Unscramble Tragic

When my parents call to tell me they are taking me to my childhood friend, Oliver Holland's house to meet his blind date, he is still asleep beside me. I think they are joking and whisper, "Oliver, they said they've found you someone to date." He gives a lazy hum and pulls me into his arms. "Gerry, help me pick out something to wear later. And fix my hair, too." When I freeze, Oliver opens his eyes and lets out a short, mocking laugh. "What's wrong with you? We're just sleeping together. You don't actually think I'm going to marry you, do you?"

My mom made me pretend to be a boy since I was a child, all in hopes of winning my father’s love. As I was about to graduate from college, I decided to leave the country for good. However, I never expected my secret crush to tie me up.

I was diagnosed with stomach cancer and needed a total gastrectomy. My husband, who was hailed as a rising star in the medical field, personally performed the surgery on me. However, after the operation, my health only worsened. He told me that the cancer had spread too quickly, and there was no hope left. It was not until I accidentally came across a hidden medical report and a massive insurance policy that I learned the truth—I never had stomach cancer. Not only had he removed my stomach, but he had also taken my uterus. Desperate, I confronted him, asking why he did that to me. He held his mistress in his arms, looking at me with disgust as he said, "If your father weren't the director, do you think I would've married you? You're not even worthy of being in the same room as Mabel. After one more surgery to remove your stomach, I'll be promoted to chief physician. "Didn't you claim to love me so much? I'm just using your body to help me and Mabel get ahead... I'm doing you a favor." Then, he and his mistress threw me off the building, making it look like a suicide. When I opened my eyes again, I had gone back to the day of my stomach surgery.

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."

Abductors bind me in a basement, subjecting me to the torment of dozens. Meanwhile, my husband, Evan Foster, dines by candlelight with his lover, Carmen Locke. My abductors grant me one chance to call for help, and I dial Evan's number. I'm certain he will come for me. I believe Evan would give his life for me, as he once vowed that his future held no meaning without me. Clinging to hope, I call the number etched in my heart. However, Evan scolds me for interrupting their date. "You think I'll come get you? Dream on. Maybe I'll bother to collect your body if you die out there." His words crush me, and I do die. Five days later, Evan stands before the autopsy table, grimacing at the mangled remains before him. Even as the police department's finest forensic expert, having dissected thousands of bodies, he condemns the killer's brutality. Yet, despite his cold dismissal of my desperate plea over the phone, he now wears a look of pity. Evan, if you knew these fragments belonged to me, would you still find me worthy of your compassion?

On my wedding day, the first love of my boyfriend appeared and declared she wanted my place at the altar. Sobbing theatrically, she pleaded, "Claire, I’m seriously ill. You have your whole life to be with Evan. Just let me have this wedding." And my boyfriend backed her up without hesitation. "Claire, you’re already pregnant with my child, and we’ve signed the marriage papers. You’ve got everything you need. This wedding? It doesn’t matter." The guests gawked, while I stood there as the punchline of their jokes. But instead of causing a scene, I kept my composure. That same day, I booked an abortion and looked his first love straight in the eye with a smile. "Sure, take the wedding, and take him too. He’s all yours."

My father, the Beta of our pack, had sworn our bloodline to serve the Alpha King, Andrew Amadeus. By tradition, I was destined to be his mate. The night before our mating ceremony, I risked everything to save my stepsister, Emma Hughes, crossing into rogue territory—Wild Nest. I fought fiercely but was overpowered. At the ceremony, a cursed projection stone revealed my assault by the rogues. The pack recoiled in disgust. Andrew, seething with rage, rejected me and marked Emma instead, making her Luna Queen. To them, I was a disgrace, unworthy of an Alpha’s mark. As they called for my exile, Andrew’s younger brother, Anthony Amadeus, stepped forward. "Sophia Hughes, I have loved you in silence. By the name of the moon, I vow to be your mate for eternity." His words saved me. A year later, the healer told me I could finally carry a pup. Overjoyed, I rushed to find Anthony—only to overhear a chilling conversation. "Anthony, we helped the rogues infiltrate, lured Sophia to Wild Nest, and spread the video. She trusts you now… did we make a mistake?" He sighed. "For Emma to become Queen, Sophia had to be sacrificed. But it doesn’t matter—I’ll spend my life making it up to her." Betrayal cut deeper than any wound. My suffering had been planned. But if they thought I was broken, they had underestimated me. I would carve my own fate—with claws bared.

The Beast King, Tharion Kael, has spent half his life on the battlefield, yet he has no heir. So, he summons every woman rumored to be blessed with fertility into the palace. Favored by fortune and against all odds, I, as a descendant of the Carp Clan, conceive. To keep me safe during my pregnancy, Tharion hides me away in a remote, deserted palace, guarded in secret by his Nightguards. But just as I am about to give birth, I unexpectedly crossed paths with the Vixen Consort, Lyra Swifttail, who wanders into the Forsaken Wing by mistake. She swishes her tail playfully, eyes sparkling with amusement as she looks at my round belly. Her smile is utterly captivating. "I didn't expect to find a little carp having an affair here…" With a spell, she drags me away, forcing me into my true form. Then, one by one, she scrapes the scales from my body until I am raw and bleeding. She has her catfolk attendant pour scalding oil over my wounds and orders guards to violate me until I am left broken like a rag. When I finally lose consciousness, she slashes me open with a claw and rips the stillborn child from my womb. She presents it with both hands to Tharion, who has just come to visit. She says, "Your Majesty, what perfect timing. I caught a carp sneaking around the Forsaken Wing. This is her illegitimate child!"

I have a case of acute pancreatitis. I head to the hospital, but the doctors there refuse to treat me. Why? Because my husband is a doctor in the emergency room, and he's instructed everyone not to treat me. In my past life, he would show up with a single phone call. But, after his true love dies in an accident, he pushes the blame on me. On my mother's birthday, he poisons my whole family and repeatedly stabs me with a scalpel. "Does it hurt? Jackie was in much more pain before her death. If not for you, she wouldn't have gone out in my place. You killed her, so I'm making you and your family die for her!" When I open my eyes, I'm back to the day when I get acute pancreatitis after drinking the bar dry for his sake. This time, he runs to Jackie Morse without hesitation. He thinks he's made the right choice, but he later comes to me and grovels at my feet, begging me to take him back.

On the day Tristan Spallone, the head of a mafia family, and I mark our fifth wedding anniversary, the manager of the Spallone family vault calls. Something that was stored away for a long time has finally come due, and Tristan is to retrieve it. He's so busy that he barely has a moment to breathe, so I go in his place. What I bring back is an old roll of film. The manager warned me that if it wasn’t developed soon, its age might cause it to be ruined beyond recovery. But when I have them developed, frame after frame is filled with Winnie Leigh, his first love. Her smile looks so sweet in those pictures that they nearly suffocate me. What about me, one may ask? I never once appeared on his albums. The office door slams open. Tristan bursts in, already out of breath. "Anna, is your life really so empty that you have to dig through mine?" I turn toward him, the man who's usually so composed. I neither question him nor break down. Instead, I speak slowly. "We're getting a divorce." Tristan frowns and thrusts the stack of photos into the shredder. He then looks back at me. "They're gone. Do you still want a divorce?" A bitter smile tugs at my lips. "Yes."