When I'm Sixty-four Chord

At an interview, my husband, Julian White, reveals that he has already allocated his assets properly. The host in charge of interviewing him makes a joking remark that he must have left large amounts of money to his son and wife. With a gentle smile on his face, Julian denies it softly. "I only left them enough money to sustain their lives. The rest of the assets are reserved for my adoptive daughter, Rosy, only. "This is a promise between me and her mom. I had promised her that I'd make sure her daughter would lead a lavish and worry-free life at her grave." When I hear Julian's statement, I pause in my actions of preparing a meal for the children. Then, I look up at the television in disbelief. Meanwhile, Julian is prattling on and on about his deceased first love, Vivian Bennett. Some time later, the host speaks up again. "Does your wife know about this?" Julian is left feeling taken aback for a moment. But his smile doesn't change at all. "She won't disagree with my decision. Over the years, she's been nothing but great to Rosy. Heck, she's even better than most caretakers out there." I take off my apron and walk out of the kitchen. Then, I scoop up my son, Jude White, who's in the middle of picking up toys for Rosy, into my arms and return to my room. It's been six long years, and I've finally had enough with this family. Since Julian doesn't intend to give me and Jude anything, then he can find himself another "caretaker".

From an awkward, insecure teen to a fully grown woman—she's come a long way. After everything she’s been through, she knows now that the cheap love of her past doesn’t define her worth. Her past may be messy, even painful, but just look at the woman she’s chosen to become: strong, beautiful, and unshakable. It’s hard for her to give love a second chance—especially after building walls so high. And then he said, "I know it’s too much to ask for a second chance. Deep down, I know how badly I hurt you. My heart aches every time I replay what I said, what I did. I wish I could take it all back. I know you're scared and hesitant—but please… let me in again."

At seven months pregnant, I overhear my Alpha mate, Christopher Scott, secretly planning to break tradition by promoting his secretary to a Beta and handing the Luna's duties over to her. His friend urges him to reconsider. "Luna is about to give birth. Isn't it inappropriate to throw a promotion banquet for Scarlett right now?" But Christopher dismisses his concerns. "What can I do? Scarlett is carrying my pup too. I can't just ignore her. "Besides, with Rebecca's temper, she'd definitely throw a huge fit if she found out beforehand. I might as well wait until she has delivered the pup and is too exhausted to interfere, and only then will I hold Scarlett's promotion ceremony. I say nothing. I pretend I know nothing at all and walk away. On the day I go into labor, Christopher holds Scarlett Lane's promotion ceremony at the pack's most sacred altar. While the entire pack is celebrating Scarlett's rise, the doors of the altar are suddenly kicked open. My father, the Alpha King, walks in. "Christopher Scott, is this how you treat my daughter?"

When we were about to head to the amusement park, my Beta boyfriend, Drew, brought along a woman and her daughter. There happened to be one seat short in the car. Drew told me to get out and give my seat to the two of them. “Laura has a kid with her. Let them go first. I’ll come back for you later,” he said. I calmly stepped out and watched as the car slowly pulled away from the pack. Three hours later, they arrived at the amusement park for the fireworks and feast. When a friend asked Drew why he still hadn’t come back to get me, Drew was patiently helping Laura light a giant firework. He wasn’t in a rush at all and even said, “It’ll be fine if I pick Sienna up later. She won’t mind. I’ll coax her a bit, and she’ll stop being mad.” Anger only worked on people who cared about someone. My dad, mom, and brother never cared, and now, not even Drew cared anymore. It was time for me to leave for good.

After I finished the Luna training that every she-wolf dreamed, I went to my Alpha, Damien, with a request. To break our mate bond. "All this, just because I missed your ceremony to help my late brother's mate, Lilith, with the rogues in her territory?" A smirk twisted his lips, his voice a low rasp. I nodded, silent. "I gave my brother my word before he died. I swore I would protect Lilith. I can't break that vow! Why can't you understand?" he whispered, sighing heavily. "Stop being so childish! Why can't you be reasonable, like Lilith is?" I pushed him away with a chilling calm. Ten years. For ten years after our bond was confirmed, I gave up everything. Every hobby, every dream… all to learn how to be his Luna. Everyone in the pack thought I was helpless without him. That I couldn't even survive without his protection. But this time, I was done. He didn't know I'd already contacted the neutral packs in another land. I was going somewhere his Alpha scent could never reach me.

The Sullivan brothers had always treated me like I was their whole world. That changed the day I was diagnosed with an aggressive brain tumor. The pain soon grew unbearable, and I was told I might lose my memories if I opted for surgery. I reached out to the brothers. I did not want to forget them, and I needed their help. However, when the call connected, the only thing I heard was an icy, sharp voice. "Summer, it's Yvonne's birthday today. Can you not ruin it for once?" I blacked out from the pain. When I woke up in the hospital, there was a message from Yvonne on my phone. "Summer, the boys gave me these lucky charms for protection." Attached was a photo of three silver pendants, each engraved with the brothers' initials. I knew those pendants well. I had spent seven hours in the freezing rain just to get them blessed. That was the moment I gave up. I went abroad alone for the surgery, and with it, all my memories of the brothers faded away. I completely forgot about them until one day, three strangers knocked on my door, begging like madmen for my forgiveness.

All my life, I’ve watched love happen to everyone but me. My sister, my friends… they were adored, spoiled, cherished. I thought I’d found my own happy ending—until the man I loved for five years betrayed me. And he didn’t just betray me… he did it with my best friend. On my birthday. Now, I’m drowning my heartbreak in the dim glow of an expensive club, my best friend Dante by my side, then i bump into him Damien Kings. Cold, devastatingly handsome, and the kind of man who makes the air feel dangerous. He offers to sober him up . I should say no. I should walk away. Instead, I let him pull me into his world—into his arms—just for one reckless night. By morning, I’m gone. I think I’ve escaped. But then my father, Senator Quinn, drops a bomb: I’m getting married. And my groom… is the man from last night. Damien Kings. He doesn’t look surprised. I, on the other hand, see nothing but a trap. A game I didn’t agree to play. I’m not ready to love again—not him, not anyone. But Damien doesn’t seem like the kind of man who takes no for an answer. And as much as I want to hate him… my heart might not survive what happens when love comes calling.

Arthia Violette, a Fine Arts student, majoring in Painting, has always been sure that her sole purpose in this life is to become a wife. She would always cry over proposals and wedding scenes in movies or books. She believes in marriage and has always been so fond of marrying in her early 20's. But at 20, she still has the NBSB badge. And just when she had already given up dating and just decided to wait for what we call in God's time, Antonio Nicholas, an Architecture student, suddenly slid through her Instagram DM's. Not only that, he slid into her DM's, but he also turns out to be the son of her father's colleague, and Av being a die-hard fan of destiny, thought that maybe it was her shot at it. It was the start of everything. And finally, at 21, Av got a boyfriend! And at 23, she got married to the man of her dreams. At 24, she had her gallery, art workshop, and art store. She had her first successful major exhibit. She's living the life she has always dreamed of. What could possibly go wrong?

Every Thanksgiving, my husband, Salvatore, brings home a showgirl from one of his clubs. He makes me kneel and serve them drinks. A lesson, he calls it, in how to please a man. This was the eighth Thanksgiving, and this time, he brought back a girl poured into a tight leather dress. "She doesn't have any decent jewelry," Salvatore announced. "Give her your heirloom diamond ring. Your grandmother's pearl earrings, too. And take off that silk choker for her." He smirked. "And listen, she's young, doesn't know the rules. You'll have to show her the ropes. Especially how to handle a man in bed." Every member of the Genovese family was watching, waiting for my humiliation. I didn't disappoint. I opened my mouth and asked Salvatore for a divorce. Salvatore let out a sharp, ugly laugh, his eyes full of contempt. "Francesca, you pull this same shit every time," he jeered. "Your act is pathetic. Even more dramatic than your performance in bed." He leaned in. "You really want to divorce me? Fine. I'll give you five million in cash if you actually walk out that door." The living room erupted in laughter. They all said I was playing hard to get, that I didn't know my place. But they didn't know. This was the 88th time I had asked for a divorce, and it was the first time I truly meant it.

“You murderer!” No A resounding slap followed those words from Katrina’s Mother-in-law. The entire extended family gasped in shock but no one made a move to help. Not even Katrina’s husband, Damon Winchester. He just stood there, watching lazily, like he always did while his mother berated her for every little thing. But this wasn’t little, no. This was more than the fine china dishes that were one of the family’s heirlooms which Katrina broke last thanksgiving and earned her harsh insults from her mother-in-law. This was nothing like the family dinner she made last Christmas that caused half the kitchen to catch fire, needing a renovation. This couldn't be compared to that afternoon in summer, when she knocked over an antique vase while dusting, freezing as it cracked clean down the middle and her mother-in-law murmured that Katrina’s touch spoiled anything of value. No. This was the death of the only woman who loved someone as unlovable as Katrina. The woman who raised her. The woman who constantly fought for Katrina’s place in the Winchester Family even when she didn’t belong. Alana Winchester, Damon’s grandmother. Like every other thing, it was all her fault. Everything Katrina touched turned to ashes.