years of marriage, I had given in to my husband, John, for a grand total of three times. The first time was during my pregnancy. He had taken his ex-girlfriend Stacy, who had once taken three bullets for him, back home and cared for her. When I became angry, he immediately sent her away once she recovered. The second time was after childbirth, when I was ready to return to work. To repay a favor, he gave the position I had worked years for to Stacy. He said it was so I could rest well. I looked at my son, who needed me, and I conceded. The third time was during our son’s birthday. In front of the entire company, he had announced that Stacy was his wife, all so she could establish herself in the company. I gave him two choices: divorce or send her away. Without hesitation, he chose the latter and immediately sent her abroad. The fourth time was when my father suddenly had a heart attack and urgently needed surgery. He disappeared again. I searched everywhere for him to cover the hospital expenses, and I finally discovered that he had gone to the airport to pick up a pregnant Stacy, who was returning to the country. Because of that, my father missed the best chance for treatment and died. I was done giving in. I disguised the divorce agreement as our son’s medical bill and tricked him into signing it. No compensation or apology would matter. I did not wish to have him near my son or myself again.

On the day of his funeral, I discovered that my fiance, Zachary Gray, had come back to life. His friend says teasingly, "You sure know how to stage an act, Zachary. Your fiancee cried so much over your fake death that she almost went blind!" Zachary smiles indifferently and says, "Stepping into marriage is like taking one foot into the grave. Of course, I have to have some fun first." I stand in the shadows and watch him bend down to kiss another woman. He then points at the tombstone I had carefully and painstakingly carved for him, laughing until he can't catch his breath. Watching him, I feel like an utter fool. I take out my phone and call my father. "Dad, since Zachary is dead, our engagement is null. Let's pull out of the collaboration with the Gray family's company."

Sean Benson and I have been betrothed since we were kids. But the older we grow, the further he stays away from me. On the day of our engagement banquet, he's found to be making out with Selena White, the heiress of the White family, backstage. This time, I no longer break down in tears. Instead, I just close the door properly for them before returning to the banquet hall silently. After that, I rip the pregnancy report that's pressed beneath a gift box into shreds. On our wedding day, all the guests are all smiles. Sean, however, is the only exception. He maintains a stormy expression the whole time, seemingly not wanting to marry me at all. I know that if it's not the fact that he gets to secure the position as the Benson heir, he will never make any wedding vows with me in the church. But no one expects me not to show up at all, even though the wedding ceremony is already starting. Sean calls me on the phone impatiently afterward. "Where the hell are you? If you don't show up soon, I'm going to cancel the wedding right away!" I merely chuckle softly without saying anything. Then, I throw my phone aside and accept the wedding bouquet that's passed to me. What Sean doesn't know is that my unborn child will be calling another man "daddy" soon.

After I landed in the hospital—again—from working myself into the ground, Jacob swore he was done playing house stockbroker. "Starting tomorrow, I'll do anything. Haul bricks, deliver pizza, whatever. I'm not letting you carry this alone." His eyes were glassy as he stormed out of the exam room like he was about to save the day or something. Then the doctor walked in and handed me a report. I was pregnant. Again. Heart racing, I chased after Jacob... and froze. He was standing outside some super VIP room. The same guys who used to bang on our door for money were suddenly all respectful. "Mr. Klein, should we block her door again tomorrow?" Jacob twirled our engagement ring around his finger. "No need. She already lost one baby paying off those debts. The test's over. Time she knew who I really am." Then my best friend—Lillian Morvain—strolled out and wrapped her arms around his waist like she belonged there. "Jacob, don't go soft. Your tests usually last at least five years. What if she's just another gold digger? Plus... I'd miss you." He hesitated. Smirked. "Fine. We'll do it your way. She's not going anywhere anyway." I stood there, clutching my stomach, sliding down the wall like the air had been punched out of me. Later, I pushed open the office door. "Dr. Spencer, I need a termination. Three days from now."

My husband's true love goes missing. He traps me in a cave to make me repent for my sins. "Olivia would never have gone missing if not for you! You'd better stay in there and repent for your sins!" No matter how I scream and try to escape, I'm ignored. Ultimately, I die due to cobra venom. Unexpectedly, my husband loses his mind when he sees my body and the twisted look on my face.

Three years ago, my father marries me off to Evan Blackwell, the CEO of Blackwell Group, for the family's interests. Everyone thinks I'm done for because Evan is known for being ruthless and cruel. Yet, he's nothing but gentle to me, and he never raises his voice at me. He even has my initials, SH, tattooed on his chest. Every year on our anniversary, fireworks bloom across the city right on the dot. They spell out my name and the loving words he dedicates to me. On our third anniversary, the fireworks suddenly replace my name, Selena Holloway, with Serena Harroway. Before I can ask about it, Evan immediately calls his subordinates and tears into them. "What's going on? How could you mess up my wife's name? Do you want to lose your jobs?" I hastily tell him it's fine and that the thought is what truly matters. In the end, he lets them off the hook. However, he pushes me until my legs are shaking and my voice is gone that night. When I wake from the night that leaves my whole body humming, he's already seated at his desk and buried in work. He asks me to grab a folder for him, yet I open the wrong drawer and stumble upon an old photo album. It contains intimate photos of him and a young woman who looks strikingly like me. There's a confession on the back of every single picture. "I miss you so much, Serena."