Without Remorse

After a venomous snake bites me, my husband, Daniel Dawson, injects the only antivenom into my adopted sister, Grace Winton. Before I black out, I see my parents, Daniel, and my son, Ethan Dawson, all gathered around Grace, while I lie alone on the grass, completely ignored. When I come to, my colleague shakes his head and tells me the toxin has already spread. Within 48 hours, my body will begin to rot from the inside, and I'll die in unbearable pain. I give up the conservative plan and swallow a potent painkiller instead. Over the next two days, I transfer the hospital my grandfather gave me and every asset in my name to Grace. I divorce Daniel and place both his and Ethan's hands into Grace's. When I put Grace's name on the amyotrophic lateral sclerosis treatment protocol I've spent five years developing, they finally smile, hold my hand, and tell me we're finally a real family. I stay silent and only smile at them. I wonder what their faces will look like two days later when they see my body.

I was the real daughter of the Sinclair family, yet I was the one abandoned when their fake daughter and I were kidnapped and taken to the top of a building. They were given a choice between the two of us, and they chose to save the fake daughter, letting me be pushed off from the eighteenth-floor balcony. Even though I survived, I was completely disappointed in them. Then, their attitudes changed overnight. My parents, who despised me, started asking me about my likes and dislikes. My brother who wished me dead, started suddenly giving me precious jewelry. Even my fiancé, who always claimed I was nothing compared to the fake daughter, started to prepare for our wedding. To say I was confused was an understatement.

While preparing for the SATs at the library, my brother is accidentally shot and injured, causing him to bleed profusely. I pass by this scene but turn a blind eye and quicken my pace to leave. This is because in my previous life, when I saw him, I rushed him to the hospital in a panic. He had intracranial hemorrhaging, and he urgently needed surgery. I quickly called my mom, the top neurosurgeon in the city, begging her to come to the hospital as soon as possible. However, she thought I was jealous that she had taken my adopted sister to the beach instead of spending time with me. She also believed I had fabricated the story about my brother's injury, and thus refused to return. By the time my dad and the rest of the family hurried to the hospital, it was too late for rescue efforts—my brother had passed away. The whole family blamed me for his death. They were convinced that I had deliberately misled my mom and delayed his critical treatment. When my mom returned from out of town, she lost her composure and pushed me down the stairs, watching coldly as I bled to death. After opening my eyes again, I had returned to the day my brother was shot at the library.

On my 18th birthday, my triplet brothers adopted a fifteen-year-old orphan girl. To make their newly adopted sister happy, Matthew gave her my coming-of-age gift, Daniel sent away the dog that had grown up with me because she was allergic, and William coldly told me to get out of the house and stop making their little sister upset. I didn't say another word. I just packed my bags and left. They all thought I was just throwing a tantrum and would be back in a few days. My three brothers canceled their busy work schedules to take the orphan girl abroad to relax her nerves. They went to see the Northern Lights in Alaska – the place I had always dreamed of visiting. Many days later, when they returned from their vacation, they suddenly learned that I had volunteered for a twenty-year medical research mission in a remote frontier. I would never be coming home again. That night, they fell apart.

As the long-lost daughter of a wealthy family, I returned to my biological parents, only to watch their company collapse. Overwhelmed by massive debts, my dad jumped to his death. My brother was left crippled by vengeful creditors. My mother, unraveled, would one moment tear at my hair, cursing my existence, and the next, cling to me, sobbing and vowing to cherish me. To save them, I shredded my college acceptance letter and took every job I could find. When my brother's condition worsened, I auctioned off my virginity to fund his surgery. But when I arrived at the hospital with the money, I overheard their conversation. "Kathy works day and night to earn money. I don't think she is after our fortune," said my mom. "She dropped out of college and ruined her future for us. Maybe we should stop this." My brother, supposedly half-paralyzed, stood by the window in a crisp suit. He shrugged. "She chose to skip college and work like that. What's it got to do with us?" My "dead" father broke his silence. "We need to be careful. People like her are like leeches. Once they latch on, you can't shake them off. Let's keep watching." I listened quietly, tossing the pendant they had given me into the trash. I had repaid the debt of my birth, and now, we were done.

I was diagnosed with Wolf-Soul Decay Syndrome on my birthday, which meant I was on the verge of death. But my older brother, Alaric Sinclair, bought the only tube of Moonviolet serum—a serum capable of saving my life—just so he could give it to my younger adopted sister, Megan Sinclair. He thought I faked my illness in order to attract everyone's attention. Because of that, I stole the serum when no one was looking and took it. That night, Megan drove away from home in tears, only to be met with a fatal car accident that took her life. I was cast out of my childhood home by my parents. Even my fiance, Kenneth Ravenscroft, who once vowed to protect me, hated my guts. Upon returning to my own home, I ended up dying in a fire that broke out. But what I don't expect is that I've traveled back in time to the third day before my demise. During those three days, I've given up on everything. When I mention that I can give away my spot at the marking ceremony, Kenneth praises me for being an understanding fiancee. When I hand over my design company, which is in the top 500 rank, to Megan, my parents are satisfied with me. "You've finally learned how to be selfless, Evie," they say. But Alaric grabs my hand and roars, "Didn't you claim that you'd never give those things away unless you die? Why are you giving them away now?" That's because I'm about to die, dear brother.

Three days before my wedding with Luca D'Angelo, I accidentally stumble upon him having an affair with my best friend, Delila Rusconi. Delila can be seen sitting on Luca's lap in his office. She caresses his chin in a seductive manner. "Delila, I told you before that Katerina must never find out about our affair!" Luca pinches Delila's fingers together, his voice carrying a strong hint of warning. Delila just giggles before kissing his hand. She replies flippantly, "I know, I know. You have no choice but to marry her in order to gain control over the coastal port trades. I completely understand." I inhale sharply before fleeing the scene in panic. Tears brim in my eyes instantly. I can't believe that Luca, the man who's loved and doted on me for three whole years, has chosen to marry me solely just to make more profits despite the fact that we only get to know each other because of a marriage alliance. The future plans I have in store for us, as well as my rose-tinted fantasies about romance, are completely shattered because of the scene I've just witnessed. Tears continue to stream down my cheeks as I call my dad on the phone. "Papa, I'll heed your order and give up on the marriage alliance with the D'Angelos. I'll return to Chitchily in three days and carry out my responsibilities as a family member."

When I was born, I was already a certified liar. That's a fact that everyone seems to agree with. The truth is, my mom, who's a scientist, has implanted advanced chips into me and my fraternal twin brother, Ryan Hartwell, when we were still babies. By right, as long as we lie or make mistakes, our mom will receive the devil signal from the chips. Then, she'll administer electrical shocks as a form of punishment. Ryan's chip often transmits the smiley signal. Even if he destroys our mom's research equipment and pins the blame on me, his chip still has the smiley branded on it. Meanwhile, when I reach home ten minutes later than usual because I had to help out a classmate, my chip transmits the scary devil signal. The next thing I know, I've already crippled to the floor from the intense pain caused by the electrical shock. At first, I'll still explain to Mom what happened. But she often exclaims, "Don't think you can pull off clever little tricks just like that gambling father of yours! The chip is ten thousands times smarter than you! The punishments will only be branded into your bones if the pain is searing enough! What I'm doing is saving your life!" After suffering from the pain countless times, I get brainwashed into thinking that I really am a liar and a troublemaker by nature. On the night of Christmas Eve, Mom comes to the attic to tell Ryan to join the family at the table for the Christmas dinner. That's when my asthma suddenly acts up, causing me to stumble and fall to the floor. "I… I can't breathe… Save me, Mom…" But Mom just coldly gazes at the devil signal that she has just received on her phone. Then, she dials the shock value to the maximum. "You don't have asthma at all! Ugh, you're kicking up another fuss just to attract attention! Seriously, you never change your ways!" After that, she takes Ryan's hand and leads him out of the attic. Soon, she slams the door heavily behind her. As I suffer from asphyxiation while on my deathbed, I can't help but think that Mom is right. After all, my chip has just transmitted the devil signal. Maybe the asthma attack really is just a figment of my imagination. I've always been a bad girl who loves lying to others, after all. When Mom finds out that this is the last time I've ever lied to her, she must be really happy, right?

On my mother’s seventieth birthday party, I ran around handling various matters, paying out of pocket and putting in all the work. I did not even have the time to sit down and drink a sip of water. When I finally found the time to surprise her, I prepared eighty-eight grams of gold jewelry as her gift. Just as I was about to give it to her, I heard her talking to the other relatives. “See that? My daughter is truly my sweetheart. She woke up so early this morning to bake me this cake. I wouldn’t trade this cake for gold.” Our relatives immediately began praising my younger sister, Jessie Radley, for being so devoted. Only a couple of them pushed back. “Why aren’t you praising your eldest daughter, Mary? I heard she handled the entire birthday party.” “Tch. She only knows how to muddle through things. None of it had been done to my liking. Jessie is the good one. She got up at seven in the morning just to bake me this cake.” I turned around and walked away from the doorway. Since she loved Jessie so much, she could pay for this birthday party, worth eighty thousand dollars.

I train so hard that even in my sleep, I recite medical formulas. At long last, victory is mine! I am the champion of the Healers' Competition. But just as they place the trophy in my hands, my twin sister, Sasha Flanders, strides onto the stage and snatches it away. With brazen conviction, she declares, "I'm the true champion! My sister swapped the competitor's information to steal this honor from me!" The audience gasps in an uproar. Before my stunned eyes, the judges revoke my title on the spot. I don't yet realize that this competition is no ordinary contest—it is the Alpha King Leonard Muller's secret trial, one that is meant to select his future Luna Queen. Rumor paints him as monstrous—hideous of face, bloodthirsty in nature, and treats women as nothing more than breeding machines. It is said this is why he has never taken a mate. His summons arrived this very night, commanding Sasha to attend the coronation ceremony as Luna Queen. My Beta fiance, Timothy Newsom, turns ashen with rage. The next day, Sasha comes to flaunt herself before me, her neck freshly marked, carrying Timothy's scent. "Oh, my poor sister. Your precious fiance marked me. What will you do now? You're turning 25 in three days. By our pack's law, if no one claims you, you'll be thrown to the impotent, deranged, and broken wolves no one else will have. You'll be worse than trash." Her shrill laughter cracks in my ears, squeezing the breath from my chest. But I will not let that break me. I went straight to my parents. "If Sasha dares not to be Luna Queen… then let me take her place."