Ex Begs Back-After Letting Another Wolf Claim My Kid
I've spent years as the Blake pack's punching bag-all because of a lie about my dad.
Veronica, the she-wolf I once loved, the mother of my little Ivy, spat on me daily.
"You're a rogue," she'd snarl, slamming me into walls. "Ivy will never know you're her father."
Preston, that snake, made it worse.
He paid thugs to beat me, whispered lies to turn the pack against me.
But when Veronica locked me in a basement with rabid dogs?
That's when I knew I had to die-or fake it.
I chose the latter.
Now I'm free.
Camille's in my arms, our daughter Lila clinging to my leg, her laugh brighter than the moon.
But Veronica found me. "Owen, I love you," she sobbed, dragging me to a binding ceremony.
I stared at Camille, at Lila's sleeping face.
"Some wounds don't heal, pup."
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Chapter 2
She turns to me, her eyes glinting with something dangerous.
"You wanted the high life, didn't you, Owen? Well, I'm giving you a shot."
A chill runs through me. Whatever's coming, it's bad. Real bad.
Veronica doesn't give me a chance to argue.
She shoves me through the gilded doors, my shoulder slamming into a marble pillar. The air reeks of perfume and dominance-this is the Den, where she-wolves rule, claws sheathed in silk.
"Got your sacrifice," Veronica barks, tossing a key at the queen of the house. "A rogue with a pretty snarl. Keep him leashed. Entertain the girls."
The queen's gaze rakes me, wolf-pupils narrowing. "Veronica's always had a knack for broken things." She flicks a wrist. "Show us your teeth, pretty one. Let's see if you're worth the chains."
My throat tightens.
I clutch my collar, heart pounding, staring at the room full of strangers.
"I can't do this," I stammer.
"Veronica, please, don't make me do this!"
Her face is stone-cold, and she grabs my chin, her grip tight enough to bruise.
Her eyes are dark, chilling me to the bone.
"Oh, you don't like it? How about I do this to your dad instead? One call, and I'll have his oxygen cut off."
"No!"
I grab her arm, desperate.
She snorts, yanking free.
"If my pack hadn't taken you in, your uncle Raymond would've sold you off to who-knows-where. And now you're acting all high and mighty?"
My lips tremble, memories clawing their way back.
When Veronica banished me to the old Blake estate to work as a servant, the older hands there knew my story.
"His dad seduced Margot, caused all this mess," they'd whisper.
"Now he's sniffing around Veronica. Shameless."
By day, they gossiped.
By night, under cover of darkness, they'd rip off what little clothes I had left, pinching and bruising my skin.
When that wasn't enough, they'd beat me with whatever was handy, leaving me battered and broken.
They knew no one would care if I died there.
"Need help stripping?"
Veronica snaps, her patience gone.
She lunges for my shirt, and I flinch, my whole body shaking.
Just being near anyone now sets me off, trembling like a cornered pup.
"No! I'll do it," I choke out, biting back the shame.
Just hold on. One more month, and I'm out of this hell.
I unbutton my shirt, one agonizing button at a time.
It falls to the floor, leaving my scrawny frame exposed. I hug myself, shivering in the cold air.
The old she wolf smirks.
"That's not enough, wolf."
Tears sting my eyes, but I hold them back, turning to Veronica.
"You gotta humiliate me like this? If it's ever proven my dad didn't do those things, you'll regret this."
She laughs, sharp and merciless.
"Regret? The only thing I regret is knowing you. You and your dad would do anything for a buck, wouldn't you?"
"Keep going. Strip."
I shut my eyes tight, willing the tears to stay put.
My fingers grip my pants, knuckles white.
Veronica watches, irritation flickering across her face, like she's already bored.
Then her phone rings.
I catch a glimpse of the caller-Preston Hale, my childhood friend.
Her voice shifts, soft as honey.
"Hey, babe, miss me? Alright, I'm on my way."
She hangs up and bolts without a backward glance.
I stumble out of the room, clutching the one hundred bucks the old fat she wolf tossed at me. My face burns like I've been slapped.
"Veronica's orders," she'd said with a sleazy grin. "
A wolf like you? Worth one hundred. Not a penny more."
The sunlight's too bright, stabbing at my eyes. I collapse to the ground, sobs tearing out of me. In that moment, the Veronica I once knew-the gentle, kind she-wolf I loved-is dead to me.
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8.0
For four years, Ember traced the bullet scar on Chace's chest, believing it proved his unwavering protection. Their anniversary gala was supposed to be the night he finally proposed, a symbol of their future. Instead, she stood frozen, watching him slide his mother's sapphire onto Karyn Warren's finger—the daughter of a rival family.
His voice, amplified by the silent ballroom, declared, "Karyn is for power. Ember is for pleasure. Don't confuse the assets." Her heart incinerated. Publicly humiliated, she was ordered to remain his mistress, threatened with her dead mother's grave. Chace, confident her father's debts trapped her, forced her from their shared penthouse.
He then used a fake "Help. Sick." text to lure Ember to a club, only to humiliate her further, calling her "loyal like a dog." Karyn ordered a soldier to "touch" Ember while Chace watched, indifferent. With no other choice, Ember drank a punishment cup containing wine she was severely allergic to.
She collapsed, suffocating on the club floor, as Chace and Karyn watched, annoyed. Waking in a sterile hospital room, her throat raw, she faced Chace's cold relief and Karyn's dismissive cruelty. The betrayal was absolute, the injustice sickening.
But moments before, in her despair, Ember had invoked a Blood Oath. She texted Keith Mosley, the ruthless Don, accepting his price for her father's debt: marriage. She would become his, and she was ready to pay.
8.1
One wardrobe malfunction.
Two people who don't belong together.
Three awful "Be my wife."
Everyone else is at this party to marry the host.
I'm only here until I can get a ride home.
When my dress rips in the world's worst-timed wardrobe malfunction,
I go find somewhere quiet to fix it.
So I'm standing there in nothing but my heels when,
As my luck would have it, the door opens...
And the man of the hour walks in.
I wish I could say I played it cool.
But it's been a looong time since anyone has seen me in my birthday suit...
Much less the hottest man I've ever laid eyes on.
All I want to do is fix my dress, click my heels three times, and be back on my couch in fuzzy slippers.
But Ivan has other ideas.
He's decided who he's taking to the altar...
And I don't have a choice but to say "I do."
8.1
I was sealing our wedding invitations with crimson wax when I heard my fiancé through the slightly ajar study door.
Ethan wasn't reciting the poetry he’d written for me over the last seven years. He was outlining the logistics of his betrayal.
"If I fake amnesia after the 'accident' tonight, I can delay the wedding without the family stopping the merger," Ethan laughed, ice clinking in his glass.
"And Ava? The Canary?" his friend asked.
"Ava is property. You maintain property; you don't have fun with it. While she plays nurse, I get a medical exemption to sleep with Chloe."
My world shattered. I fled into the rainy night, blinded by tears, until headlights turned my world upside down.
I woke up in the wreckage, my arm shattered, tasting blood. Ethan arrived moments later.
But he didn't run to me.
He stepped right over my bleeding body to comfort Chloe, who had a minor scratch on her forehead.
"I've got you, baby," he cooed to his mistress, looking at me with nothing but cold annoyance. "Don't worry about her. She's tough."
He left me in the street.
By the next morning, the narrative was set: The tragic Don had lost his memory of his fiancée, but miraculously remembered his 'true love,' Chloe. He evicted me from our penthouse while I was still in surgery.
He thought he had won. He thought the Canary would just die in the cold.
He forgot one thing. I knew where he hid the bodies—literally.
I walked into his staged public proposal, slammed my ring on the table, and left a note under it.
*I remember everything. And so do you.*
Then I boarded a plane with his secret incriminating journal in my bag. The empire was about to burn.
8.6
"This is wrong," I said, my voice rough and strained. "I'm your older brother... we can't do this." I tried to pull away from her, forcing some distance between us, but my body wouldn't cooperate. The pull toward her was too powerful, too deep in my bones.
She didn't let go. Instead, she tugged me closer, guiding me toward the bed. One of her soft hands pressed flat against my bare chest, right over my pounding heart, while her other arm wrapped around the back of my neck, holding me there.
Her eyes burned with hunger as she looked up at me. In a low, needy voice, she whispered, "Whether you believe you're my mate or not... I'm giving you my first everything tonight. All of me. Right now."
The words hit me like a shockwave. Every single inch of my body-my soul, my wolf-screamed the same thing over and over in my head: Mate. Mate. Mate. The instinct roared so loud it drowned out everything else, every rational thought, every rule I'd ever lived by.
I crashed my mouth against hers in a hungry, desperate kiss, claiming her completely. My hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against me as I muttered against her lips, "And I don't care anymore about morals or rules or any of that bullshit. I'm the ruler of these lands... and you're mine. All mine."
I was completely crazy about her. Obsessed. Possessed. She was mine-every part of her-and nothing in the world was going to change that.
8.6
After sacrificing her own life to save a young billionaire, Anne became the wife of Edric Montray overnight. However, it was only a loveless contract marriage that would last two years, just until Edric's ex-girlfriend returned from studying abroad.
Anne thought she could melt Edric's cold heart, but all she received was icy resistance and words that pierced her like knives.
One passionate, mistaken night gave Anne a spark of hope, only for it to be crushed when Bella, Edric's ex, returned the very next day. Anne gave up, signed the divorce papers, and disappeared.
Unexpectedly, a car accident brought back the memories Anne had lost for three years!
From that day on, the woman named Anne completely vanished, the underworld welcomed back the long-lost Mafia Queen after three years!
Edric went mad searching for his ex-wife, only to spiral deeper into insanity when he saw a seductive, stunning woman with Anne's face... holding the hand of a little boy who looked exactly like him.
"Anne..."
"There is no more Anne."
The ex-wife, no, now known as Mary Salvaria, the Mafia Boss ruling the entire underworld of the Union State.
Edric, how will you win back the heart of this entirely new woman?
7.4
I was only fifteen when my venomous family orchestrated my doom by forcing me into an arranged marriage with mafia heir Javier Velasquez.
On our wedding night, Javier paraded strippers into our suite to show his absolute contempt, turning me into the ultimate joke of the underworld overnight.
But being a joke was a luxury compared to what came next.
Three years later, Javier needed to be a widower to marry into a heavily armed family and secure their backing for a coup.
He didn't grant me the mercy of a bullet.
Instead, he dragged me to an abandoned underground safehouse, locked me in the damp, rotting dark, and told the world I had been assassinated.
For six months, I starved in that dungeon, surviving only on the desperate hope that my family was safe.
Then, on the day of his lavish new wedding, a cruel maid kicked a plate of spoiled food onto my floor and delivered the final, fatal blow.
"Annabel is dead. Pined away and died of a broken heart two weeks ago."
My gentle mother was dead, all because she actually believed his lie about my tragic murder.
Driven by pure agony and an all-consuming hatred, I shattered crates of smuggled chemical solvents and struck a match, letting the roaring inferno turn their bloody wedding into my funeral pyre.
I thought the fire was the end.
But when I opened my eyes, the suffocating smoke vanished, replaced by the biting chill of a Long Island winter.
I was standing in the snow, back on the exact day my descent into hell began.
This time, the terrified girl was dead, and I would use their own ruthless rules to tear their empire apart.