Zamasu Death

My mother was the most renowned forensic artist, yet she refused to acknowledge me as her daughter. On my eighteenth birthday, I was kidnapped and called her for help. However, my mother replied impatiently, "Today is Angelina's birthday. Just die if you want attention that badly." Later, all the bones in my body were shattered and scattered everywhere. When my mother reconstructed my face from the bones, she lost her mind.

On the day I vomit blood while eating on a livestream, I rise to the top in the platform streamer rankings. My older brother, Julian Everhart, bursts into my room, kicks over my streaming equipment, and violently shoves me to the floor. My fiance, Dominic Pierce, tells everyone on the livestream that I'm just trying to attract attention and rake up the views by faking my illness. In an instant, I get cyberbullied by everyone. The Internet users keep leaving malicious comments and cursing me to die. All of my photos are crossed out. Someone even dumps silver acid onto my front door. What everyone doesn't know is that I will die in three days because of Wolf Soul Deterioration. On the day I die, I start the livestream for the final time. Tens of millions of viewers rush into my stream instantly and begin cursing me out for my lack of morality. They bash me for faking my illness just to gain popularity and attract attention. But the next thing they know, my heart monitor flatlines right away. Everyone begins panicking instantly. Julian and Dominic shift into their wolf forms instantly and rush toward the hospital desperately begging me not to die.

My daughter hid inside the cabinet, her trembling hands dialing her father—James, the Alpha of our pack. "Mommy's bleeding a lot. Please, come back and save her," she pleaded. "I'm busy. Don't bother me," James said coldly. "If she's going to die, make sure she does it far away." As he wished, I never bothered him again. Because I really did die, right in front of our wedding photo. When he found out, he went mad, completely mad.

The day I find out I only have three days left to live, my mate comes home with a mate termination contract. He wants to break up with me and form a new bond with another she-wolf who's pretending to be dying—just to fulfill her so-called final wish. "Sweetheart, I don't have a choice," Caleb Lowe says, holding me in his arms. "Ruby's been poisoned with silver. She's got about a week left. Her dying wish is to marry me. But don't worry. You're the only one I love," he adds, looking at me with those sincere eyes. "Once the bonding ceremony is over and she's gone, we'll get back together—just like before." I look down and give a small laugh, then sign the termination contract. Forget it. I'm dying anyway. Who he ends up with doesn't matter anymore. I might as well let him have what he wants.

When I finally mustered the courage to confess my feelings to him, he just turned and walked away. When I finally emerged from the shadows and began a new chapter in my life, he was gone. Was it depression? I couldn’t believe it. I had to find out the truth about how he died.

My CEO husband bribed the doctor to take the heart that was meant for our daughter and give it to his childhood sweetheart’s daughter instead. That same day, my daughter suffered a heart attack and died in my arms. Meanwhile, his sweetheart’s daughter’s surgery was a success. My husband was so overjoyed that he gave bonuses to the entire company. My rage and grief were too much—I coughed up blood on the spot. The doctor later confirmed my worst fear: I was already in the late stages of leukemia. I didn’t have much time left. Holding my daughter’s urn, I wandered home in a daze. My husband? He took his childhood sweetheart and her daughter on a trip around the world to celebrate a new life.

On the day I'm set to go into labor, I plead to my husband, Timothy Langford, to take me to the hospital when I'm two centimeters dilated. However, a pissed-looking Timothy orders his men to lock me up in a sauna room that's heated to 356 degrees Fahrenheit. This is all because my estimated labor date is one day earlier than my widowed sister-in-law, Natalie Thornton. Since Timothy is bent on making Natalie's baby the oldest grandson of the Langford family, he instructs his men to inject me with 100 labor-suppressant injections. No matter how much I beg Timothy to spare our baby, he remains unmoved. Having received 99 injections, I feel a world of pain crashing down on me, seeing as I'm already suffering from contractions to begin with. But Timothy is the one who injects the final labor-suppressant injection into my huge pregnancy bump. As he gazes at my agonized and writhing form, he says coldly, "It's already difficult for Natalie to survive in this world after losing my older brother. As her brother-in-law, I'm merely fulfilling her wish to become a mother. "Still, you refuse to spare her. It's not enough for you to force her to survive overseas on her own; you even plan on receiving labor-induction injections just to give birth to your baby on an earlier date! "It seems that I've spoiled you far too much for you to have the guts to pull this stunt off! The doctor already told me that once I've given you the labor-suppressant injections and leave you somewhere extremely hot, it can stop you from giving birth. You're only allowed to give birth once Natalie is out of labor." At that moment, I've completely given up on life. The moment Timothy witnesses Natalie's baby being born, his eyes are filled with tears of happiness. He sets off firework after firework to celebrate the grand birth. Later on, as Timothy gazes at Natalie's newborn, he finally remembers me and our unborn baby. When he's about to order his men to take me to the hospital, he receives a phone call from his assistant. "The hospital has called to inform you to take Mrs. Langford's body away."

My parents adopted a kid, and I treated him like treasure. Then he started looking uncannily like my husband, Brian. And I caught him whispering "Mom" to my sister, Ruby. Yeah. Plot twist: Brian had been cheating on me the whole time. With Ruby. They played house behind my back, smiling for family pics—with my parents' blessing. When the truth blew up, Ruby had the audacity to beg me to step aside. My parents told me to get over it. And that kid I loved like my own? Told me I deserved to die. But here's the kicker—Brian wouldn't even sign the divorce. Dude broke down, said he still loved me, swore the kid was a mistake. So I smiled and said, "Cool. You've got seven days. Prove it, and I'll forgive you." He went full simp mode. Emptied his bank account, treated me like I was gold. Even kicked Ruby down and yelled at her to apologize. Everyone thought I'd cave. Then the cops called, asked him to ID a body—and Brian totally lost it. He never knew I'd been dead this whole time. The Reaper gave me one last week to say goodbye.

When Selovia's soldiers seized me, I sent Leon ninety-nine letters, each one begging for rescue. He tore them apart. "I sent Aya back to her duchy after she struck Mira—but I gave her my finest escort. Selovia could not have touched her." A sharp breath. "I allowed Mira the ceremonial gown, nothing more. And now Aya makes a spectacle to win back my favor. It shames her." He paced once, restless. "Mira's brother died protecting me. He was my Captain of the Royal Guard. I swore to guard her in his place. Tell Aya this—no matter how she rages, I will not cast Mira aside. If she keeps making a spectacle, I will delay the wedding." Three days later, he rode into Valecrest with the marriage contract in hand, ready to wed me. That same hour, Selovia's envoys delivered an ornate gift box. Leon glanced at it and exhaled. "So the dowry is prepared. All this noise was Aya stirring unrest." The lid opened. Inside— My head. From the tower, mourning bells began to toll. Slow. Heavy. Final. The chapel doors parted. The officiant stepped out, robes dark, face set in solemn lines. "Her Grace, Aya Valecrest, Duchess of Valecrest, has been returned to us. The burial rites begin at once."

Benedict Cole’s undercover mission had failed. Only his twin brother, David Cole, returned. I was devastated, nearly driven to madness over losing my husband. Holding Benedict’s police badge, I tried to slit my wrists nine times, but I was always rescued just in time. As my consciousness faded on my tenth attempt, I overheard a conversation between my mother-in-law, Helen, and David. “El has tried to commit suicide for you ten times now. How long are you going to keep this act up? This woman is head over heels for you. Just stop lying to her already!” David’s expression hardened as he flatly refused. “David took a bullet for me. It is only right that I take care of his wife.” “El’s from the countryside. She’s tough. Once Melissa becomes pregnant and has a child to live for, only then can I reveal that I am actually Benedict.” The bathtub was dyed red with my blood, but the pain in my heart was far greater than the sting of my wound. It turned out that it had all been a lie, a deception meant only for me. My grief-stricken suicide attempts for love were nothing short of a clown’s tragicomedy.