Thanksgiving morning, my doctor wife told me once again she had a few emergency surgeries and couldn’t come home with me to visit my parents. But the second I checked Instagram, I saw my wife in Jason’s post, carving a turkey at what looked like a countryside kitchen, surrounded by strangers. The caption read: “Dad says having a surgeon for a daughter-in-law is great. Even carves turkey like a pro.” I just laughed coldly, hit like, and left a comment. “Makes sense. Professional training.” Colleagues immediately started blowing up the group chats, all thinking I’d finally lost it over my wife. Claire’s call came through right away, and I could already picture her frowning in annoyance. “Jason’s having a big family day. I’m just helping them out. What’s with your passive-aggressive bullshit?” “His family doesn’t have any women around. This feast is a huge deal and they can’t handle it themselves. I’m just lending a hand. What are you making a scene for?” “Withdraw the like and delete the comment right now. Don’t make Jason’s life difficult at the hospital. You hear me?” “I’ll pick another time to go back with you. Okay?” Another “I’ll pick another time.” But Claire only knew how to feed me empty promises, over and over again. I was done eating them. Done waiting. After this Thanksgiving weekend, once I got the divorce papers, our seven-year marriage would be finished for good. I didn’t respond to Claire and for the first time ever, I hung up on her myself. She lost it and my phone rang again immediately. I rejected it and blocked her, just like she always did to me when she was pissed. My parents looked over with concern. “Ethan, you and Claire…” Meeting their worried eyes, I smiled at them and took a couple bites of food, acting like it was nothing. “We can’t make it work. Getting divorced soon.” Mom sighed and patted Dad’s arm, forcing herself to sound upbeat as she called for everyone to eat. My phone buzzed with a notification from Jason posting a long apology in the work chat. “Just having some fun with everyone. Thanks to Dr. Reynolds for being cool about it. If this bothered anyone, my apologies.” But the words were dripping with smugness. Claire replied quickly. “Young people should have some energy. Nothing to apologize for. Whoever’s bothered is just being petty.” Actually, I wasn’t bothered at all. Getting to cut ties with Claire clean? That was perfect. Once the Medical Director made her stance clear, everyone instantly knew which side to pick and they all started chiming in. “The hospital’s usually so dead anyway. Jason’s sacrificing himself to keep things lively. We should thank him.” “Who knew Dr. Reynolds was just as skilled with a knife outside the OR? Jason’s got it made!” “Haha, everyone knows there’s only ONE person at our hospital who’s that petty.” Watching them continuously trash me made me feel pathetic. Because half the people kissing Jason’s ass were surgeons I’d trained personally. Back then they were sucking up to me constantly. Now, I was just “that person” they mocked. Claire was the Medical Director. She favored Jason, so Jason became the golden boy in everyone’s eyes. Never mind that this hospital only existed because of my techniques and my entire life savings. None of it could compete with Claire’s shameless favoritism. I laughed bitterly, turned off my screen, and tried to pull myself together to have a proper meal with my parents. Then Claire actually called my mom’s phone. Mom looked at me, lost. I sighed and finally answered. But before I could say anything, I heard Claire’s cold, emotionless voice. “Is Ethan there with you? Put him on. I need to talk to him.” In that moment, I regretted picking up. She had the nerve to call my mom’s phone to find me, but couldn’t even say “Mom” when my mother answered. Something clenched in my chest. “What do you want?” Hearing my voice, Claire’s tone turned even colder. “Jason’s previous surgery patient is showing signs of post-op infection. You need to get back to the hospital right now and perform a second surgery.” Her voice was commanding, brooking no argument, ordering me around like I was a damn dog. Rage suddenly flared inside me. The patient needed cardiac septal grafting and even if I performed it, I couldn’t guarantee better than fifty-fifty odds. But Jason wanted to climb to department head, so he shamelessly begged me for that surgery. I knew his half-assed skills couldn’t handle it and I refused outright. But Claire’s head was full of nothing but Jason and without a word, she transferred the patient to Jason. I fought her on it. Claire said rookies need experience, told me not to be so concerned with personal gain and loss. A human life was just a stepping stone for her boy. Now there was a problem, and she wanted me to clean up Jason’s mess. Did she really think I was some kind of sucker? I refused directly. “I can’t come back. Whoever screwed up takes responsibility. If you can’t stand watching, then you do the surgery yourself. You’re his guarantor anyway.” “I’m eating with my parents right now. They thought you were coming back, made a whole spread. Can’t let it go to waste. If that’s all, I’m hanging up.” I was about to end the call when Claire suddenly screamed on the other end. “Try hanging up on me! Ethan, have I been giving you too much slack lately?!”

Her scream was so loud and even startled my mom, who was hard of hearing. She turned to look at me, worry all over her face. I forced down the rage building in my chest, walked outside with my phone, and lowered my voice to snap back at her. “What the hell are you yelling at me for?” The other end went silent for a moment. Then Claire got pissed too. “I know you’re mad I broke my promise, but I already said I’d make time to go back with you. What more do you want?” “Jason’s surgery-you’re doing it whether you like it or not. Otherwise, we’re done.” Perfect. I didn’t want to stay with her anyway. I was about to tell Claire we were getting divorced when I heard Jason’s voice on the other end. “Claire, the food’s ready. Your dad’s calling you to eat.” Then I heard Claire cover the phone and respond in a voice so sweet it made me sick. “I’m just handling some hospital business. I’ll be right there. Tell Dad I said so.” I laughed. “So Dr. Reynolds has found herself a new father? Don’t want to keep your old man waiting.” “Oh right, I forgot… I’m the petty one.” Jason must not have walked away yet because Claire hissed at me in a furious whisper. “Jason’s from a small town where people gossip. I’m his boss. What’s wrong with helping him save face? What’s with your passive-aggressive crap?” “I’m telling you, Ethan, you’ve got three days to do that surgery. Otherwise, get the hell out of my hospital!” She hung up. I stood outside my parents’ house in the wind, feeling empty inside. But just after I’d decided I definitely wasn’t going to be her scapegoat this time, the Chief of Surgery called. He said someone reported me for performing surgery while drunk, causing a medical malpractice case, and I needed to get back immediately to deal with it. In that moment, I felt like I was losing my mind. My breathing got rapid. “Sir, you’ve got this wrong. The patient had congenital hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. He was already critical when he came in.” But the Chief sent me a copy of the complaint. My head started buzzing and I didn’t even finish dinner before rushing back to the hospital in a panic. Facing the Chief’s reproachful look, I requested to confront my accuser. The Chief didn’t say anything, just brought out a witness to identify me. But this witness, the anesthesiologist from that surgery, was Jason’s good buddy. Realizing what was happening, I exploded with rage. “Sir, he’s Jason’s guy. He could be framing me.” I couldn’t find proof, so my defense sounded weak. But a sharp, angry voice cut me off. “Enough!” Claire pushed through the door, looking at me with pure disgust. “You did the wrong things and still to drag Jason. You hating him! Trying to destroy him!” “Ethan! I thought you were just petty, but at least professional in surgery. I never imagined you’d be this shameless!” “Do you know how serious it is to fake medical disputes? I never thought you’d gamble with a patient’s life like this! Someone like you doesn’t deserve to be a doctor! Doesn’t deserve to be my husband!” I stood frozen, my throat feeling like it was stabbed with a thousand needles. After a long time, I finally managed to speak. “Claire, in your heart, do you really think I’m the kind of person who’d kill a patient out of jealousy?” Claire’s chest heaved as she looked at me with dark eyes. “What else?” “I saw it myself. The fridge at home is full of beer bottles.” One sentence sealed my fate. The Chief issued my termination on the spot and my colleagues’ spit landed on me. I was still in shock, just finishing packing my things to leave, when the patient’s family rushed over and kicked me to the ground. “You bastard! Why did you kill my son? Who told you to drink?” The woman kicked me over and over, then started slapping my face. My vision went blurry and the woman got dragged away while I crouched on the floor picking up my scattered belongings. Then Jason’s voice suddenly came from behind me. “Ethan, you got what you deserved.”

Isn’t he the one who orchestrated all this? And here he is pretending to be surprised? I laughed coldly and shot back. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I just think working with trash like you lowers my value. That’s why I quit.” Jason’s smile grew wider and he put on this smug, arrogant look, raising his voice to point at me. “Ethan, you’re a doctor. Now you’ve caused a malpractice case. Sure, you resigned and ran away, but when the patient’s family comes to the hospital to make trouble, it affects the hospital’s reputation.” “I suggest you get on your knees and apologize to everyone here. Otherwise, why should we have to deal with the fallout you created?” He looked around, waiting for someone to back him up. I thought this was ridiculous, turned around, and started to leave. But Jason wouldn’t let it go and rushed forward to block me. I tried to dodge him and the instant we passed each other, he dropped to the floor on his ass. Claire’s voice rang out immediately. “Jason! Are you okay?” She ran to Jason’s side, asking him with concern all over her face, then turned to glare at me with absolute fury. “Ethan! If you’ve got a problem, go get help! Why the hell are you pushing people around? Apologize to Jason right now!” Before I could respond, Jason started playing the good guy. “Claire, don’t get mad. I’m just worried Ethan’s malpractice case will hurt the hospital. He didn’t mean to push me…” Bringing up the malpractice case got Claire fired up again and she demanded with furrowed brows. “I asked you to cover one surgery and you refused a hundred times. Now the patient’s got problems. What are you going to do about it?” “I never realized before that you’re the kind of person who treats lives like a joke!” I thought it was hilarious and immediately asked her back. “So when you helped Jason frame me, you weren’t treating my life like a joke?” Then I looked at the guilty-looking Jason with narrowed eyes. “Scum like him? He’ll get you killed sooner or later!” Claire immediately shielded Jason and threw my words back at me. “Ethan! Stop attacking people! You got drunk and screwed up a surgery-who’s fault is that but yours? This is your fate!” All my rage got stuck in my throat and finally just turned into a bitter laugh. It’s always like this. Whenever Jason’s involved, she’ll defend him unconditionally, even if it costs me my career. I couldn’t find evidence yet, so I had to take the fall. Too lazy to argue with them anymore, I picked up my box and tried to leave again. But Claire wouldn’t let it go and grabbed my sleeve. “You think resigning fixes everything? I’m going to notify every hospital in the city! I’ll get you blacklisted from the entire industry!” I turned my head slightly, giving Claire and Jason a contemptuous look, and said calmly. “Go ahead. But before you send that notice, you should probably go pay respects to that patient.” “Just in case his soul hasn’t moved on yet and comes back as a ghost to collect what you two owe him in the middle of the night!” After saying that, I ignored their guilty wide eyes and walked with big strides toward the hospital exit. Claire’s always been like this, always ready to assume the worst about me. So the second the patient died, she blamed me. She wanted me to take the fall to protect Jason. But none of that mattered anymore. After leaving the hospital, I found a realtor and listed the house I’d bought in full when Claire and I got married. The young agent said excitedly that the market was good lately and the house would sell for a lot. I just told him flatly that the place was kind of messy, so when he found a buyer, just get someone to haul everything out with the trash. I didn’t want a single thing that belonged to Claire. Then I went to the courthouse and before closing time, I walked out with my divorce decree. She probably forgot herself that she was the one who threw that divorce agreement in my face in a fit of rage. Remembering I’d forgotten to tell Claire to move out of the house, I drove home to lay it all out. The whole drive, I imagined what her face would look like when she saw the divorce papers. But I didn’t expect her to give me a surprise first. The smart lock on my door suddenly wouldn’t open.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260619Pp3elqznii 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni723165”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” That’s what I heard when I opened the door to my own house. My husband-Gavin kissing a 21-year-old girl deeply. Three hours ago, this man canceled our anniversary trip to take care of his sick mother. Now he’s taking care of a different girl. So where’s his mother—the one who’s been dead for three months? **** Three hours earlier at the airport, Gavin’s phone buzzed just as we were about to board to enjoy our wedding anniversary trip. “Babe, I’m so sorry. My mom’s sick. I need to go back. Can’t make this trip.” I was disappointed. But his mom came first. I said okay. Gavin left. I tore up the ticket. Then I remembered—his mom died three months ago. Time to see what kind of “sick” a dead woman gets. I followed Gavin’s car. All the way to our house. I didn’t get out. I checked my phone instead. Tiffany,our housekeeper’s daughter was blasting Instagram stories. [Best 21st birthday EVER. Thank you for spoiling me rotten. ❤️] The photo: White lace dress. Leaning into a man’s chest. The man was my devoted husband. I cracked my knuckles. Got out. Walked to the door and opened it. Balloons everywhere. A dozen people crowding around two persons in the center. They were chanting,”Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Gavin grabbed Tiffany’s waist and kissed her. The crowd went wild. When they finally broke apart, Gavin was still stroking her lips with his thumb. Then he looked up. And saw me standing in the front row. His eyes went wide. He shoved Tiffany back. I was faster. Slap. Slap. Two clean hits across his face. The room went silent. Tiffany spun around. Saw me. Screamed. Grabbed Gavin’s arm and hid behind him. I smiled. “Didn’t know you had a new mom, Gavin.”

He stammered. Tried to explain. A girl with short hair shoved me hard. “Who the hell are you? You can’t just barge into someone’s house and hit people! Apologize to Tiffany’s boyfriend. Now.” The others joined in,”Yeah, assault is illegal. She should apologize. Or we call the cops.” “I bet she has priors. Who knows what she’ll do next?” “How did this psycho even get in here? Does she know who she just hit?” I looked at them. Smiled wider. Then turned to Gavin. “You think I shouldn’t have slapped you?” Gavin licked his lips. Started to speak. Tiffany tugged his sleeve. Shook her head. I saw it all. Curious what game they’d play. Gavin glared at me. “Scarlett, what the hell is wrong with you? It’s Tiffany’s birthday. Whatever you want to say, say it later. Stop embarrassing yourself. Get out!” Protecting his mistress in front of her friends. How sweet. I laughed. Cold. “Get out? Are you two hiding something?” Tiffany started crying. “Scarlett, I know you’ve always had a crush on Gavin. I know it hurts to see us together. But love is mutual. Gavin loves me. We’ve been together for two years. He promised to marry me after I graduate. Please stop chasing him.” Gavin’s face twitched. He didn’t expect her to say that. He glanced at me. I froze. We’d been married for two years and one month. They’d been together for two years. He cheated one month after our wedding. And hired Mrs. Higgins as our housekeeper just to move Tiffany in. Two years. I’d been played for two years. The short-haired girl spoke again. “Oh my God. You’re the housekeeper who has a crush on Tiffany’s boyfriend. Pathetic. Trying to steal him in public?” I laughed. Actually laughed. “Tiffany, still dreaming? What makes you think you’re worth me working as your maid?”

Before I could say another word, someone threw a drink in my face. The short-haired girl held an empty glass. Smirking. “You’re the one who needs to wake up!” “We all know who Tiffany is. Her mom runs a huge business. Her boyfriend owns a company. This whole villa is hers.” “And you? Look at what you’re wearing. Cheap knockoffs. No brand labels. You’re only good for scrubbing floors.” Cheap knockoffs? My clothes had no labels because they were custom couture. Hand-designed by masters. The other girls piled on, “Exactly. Apologize to Tiffany. Or you’ll lose your job too.” A guy spoke up. Sleazy tone: “Lady, you’re way too old to be competing with Tiffany. If you’re that desperate for a man, I can help. I’ve never tried someone in their thirties. One hundred dollars for the night?” Everyone laughed. I wiped the drink off my face. Stared at Gavin. “Gavin. I’m your wife. You’re going to stand there and let them insult me for your mistress? Don’t you dare regret this.” Gavin’s face was ice. “Tiffany’s my girlfriend. You brought this on yourself.” Vague. Cowardly. Tiffany stood taller. Seeing all her friends back her up, seeing Gavin on her side, she got bold. “Scarlett, I call you that because you’re older. But don’t forget your place. You can throw tantrums at home all you want. I don’t care if you disrespect me today. But Gavin is a man. All these people are watching. He’s a CEO. You slapped him in public. Did you think about his feelings?” She turned to Gavin. Voice soft. “Gavin, I may be young, but I know how to protect my man. I give you respect in public. Unlike… some people.” Double meaning. Hitting his ego. His insecurity. I laughed coldly. “You’re right. I forgot to slap you.” I grabbed her hair. Slap. Slap. Two hard hits across her face. Tiffany screamed. Covered her cheek. Sobbing. “You hit me! I won’t let you get away with this!” “Keep barking.” I raised my hand again. Gavin grabbed my wrist. Shoved me hard. I stumbled backward into the champagne tower. Crashed to the floor. Glass shards buried in my palm. Gavin didn’t even look at me. He pulled Tiffany into his arms. “Scarlett. Apologize to Tiffany. Now.” I stared at my bleeding hand. Bit down on the pain. Pulled the glass out piece by piece. Two years of marriage. Like glass shards. Cutting into me. Tiffany smiled at me from his arms. Triumphant. My voice went cold. “Gavin. You threw a birthday party for your mistress in my house. You cheated on me and now you want me to apologize to her? Are you brain-dead? Or do you think I’m a pushover? Don’t forget, I’m your legal wife. I gave you everything. I can take it all back. I can make you a broke nobody.”

Gavin’s eyes flickered. Tiffany jumped in first. “Scarlett, Gavin built his company with his own hard work and talent. He earned his wealth through his own ability. Don’t act like you helped him.” He couldn’t even read a basic business project. Talent? When he started his company, I gave him $100,000 from my family. I got him million-dollar contracts from my dad’s company. I didn’t want to hurt his pride, so I secretly transferred top managers from my dad’s firm to Gavin’s startup. He thought he was a genius. Why else would industry elites join his tiny company? It was all me. Without me, he’d never have gone from a startup to a company about to go public in two years. The guests started whispering, “She said this is her house. That Tiffany’s the mistress. Think it’s true?” “Maybe. The guy’s way older than Tiffany. I always said something was off.” “But he’s protecting her. Would a cheater be this bold?” “Let’s just watch. We’ll find out.” The short-haired girl snapped, “Stop speculating! This is Tiffany’s house. I’ve been here dozens of times. I’ve seen them sleep in the master bedroom. I’ve even met her mom. A real socialite.” I understood now. They’d been rolling around in my bed. Disgusting. Tiffany flashed the diamond ring on her finger. “This is my house. Everyone here can confirm it. You’re the one who should leave. Gavin, I don’t want to see her. Make her go.” Gavin nodded. “This is your house. Whatever makes you happy.” The short-haired girl grabbed my hair. Dragged me toward the door. “Have some self-awareness, lady. You can’t just steal someone’s boyfriend. Pathetic.” She yelled to the others, “Want to see what this homewrecker looks like naked? Let’s strip her! For Tiffany!” My eyes went wide. I covered my chest. Some of the guys moved forward. Started pulling at my clothes. I fought back. Screamed at Gavin. Begged him to stop them. Gavin frowned. Started to raise his hand. Tiffany grabbed it. “Gavin, relax. My friends know what they’re doing. They’re just standing up for me. And this way, you’ll have leverage over her later.” Gavin nodded. Pinched her cheek. They both watched as my clothes were torn apart. “Let me go! This is illegal!” The short-haired girl slapped me. “We’re doing you a favor. You like stealing men? We’ve got plenty of guys here. You should be grateful.” Her words hung in the air. I felt hands all over me. I was losing hope. Then a voice came from the door. “How’s my princess’s birthday going? Mommy’s gift just arrived.”

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/2026061996FNqyCQzX 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni408011”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

I returned from London to find the wine missing. Not just any wine—three bottles of 1945 Romanée-Conti, worth five million dollars total, purchased specifically for my daughter Lily’s christening gala. I’d spent months hunting them down through private auction houses, authenticating every detail. Now they were gone. I stood frozen in our penthouse wine cellar, staring at the empty slots in the climate-controlled vault. My hands trembled as I pulled out my phone, scrolling through Instagram with mounting dread. There it was. Serena’s story from two hours ago: three bottles of burgundy positioned artfully on a marble table, surrounded by crystal glasses and elaborate floral arrangements. The caption read: “When your boss knows how to celebrate properly. Everyone says it’s the best wine they’ve ever tasted.” My vision blurred. Julian had commented below: “Only the best for you. If it made you smile, it was worth every penny.” I screenshot the post and opened the company Slack channel—the main one with all 200 employees. My fingers flew across the keyboard. Charlotte Vance: Interesting. Julian can’t afford to buy his assistant birthday wine, so he steals from his daughter’s christening instead? How thoughtful. I attached the screenshot. My phone immediately exploded with notifications, but I ignored them. I was shaking so hard I had to sit down on the Persian rug in our living room. The phone rang. Julian. “Charlotte, what the hell is wrong with you?” His voice was sharp, impatient. “You’re being insane over a few bottles of wine?” “A few bottles—” “I don’t have time for this childish tantrum. Buy more if you want them so badly. I’m not dealing with your drama right now—Serena’s about to give her presentation to the Singapore investors. We’ll talk later.” The line went dead. I stared at my phone, a bitter laugh escaping my throat. Family thieves were always the hardest to guard against. The phone rang again. Different number. “Mrs. Thorne? This is Madison from Portrait Atelier. Just a reminder that your appointment for Lily’s family portraits is in an hour. Don’t forget to come early for wardrobe selection!” I checked my watch. Fifty-three minutes. Julian was… at Serena’s birthday party. I was silent for a long moment. “Change it to just me and my daughter. Her father won’t be attending.” “Oh! That’s—if Mr. Thorne is busy, we can absolutely reschedule to a more convenient—” “No. Today. Just us.” I hung up. If he couldn’t be bothered to prioritize his daughter, I wouldn’t waste time waiting for him. — Portrait Atelier occupied the entire twentieth floor of a building in Tribeca, all exposed brick and natural light. The staff greeted me with careful smiles—a mixture of pity and awkward sympathy. I barely noticed. I just wanted this done. The stylist led me to the viewing area while another assistant prepared Lily’s wardrobe. “We’ll pull up some sample shots for inspiration while you wait, Mrs. Thorne.” I nodded absently, settling into the velvet chair with Lily sleeping in my arms. The monitor flickered to life. My heart stopped. There, in crisp high-definition, was Julian in a charcoal Tom Ford tuxedo. Beside him, Serena wore a white Vera Wang gown, her hand resting possessively on his chest as she gazed up at him with practiced adoration. Wedding photos. They were fucking wedding photos. The stylist, oblivious to the blood draining from my face, smiled brightly. “Oh, those two! They came in last week to pick up their prints. Such a sweet couple—we’re actually thinking of using these shots for our portfolio. The chemistry is just—” She finally looked at me and froze. “Mrs. Thorne? Are you… alright?” Lily, sensing my distress, began to wail.

“Just—” My voice cracked. “Just pick whatever you think works. I’ll be back.” I practically ran out, clutching my screaming daughter, my vision swimming. I paid the balance at the front desk without looking at anyone and escaped into the elevator. Back at the penthouse, I finally got Lily calmed down and settled in her bassinet. My phone had been vibrating non-stop. The Slack channel was in absolute chaos. I opened it. Serena had @’d me with a carefully crafted message: Serena Walsh: I apologize, Charlotte. I understand you have concerns about me, but today’s situation is truly a misunderstanding. The wine was a personal gift from Julian for my hard work on the Singapore project—I had no idea it was meant for Lily’s christening. Today’s party was Julian’s way of celebrating both my birthday and the successful deal we just closed. Your outburst has embarrassed him in front of major partners. If this deal falls through because of the hostile work environment you’ve created, the losses will be far more than a few bottles of wine… but I suppose that’s on me for accepting the gift. I should have known better. The classic passive-aggressive victim routine. Poor little Serena, just trying to do her job, caught in the crossfire of a jealous wife. Before I could respond, Julian’s message appeared: Julian Thorne: @Charlotte Vance Serena has apologized. She’s offered to reimburse you. What more do you want? Do you really need to air our private issues in front of the entire company? You’re making us both look ridiculous. This petty jealousy over a few bottles of wine is beneath you. Grow up. Employees started chiming in immediately: David K.: Honestly, Charlotte, Serena has been working 80-hour weeks on the Singapore deal. A little recognition seems reasonable. Michelle R.: Women need to support women. Serena’s just trying to do her job. This seems like overkill for some wine… Tom S.: Julian’s under a lot of pressure. Maybe cut him some slack? I watched the messages pile up—defending Serena, chastising me, painting me as the hysterical, jealous wife having a meltdown over nothing. Something inside me went very, very quiet. The rage evaporated, replaced by crystal clarity. I typed slowly, deliberately: Charlotte Vance: Perfect. Three bottles at $5 million total. I expect the wire transfer to my account by tomorrow morning. Thanks. I hit send. Then I tapped “Leave Channel” and watched the chaos disappear. Silence. — It hadn’t always been like this. Julian and I had been solid—or so I’d thought. But then Serena joined the company eight months ago, right as I entered my third trimester. While I was on bed rest, Julian was hiking the Catskills with Serena for “team building.” He started coming home later. Mentioning her name more. Serena thinks we should pivot to Asian markets. Serena landed us a meeting with the Singaporeans. Serena stayed late again to prep the pitch deck. I’d convinced myself I was being paranoid. Pregnancy hormones. Exhaustion. But after Lily was born, it got worse. While our daughter screamed through the night, Julian was at the office with Serena. Late dinners. Weekend “strategy sessions.” That’s when I knew. His heart had left our home long ago. I stared at my sleeping daughter, then opened my messages and typed: To: Marcus Goldstein, Esq. I need a divorce attorney. Fast. I paused, finger hovering over send. The christening gala was in two days. If we announced a divorce now, the whispers would follow Lily for years. “Born just before her parents split.” “The christening where everything fell apart.” I deleted the message. I’d wait until after the gala. For Lily’s sake. But I called my father. “Daddy? I need you to source more 1945 Romanée-Conti. Yes, I know they’re nearly impossible to find. No, I can’t explain right now. Can you try?” He managed to locate two bottles through his connections—not the same vintage year, but close enough. They’d have to do. The christening gala was going to happen. With or without Julian.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260619j8lIh8VZZO 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni728557”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

The day my wife went to the airport to pick up her first love Damien Sterling—freshly returned from overseas—two children fell down at the same time. I helped our son Ryan first. I didn’t immediately rush to help Damien’s son, Adrian. She turned on her heel and had me and Ryan shipped off to a desolate monastery in the Alaskan wilderness. Said we needed to learn some compassion and humility. Life at Frostpeak Monastery was brutal—starvation, freezing temperatures, isolation. Three years later, Ryan was frozen to death. The day we buried him, my wife Victoria arrived at the monastery with Damien by her side. She said she needed Ryan’s bone marrow to see if it would match Adrian’s. The boy had leukemia. I told her Ryan was dead. She sneered. “Three years, and you haven’t changed one bit. Just because you don’t want to save Adrian, you’d actually curse your own son? You’d lie about something like this?” Her eyes flashed with contempt. “Let me tell you something, Ethan. I don’t care if Ryan’s alive or dead. Even if he really is gone, I’ll dig up his coffin myself and see if his bone marrow is still viable.” — I was forced to stand at the monastery gates, waiting for our “honored guests.” What I didn’t expect was that the guest would be Victoria herself—the woman who’d callously sent me and our son to suffer in this godforsaken place. Three years. Three whole years without seeing her. The first words out of her mouth? “So. Have you reflected on what you did wrong?” I stared at those cold, beautiful eyes. For a moment, I’d almost forgotten why we were here in the first place. Then it all came rushing back. Two kids had fallen. I’d helped Ryan up first. Victoria had just returned from the airport with Damien. She saw me helping our son while Damien rushed to comfort little Adrian. She’d frowned, furious. Told me I was petty. Small-minded. “Adrian’s only staying with us temporarily. Now that Damien’s back, he’ll take him home soon. I didn’t think you’d be this jealous. Can’t you be the bigger person for just a few days?” She’d looked so disappointed in me. “Take your son. Go to Frostpeak Monastery. Stay there until you’ve learned to be better. When you’ve changed, you can come home.” And just like that, Ryan and I were sent to this remote, freezing hellhole. We barely had enough to eat. The cold was unforgiving. Occasionally, wild animals would prowl too close. Victoria never visited. Not once. I pulled myself back to the present and gave her a flat “Yeah.” Her expression softened slightly. Then she got to the point. “Adrian has leukemia. I need Ryan to do a bone marrow compatibility test. Since it’s for Adrian, I’m being generous enough to come get you both myself.” I swallowed the bitter taste rising in my throat. “You can’t take him,” I said quietly. “As for me…” I let out a hollow laugh. “I’m staying here. With my son.” Victoria’s face darkened instantly. “What’s that supposed to mean? Adrian is dying, and you’ve become this selfish, petty shell of a man? This is a child’s LIFE we’re talking about!” She didn’t know it, but every word she spoke felt like a knife twisting deeper into my chest. Damien stepped forward, his voice dripping with false humility. “Ethan, I know you resent me and Adrian. I know Victoria sent you and Ryan here three years ago because of us. I’m sorry.” He lowered his head, the picture of contrition. “If you let Ryan do the compatibility test, I’ll do anything—anything—to make it up to you.” Victoria grabbed his hand, her voice soft and soothing. “Don’t apologize to him. He’s the one who was in the wrong! Ryan is MY son. I carried him for nine months, I gave birth to him. Ethan has no right to keep him from me.” She glared at me, eyes burning. I stared back, silent. She took a deep breath. Then she barked orders at her security team. “Search every inch of this place. Tear it apart if you have to. Find Ryan. NOW.” Her tone left no room for argument. The monks nearby exchanged uneasy glances. Father Thomas, the head of the monastery, stepped forward. “Ma’am, it’s not that Mr. Cross doesn’t want to help. It’s just… the boy—” “Just WHAT?” Victoria cut him off with a cold laugh. Father Thomas sighed heavily. “Young Ryan… passed away seven days ago. He froze to death.” Victoria froze for a split second. Then her face twisted with fury. “Ryan is dead?” Her voice was ice. “Is that what you’re telling me, Ethan?” I said nothing. My silence was answer enough. She swept her arm across the table, shattering a glass tumbler. “Three YEARS, Ethan! Three years, and you haven’t grown AT ALL! You’re so determined not to save Adrian that you’d actually curse your own son! You’d LIE about his death!” She leaned in close, her voice venomous. “Let me be clear. I don’t care if Ryan’s dead or alive. If he really is gone, I’ll dig up his coffin myself and check if his bone marrow is still usable!”

Victoria’s eyes burned with a determination that would accept no refusal. She couldn’t understand it. How had Ethan—gentle, kind Ethan—turned into this unrecognizable stranger? On the drive up to Frostpeak, she’d still been daydreaming about their future together. She’d planned to tell him the truth. Three years ago, sending him and Ryan away had been a desperate move. The Sterling Corporation was in chaos back then. To stabilize things, she’d had to pretend to be married to Damien. She couldn’t risk anyone finding out about Ethan and Ryan, so she’d made up an excuse and sent them somewhere “safe.” Remote, yes. But safe. She’d always planned to bring them back. But work got overwhelming. The company needed her. One day turned into another, and she kept putting it off. She’d convinced herself it was fine. Ethan was so sweet-natured, so forgiving. She’d just charm him a little, apologize, and he’d forgive her. He always forgave her. As for Ryan—sure, she’d been annoyed when he was born and started stealing Ethan’s attention away from her. But he was their son. Their flesh and blood. She’d make it up to him. She’d already commissioned a private playground to be built just for him. There was no way the kid could resist that. He’d forgive her for some toys and treats. She would make up for everything they’d suffered these past three years. But then Adrian got sick. Leukemia. When the doctors said Ryan’s bone marrow might be a match, she’d been overjoyed. Couldn’t sleep for days. Finally, she had the perfect excuse to bring them home. Except Ethan had changed. He was lying to her. Saying Ryan was dead. Frozen to death. What a joke. She’d sent supplies every single month for three years. Made sure they had everything they needed. That’s what made his ridiculous lie so infuriating. The rage boiled over. She grabbed Ethan’s wrist, gripping it hard. Staring into his eyes. “Give me back my gentle Ethan,” she thought.” He’s not supposed to be like this.” After a moment, her eyes reddened. She loosened her grip slightly, afraid of hurting him. “Just apologize,” she thought desperately.” Say you’re sorry and I’ll let this all go.” She watched him intently, her lips trembling. Ethan opened his mouth. And said: “Victoria, our son is really dead. You killed him.” “If you hadn’t sent us to this hellhole without a second thought, he’d still be alive.” Each word was a dagger to her heart. He wasn’t just lying—he was trying to blame HER. This man wasn’t the Ethan she knew anymore. She let go of his wrist and stepped back, defeated. When she looked up again, her eyes were cold and resolved. But before she could speak, one of her men came running over. “Mrs. Sterling! We found the boy!”

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260619lXwLct4yqF 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni040848”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

The hospital billing office closed in ten minutes. I needed $10,000. I had $9,847.23. One hundred and fifty-two dollars and seventy-seven cents short. My son was in the ICU. Eighteen years old. Appendicitis that turned septic because we waited too long. Because I’d been trying to “budget responsibly.” I’d called everyone. My sister. My college roommate. The church. Anyone who might lend me two hundred dollars. Everyone said the same thing: “But Maya, your husband’s a Colonel. Surely he can—” Colonel Marcus Thorne. Decorated military officer. Six-figure salary. Benefits out the ass. And he told me, for the third time this week, that he couldn’t help. “I’m supporting someone, Maya. You know this. I have obligations.” Obligations. To Vivienne Park. The widow of his fallen comrade. I’d been hearing about Vivienne Park for eighteen years. She’s fragile. She needs help. Her husband died serving our country. And I’d believed him. I’d been the good military wife. Stretched every dollar. Worked three jobs while he was deployed. Raised our son alone. My mother—my beautiful, selfless mother—had been staying with us to help with Dylan while he recovered. When I told her I was $153 short, she didn’t say anything. She just left. Came back two hours later, shivering. January in Colorado. Seventeen degrees. She pressed two hundred-dollar bills into my hand. “Where did you—” “Pawn shop,” she said. Her lips were blue. “Sold my winter coat. The good one you bought me for Christmas.” “Mom, no—” “Dylan needs you. Go pay the bill.” I paid the bill. I brought Dylan home. I found my mother three hours later. Collapsed in the guest room. Hypothermia. She’d been too cold to call for help. By the time the ambulance arrived, she was gone. — I buried my mother on a Tuesday. Marcus didn’t come to the funeral. He was “busy.” Dylan came. Stood next to me. Silent. After, I went home to our base housing unit—the small, outdated one Marcus insisted we live in because “we need to save money.” I was looking for the insurance papers Mom had mentioned. Found them in Marcus’s desk drawer. Along with something else. FedEx receipts. Dozens of them. All addressed to the same person: Vivienne Park. New York, NY. I pulled them out. Read them. La Mer face cream – $350 Chanel No. 5 – $180 Cartier Love Bracelet – $6,500 Hermès Birkin Bag – $12,000 My hands shook. There was more. A jewelry box. Hidden under the insurance folder. Inside: A Rolex. Women’s. Rose gold. Still in the box. $25,000. Twenty-five thousand dollars. The same amount we needed for Dylan’s surgery. The amount Marcus said we didn’t have. I found a photo. Tucked into the jewelry box. Vivienne. Standing in Times Square. Designer coat. Perfectly styled hair. Skin glowing like she’d just come from a spa. On the back, in Marcus’s handwriting: My beautiful girl. Worth every penny. I confronted him that night. Walked into the living room where he sat watching ESPN. Threw the receipts on the coffee table. “What the hell is this?” Marcus glanced at the papers. Didn’t even flinch. “Vivienne needed those things.” “Needed? She needed a Birkin bag?” Dylan appeared in the doorway. “Mom, calm down. You’re being dramatic.” “Dramatic?” I turned to him. “Your grandmother is dead. She froze to death because your father wouldn’t give us $153. And he’s spending thousands on—” “On someone who deserves it,” Dylan interrupted. “Dad’s helping Vivienne. She’s educated. Cultured. She has a PhD from Columbia, Mom. She’s not like—” He stopped. “Not like what?” “Not like you,” he said quietly. “You didn’t even finish college.” The room tilted. “I didn’t finish because I was pregnant with you,” I said. “I dropped out to raise you while your father was deployed.” Marcus stood. Walked over. Patted my shoulder like I was a child. “Maya. Vivienne has needs. She’s building a career. She can’t do that without support.” “And I don’t have needs?” “You’re a housewife. What do you need besides groceries?” I stared at him. This was the man I’d married at nineteen. The man who’d promised to build a life with me. “I want a divorce,” I said. Marcus laughed. Actually laughed. “You can’t afford a divorce, sweetheart. What are you going to do? You have no degree. No work history. No savings.” He pulled out his wallet. Tossed three twenties on the table. “Here. Buy yourself something nice. Calm down.” Dylan nodded. “Mom, just drop it. Dad’s doing a good thing.” I looked at the money on the table. Sixty dollars. The same amount Marcus had given me eighteen years ago when Dylan was born and I hemorrhaged so badly I nearly died. The doctor had offered me an epidural. $1,200. Marcus said no. “We’re saving for Vivienne’s grad school applications.” I’d given birth without pain medication. Screaming. While my husband sat in the waiting room, texting another woman. I picked up the sixty dollars. “Keep it,” I said. “I’m done.”

I didn’t leave that night. I went upstairs. Locked myself in the guest room. And I cried. Not because I was sad. Because I was angry. Eighteen years. I’d given this man eighteen years. I’d been twenty when we got married. Brilliant. Top of my class. Full-ride scholarship to Yale. I was going to be a surgeon. Then I met Marcus. He was charming. Kind. He’d just enlisted. He promised me the world. “Marry me,” he’d said. “I’ll take care of you. You can still go to medical school. We’ll make it work.” I believed him. We got married. I deferred Yale for a year. Then I got pregnant. “Just one more year,” Marcus said. “Then you can go back.” But one year turned into two. Then five. Then eighteen. And now I was forty. No degree. No career. Nothing but a dead mother and a son who thought I was worthless. I sat there, staring at the ceiling, when I heard voices downstairs. Marcus and Dylan. “—can’t believe she’s making such a big deal out of this,” Dylan was saying. “Your mother’s always been dramatic.” “I mean, Vivienne’s amazing. She’s got a PhD. She’s published papers. She’s doing actual work in the world.” “Exactly. Unlike your mother.” I went cold. “I just don’t get why Mom’s so jealous,” Dylan continued. “It’s not like she could ever measure up to someone like Vivienne.” Marcus was quiet for a moment. Then: “You know your mother was supposed to go to Yale, right?” Silence. “What?” “Yale. Medical school. She had a full scholarship. Top student in her class.” My breath caught. “Wait, what? Mom? But she—” “She was brilliant,” Marcus said. His voice was almost… wistful. “Beautiful and brilliant. Everyone wanted her.” “So what happened?” Another pause. “I happened,” Marcus said. “I knew she’d leave me if she went to Yale. So I made sure she didn’t.” “How?” “Her acceptance letter came while she was visiting her sick grandmother in Oregon. I intercepted it. Told her she didn’t get in.” No—— How is that possible! “Then what?” “I gave it to Vivienne.” The room spun. “You what?” “Vivienne’s husband had just died. She was devastated. No education. No prospects. I felt bad for her.” Marcus’s voice was calm and rational. It was just a seemingly ordinary thing, but it changed my life. “Maya applied to Yale on her own—she’s smart enough to get in, no question. I got hold of her application draft, her test scores, all of it. Filed a new one under Vivienne’s name, used her ID, her SSN. Yale never knew the difference. They sent the acceptance letter straight to Vivienne.” “Holy shit. You faked her entire application?” “She’s fragile, you know? She couldn’t survive without this. But Maya—Maya’s strong. She didn’t need Yale’s fancy degree. She had me.” I couldn’t breathe. All this time. All this fucking time. “Vivienne doesn’t know, does she?” Dylan asked. “Of course not. She thinks she earned it.” “And you’ve been… supporting her? This whole time?” “Eighteen years,” Marcus confirmed. “Paid her tuition. Her rent. Everything.” “Does she know about Mom?” “She knows I’m married. She doesn’t care. We have an… understanding.” I waited for Dylan to defend me. To be horrified. Instead, he laughed. “Damn, Dad. That’s cold.” “Your mother would’ve wasted that scholarship anyway. She’s not like Vivienne. Vivienne actually uses her education.” “True. Mom’s just… I don’t know. A housewife.” “Exactly.” I stood up. Walked downstairs. Both of them looked up as I entered. “Maya—” Marcus started. “I’m filing for divorce,” I said. “And I’m reporting you for fraud.” Marcus’s face went white. “You can’t—” “Watch me.”

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260619cqmZfm7cCM 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni508434”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

Thanksgiving. My doctor husband told me for the umpteenth time that he’d been called in for emergency surgeries. He couldn’t come home with me to see my parents. But then I saw it on his assistant’s Instagram. There was Simon, at Jenny’s mom’s place, carving a massive turkey for her family’s neighborhood potluck. The caption read: *Mom says having a surgeon son-in-law is amazing. Look at how perfectly he carves the turkey.* I sneered. I liked the post. I left a comment: *Professional habits die hard.* My phone exploded. My colleagues were gossiping in every group chat, convinced I’d finally lose it on my husband. Simon’s call came through immediately. “It’s a big day for Jenny’s family. I’m just helping out. Why are you being so passive-aggressive?” “There’s no men in her household. They needed help with the potluck. I’m just lending a hand. What’s there to make a scene about?” “Delete that comment and unlike the post right now. Don’t make things difficult for Jenny at the hospital. You hear me?!” “When I get back, we’ll pick a date to visit your parents. Okay?” *When I get back.* *We’ll pick a date.* Simon only knew how to promise me the moon. I’d had enough. I was done waiting. After Thanksgiving, once the divorce papers were finalized, our seven-year marriage would be officially over. I didn’t give Simon any response. For the first time, I hung up on him. He lost it. My phone rang again. I declined the call and blocked his number—doing exactly what Simon always did to me when he was angry. I gave it all right back to him. Mom and Dad looked over, worried. “Paige, sweetie… you and Simon, are you two…” I met their questioning eyes and smiled. I took two bites of dinner like it was nothing. “We can’t make it work anymore. We’re getting divorced soon.” My mom sighed. She patted my dad, who was still frozen in shock, and forced a cheerful tone as she urged everyone to eat. My phone buzzed. Jenny had posted a long “apology” in the hospital work group chat: *Just kidding around with everyone! Thank you to Dr. Simon for being so understanding. If I’ve caused anyone any discomfort, please forgive me.* But the word “bragging” was written all over her face. Simon replied immediately: *Young people should have some energy. Nothing to apologize for. Anyone who’s bothered is just petty.* I wasn’t bothered. Getting rid of Simon? That was perfect. The moment the Director spoke, everyone knew which side to take. Replies flooded in: *The hospital is usually so dead. Jenny’s just sacrificing herself to liven things up. Thank god for her!* *Who knew the Director was so skilled with a scalpel AND a carving knife? Jenny’s so lucky!* *Hahaha, we all know there’s only ONE person at this hospital who’s that petty.* I scrolled through the endless insults. My chest tightened with a hollow ache. Half of these people—I’d trained them myself. They used to call me “Dr. Paige” with respect, hanging on my every word. Now I was just “that person.” All because Simon was the Hospital Director. Because Simon favored Jenny, she became the golden girl. Never mind that this hospital only existed because of my skills and my entire life savings. None of that could compete with Simon’s blatant favoritism. I laughed bitterly and turned off my phone. I steeled myself to enjoy this meal with my parents. But then Simon called my mom’s phone. She looked at me, helpless. I sighed. I answered. Before I could say a word, Simon’s emotionless voice came through: “Is Paige with you? Put her on. I need to talk to her.” For a split second, I regretted picking up. He’d called my mom’s phone to reach me, but he couldn’t even say “Mom.” My heart clenched. “What do you want?” Simon’s voice turned ice-cold when he heard me. “Jenny’s post-op patient is showing signs of infection. Get back to the hospital right now and do a second surgery.” His tone was commanding. Absolute. He ordered me around like a dog. Rage flared in my chest. The patient in question needed a complex cardiac septal bridge procedure. Even if I performed it, I couldn’t guarantee more than a fifty percent success rate. But Jenny, desperate to get promoted to Department Head, had shamelessly demanded I hand over the surgery to her. I knew her skills were nowhere near adequate. I refused outright. But Simon was obsessed with Jenny. Without a second thought, he transferred the patient to her. I argued. Simon said the “newcomer needed experience” and told me not to be so concerned with “personal gains and losses.” A human life. In Simon’s eyes, it was just a stepping stone for his mistress. Now that things had gone wrong, he wanted me to clean up Jenny’s mess. Did he really think I was that much of a sucker?

I refused immediately: “I can’t come back. Let whoever screwed up deal with it themselves. If you can’t stand watching, YOU do the surgery. After all, you’re her guarantor.” “I’m eating dinner with my parents. They made a huge spread because they thought you were coming. If we don’t finish it, it’ll go to waste. If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up.” I was about to end the call when Simon exploded: “TRY hanging up on me! Paige, have I been giving you too much leeway lately?!” His voice was so loud it hurt my eardrum. Even my mom, who was hard of hearing, flinched and turned to me with worry on her face. I forced down my anger. I walked outside with the phone pressed to my ear and hissed back: “What the hell are you yelling at me for?” Silence on the other end. Then Simon’s voice came through, just as furious: “I know you’re pissed because I bailed on you. But I promised I’d make time to visit your parents with you. What more do you want?!” “You’re doing Jenny’s surgery whether you like it or not. Otherwise, we’re done.” Perfect. I didn’t want to be with him anymore either. I was about to tell Simon we were getting divorced when I heard Jenny’s voice in the background: “Simon! The food’s ready. Mom’s calling you to eat.” I heard Simon cover the phone. His voice turned gentle—sickeningly so. “I’m just handling some hospital business. I’ll be right there. Tell Mom I’m coming.” I laughed. “Director Simon has a new mom now, huh? You’ve been on the phone with me this long—aren’t you worried about keeping your ‘mom’ waiting?” “Oh, right. After all… I’m the petty one.” Jenny must not have walked far. Simon hissed at me in a low, furious voice: “Jenny’s village is small and gossip spreads fast. I’m her boss. What’s wrong with helping her save face? Do you have to be so sarcastic?” “I’m telling you, Paige—you have three days to do that surgery. Otherwise, get the hell out of MY hospital!” He hung up. I stood outside my childhood home. The wind blew cold against my face, but inside, I felt hollow. I’d just decided I wouldn’t be anyone’s scapegoat ever again. Then my phone rang. It was the Chief of Medicine. Someone had filed a complaint. They claimed I’d performed surgery while intoxicated and caused a medical malpractice incident. He told me to get back immediately to deal with it. In that moment, I thought I was losing my mind. I could barely breathe. “Chief, you’ve got it wrong. That patient had congenital ventricular hypertrophy. He was already critical when he came in.” But the Chief sent me a copy of the complaint. My head was ringing. I didn’t even finish dinner. I rushed back to the hospital in a panic. The Chief looked at me with reproach. I demanded to confront my accuser. He didn’t respond. He just brought in a witness to testify against me. The witness was the anesthesiologist from that surgery. She was Jenny’s best friend. It all clicked.

Fury surged through me. “Chief, she’s one of Jenny’s people! Jenny and I have bad blood. This could easily be a setup!” I had no proof. My defense was weak and pathetic. A sharp, angry voice cut me off: “ENOUGH!” Simon stormed into the room. He looked at me with pure disgust. “What ‘bad blood’? You’re the one who hates her! Who’s been trying to sabotage her!” “Dr. Paige! I thought you were just petty, but at least professional in surgery. I never imagined you’d be this shameless!” “Do you have any idea how serious a false accusation like this is?! I never thought you’d gamble with a patient’s LIFE! Someone like you doesn’t deserve to be a doctor! You don’t deserve to be my wife!” I froze. My throat felt like a thousand needles had pierced it. After a long silence, I managed to speak: “Simon… in your heart, do you really think I’m the kind of person who would kill a patient out of jealousy?” Simon’s chest heaved. His eyes were dark and unreadable. “What else am I supposed to think?” “I saw the evidence. The fridge at home is full of empty beer bottles.” One sentence. It sealed everything. The Chief issued my termination letter on the spot. My colleagues spat insults at me. I gathered my belongings in a daze and headed for the door. But before I could leave, the patient’s family members burst in and kicked me to the ground. “You deserve to die! Why did you kill my son?! Who told you to drink?!” The woman kicked me over and over. She slapped me across the face. My vision blurred. Someone dragged her away. I crouched on the floor, picking up my scattered belongings. Then I heard Jenny’s voice behind me. “Dr. Paige, you got exactly what you deserved!” I turned around. Jenny stood there with that hateful face of hers, smirking like a victor. She feigned shock as she looked at the cardboard box in my hands. “Oh my! Did you cause a malpractice incident? Are you resigning to take responsibility?” She was the one behind all of this. And now she was playing innocent. I sneered. “Sorry to disappoint you. I just realized working with people like you is beneath me. So I quit.” Jenny’s smile widened. She raised her voice, pointing at me with a condescending air: “Dr. Paige, you’re a doctor who just caused a malpractice incident. You resigned. You ran away. But when the patient’s family comes back to cause trouble, it’s the HOSPITAL’S reputation that suffers.” “I think you should get on your knees and apologize to everyone here. Otherwise, why should WE have to deal with the consequences YOU caused?” She looked around, waiting for others to chime in. I felt nothing but bitter amusement. I turned to leave. But Jenny wasn’t done. She rushed forward to block me. I tried to step around her. In that split second, she threw herself to the ground. Simon’s voice rang out immediately: “Jenny! Are you okay?!”

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260619thkA66QZeh 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni530060”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

I am the only true witch in the world, able to commune with the dead and deliver their final messages. In my past life, Mrs. Ashford knelt at my doorstep, begging me to contact her late father-in-law and learn his true last will. Six months later, Grayson Ashford, the second son of the Ashford family, proposed to me with a wedding that made headlines across the country. He had defeated all other heirs to the family fortune, rising from his position as the overlooked younger son to take control of the Ashford billion-dollar empire. I thought he was grateful that I had helped change his fate. But when I performed another séance, he deliberately tampered with my ritual tools, trapping my soul forever in the realm of the dead. To prevent my coven from discovering what he’d done, he burned down the entire sanctuary where I practiced. “What sacred coven? I see nothing but a den of frauds.” “If you hadn’t interfered, Yasmine would have been the one to cross over that day.” “After being cast out from the Ashford family, her failed ritual drove her to madness and suicide. What right do you have to still be alive?” “Aren’t you supposed to be a true witch? Surely you can return safely even without your tools.” Only then did I realize—for the sake of his adopted sister Yasmine, my husband hated me this much. I lost my way in the underworld, and the death’s guardians beat my soul to oblivion with ninety-nine strikes. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Mrs. Ashford knelt before me. I immediately helped her to her feet, and under her expectant gaze, I said. “Your adopted daughter Yasmine is also a medium, isn’t she? I’m sure she can do this just as well.” “Those are just folk rituals. They can’t truly communicate with the dead.” Mrs. Ashford sighed deeply, her well-maintained face seeming to age ten years in an instant. Mr. Ashford Senior had died in an accident, leaving no time to create a will. The entire Ashford fortune was hidden in locations around the world, known only to the family head. In my past life, only through the will I’d retrieved had Grayson inherited the family’s true wealth. The agony of my soul’s destruction still felt fresh, making my entire body tremble. A Ferrari suddenly pulled up beside us, and Grayson angrily grabbed his mother’s arm. He glanced at me with deep disgust in his voice. “Mother, Yasmine is a medium too. Why must you beg an outsider?” I was somewhat surprised—this hadn’t happened in my previous life. Grayson had stayed at home His appearance here now meant he had also been reborn. I just hadn’t expected that after five years of marriage, I was nothing more than an outsider in his eyes. No wonder he had been so ruthless in destroying me to avenge Yasmine. Mrs. Ashford collapsed into his arms, weakly shaking her head. “Folk magic cannot compare to a true witch, not even close.” Yasmine quickly stepped out of the car, looking at me with challenge in her eyes. “Don’t worry, Mom. My mentor is a priestess, far more reliable than some witch.” “The eldest priestess herself praised my natural talent after only three years of training.” “For Grayson’s sake, I’ll risk my life to bring back Grandfather’s will.” I laughed coldly. Crossing to the realm of death requires proper authorization. Yasmine’s so-called training was nothing but illegal spiritual trespassing. Grayson’s gaze toward me grew even more contemptuous. “Rowan, how dare you let my mother kneel at your door!” “Once I inherit the Ashford fortune, I’ll make you pay back a thousand times over.” Mrs. Ashford frowned. “That was my own choice. You will not disrespect Miss Rowan.” Grayson sneered. “Mother, she’s just a liar. Why defend her?” He stepped forward and, without warning, slapped me hard across the face, his eyes cold as ice. “I’ll protect Yasmine throughout her entire ritual.” “Rowan, don’t ever dream of marrying into the Ashford family or getting your hands on money that doesn’t belong to you.” I froze. So in my past life, Grayson had suspected me of embezzling part of the inheritance. No wonder he used such cruel methods to scatter my soul. I closed my eyes, trying to forget those memories, when the jade talisman at my waist suddenly grew hot. My heart tightened as I looked toward the Ashford estate and glimpsed the psychopomps in the air above. The spirit guides were arriving—Mr. Ashford’s soul was about to dissipate completely! Remembering the burning sanctuary and my mentor’s tragic death in my previous life, I lowered my eyes, turned around, and closed the door, leaving the three of them outside. This lifetime, Grayson’s fate has nothing to do with me.

Just as the door was about to close, it was violently forced open. The next second, I was knocked to the ground by a group of large men who barged into my home. They ransacked my living room, throwing the ritual tools onto the floor. I struggled to get up and tried to retrieve my torn enchanted slippers, but was kicked in the chest and fell back, coughing up blood. Those slippers had been sewn by my mentor before she died. She said that no matter how far I traveled in the underworld, these shoes would always bring me back to the living world. They weren’t just magical tools—they were the only thing she’d left me. But now, they’d been torn to shreds and tossed disdainfully at my feet. A polished leather shoe stepped on my outstretched fingers, grinding them mercilessly. I glared at Grayson. “You called these men here!” “I already let Yasmine take the séance. What gives you the right to do this!” Yasmine clung to Grayson’s arm, giggling. “Grayson, you’re so clever. Without her tools, how can she keep up her fraudulent act?” Grayson looked down at me with contempt, pressing harder until I heard my bones crack. Then he scooped Yasmine up in his arms, keeping her pristine white heels away from my blood. “New outfit. Don’t let this trash stain it.” “Didn’t you look down on Yasmine? When she succeeds, you won’t even be worthy of licking her shoes!” I bit my lip hard, refusing to cry out in pain, though a smile tugged at my mouth. “Grayson, you’d better use this time to offer more incense at your grandfather’s altar.” “The spirit guides have arrived at death’s threshold.” “His soul will scatter completely soon.” The moment I finished speaking, Grayson kicked me viciously. His eyes were bloodshot as he waved at the thugs. “You bitch! How dare you curse Grandfather!” “All of you, teach this woman a lesson!” The next second, fists and feet rained down on me, battering me like a broken punching bag. But this physical pain was nothing compared to the ninety-nine strikes that had destroyed my soul! Thinking of the spirit guides growing more solid above the Ashford estate, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Yasmine’s crude black magic couldn’t dare show itself before the true guardians of death. Grayson, without that will, billions in assets are forever beyond your reach. I wanted to see how he’d still swagger around after inheriting nothing but an empty shell of a company! Seeing me stop struggling but bleeding more heavily, afraid they might actually kill me, the men backed away nervously. Grayson pointed at me, roaring, “Keep going!” “Rowan, aren’t you supposed to bridge life and death? Stop playing dead!” The next moment, I heard his agonized scream and an ice-cold voice. “Everyone stop right now!”

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260619VDIVJmVGAN 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni577573”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

My grandfather sat behind his oak desk. Two silver daggers gleamed between us. One for me. One for my sister Jessica. “One of you goes to the Werewolf Council and help me with pack politics.” Grandpa’s voice was gravel. “Be my heiress. The other deploys to the Northern Pack. Rogue territory. Fighting from the ground up.” Pack tradition. When fate couldn’t decide, we let the daggers choose. But I’d lived this before. I rebron. In my first life, I’d won. I’d taken the Council seat. Be an Alpha heiress. I’d married Alpha Carter. I thought I had everything. While my sister Jessica deployed. The memory hit like claws through flesh. Jessica’s broken body in that intelligence photo. Hands shattered. Tongue severed. Brutalized by Rogues because of bad intel. And the letter she’d sent Alpha Carter before she died. My husband, Alpha Carter, looked at me with those ice-blue eyes. Told me it was my fault. That my selfishness killed her. Then he made me pay. His contacts feeding me false coordinates. Sending me into a Rogue ambush. Two shattered femurs. Months of interrogation in darkness so complete I forgot what sunlight looked like. But that wasn’t enough. He used his father’s power to fabricate treason charges against my grandfather. Falsified reports. Planted evidence. My grandfather died of a stroke in a prison. Branded a traitor. “I want you to know what it feels like,” Carter whispered, standing over my hospital bed. My legs held together with silver pins and prayers. “To lose everyone you love.” Then he pulled out a blade. Ninety-nine stab wounds. The healer counted. I didn’t make it to one hundred. But somehow, impossibly, I woke up six months earlier. Standing in this same den. Staring at these same daggers. I reborn. And not this time. “Grandpa.” I dropped to one knee before he could finish. “Permission to speak.” His eyebrows rose. “Granted.” “I volunteer for deployment. Send me to the Northern Pack. Let Jessica take the Council position and be Alpha heiress.” Silence crashed through the room. Jessica’s mouth fell open. “June, what are you—” “I’ve made my decision.” I locked eyes with my grandfather. Read the confusion there. The concern. He knew I’d been obsessed with Carter since our first shift. Knew the betrothal was my idea. “I want to serve Pack. Earn my reputation.” Grandpa studied me. Then slowly nodded. “So be it.” Relief hit so hard I nearly collapsed. I’d saved her. Jessica would be safe at the Council while I fought Rogues. Carter couldn’t use her death against me. She wouldn’t die. I was standing when the door slammed open. Alpha Carter filled the doorway. He looked past me. “Jessica!” Three strides and he crushed my sister against his chest. His hands shook on her shoulders. “You’re alive. God, you’re alive.” What? “I thought—” His voice cracked. “They said you were dead. The mission failed and I thought—” Then he dropped to one knee before grandpa. “Grandpa, I’m asking—begging—you to release me from my betrothal to June.” The words tumbled out like confession. “I know our families arranged it. I know what it means. But I don’t love her. Never have. It’s always been Jessica.” Ice water flooded my veins. He’d been reborn too?! In his timeline, Jessica died on that mission. Now, finding her alive, he was making a different choice. The choice he’d wanted all along. I should have felt devastated. Heartbroken. “Carter—” I reached for his shoulder. He slapped my hand away. “Don’t touch me.” His lip curled. “Don’t you dare. You think I don’t know? You think I don’t remember? Everything you did. Everything you cost me—” His voice dropped to lethal quiet. “I loved her. And you took her from me!” In his timeline, he blamed me for Jessica’s death. Nothing would convince him otherwise. Grandpa’s voice cut through. “June has already volunteered for the Northern Pack. The betrothal is dissolved. You and Jessica are free to mate.” Carter’s head whipped toward me. Shock replaced rage. Then his arms tightened around Jessica. Triumph flickered across his face. “Finally,” he breathed into her hair. “Finally, I get to mate the woman I actually love!” Jessica’s eyes met mine over his shoulder. I saw it then. The small, satisfied smile. She’d known. Somehow she’d known exactly what this would do. But I was done. “Congratulations,” I said flatly. I walked out without looking back.

Three days later I was at the pack market. Getting Grandpa’s favorite coffee when I saw them. Carter and Jessica. Standing in the home goods section. Surrounded by shopping bags and new-mate bliss. I should have left. But Carter was holding up a mating dress. Couture. Thousands of marks. Jessica clung to his arm. Pointed at an expensive sound system. “Babe, I know we’re supposed to keep it low-key.” Her voice carried. “But it’s our mating ceremony. We can’t show up looking like Omegas, right?” In my first life, I’d begged Carter to go dress shopping. Begged him to help plan. To give a damn about our ceremony. He’d blown me off every time. Training exercises. Border patrols. A hundred excuses. I’d picked my dress alone. Paid for everything alone. Carried it all alone while he couldn’t be bothered. Now he grinned at Jessica like she hung the moon. Credit card already out. “Whatever you want, baby. You deserve everything.” The coffee suddenly weighed a thousand pounds. I turned to leave. Jessica’s eyes locked on mine. “June!” She waved. All sunshine. “Oh my God, what are you doing here?” She threaded her arm through Carter’s. Pulled him toward me. “We’re picking up things for the ceremony.” She chirped. “It’s in two days! You’re coming, right? You have to. You’re my sister.” Poison honey. “I’ll be busy,” I said carefully. “Prepping for deployment.” “You can spare a few hours.” Jessica’s smile sharpened. “Unless you want me to tell everyone how you feel about Carter. How pathetic that would look.” Carter’s jaw tightened. Said nothing. Jessica’s gaze dropped to my jacket pocket. Where the corner of our father’s locket was visible. My father’s locket. The only thing left after he died fighting Rogues. Old. Scratched. Worthless to anyone but me. Inside was a tiny photo. Me, Mom, and Dad. “Actually,” Jessica said, voice going syrupy. “We’re short on the sound system. June, that locket looks vintage. Why don’t you contribute it? As a gift for us mating?” My blood turned to ice. “No way.” “Come on, sis. It’s just a locket. You’re not even coming, so you owe us a present.” “It’s not for sale.” Carter stepped forward. Expression dark. “Jessica asked nicely, June.” “And I said no.” Jessica’s face crumpled. Tears springing instantly. “Oh my God. You’re doing this because you’re jealous. Because I’m mating Carter and you can’t stand it. Everyone in pack know you have a crush on Carter!” “That’s not—” “I just wanted one thing from my sister. And you can’t even do that? You’d rather hoard some old broken locket than support my happiness?” People stared. Carter’s hand shot out. Grabbed my wrist. “Give her the locket.” “No.” His boot caught my stomach. I went down hard. Air punching out. Coffee exploding across the floor. Before I could recover, Carter’s hand was in my pocket. Yanking out the locket. “Carter, don’t—” He tossed it to Jessica. She caught it with a smile that made my skin crawl. Popped it open. Pulled out the photograph. “Oh, how sweet,” she cooed. “A family photo.” Then she tore it in half. The ripping sound cut through me like silver. “Jessica! No!” I lunged. Carter shoved me down. She kept tearing. Until father’s face was confetti on the market floor. Something inside me snapped. I surged up and slapped her across the face. The crack echoed. Jessica stumbled back. Hand flying to her cheek. Eyes wide. Then her expression shifted. Calculating. When she spoke, her voice carried. “I was trying to take out the picture so it wouldn’t get damaged! June, you can’t give me a death photo as a mating gift! That’s sick! Are you trying to curse us?” Murmurs rippled through the crowd. “Trying to steal her sister’s mate…” “Death photos as gifts…” “Shameless…”

Then her expression shifted. Calculating. When she spoke, her voice carried. “I was trying to take out the picture so it wouldn’t get damaged! June, you can’t give me a death photo as a mating gift! That’s sick! Are you trying to curse us?” Murmurs rippled through the crowd. “Trying to steal her sister’s mate…” “Death photos as gifts…” “Shameless…” I knelt. Gathering torn pieces of my father’s face with shaking hands. Vision blurring. Carter stood over me. Voice cold. “Don’t think I’ll ever pity you again, June. You have no idea what I’m capable of.” I looked up at this man I’d loved for eight years. This man who’d murdered me in another life. “I know exactly what you’re capable of,” I said quietly. Then I stood. Brushed past them both. Walked out. Behind me, Jessica called sweetly, “See you at the ceremony, sis!” I didn’t look back. I went to the pack healer. Got my wounds cleaned. Started packing for the Northern Pack. I had a war to win. This time, I’d survive it. — I returned to the pack house just after sunset. Medical tape tight around my ribs where Carter’s boot connected. Grandpa was at the Carter’s Pack. Finalizing ceremony arrangements. The house was empty. Except it wasn’t. Jessica sat at the dining table. Picking at leftover venison. Looking like she hadn’t just destroyed the last piece of my father I had. “Hey,” she said brightly. “Dinner’s in the kitchen if you want some.” I stared. Then walked past toward my room. My door was open. I never left it open. Drawers pulled out. Clothes scattered. Papers everywhere. The locked box where I kept Mom’s things—her pack medallion, the diary she kept during pregnancy— The lock was broken. The box was empty. “No.” The word strangled out. I tore through the room. Throwing clothes aside. Checking under the bed. In the closet. Anywhere she might have hidden it. “No, no, no—” I found Jessica in the kitchen. Humming. I grabbed her collar. Slammed her against the wall hard enough to rattle frames. “Where is it?” My voice didn’t sound like mine. “Where’s my mother’s diary?” Jessica’s eyes were bright. Almost giddy. “Oh, that old thing?” “WHERE IS IT?” She smiled. “I burned it. In the stove. About an hour ago.” Her head tilted toward the wood-burning stove. “Your mom made great kindling. Really got the logs going.” The world tilted. I was on her before I knew it. Fist connecting once, twice, three times. Her blood tasted like copper and rage. My hands found her throat— “Why?” I was screaming. Shaking her. “I gave you everything! The Council job! Carter! What more do you want?!” Jessica shoved me off. Gasping. When she looked up, her expression was transcendent with hate. “You want to know why?” She laughed. Broken and raw. “Because I’ve been reborn too, you stupid bitch. And in my first life, I was the one at the Northern Pack. I was the one captured. Do you have any idea what they did to me, June?” Ice flooded my veins. “They broke my hands. Shattered every bone. Used silver on me until I couldn’t shift. Raped me until I forgot what it felt like to be whole.” Tears streamed down her face. Voice steady. “And I was there for six months before they killed me. Six. Months.” “Jessica—” “You did this to me!” She screamed. “You and Grandfather rigged that dagger throw! You wanted the safety. So you made sure I’d be sent to hell!” “That’s not true! The throw was random—” “LIAR!” She lunged. Grabbed my hand. Slapped herself with it. Hard. Before I could process, something massive hit me from behind. I went down face-first. Skull cracking against hardwood. Stars exploded. A boot crushed into my spine— Then a chair smashed across my shoulders. Pain erupted everywhere. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see. Could only hear Carter’s voice roaring above me. When my vision cleared, he was kneeling beside Jessica. Cradling her face. Checking her injuries with tenderness he’d never shown me. In his other hand, he held a broken plate shard. Edge sharp enough to cut. He pressed it against my throat.

“Carter, no—” Jessica grabbed his wrist. Not to stop him. To slow him. “Not yet. Not here.” The pressure eased. But the hatred in his eyes didn’t. “Touch her again,” he said quietly, “and I won’t hesitate to kill you. Not again.” Again. He remembered killing me. And he’d do it again without losing sleep. They left me bleeding on the kitchen floor. I lay there. Staring at the stove. At gray ashes visible through the grate. Somewhere in that dust was my mother’s handwriting. Her thoughts. Her love. Gone. When I could move, I crawled to the stove. Opened it with shaking hands. Sifted through ashes. Nothing left. Just carbon and grief. I didn’t wait for Grandpa. I packed my gear. Wrote him a note. Left for the Northern Pack with ribs screaming and blood crusted in my hair. I couldn’t stay another second. And I had an Omega to find. — The Northern Pack was exactly as miserable as I remembered. I arrived two weeks early. Skeleton crew. The guard at the gate checked my orders. Gave me a long look at my bandaged head. Directed me toward the healer’s tent. I made it halfway before my vision grayed out. I collapsed. When I woke, I was on a bed. And someone enormous sat beside me. Not tall. Enormous. Three hundred pounds maybe. Packed onto a six-foot frame. His gear stretched tight across chest and belly. His face was round. Boyish. Dark eyes watching me with cautious intelligence. “You’re awake,” he said. Voice surprisingly soft. “You’ve been out six hours. Healer says concussion and two cracked ribs. Maybe internal bleeding. But they won’t know until they get you to a real facility.” I sat up too fast. Immediately regretted it. “I’m fine.” “You’re definitely not fine.” He held out a canteen. “Drink. You’re dehydrated.” I took it. Studying him. “Who are you?” “Shane.” He smiled slightly. “I work the kitchens. They asked me to sit with you since medical’s short-staffed.” Shane. Shane, who in my first life had been mocked as “the fat Omega” until he quietly disappeared three months before the northern pack was overrun. But Jessica had mentioned him once. With unusual venom. Called him a “useless waste”. “Shane,” I said slowly. “What’s your last name?” His expression shuttered. “Why?” “Because I had a vision about you.” That got his attention. Eyes narrowed. “What kind of vision?” So I told him. Not everything. But enough. The attack coming in six weeks. The one that would slaughter half the pack if we weren’t prepared. I knew things I shouldn’t. I’d lived this before. And I knew his bloating was from an elixir. That because his father wanted to keep him safe after a combat injury. That he was wasting away when he should be fighting. Shane stood abruptly. “I need to report this.” “Wait—” “You’re either a spy or mentally ill. Either way, you need to be detained—” I rolled off the bed. Grabbed his arm. “My name is June Reeves. Three generations of pack leaders. My father was Alpha James. KIA fighting Rogues. Posthumously awarded the Silver Fang. My mother was Luna Sarah. Field healer. Died in a training accident when I was twelve.” I pulled out my pack medallion. Threw it at him. “I trained as a combat healer before leadership academy. I know the elixir you’re on. A kind of dote. Probably for spine damage. It’s causing fluid retention and metabolic changes. I can help you manage it. Get you back to active duty.” Shane caught the medallion. Staring. Then at me. “Why would you help me?” Because I wanted to survive. And I wanted revenge.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260619RrGfwrOH6T 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni210777”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

Our family only had enough money to send one person to college. Ma and Pa made us flip a coin to decide. Before the coin even landed, I tore up my acceptance letter. “Ma, Pa—I’ll stay home. Let Caleb go to college.” Because in my last life, I won that coin toss and made it to university. There, I ran into Sarah—the girl next door from when we were kids. We fell in love. Got married. Had a baby. But back home, Caleb lasted less than three years before he was accused of sleeping with Mrs. Higgins, the Mayor’s wife. Unable to bear the rumors, Caleb downed a bottle of poison. Before he died, he wrote Sarah a letter. He said I’d rigged the coin flip. That I’d destroyed his life. After that, Sarah’s attitude toward me changed completely. That’s when I realized—they’d been having an affair all along. On our tenth wedding anniversary, she poisoned my dinner and dragged me to Caleb’s grave. “I was supposed to meet Caleb! You destroyed him! You destroyed me!” “Why weren’t you the one accused? Why weren’t you the one who died?” She forced me to kneel and beg forgiveness at his headstone. She spread rumors that I was an abuser, a cheater—ruined my reputation—then poured poison down my throat. “Every sin you made Caleb suffer, I’m making you suffer twice over!” I thought of our child—not even three years old yet—and begged her to spare me for the sake of our marriage. But she just watched me convulse, watched me suffocate, until there was nothing left. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the coin flip. This time, I gave up college. And I gave up Sarah. — “Ma, Pa—I’ll stay home. Let Caleb go to college.” Ma, Pa, and Caleb all stared at me in shock. “Are you serious? You know how hard you worked for this. You’re just gonna throw it away?” I took a deep breath. “Yeah. I’m serious. Let Caleb go.” They stared at me for a long moment, then sighed and accepted my decision. I climbed down from the bunk bed. Suddenly, we heard Mrs. Dixon’s voice from outside. “Hey! Someone from out of town’s here looking for you!” Before Pa could even get up, the door burst open. A girl rushed in, her eyes locked on Caleb like he was the only person in the room. She threw herself into his arms. It was Sarah. Her voice was choked with emotion, like she was holding onto something she’d lost once before. “I made it. I made it in time.” She turned to my stunned parents, her voice urgent. “Mr. and Mrs. Harper—I’m here to keep my promise. I’m here to marry Caleb.” Ma and Pa blinked in confusion, then squinted at her, trying to place her face. “You’re… Old man Westbrook’s daughter? My God, look how grown up you are!” Sarah grabbed Caleb’s hand and nodded. “I’ve loved Caleb since we were kids. Please let me be with him.” Before Ma and Pa could respond, Sarah snapped her fingers. A crew of people started hauling boxes and bags into the house. “This is my dowry. Once Caleb and I are married, we’ll move to the city together. He’ll go to college, and I’ll take care of everything.” I stood frozen, watching it all unfold. Sarah had been reborn too. I lowered my eyes, hiding my shock. “Sarah—” Before I could finish, she whipped around and glared at me with pure hatred. “Don’t even think about it, Ethan. I’d rather marry a homeless man—a criminal—than ever be with you.” “I’m watching you. You won’t pull any tricks this time.” Ma cleared her throat, confused. “Ethan already gave up his spot. He tore up his acceptance letter.” Sarah froze. Disbelief flashed across her face. “What kind of scheme are you running now?” Pa pointed to the shredded paper on the floor. “He’s not lying. Look—he tore the damn thing to pieces.” Sarah followed his gesture and saw the torn letter scattered on the ground. For a moment, she looked genuinely shocked. But she recovered quickly, muttering under her breath: “Fine. At least you’ve got some conscience left.” Then she turned back to Caleb, clinging to his arm and cooing sweetly: “I’m so happy, Caleb. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” Hearing that soft, affectionate voice made my hands tremble. In my past life, Sarah only ever used that tone with me. Every time she did, I felt like I’d die for her if she asked. “Caleb, baby, come help me pick out stuff for the wedding!” Without waiting for an answer, Sarah dragged Caleb toward the door. As she passed me, she paused, gave me an unreadable look, then left. After they were gone, Ma and Pa sighed and said they were heading out to work. I stopped them. “Ma, Pa—I’m thinking of leaving. Going out of state to find work. It’ll help ease the burden on you.” This meant I’d be gone for a long time. We wouldn’t see each other much. Pa took a drag from his hand-rolled cigarette and sighed. “If that’s what you want, go ahead. We’re too old to tell you boys what to do anymore.” They left without another word. No sadness. No goodbyes. That’s how they’d always been. They didn’t do emotions. But I knew the truth. Between me and Caleb, they’d always favored me. In my last life, they knew how badly I wanted to go to college. So they rigged the coin flip to make sure I won.

Before it got dark, I headed into town to pick up some supplies for the trip. That’s when I ran into Sarah and Caleb. They were shopping for wedding decorations. In my past life, Sarah and I got married in the city. Because it was a once-in-a-lifetime event, I saved up and bought the most expensive ring and make her a custom wedding dress. But when I showed it to her, she wrinkled her nose in disgust. “What century are we in? You seriously expect me to wear this old-fashioned crap?” “My dad just got reinstated as a judge. There are going to be important people at our wedding. You think I’m gonna let them see me in this?” But now—now—I watched her gush over cheap polyester ribbon like it was spun gold. She looked so damn happy. My chest ached like I’d chugged a gallon of vinegar. The sight of them together—smiling, touching—felt like needles in my eyes. I turned to leave. “Ethan! Wait up!” Caleb called out to me. He had his arm around Sarah’s waist as they walked over, grinning like he’d won the lottery. “You shopping too? Hey, listen—Sarah and I set a date. Three days from now. You better be there.” “I’m leaving for work soon. I might not make it—” “What are you talking about? You’re my brother. You have to come.” Caleb clapped me on the shoulder, half-joking: “If you don’t show up, I’m slaughtering Buster and serving him at the reception.” My eyes went wide. Buster was our old dog—ancient, loyal. He’d been with our family for over a decade. Ma and Pa always said Buster worked his whole life for us. Killing him would be cruel. He deserved to retire in peace. Buster and I were close. When he got sick, he’d only eat if I was the one feeding him. I used to come home from school and see him waiting for me at the edge of the property, every single day. I’d loved that dog like family. I forced myself to nod. “Fine. I’ll be there.” I didn’t want to stay another second. I turned to leave. But Caleb blocked my path, grinning. “Hey, Ethan—Ma and Pa always liked you more. They even gave you the token from Sarah’s family—the one from when we were kids, you know, the ‘engagement’ thing.” “Now that Sarah and I are getting married… I’m gonna need that back.” I froze. I’d worn it for years. It felt wrong to give it up. I opened my mouth to say something, but Caleb cut me off: “You’re not gonna say no, are you?” His voice dropped, taking on an edge. “Are you jealous? Is that it? Because Sarah’s marrying me instead of you?” “You’re my brother. I’ve always given you everything you wanted. But Sarah’s different.” “We’re in love. She’s all I have…” Sarah’s expression went ice-cold. She lunged forward and ripped off my necklace. The cord snapped. Pain shot through my throat. I gasped, and when I touched the back of my neck, my hand came away slick with blood. “I knew it. You’re pathetic. You’d even try to keep a stupid charm?” I looked up at her, my voice shaking. “I’m not being greedy. Sarah’s dad wrote me a letter once. He gave this to me—” The memory of my father-in-law—the only one who treated me like a son—made my throat tighten. In my last life, after Sarah killed me, he was the only one who kept digging into my death. When he found out the truth, he disowned her. This life, I’d never see him again. “Stop lying! You think I don’t know what kind of person you are?!” My throat burned. I tried to explain, but the words died in my mouth. What was the point? She’d never believe me. Sarah held out the necklace, her voice hard and commanding. “Apologize to Caleb. Then put it on him yourself.” I took a shaky breath, my voice barely audible. “You want me to apologize?” “Yes. Consider it your chance to atone.” I closed my eyes. Swallowed the tears. “Fine. I’m sorry.” “Caleb… this is my fault.” I bowed deeply. Caleb’s eyes glinted with satisfaction. When I straightened, he put on a fake sympathetic face and pulled me upright. “Sarah’s just protective of me, man. She didn’t mean it. Don’t take it personally.” “You’re my brother. I’m not actually mad at you.” He turned his back to me, waiting for me to fasten necklace around his neck. I reached up and started tying it. But before I could finish, Caleb suddenly lurched forward. His face went red. His voice came out strangled: “Ethan—let go—I can’t breathe—” I immediately released the cord. Before I could check if he was okay, Sarah slapped me so hard I hit the ground. Caleb clutched his throat, his eyes wide with shock, his voice hoarse: “Ethan… I’m your brother. You’d really try to strangle me over a girl?” “Fine. Fine. I won’t marry her. I won’t go to college. I’ll give you everything—just don’t kill me.” His voice was loud. People started gathering, whispering. “Did you see that? He tried to kill his own brother!” “Probably jealous. His brother’s smart, good-looking, about to marry a rich girl…” “Keeping a stupid necklace for himself—what kind of person does that? He should be ashamed.” I ignored the crowd, ignored Caleb’s smug expression. I just bent down and picked the necklace out of the dirt. Sarah walked over and stepped on my hand, grinding her heel into my fingers. Pain shot up my arm. She leaned down, her breath warm against my ear, her voice soft and venomous: “Don’t try anything clever, Ethan. I hate you. Even if Caleb didn’t exist, I’d never choose you.” “And if you want to taste poison again… keep pushing me.”

Sarah pulled Caleb away, leaving me kneeling in the dirt. I lifted my mangled hand and carefully wiped the mud off the necklace. The pain in my hand was nothing compared to the pain in my chest. I slipped the necklace into my pocket and whispered: “I’m sorry, Mr. Westbrook. I’m breaking my promise.” When I got home, Ma and Pa were already asleep. Only Caleb was still up, sitting at the table. He smiled at me. “You’re back late. Come on, I saved you some dinner.” He pushed a pot of stew toward me. The smell of meat hit my nose, but dread twisted in my gut. I looked at Caleb’s face—that barely-hidden smirk—and my chopsticks clattered to the floor. I stood up and bolted toward the barn. “Don’t bother,” Caleb called after me. “That is Buster.” He pushed the pot closer. “Poor old guy was too tough to chew. I couldn’t finish it. You should eat up, though.” His voice echoed in my ears. The smell of meat made my stomach lurch. I doubled over and vomited until there was nothing left. Caleb watched me, satisfied. “I know you’re leaving for the city soon. No one’ll be around to take care of an old dog. Figured we might as well put him to use. Give you a good send-off. Thought I’d do something nice for you, you know?” I clenched my fists, my eyes burning red, my voice raw: “Why? I gave you the college fund. I gave you everything. Why are you doing this to me?” “We’re brothers!” Caleb’s smile vanished. His face went cold. “Hah. You’ve got some nerve asking me that. You think I don’t know? Ma and Pa rigged the coin flip. Both sides said ‘stay home.’” “You know what I went through? Mrs. Higgins tried to sleep with me. When I said no, she told everyone I raped her.” “The Mayor and his guys beat me so bad they broke my spine. I couldn’t walk. Couldn’t control my bladder. I was a cripple.” “You know what it’s like to lie in bed and watch your legs rot? To get bedsores so deep you can see bone? Maggots crawling in the wounds?” “But you? You got a career. A government job. A Senator’s daughter for a wife. All of that should’ve been mine.” His voice dropped to a hiss. “So this time, you’re going to suffer everything I did. Watching you in pain is the only thing that’ll make me feel better.” I stood there, stunned. I’d loved this kid his whole life. And he hated me this much. “You were reborn too. You know I didn’t know about the coin flip.” “I didn’t know what would happen to you. If I had, I would’ve given you the spot.” “Caleb—just tell me. What did you say in that letter? The one you sent Sarah before you died?” Caleb smirked. “Oh, you wanna know?” He stepped closer, leaning in like he was about to tell me a secret. “I told her—” Suddenly, he threw himself forward—right into the pot of scalding stew. The hot liquid splashed all over his arm. He screamed. Before I could react, someone rushed in and smashed a shovel into the back of my skull. Once. Twice. Three times. My vision blurred. My head throbbed. Warm blood poured down my face, turning everything red. I couldn’t hear what Sarah was yelling at me. I just saw her scoop cold water from the bucket and pour it over Caleb’s burned arm. The world went quiet. Then I felt it—a rope tightening around my neck. The air disappeared. My face turned purple. I kicked weakly, my body too weak to fight. My vision went dark. I let my hands drop. Maybe it’d be better to just die here. But then Caleb grabbed Sarah’s arm and pulled her off me. Air rushed back into my lungs. I gasped, desperate, greedy. Sarah’s voice was ice-cold in my ear. “I warned you. I killed you once. I can kill you again. And again.” “I was going to let you live. But now?” She grabbed my hair and slammed my face into the floor in front of Caleb.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260619Lqfsl4tTpp 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni173373”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

After Mom died, Dad couldn’t look at anyone else. He spent his days with Aurelius instead—the Sacred Spirit Wolf, our pack’s guardian sent by the Moon Goddess herself. I thought if I took Aurelius away for a while, Dad might finally move on. So I brought the magnificent golden wolf with me to Seattle for three years of graduate school. When I finally heard Dad had found someone new, I was thrilled. Monica, he said. A sweet omega from one of the smaller packs. She looked a bit like Mom, apparently. I booked the first flight home. The whole pack was gathering at the estate tonight—Dad wanted to introduce Monica to everyone, make it official. I couldn’t wait to meet her. I should have known better. The second I stepped through the door of our old manor with Aurelius at my side, they were waiting. Monica and three of her friends, blocking the entrance like a wall of perfume and barely concealed hostility. I recognized Monica from the photo Dad sent. She did look like Mom—same honey-blonde hair, same delicate features. But where Mom’s eyes had been warm, Monica’s were cold calculation. “Well, well.” Her voice dripped with false sweetness. “The little homewrecker finally shows her face.” I blinked. “I’m sorry, what?” The slap came out of nowhere. My head snapped to the side, cheek exploding in pain. Before I could even process what happened, her foot connected with my stomach. I doubled over, gasping. Aurelius growled low beside me, but I held up a hand. Not yet. “Monica, I think there’s been a misunderstanding—” She grabbed my hair, yanking my head back. “Oh, you think? You think you can seduce my mate and play innocent?” Her nails dug into my scalp as she shook me violently. “Silas is MINE. The whole pack is gathering tonight to meet me—his future Luna. His parents are here, the Council, everyone. And you thought you could just waltz in and steal him?” She slapped me again. And again. Blood filled my mouth. I tried to speak, to explain, but one of her friends stuffed something in my mouth—a sock, rank and disgusting. “Shut up, you little slut.” The redhead sneered. “You think because you’re young and pretty you can steal someone’s mate? Silas loved Monica so much he gave up everything for her. Even stopped visiting this musty old manor.” Monica’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “He only noticed you because you look a bit like me. Don’t feel special, honey. Girls like you? We deal with dozens every year. Silas never cares.” I couldn’t breathe through the gag, couldn’t explain. The panic was setting in. Then I smelled it. Lighter fluid. Monica pulled out a silver lighter, her smile turning deadly. “Let’s see how pretty you are when I’m done with you.”

The flame caught on my shirt instantly. I screamed against the gag as fire raced across my chest, crawling up toward my throat. The heat was unbearable—like my skin was melting off my bones. They held me down as I thrashed, laughing as the flames spread to my hair. “Burn, bitch!” Monica’s voice rang with glee. “Burn!” I couldn’t shift. The smoke, the pain, the shock—my wolf was paralyzed with terror. Then Aurelius moved. The massive golden wolf launched himself from across the room, his sacred aura blazing like sunlight. He landed on top of me, smothering the flames with his thick fur. One powerful swipe of his tail sent two of the women flying into the wall. Their screams filled the manor. “A WOLF!” “WHERE DID IT COME FROM?!” They scattered like frightened mice, tripping over each other in their panic. Aurelius gently nosed the gag from my mouth, his ancient amber eyes filled with concern. Before I could thank him, I saw Monica grab something from the mantle. A crystal decanter. “NO!” I threw myself over Aurelius. The decanter shattered against my skull. Pain exploded through my head, warm blood trickling down my face. Aurelius went very still beneath me. Then he smelled my blood. His eyes flashed gold—not the warm amber I knew, but molten fury. The temperature in the room plummeted as his power filled the space, heavy and ancient and utterly terrifying. Even Monica backed up, fear finally cracking her composure. “You think I’m scared of some mangy wolf?” Her voice shook. But Aurelius wasn’t just any wolf. He was the Moon Goddess’s chosen guardian, blessed with her divine power. He’d saved our pack from the Silver Fire thirty years ago. Predicted the rogue attack that would have wiped us out. Led Dad to the silver mine that made us the wealthiest pack in the Northwest. And right now, he was pissed.

Aurelius stalked toward Monica, each step deliberate and predatory. She stumbled backward, her friends huddling behind her. “Monica, maybe we should go,” one of them whimpered. “You’re supposed to meet Silas’s parents soon anyway. Make a good impression.” “Yeah, and I heard his daughter Elena is coming home from Seattle. They say she adores you, wants to call you Mom at the ceremony.” That made Monica pause, her expression softening into something smug. “You’re right. After tonight, I’ll officially be Luna of the Silver Moon Pack.” She shot me one last venomous look. “You got lucky, homewrecker. But stay away from MY mate.” They turned to leave. Aurelius blocked the door. One flick of his massive tail and it slammed shut, the lock clicking into place. Monica’s face went white. “It—it closed the door. Wolves can’t—” “It’s not natural,” the redhead whispered. Aurelius began to circle them, taking his time. He wasn’t going to hurt them—I knew him well enough. He was just making a point, scaring them a little for what they’d done to me. But then the brunette pulled something from her purse. A small vial filled with silver-white liquid. My blood turned to ice. “No—” She threw it. The liquid hit Aurelius square in the chest. Where it touched, his golden fur turned black, smoking and sizzling like acid on metal. He howled—a sound of pure agony that made my heart shatter. “IT’S WOLFSBANE!” Monica’s voice turned triumphant. “Mixed with silver nitrate! The wolf’s afraid!” Aurelius collapsed, convulsing as the poison spread through his system. His sacred aura flickered and died, leaving him vulnerable and in pain. “Stupid mutt.” Monica advanced, pulling out another vial. “You thought you could protect this whore? I’ll dissolve you.” “DON’T TOUCH HIM!” I finally ripped the gag free, stumbling forward. “Monica, I swear to the Goddess, if you hurt him—” “You’ll what?” She grabbed my hair, slamming my head into the floor. Once. Twice. Three times. Stars exploded across my vision. Blood poured from my nose. “You’re in no position to threaten anyone.” She kicked me in the ribs. “Now tell me—how did Silas afford to buy you this fancy manor? Does he know you’re just using him for his money?” “I’m not—” I spat blood. “I’m his daughter. I’m Elena!” Monica froze for half a second. Then she laughed and stomped on my face. “Nice try, sweetheart. But Elena’s been in Seattle for three years. Why would she come back now?” She pulled out the silver nitrate. “I’m done playing. First the wolf, then you.” Aurelius, even poisoned and dying, tried to protect me one last time. He lunged at Monica’s leg, sinking his teeth into her calf. She screamed. “YOU FUCKING MUTT!” She poured the entire vial over his head. His howl of agony would haunt me forever. The other women joined in, grabbing whatever they could find—vases, fireplace pokers, decorative stones—and beating him while he writhed on the floor. “STOP!” I sobbed. “PLEASE, STOP!” They didn’t stop until he went still. Silent. Dead. Monica turned to me, her smile grotesque. “Your turn.”

The silver nitrate hit my face like liquid fire. I screamed until my throat bled as my skin bubbled and burned, the poison eating through flesh and nerve endings. Red turned to black, black turned to nothing. No feeling. No sensation. I couldn’t even cry—the acid had melted my tear ducts shut. Monica circled me like a predator admiring her kill, phone out, taking photos from different angles. “Perfect,” she murmured. “This’ll remind the next little bitch what happens when you try to steal someone’s mate.” Her phone rang. The ringtone made my stomach drop—Dad’s special one. Her entire demeanor shifted. Voice going soft and sweet. “Hi, baby!” “Where are you?” Even through the speaker, I could hear the warmth in Dad’s voice. The trust. “The pack’s getting restless. Alpha Gregor keeps asking about you.” “I’m so sorry!” She bit her lip, playing the flustered girlfriend perfectly. “I wanted to make something special for tonight. You said Alpha Gregor loves wild game, right? I’ve been preparing this traditional feast—I want him to love me as much as you do.” I could practically hear Dad melting. “That’s so thoughtful, sweetheart. But don’t stress yourself out. Just get here when you can.” “I’ll be there soon. Love you!” She hung up and turned to her friends, the sweet mask dropping instantly. “Where’s the venison you were supposed to get?” The redhead winced. “Monica, I tried, but the hunting grounds are restricted this time of year. Pack rules. If I got caught—” Monica slapped her so hard the crack echoed. “Idiot! Tonight’s the biggest night of my life! Every pack leader in the state is here! How am I supposed to impress them without proper game?” “I told you I needed that meat for the ritual feast!” Ritual feast. That’s what she was planning—the traditional offering a new Luna makes to prove her worth to the pack. A display of strength, skill, and devotion. With wild game she didn’t have. The brunette, seeing an opportunity to get back in Monica’s good graces, pointed at Aurelius’s still form. “What about… that?” Monica followed her gaze. I watched understanding dawn on her face, watched that cruel smile spread. “You’re right.” She grabbed Aurelius by the scruff. “Fresh meat is fresh meat. And wolf is supposed to be a delicacy, isn’t it?” I tried to scream. Tried to move. But my body wouldn’t respond, the silver still coursing through my system. She dragged him toward the kitchen, and I could only watch in helpless horror. The next thirty minutes were torture. The sounds of butchering. The smell of sacred flesh being seared and seasoned. The laughter as Monica and her friends joked about the “exotic game” they were preparing. When she finally emerged, she was carrying an enormous silver platter. Steam rose from the carefully arranged meat, garnished with herbs and vegetables like this was some fancy restaurant dish and not the desecrated body of the Moon Goddess’s chosen guardian. “Gorgeous,” one of her friends breathed. “Girl, you’re going to blow their minds.” Monica beamed. “I know. Alpha Gregor’s going to beg Silas to make me Luna after tasting this.” She glanced at me, taking in my ruined face and broken body. “What should we do with her?” The redhead kicked me lightly. “Kill her? She saw everything.” “No.” Monica’s smile turned wicked. “Bring her. I want her to watch me become Luna. Want her to see exactly who owns Silas now.” They shoved me in a tarp and dragged me to the trunk.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260619926pjJ51DQ 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni215105”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix