My Death Was Just The Start
My wedding was tomorrow. I was a crisis counselor who had finally found peace with my loving fiancé, Dexter, and my best friend, Barbara.
A late-night call about a forced marriage led me to a hotel penthouse, where I found them naked in bed together.
It was all a cruel, three-year "savior game." They were bored heirs, and I was their project. They destroyed my career, caused me to lose our baby, and put my mother in the hospital.
They forced me to be a bridesmaid at their wedding-the one that should have been mine.
In front of hundreds of guests, they exposed my traumatic past and then tried to marry me off to a drunken stranger as a joke.
As I stood there, broken, a text from Barbara arrived.
"Your mother saw the livestream. She had a heart attack. She's not going to make it."
With nothing left, I ran to the 20th-floor window and jumped. They thought they had erased me. But my death was just the beginning.
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Chapter 5
Ella Robles POV
The wedding day dawned, a cruel mockery of what was supposed to be my happiest day. I stood in the bridal suite, dressed in a bridesmaid's gown, a pale pink monstrosity that felt like a shroud. My body ached, a constant reminder of the assault, the lost baby, my mother's fragile life hanging by a thread. I was a puppet, forced to dance at my own funeral.
Barbara, radiant in her elaborate white gown, pranced around the room. "Ella, darling, fetch me some water. My nerves are shot." Her voice was sweet, but her eyes held a chilling satisfaction.
I moved, a robot, fetching her water, adjusting her veil. The other bridesmaids, socialites I barely knew, regarded me with a mixture of pity and contempt. They had heard the rumors, seen the online gossip. I was the unstable one, the jilted mistress, the public spectacle.
During the reception, Barbara dragged me to my family's table. My aunts and cousins, their faces etched with concern, watched me with heartbroken eyes. Barbara, oblivious to their pain, raised her glass. "To family! And new beginnings!" She then handed me a glass of champagne. "Ella, a toast to new friendships!"
I hated champagne. It burned my throat, reminded me of the night in the penthouse. But I had to drink. Every sip was a bitter taste of humiliation. My mother's life depended on my silence, my compliance.
Whispers followed me, accusations and pity. "Poor Ella, she looks so thin." "Did you see her bruises? They say Dexter's family paid off her stepfather to keep her quiet." "She lost the baby, too."
Dexter sidled up to me, a small pill in his hand. "Here," he murmured, his voice low. "Painkillers. For your... discomfort." He offered a fleeting, almost apologetic glance.
I stared at the pill. A gesture of fake kindness. I hated him for it. I hated him for everything. I remained silent, ignoring his outstretched hand.
He scoffed, his momentary concern vanishing. He dropped the pill on the table and walked away, a cold, dismissive look on his face.
Barbara grabbed Dexter's hand and pulled him toward the lavish stage. The lights dimmed, spotlights illuminating the happy couple. My stomach churned. This was it. The public execution.
The officiant began the ceremony. Barbara, seizing the microphone before her vows, beamed at the crowd. "Before I say 'I do,' I want to share something truly special. Many of you know my dear friend, Ella."
Barbara's eyes found mine across the ballroom. For a split second, I saw it—not triumph, but something rawer. Envy. Dexter had told her once, during a fight, that I was "the only real thing in his life." She never forgave me for that. Now she held the microphone like a weapon, her smile razor-sharp.
"Her journey has been... challenging. From an abusive home, through deep depression, to finding her footing with the help of our crisis center."
My blood ran cold. She was doing it again. Exposing my past, twisting it into her narrative of benevolence. My body felt numb, frozen. I was naked, vulnerable, under the harsh glare of a thousand eyes. There was nowhere to hide.
"Today, as I embark on my new life with Dexter," Barbara continued, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "I want to share my joy. And my greatest wish for Ella. I wish for her to find love, just as I have." She turned to me, her eyes glittering with malice. "So, I have an idea! We'll do a special bouquet toss. Whoever catches it gets a special prize: a chance to marry our dear Ella right here, right now!"
The crowd gasped, then laughed, a ripple of cruel amusement spreading through the ballroom. Marry me? To a stranger? A humiliating public auction. My face burned with shame.
"No!" I tried to protest, but two burly security guards, planted by Dexter, grabbed my arms. They pushed me to the center of the dance floor, directly under the spotlight.
Barbara threw the bouquet. It sailed through the air, landing in the hands of a greasy, middle-aged man in the front row. He grinned, his eyes raking over my body. "Looks like I get the prize!" he slurred, stepping forward.
He grabbed my arm, pulling me close. His breath smelled of alcohol. He squeezed my waist, his fingers digging into my bruises. My stomach clenched in disgust. I struggled, trying to push him away.
"Dexter!" I pleaded, my eyes locking with his. He stood on the stage, watching. A flicker of hesitation crossed his face, a momentary battle. But Barbara, beside him, whispered something in his ear, her hand on his arm. His expression hardened. He looked away.
"Go on, Ella," Barbara called out, her voice loud and clear. "It's all in good fun! A new beginning for you!"
Dexter nodded, a silent command. My heart shattered. He abandoned me. Again.
The officiant, a bewildered look on his face, was forced to continue. The man held my hand, a perverse parody of a wedding ceremony. I wanted to scream. I wanted to die.
Then, a vibration in my pocket. My phone. A text message. From Barbara.
Your mother just had another heart attack. She saw the livestream. Doctors don't think she'll make it.
The world spun. My mother. My innocent mother. Dead. Because of them. Because of me. The last thread holding me to this life snapped. A searing pain, worse than any physical blow, ripped through me. I felt a cracking sound inside my head.
I lunged at Barbara, a desperate, animalistic roar tearing from my throat. "You killed her! You killed my mother!"
Dexter intercepted me, his grip brutal. He held me tightly, my struggles futile. "Control yourself, Ella! Don't make things worse!"
He pushed me towards the greasy man. "Take her," he commanded, his voice cold. "Get her out of here."
The man grabbed me again, his hold inescapable. I looked at Dexter, at Barbara, their faces blurred by my tears. They had taken everything. My love, my dignity, my future, my baby, and now my mother.
There was nothing left. Absolutely nothing.
I knew what I had to do. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, I twisted free from the man's grasp. I ran, a frantic, desperate sprint towards the nearest window. The 20th floor. The world below looked like a distant, hazy dream. I kicked off my shoes, climbed onto the ledge, and without a second thought, I jumped.
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9.7
Luna Elena Frost was never chosen, only assigned.
Bound to Alpha Alaric Ashbourne through a cold contractual marriage, she endures three years as a Luna in name only. He never comes home, never defends her, and never looks at her, while his heart belongs to another woman.
At his grandmother's funeral, Alaric publicly dissolves their marriage, humiliating Elena before the entire pack. In that moment, she finally understands the truth. She was never wanted.
But the Moon has not abandoned her.
A forgotten night resurfaces. Her long-silent wolf begins to awaken. And secrets buried within her bloodline start to surface, drawing danger from every direction.
Cast out by the pack that once used her, Elena must flee, survive, and uncover her true power.
Only then does the Alpha realize his mistake.
By the time he turns back in regret, the Luna he rejected may already be gone forever.
8.3
I was the long-lost Donovan heiress, finally brought home after a childhood in foster care. My parents adored me, my husband cherished me, and the woman who tried to ruin my life, Kiera Reese, was locked away in a mental facility. I was safe. I was loved.
On my birthday, I decided to surprise my husband, Ivan, at his office. But he wasn't there.
I found him at a private art gallery across town. He was with Kiera.
She wasn't in a facility. She was radiant, laughing as she stood beside my husband and their five-year-old son. I watched through the glass as Ivan kissed her, a familiar, loving gesture he’d used with me just that morning.
I crept closer and overheard them. My birthday wish to go to the amusement park had been denied because he’d already promised the entire park to their son—whose birthday was the same day as mine.
"She’s so grateful to have a family, she’d believe anything we tell her," Ivan said, his voice laced with a cruelty that stole my breath. "It's almost sad."
My entire reality—my loving parents who funded this secret life, my devoted husband—was a five-year lie. I was just the fool they kept on stage.
My phone buzzed. It was a text from Ivan, sent while he stood with his real family.
"Just got out of the meeting. So exhausting. I miss you."
The casual lie was the final blow. They thought I was a pathetic, grateful orphan they could control.
They were about to find out just how wrong they were.
7.8
Alexis signed the divorce papers, leaving her with no assets, no alimony, and just the clothes on her back.
To forget her abusive husband Carlos, she got drunk and bought a high-end gigolo for the night with her last 800 dollars.
But the man she slept with wasn't an escort. He was Jarrett Hughes, a ruthless billionaire CEO.
And while she was gone, her ex-husband was busy destroying her entire life.
Carlos framed her with fake photos of her cheating to justify the penniless divorce.
Then came the real nightmare.
Carlos and her own aunt secretly drained her family's corporate accounts, driving her father to jump off a building.
At the hospital, her grieving mother blamed her for the tragedy, violently attacking her in the ER.
To top it off, her cousin Josie—who was secretly sleeping with Carlos—held her father's ashes hostage.
"Crawl on your knees and pick it up, or the ashes go in the river," Josie sneered, throwing cash into the freezing slush.
Stripped of her marriage, her father, and her dignity, Alexis sat bleeding in the snow.
She couldn't understand why the people she loved most had coordinated such a brutal slaughter against her.
But Carlos and Josie made one fatal mistake.
They didn't know the "gigolo" Alexis had accidentally bought was the most powerful man in New York.
Alexis looked at the towering billionaire standing behind her, a vengeful fire burning in her eyes.
"I need you to get my father's ashes back," she said, pulling him into a kiss right in front of her ex-husband. "I don't care what it takes."
7.6
Kaylee's family was drowning in debt, and her stepmother locked her inside a freezing bedroom.
To save their bankrupt company, they decided to sell her off to a sixty-five-year-old man with a disgusting reputation.
They cut off her allowance and confiscated the only precious keepsake her dead mother had ever left her.
"Put on the engagement dress, or I will smash your mother's crystal box into a million pieces."
Terrified of the old man, Kaylee risked her life by jumping out of the second-story window into a violent storm.
She hit the muddy ground hard, twisting her ankle and tearing her skin on rusted iron gates as she escaped into the pitch-black night.
Dragging her bleeding bare feet across the cold sand, her lungs felt like they were filled with broken glass.
She didn't understand why she had to be the sacrifice for their endless greed, or how they could be so cruel as to hold her dead mother's memory hostage.
She had absolutely nowhere to go, and the old man's cars were already pulling into the estate to claim her.
Cornered by the blinding headlights of a motorcade on the beach, she threw herself at the feet of Ernest Blackwell, the most ruthless billionaire in New York.
"Marry me! You need a wife, and I need a husband right now!"
To buy her freedom and crush the family that sold her, she chose to sign a twenty-million-dollar fake marriage contract with the devil himself.
9.7
Eliana Rivera is the firstborn daughter of business tycoon Cassian Rivera. When her father's company falls into debt, he marries her off to the arrogant and ruthless billionaire, Alexander Grayson, as part of a business contract and under the threat of blackmail.
Alexander, the billionaire CEO, never planned to marry, but the pressure of blackmail forces him into a union with a woman he barely knows. Although Eliana doesn't see Alexander as her ideal partner, she agrees to the marriage out of a sense of duty.
Once engaged, however, he barely acknowledges her presence and harbours disdain for her because of her father's actions and their relationship. But as they navigate their newfound relationship, the unexpected desire for each other's touch ignites-a twist neither of them planned, leading them toward an unforeseen love.
9.7
"Sign it. You're no woman if you can't give me an heir."
Niamh gave Marcus two years of her life, her unwavering loyalty, and her silent love. In return, the billionaire CEO served her divorce papers and a one-way ticket to the gutter.
Cast out into a rainy night with nothing but the clothes on her back and twelve dollars, Niamh’s story should have ended there.
Instead, she stumbled on a stranger in the rain.
In an attempt to save him, he kisses her senseless. He is the last Lycan King standing, and a man of terrifying power, yet he is haunted by a seven-century curse.
When the king has a taste of Niamh in the pouring rain, he knew he had to keep her for himself, even though she was human and it was against the laws of their kind not to mingle with humans.
The King needs her essence and Niamh realizes she could use her body to get what she wanted; revenge on Marcus and his mother for humiliating her and making her waste her time.
Now, the woman Marcus discarded is rising as a global conglomerate queen and a Divine Enchantress as assigned by the Moon Goddess.
While her ex-husband’s empire crumbles into bankruptcy and his body rots with a shameful curse, Niamh is learning that being "claimed" by the King is much more than the contract she'd initially made with him.
He wanted to use her as his cure. She wanted to use him for her revenge.
But in the Lumina Realm, the Goddess has other plans.