Weasley Family Tree の小説・ストーリー

After my boyfriend, Jonathan Jenson, gets laid off from his work, I let him stay at my home out of the kindness of my heart. But he thinks he's the actual owner of my home now. Not only does he spend my money, but he also moves his family into my residence. The entire Jenson family spends my money nilly-willy, and yet they have the nerve to demand that I scrimp up every penny when it comes to my own needs and wants. Jonathan's mother even has the gall to slap me on the spot just because I bought myself a milkshake. "This is my son's money! What makes you think you have the right to spend it all?" I retaliate by freezing their bank cards and throwing their luggage out of my home. "What's with the ego, huh? You're leeching off me, yet you have the guts to trample all over me like that? In that case, get the hell out of my sight!"

Isabella Sinclair bears the surname of the second richest and most prestigious family in the country, but only that. His father was banished from the prominent family, for marrying his mother, a woman of humble origins. Which is why Isabella has never had any contact with her father's family. At just the age of ten, Isabella has been left alone and helpless, living on the street, because her parents have died and the bank has taken everything from her, due to the accumulated debts. Isabella's whole world has fallen apart, when something incredible happens. She receives a letter from her father's family, the wealthy Sinclair’s, inviting her to a unique family reunion, which will take place on a two-week cruise. Not having a roof over her head, Isabella decides to go without knowing the turn her life will take during this short trip, will meeting the Sinclair’s mean her salvation or her downfall?

At nineteen, I uncovered a secret that should have gotten me killed. Silas Kingston’s empire isn’t built on wealth... It’s built on blood, power, and the kind of secrets people vanish over. Now I’m trapped inside his world... caught between a man obsessed with control and a son ruthless enough to burn the world for what he desires. Every look feels like ownership. Every secret drags me deeper. And the longer I stay, the more I realize the real danger isn’t them... It’s how badly I want to belong to their darkness.

I've gotten bound to the exchange system three times in a row. In my previous lifetime, when Mom found out about it, she demanded that I swap my healthy body with Erica Jenkins, my disfigured younger sister. During my high school years, I threw myself into my studies while forced to endure the pressure caused by my partial blindness and my classmates' mockery. Even after I managed to become the top student of the state with my SAT scores, Mom forced me to swap my results with Erica. Some time later, Mom tricked me into exchanging my identity with a rich scion who had committed atrocious crimes. Because of that, I was imprisoned and later on, sentenced to death. Meanwhile, Mom and Erica lived happily ever after thanks to the wealth they had accumulated from my exchanges. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I get bound to the exchange system.

The enemies of my adopted sister's parents mistook me for her and kidnapped me. Before the rogues killed me, they gave me three phone calls for help. If anyone was willing to give me three hundred dollars, I could live. For the first call, I dialed my father. Father didn't listen to a word I said. He immediately unleashed a torrent of curses. "Where the hell are you? Get your ass back home right now for your sister's birthday!" For the second call, I dialed my brother. My brother listened silently to my plea for help, then hung up with a cold snort. "You're never around when the pack needs you. Who's going to fall for this act now?" For the third call, I dialed my fiancé. He didn't even answer. When I called again, I'd been blocked. The rogue wolf laughed at me. "Looks like being the eldest daughter of the Ashwood family doesn't mean much, does it?" After he tortured me to death, he stuffed my body into a suitcase and threw it in the river.

I’d been dead a month before my family even noticed. It wasn’t concern that brought them to that realization. It was my silence after the so-called “dinner” with Adam Rossi, the infamous mafia boss. My father scoffed like always,“She probably shacked up with that bastard. Too busy spreading her legs to pick up the damn phone.” My sister texted me a photo of them smiling under the Christmas tree, ornaments twinkling like nothing was wrong. Bitch, she wrote. You better talk Mr. Rossi into working with Dad, or you might as well be dead already. And my mother—once the softer one—was now colder than the frost on their windows. “I told you, we should’ve sent Gia to charm Mr. Rossi. Serena always screws things up.” They didn’t think I would die. Not until they found my body—broken, rotten, and forgotten—in Adam Rossi’s basement.

Mom, Dad, and Jesse—my younger sister—went out to sea on a trip, but they were caught in a tsunami, and all three perished in the accident. I was left all alone—just as I was about to start university—burdened with nothing but a mountain of debt. In the end, everything I had saved for my university tuition, along with the house Mom and Dad had left me, was taken by debt collectors. I was then forced to work in a shady factory, laboring 16 hours a day, sleeping in a shabby ten-person dorm, and surviving on nothing but thin, flavorless broth. I finally cleared the last of the debt when I accidentally discovered that Jesse—who was supposed to be dead—had appeared on television and become a famous dancer. Mom and Dad even gave an interview about her success. It turned out they had taken out a massive loan and faked their deaths to flee to Pravia for Jesse's dance studies, leaving the entire debt for me to deal with just as I was supposed to start university. I went to confront them, demanding the truth, but they threw me out like trash. I was then hit and killed by a speeding truck at the side of the road. "How could Lorraine be such a nuisance, not even having the decency to die far away from our doorstep?" I have been given another chance, reborn on the day they faked their deaths.

My son and daughter-in-law suddenly returned home after living abroad for more than a decade. They spoke with my granddaughter in Datrenan the entire time during dinner. My granddaughter said, "Dad, Grandma's ugly and dumb. She's embarrassing!" My son just laughed. "What can we do? Country people are like that." I didn't understand what they were talking about, so I simply smiled and placed a chicken wing into my granddaughter's bowl, trying to please her. However, she threw it in my face instead. "Gross! It's all your fault that Grandpa and Kasey can't be here!" I was stunned. My husband died decades ago, and… who was Kasey?

I was in my mate Zane’s study, dropping off an invitation for the Alliance gala, when his tablet lit up. A private group chat. “Party tonight at the Alliance’s best restaurant to celebrate Vivienne passing the trials.” Confused, I tapped open the group. There were only four people in it. My own parents, the pack’s Alpha Hector and Luna Freda. My fated mate Zane, the future Alpha. And Vivienne, my adopted sister. The Omega orphan I’d naively rescued years ago. My mother typed: “Good thing Hector used his council connections to get Vivienne the spot in the Alliance’s strategy department. Harper’s already strong enough. This is more important for Vivienne.” Zane replied instantly: “I wish Vivienne were my mate. She’s the one who needs an Alpha’s protection, not Harper. The Moon Goddess must have made a mistake.” I stared at the screen. The blood drained from my body. To my own parents and my mate, I was already an outsider. My strength and independence had become their excuse to shamelessly favor someone else.

My name is Elena, and I died at twenty-two. My parents forced me to take my foster sister’s place and traded me for a territorial alliance. My mate was the most volatile heir of the wolf packs. Beaten bloody and fading fast, I made my eighth call for help. At my adopted sister Seraphina’s birthday party, she played the recording of my final, groveling plea—and laughed. My parents listened to those desperate calls with nothing but irritation, dismissing each one as theatrics, an inconvenience unworthy of their time. My brother snarled over the phone, “Then just die already!” So I did. In the end, it was my three-year-old daughter who made the final call—using her smartwatch to video my mother, live-streaming the freezer where my severed head lay. Now, my spirit watches from above as they all, one by one, begin to unravel.