Zoldyck Family

The day that I divorced my third husband, the system told me that I had completely failed my mission. I had married three times in this world and they were all targets that were supposed to fall for me. But every single one of them chose to divorce me because of Wendy Somerfield. The system pitied me for doing my best for the past 30 years, so it asked me to target my son. It said that if my son could confidently choose me, between me and Wendy, then I could live. However, it was no exception that the son I gave birth to after 40 weeks of pregnancy chose Wendy, just like my three ex-husbands. They all even pinned the cause of Wendy's illness on me. My first husband, who was my childhood sweetheart, pretended to be softhearted, but he was actually ruthless. He actually tried to convince me to donate one of my kidneys to Wendy. My second husband, who I met on a blind date, used a scalpel to personally cut open my body. My third husband, who I fell in love with at first sight, even threatened me with my son. While spitting out blood from my mouth, I agreed to their requests with a smile. However, when they saw me being pushed out of the operating room, those people who turned their backs on me went crazy.

After I bought my new home outright, my relatives organized a housewarming party to celebrate. During dinner, my nephew Leo suddenly said, “You’re just a spinster living alone in a huge apartment. What do you need all that space for? I happen to be getting married soon. That’s a huge deal. You should transfer the place to me. I’ll even cover the transfer fee.” I was stunned. “Are you out of your mind?” His mother Linda said, “How can you be so ungrateful? Him using your place for his newlywed life is doing you a favor. It’ll bring you good luck! Other people would jump at the chance!” The son and mother were united against me. “Anyway, tomorrow’s a great day. Grab the property deed and come with us to transfer ownership!” I rejected them without hesitation and called them crazy. Who knew they would get so furious that they would storm into my brand-new apartment and go on a rampage, smashing everything in sight. They even said smugly, “We need to show you our family doesn’t get pushed around! Go ahead and call the police! What proof do you even have that it was us?” What they did not know was that I had installed surveillance cameras on the day I moved in.

Cailen has only one wish. To have a family he could belong to and a home to call his. ***** At thirteen, Cailen had been to different foster homes, each of them returning him for one reason or another. His heart had already taken so much rejection that hopelessness had set in, giving up on himself and shutting down, that even when a family does welcome him and love him, he still has his doubts. When Cailen returns from University to visit his family, he finds himself struggling to keep a secret that he knows will make him lose the only home and family that he has. Will Cailen lose himself? Or will he lose his family?

After days of torture at the hands of my family’s rival gang, they offered me one last phone call. I called my brother, Matteo. I just wanted to say goodbye—while I still had the chance. “What is it now?” he snapped. “Matteo, I—” He didn’t let me finish. “Fix your own mistakes. Until then, don’t call me again.” Death didn’t hurt as much as those words did. I felt my heart slow to a stop as my brother’s words echoed in my ears. I guess you’re finally at peace now, Matteo. I won’t bother you again. And you’ll never have to see me again.

My older sister was always kind-hearted, while I was born a natural troublemaker. When the intense heatwave struck, our family stocked up on supplies and stayed indoors. My sister saw a little boy, who seemed about seven or eight years old, crying and asking for help. She decided to take him in. “We’ve plenty of supplies anyway. One more person won’t make much difference. Besides, he’s just a child.” I warned her that the boy looked oddly mature and might not be as innocent as he seemed. I suggested we observe him a bit longer. She said I was a cold-hearted troublemaker by nature. Then, she went and let him in anyway. Not just that, but she also convinced our mother to force me to share a room with the boy. That night, the scheming “little boy” secretly climbed into my bed. I was brutally assaulted. Yet my sister told me to let bygones be bygones and marry him. To force me to obey, she locked me out on the balcony at over 140 °F. Enraged, I set a fire and killed everyone. When I opened my eyes again and saw my sister safe and unharmed, I smiled. This time, I would show them what a troublemaker really was.

Given a new chance at life, upon learning of my husband's supposed death, the first thing I did was to register him as dead. In my previous life, after my husband, Jonah Lloyd, learned that his elder brother, Noah, had died in an accident, he resolved to assume his brother's identity and provide for his widowed sister-in-law. All because the young widow from the city couldn't withstand the gossip of the village. As for me, coming from humble origins, even without my husband, I could survive on my own. When I heard the news, I truly believed that my husband had died in an accident. I was determined to raise our daughter with all my heart. That year, during a blizzard, while his family huddled together and celebrated in the warmth, I was out there fighting over the money after selling my body. I bled out and died in the harsh, cold night. My daughter, Tina, left waiting for me to bring back good, starved to death in the bitter winter. Only after death did I learn that my husband hadn't died. He had spent his entire life in his brother's name, protecting the widow, living to see his children and grandchildren grow old around him. And now, reopening my eyes, I had returned to the very day my husband died in an accident.

I'm Alpha Bruce Smith's most docile and understanding daughter. In fact, I'm the type who obeys literally anyone's orders. When my parents pick me up at the Rogues' den and take me back to the pack, my adopted younger sister, Andrea Smith, begins making fun of me. "I thought the Rogues killed you for sure! I never thought you'd be able to return to the pack, safe and sound! You really are lucky! Why can't you just die already?" With hollow eyes, I just nod quietly. Then, I extend a claw and move to stab myself in the neck without hesitation. My parents are terrified out of their wits. They quickly stop me from hurting myself. But my older brother, Tobias Smith, remains impassive about my condition. "You really love attention that much, huh? What makes you think you can still remain my sister, anyway? You might as well drink some wolfsbane and die!" That night, I grab a bottle of poison and down it immediately. Tobias discovers me afterward. He whisks me to the hospital anxiously. When the doctor tells him that I'd die if he were two minutes later in discovering me, Tobias' complexion turns pale. Some time after that, when Andrea snatches my necklace from me, she loses her balance and falls down the stairs. Her fiance points at me while exclaiming, "It's just a necklace! If anything were to happen to Andrea, you'd better pay the price with your life!" Pay the price with my life, huh? I don't hesitate to draw the silver sword out of its hilt on the wall. Then, I slash my throat with it. My parents happen to witness it. Shell-shocked, they scream at the top of their lungs. "Call an ambulance! Hurry!" Tobias tries to stem the blood flow with trembling hands. He's completely stunned by the ordeal. What everyone doesn't know is that they've been calling me a lowlife during my five-year stay in the Rogues' den. Even if I could live 100 times over, those lives are nothing compared to Andrea. Even if I gave my life, it would never be enough—because to them, my life was never worth anything in the first place.

She is Arianna. She is also Anna, a loving daughter and a loyal friend in the human world. However, she is Aria too, a princess among fairies but was hidden for a while. A secret kept, then, forgotten. Arianna grew up not knowing her true lineage and family. After her sixteenth birthday, events starts to unravel and a mysterious boy named Caspian helps to uncover who Arianna really is. The Princess takes up the challenge and responsibility to save her true family from a Dark Fairy who is set on taking control of the entire fairy realm.

My mother marries into the Patterson family with me after her divorce. She marries Thomas Patterson, the dean of a veterinary hospital. Meanwhile, I marry Walter Patterson, a firefighter captain and Thomas' son. On this day, there's a huge storm. I'm almost due for labor, but I still head to the hospital to pick my mother up after an operation. We head to the subway, but it ends up being flooded. I endure the labor contractions and call Walter with trembling hands, wanting to ask for help. He finally answers after hanging up on me 18 times. "What the hell do you want? How stupid can you be, calling me in such a huge storm? "I'm saving lives here! Tracy's foot was cut by glass while being saved, and I've just bandaged her wound. Now, I have to take her dog to Dad's hospital so he can save it. The dog is hanging by a thread; if you need help, get some other firefighter to do it! Don't pester me!" Later, the rescue team arrives. My mother and I are pushed to the back of the crowd, and people won't stop shoving us around. The floodwater rises, and I have no choice but to carry her on my back while trudging along the corridor. This continues for three hours. When we're finally rescued, my mother is already unconscious, and I end up losing my child, who's almost to term. My mother and I look at each other tearfully in the ward we share. I say, "Mom, I'm getting a divorce." She says, "It's not a big deal, sweetheart. I'll do it with you. I've done it once before—I know how this goes."

After five years of marriage, the doctor told me I was pregnant. It was something I had waited for so long. Yet, along with that good news came a nightmare. My medical tests showed that I had cancer, and it had already spread. The doctor gave me less than a month to live. I froze, gripping the report so tightly my knuckles turned white. Tears streamed down my face as I thought about how my unborn child would never get to feel a mother's embrace. My grief was interrupted by the ping of an incoming text message. It was from Mom. [Since you're so selfish and refuse to donate a kidney to save Nattie's life, you should divorce Davon. Let him marry Nattie instead. At least that way, you can fulfill her dying wish.] My tears fell harder. It was not that I refused to donate a kidney to Natalie Rivera, my sister, who was in the final stages of kidney disease. In truth, I only had one kidney left. Five years ago, I had already given one to Dad. Now, with my life counting down to its final days, I decided that I would donate my remaining kidney to Natalie. I would also let my husband, Davon Parker, go with her. Before I went into surgery, my parents praised me for finally being thoughtful, saying I had finally learned to care about my sister. They said that once the surgery was over, the whole family would go on vacation together. Davon even said he was proud that I was no longer selfish and promised he would make it up to me in the future. None of them knew I did not have a future. After the surgery, what would be pushed out of the operating room would be a cold, lifeless body.