Where Is She From

A few days before my postpartum period ended, I found two plane tickets to Mirelia tucked inside Daryl’s wallet. I was secretly delighted. I thought he had planned a surprise for me. But on the very day I was supposed to recover, he told me that his company had suddenly sent him on a business trip. I tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep—only to see his first love post on social media. [Finally fulfilled our promise to kiss at Saint Vyron Cathedral. Thank you, God. After all this time, it’s still you.] The photo showed the two of them holding hands and kissing. I didn’t confront him right away. Instead, I turned to look at my sleeping daughter beside me, then picked up my phone. [Dad, I've made up my mind. I'll take over the family business.]

Kat was use to moving but it never got any easier. She dreaded having to constantly start over. She had all but given up on a forever place to call home. One day when her husband comes home and hands her a set of keys and a deed. He informs her this move would be the last, she was over the moon. It wasn’t long after moving in that she found her dream of a forever home was going to quickly turn into her worst nightmare. What was watching from underneath the floorboard?

In my last life, my sister and I got adopted into two very different worlds. My mom? The "cool" type. Let me perm my hair in elementary school, signed off on a nose job in middle school, and shoved me toward one of Northport's richest heirs right after college. Ella's mom? Hardcore strict. Pulled her out of a fling with some delinquent and married her off to a quiet professor with a just-decent paycheck. Ella hated it. Wanted my life so bad. So when I ended up in the hospital pregnant, she used her shiny doctor title to kill me—and my baby. Then boom—I woke up, and we were back to adoption day. This time, she dove for the mom she thought handed me the dream. What she didn't know? That "cool mom" she worshipped was straight-up a monster.

My roommate won first prize in the national lottery, a full 100 million dollars. She quit her job on the spot, blocked her boss, and said to me, "Amanda, from now on, we'll live in Luxuria Heights, eating the best food and living it up." We went on shopping sprees at Hermès and treated Michelin restaurants like our daily canteen. On moving day, she told me to go ahead to the top-floor luxury apartment and wait for her. She said she needed to pick up a package. Excited, I entered the password she had given me. "Beep. Incorrect password." I was just about to try again. Then, the door opened. The person who came out was not my roommate but a stranger in a suit. He looked at me and frowned. "Who are you? Why do you have the password to my home?" I was stunned. "This is Lydia Zaydn's apartment. Who are you?" The man's expression turned strange. "Lydia Zaydn? I've lived here for five years. I've never heard of that name."

"Wider, Millie. Yes, that's it." I lay weakly on the examination table, my hands unconsciously gripping the sheets. The voice behind me was low and restrained, but it made my ears burn. This examination position was too embarrassing. My buttocks were forced to arch high like some kind of submissive gesture. "Doctor, I can't open any wider..." I bit my lower lip, my voice trembling deliberately. I could see my reflection in the metal bars of the examination table. My messy hair stuck to my flushed cheeks as my eyes shone with a watery, dreamy glow.

"I've thought about it. Please draft up a divorce agreement for me, Mr. Chastain," Carina Sherwood says to her divorce attorney, Leo Chastain. It's her fifth wedding anniversary with Aster Ducant, but Carina spends it at the lawyer's office instead because Aster is busy having fun with his secretary, Stella Winters, at home. Carina is his wife, but she ends up being the one chased out of the house. They have been married for five years, but Aster hasn't announced their marriage to the people at the company. At first, Carina thinks of bringing it up to him. However, it just takes a few sentences from Aster for her to know that there's no need for that anymore. "Stella's home alone, and the electricity at her place just went out. She has nowhere else to go. I'm asking her to come over for dinner. You're fine with that, aren't you?" The best way Carina can think of to end the last five years of their relationship is through divorce.

I caught my mate cheating on me with my step sister on the day of our anniversary and in return, he banished me from the pack! **** Zoey isn’t like every other wolf. She’s an omega but she doesn’t have wolf. On the day of her anniversary, her mate cheated on her and her step sister framed her for sleeping with another man! To save herself, she fled from the pack and a group of vampires attacked her and claimed that she belongs to their lord. Scared, she tried to fight them off and then she discovered she has a wolf! She defeats them but how did she end up in Alpha Graham’s pack? And why does everyone in the pack thinks she’s a vampire? She’s obviously a werewolf! Why can’t Alpha Graham stand her but why won’t he give her away to the vampire lord who claims to own her?

After a regrettable one-night stand with the school’s golden boy, Roman Knight, Reyna’s world turned upside down. When Roman denied ever knowing her, she was left heartbroken, bullied, shamed, and forced to watch her reputation crumble. Giving her first time to someone who tossed her aside made everything worse. Years later, Reyna Styles is no longer the shy, broken girl, she’s the most sought-after fashion designer in the country, exuding confidence and power. When fate brings Roman back into her life, he acts friendly, but Reyna brushes him off, coolly pretending she doesn’t remember him at all. Now that she’s the one in control, the tables have truly turned. But has Reyna really closed her heart to the boy who once shattered her, or is there still a flicker of old feelings hiding beneath her icy exterior?

I've been married to Elliot Graves, the mafia drug lord in NYC, for the past eight years. But today—on our wedding anniversary—I received a photo of him with my best friend, Lila, celebrating as if they were the ones married. And in her arms was my son, Owen. I stared at the image, then typed out two words in reply. “How perfect.” Half a hour later, Elliot stormed through the front door. His voice thundered through the hallway. “Why do you always have to be so bitchy to Lila?” Owen, my own little boy, shoved at my leg and glared. “Bad Momma,” he said. “I wish Miss Lila was my real mommy.” I didn’t flinch. I simply walked over to the drawer, pulled out the crisp stack of papers I’d long prepared, and dropped them on the table with a quiet finality. “Alright,” I said, my voice calm. “It’s all my fault. Now, can I go?”

“Just...I have one question before this,” I pretend to not see his hurtful look, keeping my eyes on his chest, “...Please.” Would it change anything if I’m pregnant? I want to ask, I don’t know how. Taking a deep breath, I look up, just to catch him rolling his eyes with a sigh: “I don’t have time for your games, Scar.” Home? I laugh bitterly. We don’t have a home anymore, Sebastian. I built one for us, and you broke it.