The Alpha's Regret: My Hidden Fortune.
To the outside world, I was the envy of every she-wolf as the fiancée of Alpha Kael. But inside the gilded cage of his pack house, I was a ghost.
I molded myself into perfection for him, wearing the colors he liked and suppressing my own voice.
Until I walked past his study and saw him with Lyra-the orphan he called his "sister."
His hand rested intimately on her thigh as he laughed, telling her, "Elara is just a political necessity. You are the moon in my sky."
My heart shattered, but the physical blow came days later.
During a training exercise, the safety cable snapped. I fell twenty feet, shattering my leg.
Lying in the dirt, gasping through the pain, I watched my Fated Mate run.
Not to me.
He ran to Lyra, who was burying her face in his chest, feigning terror. He comforted her while I bled.
Later, in the infirmary, I heard him whisper to her, "She won't die. It will just teach her who the real Luna is."
He knew. He knew she had sabotaged the rope with silver, and he was protecting her attempted murder.
The final thread of my love incinerated into ash.
The next morning, I walked into the Council Hall, threw a thick file on the table, and looked the Elders in the eye.
"I am dissolving the engagement," I stated coldly. "And I am withdrawing my family's silver supply. I will starve this Pack until you beg."
Kael laughed, thinking I was bluffing. He didn't notice the lethal Beta from the rival pack standing in the shadows behind me, ready to help me burn Kael's kingdom to the ground.
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Chapter 2
Elara POV
The sun rose, a mockery of warmth against the frost settling in my marrow.
It brought no light to my world. I hadn't slept. I had spent the night staring at the ceiling, feeling the mating bond in my chest wither like a dying leaf, curling in on itself until only ash remained.
When morning finally broke, I walked into the Council Hall. The air was heavy with the scent of old parchment, ancient timber, and the dust of centuries-old tradition.
Elder Silas, Kael's grandfather, sat at the head of the mahogany table. He looked up, blinking in surprise as I entered.
"Elara, child? What brings you here so early?"
"I am dissolving the engagement."
My voice was calm. Unnervingly so. It didn't sound like the voice of a heartbroken girl; it sounded like a stranger. It scared me.
Silas dropped his quill. It clattered loudly against the wood. "Dissolve? You are the Alpha's Mate. This is not a human marriage you can simply walk away from."
"It is a business arrangement," I corrected him, my tone crisp. "A contract. One that Alpha Kael has publicly and flagrantly breached."
I didn't wait for a response. I laid a thick file on the table between us.
"My family supplies sixty percent of this Pack's silver ore. We control the trade routes to the North. If I am merely a 'political necessity,' as your grandson so eloquently puts it, then I am withdrawing my political assets."
Silas's eyes widened. He was a wolf of logic, not emotion. He knew the Pack's economy relied on the lifeline my family provided.
"You would cut off the supply?" he asked, his voice dropping. "For a lovers' quarrel?"
"For my dignity," I said. "I will cut the supply. I will starve this Pack of silver until you beg. Unless the engagement is annulled, and I am free to find a new Pack."
Silas looked at me-really looked at me-for the first time in years. He didn't see a compliant girl anymore; he saw the steel in my spine.
"I... I will speak to the Council," he stammered, shifting in his seat. "We cannot afford to lose the trade routes."
I walked out, feeling a strange, hollow lightness in my chest. But the universe wasn't done testing me.
I turned a corner and nearly collided with Lyra.
She was coming from the direction of Kael's bedroom. The air around her was thick with his scent-musk, pine, and the undeniable, cloying smell of sex.
She smiled, a sickly sweet curving of her lips that didn't reach her eyes. She hooked her arm through mine with feigned familiarity.
"Oh, Elara! Good morning. Did you sleep well? Kael kept me up all night talking about Pack business. He's so dedicated."
Pack business. Right.
My stomach churned violently. The smell of her, mixed with him, was revolting.
"Don't touch me," I snapped.
I pulled my arm away. I didn't push her. I barely touched her.
But Lyra gasped. She threw herself backward, flailing her arms theatrically, and collapsed onto the stone pathway.
"Ah!" she shrieked, clutching her ankle. Tears instantly welled in her eyes, a perfect performance. "Elara! Why did you push me?"
Within seconds, the sound of thundering footsteps surrounded us. Pack members, warriors, servants-they circled us, their eyes wide and judging.
"She pushed her," someone whispered. "I saw it. Jealousy is an ugly thing."
Then, the air pressure dropped.
Alpha.
Kael pushed through the crowd. He didn't even look at me. He went straight to Lyra, kneeling beside her in the dust. His eyes were filled with a tenderness he had never, not once, shown me.
"Lyra? Are you hurt?"
"She... she didn't mean it, Kael," Lyra sobbed into his chest, burying her face in his shirt. "She's just upset because you spent time with me."
Kael looked up at me. His eyes were cold obsidian, void of any recognition.
Enough.
His voice boomed in my head through the Mind-Link. The Alpha Command.
My knees buckled, hitting the stone with a painful crack. My muscles locked up against my will, forcing me into submission. It was humiliating.
"You are the future Luna," Kael spat, standing up and pulling Lyra with him, shielding her from a threat that didn't exist. "Act like it. Stop bullying those weaker than you."
He wrapped a protective arm around Lyra and walked away. The Pack followed, leaving me kneeling alone in the dust.
They thought I was weak. They thought I was broken.
I looked at the retreating figure of the man who was supposed to be my soulmate.
"Alpha Kael," I whispered to the wind, a vow taking shape on my lips. "Your favor today is your regret tomorrow."
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8.6
In my past life, the Cerberus strain leaked, turning the world into a blood-soaked hell of rotting flesh and mutated monsters.
I thought my boyfriend Declan and my best friend Hailee would have my back as we fled the quarantine zone.
Instead, when the surging crowd of the infected cornered us, they didn't hesitate.
They shoved me backward into the horde just to buy themselves three seconds to run.
As I fell into the mud, I saw them fleeing without a single backward glance.
"She's dead weight anyway!" Hailee screamed.
"Just keep running, she'll distract them!" Declan yelled back.
I was torn apart, feeling the agonizing tear of rotting teeth sinking into my neck and the hot spray of my own blood.
Before the apocalypse, my greedy uncle had locked away my ten-million-dollar trust fund, leaving me with nothing but a fake boyfriend who only wanted me for my money.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand how the people I loved most could trade my life for a head start.
Why did I blindly trust them? Why didn't I see through their perfectly choreographed lies?
Opening my eyes again, the stench of decaying flesh vanished, replaced by the sterile smell of my college dorm room.
Hailee and Declan were standing over my bed, faking tears of concern over my meningitis fever.
I was back exactly seven days before the world ended, and my spatial vault ability had come back with me.
This time, I'm extorting my uncle for every cent, hoarding the city's supplies, and leaving them all to rot.
8.4
Ayleen Avery was just a struggling hotel worker trying to survive her shift. But during a sudden blackout, she accidentally stumbled into the pitch-black VIP suite of a ruthless billionaire driven mad by chronic insomnia.
Calmed only by her unique natural scent of roses and rain, the terrifying man attacked her from the shadows and forced himself on her. Terrified and broken, Ayleen fled at dawn, unknowingly leaving behind her late mother's antique rose necklace in his bed.
Her greedy coworker found the necklace, claimed to be the woman from that night, and was instantly swept into a life of luxury. Meanwhile, Ayleen was blackmailed into a forced marriage with her attacker—Cassius Doyle—to save her adoptive father from prison. Deceived by the stolen necklace, Cassius believed Ayleen was a manipulative spy. He brought the coworker into their home and paraded her around the master bedroom.
"In this house, you are lower than the dirt on my shoes."
He choked Ayleen, forced her to sleep in a damp storage room, and treated her with violent disgust while pampering the thief.
Ayleen was suffocating in absolute despair. She had lost her innocence, her freedom, and her mother's only relic to a vicious liar. She couldn't understand how this all-powerful man could be so completely blind. Why couldn't he recognize the very scent that had cured his agonizing madness?
Staring at the dark bruises he had just left on her neck, Ayleen wiped the blood from her lip. She would endure this three-month marriage to secure her family's safety, but once the contract ended, she would expose the truth and tear down the fake savior he cherished so much.
7.7
I fled my werewolf pack five years ago to hide in a human city, all to escape a recurring nightmare.
Every full moon, a terrifying, golden-eyed Lycan slaughters everything in his path, forces me to my knees with a crushing Alpha command, and claims I am his fated mate.
The vivid dreams were destroying my inner wolf, forcing me to finally agree to return to my pack for the annual Pack Run to seek a cure.
But right before my flight home, I accidentally bumped into Rick Miller, the most arrogant, tyrannical Alpha on our college campus.
He looked down at the coffee spilled on his expensive leather jacket with pure disdain, publicly humiliating me in front of the entire airport.
"Do you have any idea what this jacket costs? Never mind. It's not like you could afford to replace it."
As he coldly insulted me, a terrifying realization suddenly froze my blood.
He smelled exactly like the ancient pine and storm from my nightmares, and his brief touch sent a mate's electric spark straight to my soul.
How could this cruel, spoiled campus bully possibly be the legendary, terrifying Lycan King who haunted my every sleeping moment?
As he turned and boarded his private jet, I looked down at my trembling hands and realized the horrifying truth.
My trip back to the pack wasn't a journey to heal my trauma.
I was walking straight into the cage of the very monster I had spent five years trying to outrun.
7.6
I pulled the perfectly baked Beef Wellington from the oven, its rich scent filling our Manhattan penthouse. For five years, I’d crafted this perfect life, but tonight, I’d discover my entire existence was a cruel, silent lie. The man I loved had built it all on betrayal.
Preparing our anniversary dinner, I reflected on five years of building a flawless home for Blake, a dream I’d never known.
Searching for a pen, I found a hidden compartment in Blake’s desk containing a cheap black USB drive—a significant secret for a man who despised anything less than perfect.
His MacBook unlocked with his birthday, not ours. The USB, after a near-data-wipe, revealed "The Archives": hundreds of photos of Blake with his college girlfriend, Isabelle, passionate love letters, and a wardrobe chosen to mirror hers. My name yielded "0 results found," while millions were wired to Isabelle.
I was a meticulously funded stand-in, a ghost he dressed up to play house. My non-existence in his world and his financial betrayal ignited a cold, burning rage.
Blake returned, dismissive, offering a delayed anniversary gift. I confronted him; he ripped the USB, snapped it, and stated, "Nothing changes, as long as you know your place." My obedience shattered: "I want a divorce," I declared, then destroyed dinner and packed my own bag.
8.7
Adelia thought she was just heading upstairs to rest in the hotel suite arranged by her caring stepsister.
But her champagne had been heavily drugged. In the pitch-black room, her rational thoughts melted away as she was violently pulled into the darkness by a terrifying stranger.
The next morning, the heavy suite door was kicked open, and blinding camera flashes shattered her world.
Her fiancé stormed in, hurling their prenuptial agreement directly at her bleeding cheek.
"You make me sick! Violating our agreement like this. You are a disgusting, unfaithful whore!"
Her stepsister squeezed to the front of the crowd, crying perfectly rehearsed tears of horror for the tabloid reporters, while her eyes gleamed with pure, unadulterated triumph.
Desperate and trembling, Adelia begged her father for help, explaining she had been framed.
But her father, the family CEO, only cared about his plummeting stock prices. He coldly stripped her of her inheritance, froze her trust funds, and had massive security guards physically drag her out of Manhattan.
She hadn't just been betrayed; she had been completely slaughtered by the people she loved most. As the elevator plummeted toward the lobby, her tears dried into a bloody, silent vow.
Six years later, Adelia stepped out of JFK Airport, flanked by her terrifyingly smart six-year-old twins.
She was no longer a disgraced, pathetic victim. She had returned as a legendary, untouchable ghost surgeon, ready to rip her family's empire apart.
And her very first move involves saving the life of the ruthless Wall Street predator who ruined her that night.
9.1
Eleonora woke up in the hospital, still feeling the terrifying weightlessness of her own suicide.
She realized her chilling nightmare was actually a prophecy: she was destined to be the tragic, disposable villain, while her adopted sister Addisyn was the beloved protagonist.
On the day of her discharge, her father abandoned her to celebrate Addisyn's eighteenth birthday.
When Eleonora dragged her recovering body back to her family estate, she found her biometric access wiped and her home turned into a chaotic nightclub.
Addisyn had taken over the master bedroom and was wearing Eleonora's late mother's priceless sapphire necklace.
When Eleonora coldly demanded her property back, Addisyn squeezed out fake tears and played the pitiful victim.
Instantly, Eleonora's childhood fiancé and lifelong friends stepped up to shield Addisyn.
They scolded Eleonora for being cruel and classless, demanding she sleep in the guest room so she wouldn't ruin the party.
Downstairs, the elite guests mocked her as a crazy, jealous freak who was bullying her sweet sister.
In her nightmare, their blind devotion to this manipulative parasite had driven Eleonora to jump off a skyscraper.
She was the sole legal heir to the Carlisle estate, yet they expected her to quietly hand over her home, her mother's legacy, and her life to a thief.
But Eleonora was no longer a victim.
She pulled out the irrevocable trust documents, proving her absolute ownership, and looked at her loyal butler.
"Cut the power," she ordered coldly. "Throw every single trespasser out the gates."