Zoldyck Family

Five years ago, my Alpha parents rescued me from an orphanage and brought me home to the Blue Moon Pack. I thought my life was finally taking a turn for the better. I thought I was safe. But I was wrong. Yolanda McKinney—the fake heiress—conspired with rogue wolves to destroy me. They kidnapped me, ran over my legs with a car, breaking them, and left me battered and bleeding. When my parents and my childhood sweetheart, Joseph Delgado, found me lying in a pool of my own blood, their panic was unmistakable. They rushed me to the pack hospital, but the diagnosis was devastating: I might never walk again. Joseph proposed to me on the spot, vowing to stand by me through everything. My parents, furious at Yolanda's betrayal, promised swift justice. They assured me they had cut all ties with her, that she'd fled in guilt and drowned in a tragic accident. I believed them. I had to. For five years, I focused on recovery, trying to rebuild my shattered life. My marriage to Joseph was my anchor, the one thing I thought I could trust. Until the day I saw Yolanda McKinney alive. "You and Mom and Dad saved my life," she said smugly, her voice dripping with venom. "Without you, that pathetic cripple would’ve been the end of me." My blood ran cold as she continued. "But she never suspected, not even for a second, that you and I have a pup. Mom and Dad? They erased every trace, switched her meds for useless pills—hell, they even buried the evidence." Joseph's response shattered what little remained of my heart. "Don't make it sound so harsh," he murmured. "Marrying her was the only way I could keep sending those forgiveness letters. It was the only way to keep you and our son safe." Every word stabbed me like a blade. My marriage? A lie. My parents? Traitors who discarded me like trash. The justice they’d promised me? A farce. Fine. If I meant nothing to them, then they would mean nothing to me.

On the day of my son's one-month celebration, my notoriously stingy sister-in-law surprised me with a branded baby bottle. But instead of accepting it, I turned away and gave it to the neighbor's cruel son who had XYY syndrome. In my previous life, I had accepted that bottle with genuine gratitude, using it day and night to feed my son. I never imagined that a month later, in the dead of night, my son would suddenly suffer a heart attack and die in my arms. Strangely enough, the very next day after my son passed, my sister-in-law's sickly child—who had been confined to the neonatal intensive care unit since birth—was miraculously discharged in perfect health. Losing my son shattered me completely. I spent my days drowning in tears. My husband called me a cursed woman, claimed I brought nothing but disaster, and demanded a divorce. Not only that, but he insisted I leave with nothing. When I refused, he and my sister-in-law joined forces and accidentally beat me to death. It wasn't until after I died that I learned the truth. The woman I had thought was my husband's younger sister wasn't his blood relative at all. She had been adopted by his mother years ago to be raised as his future wife. Together, they had plotted to destroy me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my sister-in-law handed me that baby bottle.

I'm undressed and bound to a testing table when my family comes to pick me up. A thick, sharp needle pierces into my neck. A drug is administered into my blood, and the pain almost makes me lose consciousness. Behind me, I can feel a man's cold hands stroking my skin amorously. Before me, several people are staring at me. They point at me and treat me like an educational instrument. I tremble in fear and curl up on the testing table in pain. Three years ago, my brother sent me to Mykorra's war zone to stand up for Yvette Sanders. Those were the three most insulting and torturous years of my life. They burned away my hope for kinship but not my desire for survival. As the hands roam lower on my body, I bite my lip so hard that I almost draw blood. As the hands start to go overboard, someone knocks on the door. "Wendy Sanders, your brother is here for you."

When enemies came seeking revenge, my brother was off with his first love, chasing a golden sunrise over the mountains. I didn't beg him to save us. Instead, I dragged my sister-in-law to safety, dodging killers. In my last life, my brother rushed home, but his first love got caught in an avalanche. Before she passed, she texted him, accusing me and my sister-in-law of humiliating her with money and threatening her to leave him. The fateful trip was her final wish. Her death crushed me with guilt, but my brother dismissed it, holding a perfunctory funeral for her before moving on. I thought he had recommitted to his family, but while my sister-in-law recovered from childbirth, he slipped poison into our meal. "How do I have such a vile sister like you?" he spat. "And you... I only married you for family interests. You two killed the love of my life!" He set the house on fire, burning us alive. Even his newborn son wasn't spared. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that fateful day.

My husband was praised by my friends as the perfect husband in the world. Everyone said he loved me to death and practically put me on a pedestal. Then came my prenatal checkup. My older cousin, Catherina Bow, called him with a farewell message before attempting suicide. Without hesitation, he abandoned me and rushed off in panic. I was six months pregnant at that time. My mother expected me to be the bigger person and “lend” my husband to Catherina, who was depressed. My brother snapped at me, "The only reason you’re still in this house is because Catherina spoke up for you. Whatever she wants, you should give it to her!" I found it absurd. I was supposed to be their family. She was nothing but a cuckoo in my nest. When I finally decided to walk away from all of them, they regretted their actions.

The fake daughter married my boyfriend. My mouth was taped and I was being chopped into pieces by her admirer. The entire family took turns to call me. My mother said, "How ungrateful you are. I should not have brought you home back then." Father added, "Don't bother coming back if you do not attend Samantha's wedding." Brother said, "Let me tell you, you shall root in hell if you choose not to attend the wedding." At that moment, I didn't even have the energy to shout for help due to excessive blood loss. Everyone lost their patience, "Speak up! Are you dead or what?" I could only see the calls being disconnected. One thing they did not know, I was really dead.

Samantha Davis fell pregnant, and she knew nothing about the man she slept with. After being disowned by her father, she left the city to start anew. Raising her own children, Samantha strived and overcame. Little did she know, her twins meant to find a daddy, and they weren't settling for any less! At three years old, her babies asked, "Mama, where Dada?" "Umm... Dada is far away." That was the easiest way for Samantha to explain to her kids the absence of a father. At four years old, they asked again, "Mommy, where is Daddy?" "Umm... He is working at Braeton City." Yet again, Samantha chose the easy way out. After nearly six years, Samantha returned to the place that had long forsaken her, Braeton City. She knew she was bound to answer her kids' curiosity over their unknown father, and she concluded it was about time to tell the truth. However, one day, her twins came to her with glistening eyes and announced, "Mommy! We found Daddy!" Standing before her was a block of ice, Mr. Ethan Wright, the most powerful businessman in the city. *** Book 1 of the Wright Family Series Book 2: Flash Marriage: A Billionaire For A Rebound Book 3: I Kissed A CEO And He Liked It Book 4: The Devil's Love For The Heiress Book 5: I Fell For The Boy His Daddy Was A Bonus Note each story can be read as a standalone. Follow me on social media. Search Author_LiLhyz on IG & FB.

I'd been home for half a month, but I still couldn't shake the feeling that Mom wasn't quite herself anymore. She looked and sounded like she always had, but something felt different. Then, one day, I got a message from her that sent a chill down my spine. "Lily, hide! There's a ghost in the house!" At first, I thought she was pulling a prank on me—or maybe her account got hacked. Then, there was a knock on my bedroom door. Mom, who had just finished cooking, called out to tell me the meal was ready. I was still hesitating when another message popped up. It was a voice message. "Trust me, Lily. I'm your real mom! The one out there is a ghost! Run!" It sounded just like Mom's voice from outside. My mind was racing in panic. Not hearing me respond, Mom giggled from the other side of the door and said, "I'm coming in."

I suffered critical injuries that left me in a persistent vegetative state when I tried to rescue my wife, Regina Livingston, from her abductors. Regina spares no expense, spending millions of dollars to bring in the best medical experts in the country to treat me. She watches over me every single night, never weary of caring for me. Four years into my coma, I overhear a conversation between Richard Sutherland—a man I don't know—and Regina. "You've done all you can, Regina," he says. "You don't owe him anything anymore." Regina remains silent. Then, a young boy, Franklin Sutherland, suddenly asks, "Mommy, why do you always visit this man? Who is he?" I'm instantly shocked. Regina and I don't have a child together. I'm completely bewildered, and just as I try to figure it out, I suddenly wake up from my coma.

At the peak of my career, my husband slapped me in public.  With a look of disgust, he said, “Tess, you’re pathetic. You made Grace fail the class because you’re jealous. Don’t you know she’s applying for a scholarship?” Caught off guard, I stumbled and fell to the ground, clutching my stomach as pain surged through me. I knelt there, begging him to take me to the hospital.  However, all he did was swat my hand away and sneer. “Quit the act! Aren’t you just a useless woman who can’t get pregnant?” At that moment, my heart felt like it had shattered into a million pieces. It wasn’t long before bystanders intervened, insisting on taking me to the hospital. Unfortunately, it was too late to save the baby. Once the surgery was over and the reality of what had happened sank in, I turned to him and demanded a divorce.