
Shattered Mate Bond: The Secret Hacker Luna's Vengeance
After spending five grueling years securing the Madden Pack's empire, I thought my Alpha mate and I were finally building a perfect family.
But on my birthday, I returned home to find a thick, impenetrable wall of ice in our Mate bond.
Caden had completely shut me out to throw a lavish party for my half-sister, Adalynn.
He let Adalynn pollute our penthouse with her cheap perfume and brainwash my five-year-old daughter, Elara.
"Auntie Adalynn is a million times better than Mommy!"
Elara chirped happily to a camera, while Caden watched with a doting smile.
He publicly humiliated me, commanded the servants to ignore me, and deliberately fed Elara severe allergens just to spite my maternal rules.
When my pup ended up in the pack hospital gasping for air, Caden confiscated her tablet and roared at her to stop crying for the mother who "abandoned" her.
My heart shattered into a million irreparable pieces.
I couldn't understand how the man destined to protect my soul could twist my love into cruelty and use our helpless cub as a punching bag for his ego.
But the weeping, pathetic Luna died right there.
I calmly signed the divorce papers, surrendered all my assets, and walked out into the cold night.
Opening my encrypted laptop, I reclaimed my hidden identity as the global elite hacker "Ghost" and initiated a lethal protocol.
It was time to burn his entire world to the ground.
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Chapter 1
Eulalie POV
The sliding glass doors of JFK's Terminal 4 parted, spitting me out into the biting October chill. I pulled my beige cardigan tighter around my shoulders, my eyes scanning the VIP pickup zone. A line of sleek black town cars idled against the curb, but the Madden Pack's signature Maybach was nowhere to be seen.
I closed my eyes and reached into my mind, searching for the familiar, golden thread of my mate bond. Caden? I called through the mind-link.
Silence. Not just silence, but a thick, impenetrable wall of ice. He had deliberately shut me out.
I had just spent a grueling week in futile negotiations trying to save my former pack, the Moon Pack, from financial ruin. As the Luna of the Madden Pack, I should have been greeted by my Alpha mate, or at least a pack warrior. Instead, my phone screen remained blank. No messages. No missed calls.
Swallowing the bitter taste of public humiliation, I ordered an Uber. The ride back to Manhattan was a blur of gray highways, the interior of the Toyota Camry suffocating me with the cloying scent of a vanilla air freshener. It felt like a cruel joke—a Luna, reduced to riding in a stranger's car like a forgotten, wolfless omega.
A secret part of me—the part I had buried for five years—whispered that I had other resources, other paths. But using them would mean revealing everything. And I wasn't ready. Not yet.
The human doorman at our Fifth Avenue building offered a polite nod, but it only amplified my isolation. I stepped into the private elevator, watching my pale, exhausted reflection in the polished brass doors as I ascended to the penthouse.
The moment the doors chimed open into the foyer, my wolf senses were assaulted.
It wasn't the comforting, authoritative sandalwood scent of my Alpha that hit me first. It was a cheap, aggressive, synthetic rose perfume. Adalynn. My half-sister.
Her scent was everywhere, clinging to the walls, polluting my territory. Scattered across the marble floor were colorful tissue papers and satin ribbons. Beside the console table, Caden's Italian leather shoes sat intimately next to a pair of glittery sneakers belonging to my five-year-old daughter, Elara.
I walked quietly toward the living room, bathed in the warm, golden glow of the chandelier. What I saw froze the blood in my veins.
Sitting on the Persian rug were Caden and Elara. Between them sat a massive, garish plush unicorn made of cheap synthetic fibers. They were tying a pink ribbon around its neck. My heart plummeted. It was the exact same toy I had tried to buy for Elara three months ago, only for Caden to coldly reject it, claiming the cheap material would trigger her allergies.
"Auntie Adalynn says unicorns are magic!" Elara giggled, her pure, sweet cub scent mixing with the sickening rose perfume. "She says they're a million times better than Mommy's boring stories."
The words twisted like a silver blade in my chest. My own pup, corrupted by the woman who had always tried to steal what was mine.
My shoe scuffed against the hardwood. Caden's head snapped up.
There was no relief in his eyes at the sight of his fated mate. His powerful Alpha aura flared, heavy and suffocating, laced with the distinct irritation of his inner wolf, Rage. I was an interruption. A nuisance in my own home.
"You're back early," he stated, his voice devoid of warmth.
I stared at the man who had marked me, the man whose soul was supposed to be tied to mine. "Caden," I whispered, my voice trembling as I clung to a desperate, foolish hope. "Do you know what today is? It's October 14th."
My birthday.
He didn't even blink. His mind was entirely consumed by the party he was throwing for Adalynn. He stood up, his massive frame casting a long shadow over me, and reached down to take Elara's hand.
"Come on, Elara. We need to get this to the party," he said, completely ignoring my words.
He walked right past me. The brush of his shoulder against mine didn't spark the usual electric thrill of the mate bond; it felt like brushing against a stranger. He was leaving me standing alone in a cold, empty nest tainted by another female's scent.
Deep within the darkest recesses of my soul, something snapped. The agonizing heartbreak and the primal, maternal instinct to protect my cub collided. The whimpering ceased. A chilling, dead calm washed over my veins. Nyx, my dormant White Wolf, opened her icy blue eyes in the dark.
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9.7
Eighteen months ago, the man I loved shattered my heart, claiming everything between us was a mistake. Now, he's back, a ghost of his former self, a rookie tryout in my pro esports team. And I will make him regret crawling back.
Clifton, captain of a legendary esports team, was secretly battling a severe wrist injury that threatened his career, every match a fight against his own body. He pushed through the pain, ignoring doctors' warnings, desperate to maintain his god-like status.
His world was already on the edge, but nothing prepared him for seeing Justice Terry again in the team basement. Justice, pale and trembling, his eyes wide with naked terror, was now a rookie tryout.
Clifton had spent a year and a half trying to forget that rainy Chicago alley, the raw revulsion in Justice's eyes, the whispered "it wasn't real" that had left him heartbroken. Justice had vanished, and Clifton had erased every trace. Now, the boy who once looked at him like he was the sun was back, flinching at his touch, displaying a deep, primal fear. Amidst sponsor pressure and whispers of being "washed," Clifton saw Justice's return as a chance for vengeance. He publicly humiliated Justice on a live stream, forcing him into a suicide mission, then coldly benched him.
Yet, the satisfaction never came. Instead, a hollow emptiness and a torrent of questions: What had truly happened in the past? Why was Justice here, and what trauma had carved such fear into his bones?
Clifton, unwilling to be fooled again, swore to uncover every secret and every lie. He would force Justice to explain why he had returned, even if it meant tearing down everything they both had left.

7.3
Clara came home from a fourteen-hour board meeting to the sound of a piercing scream in the playroom.
When she rushed in, she found her husband, Chadwick, kneeling on the floor in a panic.
But he wasn't looking at their five-year-old son, Leo, who had a massive bleeding welt on his forehead.
Instead, Chadwick was trembling as he held the nanny's daughter, Autumn, who barely had a microscopic scratch.
"She needs ice. And antibacterial ointment," Chadwick snapped, carrying the nanny's daughter away and leaving his bleeding son behind.
From that moment, the nightmare only escalated.
Chadwick ordered Clara to cook a three-hour meal for the nanny's kid, threw away Leo's favorite toys because Autumn sneezed, and even secretly took the nanny and her daughter on Leo's promised Disney trip.
The final humiliation came at the Met Gala.
Right before their sponsor speech, Chadwick received a frantic call from the nanny claiming Autumn was having a panic attack.
He abandoned Clara in front of hundreds of flashing cameras, sprinting out of the ballroom.
Clara stood completely alone, the humiliation eating through her veins like acid.
She couldn't understand how a father could call the nanny's kid his "little princess" while watching his own son cry.
Why was he treating his own flesh and blood like garbage just to play savior to another woman's child?
Suddenly, the blinding camera flashes were blocked by a massive shadow.
Erasmo Chase, the heir to New York's largest financial dynasty, stepped out of the darkness and shielded her.
"A man like that is unworthy of your grief, Ms. Best," he whispered, pressing a silk handkerchief into her trembling hand.
Looking at the sharp profile of the powerful man beside her, Clara's shock hardened into a lethal, cold fury.
She was going to dump her family's shares, crash the board, and make Chadwick lose absolutely everything.

8.4
Arlene was the illegitimate daughter of the wealthy Boone family, treated worse than a stray dog. To keep her meager scholarship, she had to swallow her pride and apologize to the frat boy who tormented her.
But he didn't just want an apology. He forced her to drink twenty shots of liquor laced with pure capsaicin extract.
"Drink us under the table, or take off your clothes and crawl out."
Arlene drank until her stomach tore, vomiting blood and collapsing on the filthy club floor.
When she dragged her half-dead body back to the Boone estate, her biological father and half-sister didn't care. Instead, her sister ground Arlene's SAT admission ticket into the dirt with her stiletto.
"Throw her out. Dad doesn't want to look at her before Hardie's engagement."
The guards threw her onto the gravel, leaving her bleeding and barefoot in the freezing night.
Arlene sat shivering at a dark bus stop, her dignity completely stripped away. She never wanted a dime from the Boones, so why did they insist on crushing her only way out? And why did Dr. Hardie Boone, the untouchable head of the family, look at her with such a twisted, terrifying obsession?
When Hardie's black Aston Martin pulled out of the shadows, he scooped her up, took her away, and locked her inside his penthouse.
"You carry the Boone name. Whether you live or die is my decision."
Trapped by the dangerous man who demanded total control over her life, Arlene finally realized that simply running away was no longer an option.

9.1
The heavy oak doors of the Crane estate splintered under the battering ram. Annetta was just putting her five-year-old daughter to sleep when the SWAT team stormed the nursery.
They told her that her husband, Major Alek Crane, was killed in action overseas. But instead of a hero's funeral, he was branded a national traitor, and the feds were seizing every penny of their wealth.
Lead investigator Issac Rocha dragged Alek's charred remains into the grand hall just to mock him. He stripped Annetta of her wedding band, confiscated her winter coat, and officially exiled her, her daughter, and her hostile mother-in-law to a freezing Appalachian death zone. In the federal holding cell, the extended family turned on Annetta, calling her a cheap commoner and leaving her to shiver on the concrete floor. They were dumped in an abandoned mining town with nothing but canvas jumpsuits to die in the snow.
Annetta knew Alek was framed in a ruthless political hit. Issac Rocha wanted them to rot in the mud and freeze to death, completely forgotten by the world.
"We are going to live, and we are going to burn Issac Rocha to the ground."
But Issac made one fatal mistake. He didn't know the quiet, submissive daughter-in-law had spent the last three years secretly building a military-grade doomsday bunker right in the heart of that very mountain. Stepping past the freezing mud, Annetta initiated the biometric scan, and the massive steel blast doors slowly swung open.

9.5
As the fetal monitor screamed in the delivery room, Danae begged the nurses to call her billionaire husband to save their dying baby.
Instead of Adrian, his chief lawyer arrived with a chilling directive: all emergency interventions were explicitly denied.
While security guards pinned her arms to the mattress, Danae was forced to listen to her baby's heartbeat flatline. The lawyer simply dropped divorce papers on her bed and walked out. A sympathetic doctor helped Danae fake her own death to escape the family. Stripped of her assets and kicked out into the freezing rain, she tried to drown herself with her child's ashes, only to be saved by a mysterious benefactor.
Three years later, Danae returned as a top medical researcher. But at a high-profile symposium, she crossed paths with Adrian and his new fiancée—a cheap lookalike of Danae. The woman maliciously staged a bloody miscarriage using a restricted chemical, perfectly framing Danae's lab for the crime.
Adrian pinned Danae against the wall, his eyes black with rage, vowing to make her beg for death. Three years ago, he let their real child die without even answering the phone. Now, he was ready to destroy her over a fake pregnancy.
Just as Adrian's private guards dragged her away to be locked up, the hospital doors were violently kicked open. A rival billionaire stepped in with a team of ruthless lawyers, shielding Danae behind his back and declaring war.

9.2
Chelsi was down to her last fourteen dollars. After a humiliating job rejection for being "too low-class," the threat of eviction forced her to try live-streaming. Terrified of her exhausted, tear-stained face, she cranked the AR beauty filter to the max, morphing into a bizarre plastic alien.
She was immediately dragged into a forced streaming battle with Kamron, the platform's most arrogant top streamer. Seeing her distorted filter, Kamron sneered, unleashing fifty thousand fans to flood her chat with toxic insults.
Kamron set a ruthless penalty for her inevitable loss.
"You're going to take a bar of soap, scrub your face completely clean, and shove your bare face right into the camera."
Desperate to keep the fifty dollars she had just earned for rent, Chelsi begged for a different punishment, but Kamron coldly refused. With her heart pounding, she walked to the freezing bathroom, her hands shaking as she scrubbed her skin raw, bracing for the cyberbullying.
She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling utterly humiliated by the cruelty of the internet. Why did she have to be stripped of her dignity just to survive? She clicked off the filter, waiting for the tidal wave of disgust to destroy her.
But the insults never came. The high-definition camera revealed a breathtakingly delicate, flawless face that no algorithm could ever replicate. The chat went dead silent, Kamron was so stunned he dropped a ten-thousand-dollar virtual yacht, and a silent war between two mysterious billionaires was about to begin.