I'd been dating Harrison Cole, the son of a Briarport hotel magnate, online for 6 months. I never accepted his money or gifts. Sometimes, I even bought him coffee.   Plenty of people around him were after the status his name carried and his family's money. So Harrison assumed I was madly in love with him.   Then one day, I saw screenshots of a conversation between him and a friend.   Harrison's Friend: Harrison, this is my fault. I gave you the wrong number. What do we do now?   Harrison: Don't tell her yet. I've already got her roommate's number. I'll decide which one I want once I've thought it through.   Harrison's Friend: What's there to choose? She's crazy about you. Date the other girl first, then go back to her. She'll still be waiting.   So that was why he'd been so distant lately. I let out a long sigh of relief. The timing was perfect. I didn't want to keep this going either, so I broke up with him without hesitation.

Everyone at the company thought Lydia Fenn was our CEO's girlfriend. Even the hotel manager called her "the future Mrs. Grant." Alexander Grant never corrected anyone. Meanwhile, I—his actual fiancée—was constantly reminded: "Mind your boundaries during work hours." So after seven years together and two years engaged, my ring stayed hidden under my clothes. Until the day he asked me to plan Lydia's birthday dinner. The venue was White Elm Estate, the very place where our wedding had never happened. "She brings in clients. Your job could be done by any other assistant." I gave him back the ring. Then I called Matthew, "I'll be there for Monday's handover, on time. I'll personally attend the renewal meeting between White Elm Estate and Grant Group."

My boyfriend, Liam Vance, had just landed a record-breaking broadcasting deal. That night, the host asked him who he wanted to thank most. Without missing a beat, he put his arm around Caroline Bennett, the vice president. "Her, of course. She's my rock." The host teased, "Sounds like wedding bells are in the air." They exchanged a smile but didn't answer. Once the cameras moved away, he slipped a key card into my hand. "Reporters are everywhere outside. Leave through the back door." I tossed the key card into his wine glass and left through the front door. Then I called my assistant. "Tell my father I'll take the CEO job. But Liam Vance's company—I'm going to inspect it personally."

I was an actress so far down the cast list that nobody knew my name.   I was also the kept woman of Everett Prescott, the hardest man to please in Briarhaven, and a substitute for the woman he really wanted.   In my last life, Vanessa Langley had returned from abroad. Terrified I'd be thrown out, I stormed into the Prescott residence with a pregnancy test report, convinced a baby would finally make him spare me a glance.   Everett had announced in front of everyone that the child wasn't his.   Later, without his protection, I was tricked into boarding a yacht. The wind over the sea was fierce that night. As seawater flooded my nose, I discovered that a single thought really could be the last thing you hold onto.   'If only I'd never fallen in love.'   When I opened my eyes again, I was sitting across from Everett with a ring box clenched in my hand.   It was the day I'd tried to pressure him into marrying me, the day he'd first decided I was becoming a nuisance.   "Mr. Prescott, when are we going to...?"   The word "marry" caught on my tongue. I forced the question in a different direction.   "Uh, I mean, when are we going to break up?"

While my daughter was still trapped inside a burning building, her father climbed into an ambulance holding someone else's child. A firefighter carried her out through the smoke. Her face was covered in soot, and she held her right arm stiffly against her chest, too afraid to move it. The moment my daughter saw me, the first thing she asked was, "Mommy, did Daddy go back in to find me?" I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. Just a few minutes earlier, I'd grabbed Lance Stanley by the sleeve and told him Tess Stanley still hadn't come out. He'd told me the firefighters were already inside. "Ollie can't breathe. I need to go with him to the hospital. Stay here, and call me the second you hear anything." Then he peeled my hand off his arm.

Everyone at the company thought Charlotte Wells was dating our CEO, Nathan Reed. Even the hotel manager called her the future Mrs. Reed. Nathan never corrected anyone. Meanwhile, he kept reminding me, Evelyn Grant, his actual fiancée, "Evelyn, we're at work. Keep it professional." We had been together for eight years and engaged for two, yet I still wore my ring hidden beneath my clothes. Then one day, he asked me to plan Charlotte's birthday dinner. At the Whitecliff Estate where our own wedding had been postponed again and again. I gave him back my ring.

My parents brought me, who had been lost outside, back home, only to make me marry into another family in my sister’s place. Unexpectedly, I was set up, and I accidentally had an affair with Caleb Hart. For the sake of the family’s reputation, I had no choice but to marry Caleb Hart, the man who loved my sister. My sister Vivian, on the other hand, was sent to marry into the Ashford family and take care of that seriously ill old master who had not shown himself for years. On the day of the wedding, Vivian, unable to bear the humiliation, eloped with another man. From then on, Caleb hated me to the bone. Over decades of marriage, I was neglected, humiliated, and ignored. No matter how much I explained that I was also a victim, it was of no use.   When I finally breathed my last, worn down by years of misery, all he did was send someone to deliver a message—"Mara, get the hell away from me in your next life."   When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the very banquet where the whole mess had begun.   Before I could even react, Caleb slammed his wineglass onto the floor.   The shards skittered straight to my feet. When I looked up and met his gaze, his eyes were cold enough to freeze me to the bone.   I knew immediately. He had been reborn too.   This time, he was determined to cut all ties with me. Right in front of both families' elders, he laid out his proposal.   "Let's move up the wedding. I want to marry Vivian as soon as possible. As for Mara... she was supposed to take Vivian's place and fulfill the marriage contract with the Ashford family anyway."   The entire room fell silent.   Every pair of eyes turned toward me.   I simply raised my eyes, completely calm.   "Fine. I'll marry him."

Every time I confessed my feelings to my boss, Derek Shaw, he shot me down without hesitation, then casually suggested some other guy I should date instead.   I'd chased him for an entire year, and I'd picked up the tab every single time we went out. Then came his birthday party.   I was standing right outside the private room when I heard him snort to his friends.   "Claire isn't even a woman to me. She's just my free credit card."   Then I walked away.    I told him I'd started dating the last guy he'd introduced me to.   The next day, he called that guy in front of the entire company.   The guy on the other end said, "Claire Bennett? I don't know anyone by that name."   I'd thought I'd been played yet again, so I blocked my so-called boyfriend without a second thought.   10 minutes later, the new CEO walked into the conference room.   The mole on the side of his neck was a perfect match for the one I'd stared at a million times in that photo.

Ethan sent me an invoice for $5,844. Over the past 8 years—he had given me flowers, shared popcorn during our first date, and even paid the parking fee when I was in emergency care—all of which I now had to repay. It was simply because I failed to respond to his messages in time. He felt insecure. I paid the full amount, took my dog, and headed to the only best friend who could still take me in. But just as I used my spare key to open the door, I saw Ethan inside—kissing her.

Please divorce Dad and let Vanessa be my mom. Dad said he's a two-time world champion while you're just a homemaker. You're not good enough for him. I received that "honesty note" from my son at a parent-child workshop.   I clutched the note tightly, my heart aching. Years ago, I had given up my shot at the championship and returned home to take care of Ryan Carter and our son—and now I was being treated with such contempt. That night, Ryan brought out a divorce agreement he had already prepared. I signed it. Then I accepted my coach's invitation and returned to the chess world. 10 years ago, I had left the game so he could focus on winning the title. This time, I would sit across from him.

I died on the night of my 30th wedding anniversary.   Adrian Hart locked me away in the Silvermoon Pack's underground cell, claiming my scent was driving his wolf crazy. It was Lydia Reed's birthday too. He took the entire family to celebrate with her, while everyone forgot I had been burning with a fever for three days.   By midnight, the pack doctor finally unlocked the door. My hearing was already fading, and all I could make out was his voice calling my name before my phone screen suddenly lit up.   Adrian had someone deliver his final message, "Layla, in your next life, stay the hell away from me."   I really died. When I opened my eyes again, the Silvermoon Pack's moon feast was in full swing, its music drifting beneath the crystal chandelier...

All I'd ever done was pay for a few years of Dorian Kestrel's schooling. He was loyal to a fault—after I hit rock bottom, he gave me blood and got me treated, and he worked patrol shifts day and night to keep me afloat. I was terrified he'd work himself into an early grave, so I told him to stop wasting his time on me. He gave me a hard, cold look as he spooned soup into my mouth and simply grumbled, "I'm doing it anyway." Later, we ended up in bed together. I was afraid he'd feel pressured or guilty, so I put on a casual, carefree act and said, "We're both adults. This is just a mutual benefit, no strings attached. You don't owe me anything." After that, I got myself a friend with benefits who cooked all my meals and did all my laundry without asking questions. That arrangement lasted until he became Alpha and started going out of his way to help a new intern who had just joined the team. I didn't want to make things awkward for him, so I packed up all my belongings and left. A month later, I came back to pick up the things I'd left behind and overheard him talking to his friend. "Mirelle doesn't love me anymore. I swear, I don't even want to live anymore."

I started an online relationship with a man my supervisor introduced me to. He was a man of few words, but he never minded listening to me ramble. Burnt toast, puppies on the side of the road, no matter what I sent him, he always wrote back. That lasted until my supervisor dialed his friend's number in front of all our colleagues. "Claire says she's your girlfriend?" "Who? I don't know anyone by that name at all." My supervisor snickered at me, "You're already calling him your boyfriend, and he doesn't even know who you are?" Eyes stinging, I blocked the guy I'd been chatting to for a month. Ten minutes later, the newly appointed CEO walked into the conference room. I stared at the familiar little mole on the side of his neck and suddenly sat straight up. How come the guy I was seeing online is my new boss?

Seraphina held up my treatment journal and claimed she'd saved Eric, the Wolf King.   I reached for it, but she only laughed.   "You brewed a few pots of medicine for me, and now you think you can be his Luna?"   I had no plans to marry anyone. I just wanted my belongings back so I could leave Mistfen.   Then she searched my luggage and pulled out the bone wolf pendant.   "You even dared to steal from the Wolf King. Tonight, you'll apologize in front of him."   That man had spent seven nights in my herb cellar.   His eyes had been covered with medicated cloth until the day he left.   I'd thought he would never know whose hands had saved him.

I bought a car for my boyfriend to drive. Before long, he was using it to take a female coworker to and from work every day, rain or shine.   She started decorating it as if it belonged to her. She put in an air freshener she liked and threw out the flats I kept by the front passenger seat, replacing them with a pair in her own size.   During a downpour, I waited alone outside my office for an hour before my boyfriend finally pulled up with her, in no hurry.   From the passenger seat, she gave me a sweet, apologetic smile. "Claire, I'm such a slow eater. I made your boyfriend late when he was supposed to come get you. Please don't be mad."   Before I could answer, he flicked her forehead affectionately. "Claire's much too mature for that. Unlike you, she doesn't need someone to coax her into eating. You're never going to grow up."

After seven years together, I canceled the mating ceremony with my fated mate, Kellan Voss, before we could form our mating bond.   The staff member looked startled. "Everything is ready for the ceremony. Don't you want to wait until Kellan gets back?"   I took one last look at the Moon Goddess altar I had spent three months decorating myself.   "No. He doesn't have time. He's at Frostpeak Pack, holding a mating ceremony with his first love."

The day I got out of prison, my brother Owen wanted me to thank the sister who'd sent me there. On a livestream, in front of all her followers. "Mia didn't have to come pick you up. Don't embarrass her." Rain trickled down my neck and soaked through my collar. Mia had Owen's coat around her shoulders and her phone held up. My name kept flashing across the screen, always with the same word next to it: arsonist. Our parents had adopted her. After they died, Owen never let me forget that she needed this family more than I did. "It's been 3 long years, but we finally get to bring my sister home." Mia slipped an arm around me. "Let's leave the past in the past, okay?" The plastic bag crinkled in my hand. It held my old clothes and the calendar I'd kept for 3 years, every visiting day marked with a circle. Owen had promised to find out who'd kidnapped me. Colin had promised to wait for me. I'd pictured that door opening so many times. The two of them waiting on the other side, holding proof of my innocence. I waited until my sentence ended. They never came.

The night my adopted brother, who kicked me out three years ago, flew back into the country, my cheating ex-boyfriend was clamped around my hand. A sharp shard of glass had sliced my palm open, and I hissed through my teeth as Arlan Stanford ducked his head, just like he'd done a hundred times back when we were kids. "Hold still, Aura. You've always been the biggest baby about pain. Let me see." "She doesn't look like she wants you touching her." A voice I knew all too well cut in from right behind him. Reese Calder stood a few feet away, his coat slung over one arm, his gaze pinned to our linked hands. The vintage wedding dress in the display case beside us cast a soft, dreamy glow. I stared past Arlan's shoulder at him, and for a split second, I forgot all about the stinging pain in my palm.

My husband's childhood friend appeared on a web show about tracking down first loves.   She said that when he was 18, he'd given up an interview at a prestigious university for me and ruined his future.   That night, viewers flooded my beauty livestream.   A: [Do you regret dragging such a smart man down with you?]   I called toward the door, "Noah, someone wants to know if you regret marrying me."   His voice came from the kitchen.   "I regret not proposing to you two years sooner!"

"Ten thousand dollars. Bet on how long it'll take Lilith to give up the Bayview project. Anyone want to raise?" I froze just outside the curtain, my tray of drinks in hand. The speaker was my husband, Evan Knox. Sitting on his lap was Vanessa Taylor, the architect at Evan's firm and the first alternate for the spot. "Lilith loves you so much." Evan's friend Ben Carter grinned. "Put your arms around her and tell her you need her, and I'll bet she gives it up in a week." Vanessa ran her fingers over Evan's tie. "You promised you'd get me that spot. Don't you dare go back on it." "I won't." Evan took her hand and kissed it. "Lilith can't bear to leave me."

I ran into my ex-husband at the courthouse three years after my first divorce. He worked at the same law firm that my current husband, Ben Carter, had hired. Just 10 days earlier, Ben had shoved me down the porch steps and injured my hand.   "This is what your life looks like after leaving me?"   I tugged my cuff lower.   "Nora, all you have to do is admit you regret leaving me, and I'll help you."   The coffee was still made exactly the way I used to take it. He remembered what I liked, yet he was using my misery as leverage, waiting for me to admit I had been wrong.   I pulled the documents back.   "I'm divorcing Ben. But I don't want your help."