The day I was passed over for promotion for the third time, a torrential rainstorm hit Lakebridge. Standing outside the office building, I texted my boyfriend, Ethan Vale: Clara: Ethan, my umbrella broke. If you haven't left yet, could you pick me up on your way home? 5 minutes later, his black Bentley emerged from the underground garage. It didn't stop as it passed me, but my phone lit up: Ethan: Wait at the pharmacy around the corner. There are employees everywhere here. A second later, a coworker posted a photo in the group chat. Vanessa Reed, fresh from her promotion, wore Ethan's coat as he shielded her head and helped her into the car. Congratulations flooded the comments. No one at the company knew Ethan and I had been together for 9 years. Yet everyone was convinced that he and another woman were made for each other. I watched the car disappear into the rain and realized I didn't want to do this anymore. It was time to end this relationship that could never see the light of day.

I can see a loyalty score above everyone's head. Once it falls below 60%, that person will leave me sooner or later. I was born unable to feel the pull of a fated mate. Whenever I fell in love, the number above his head was the only thing that told me whether I could safely stay by his side. The day my father left the Silverpine Pack, the number above his head was down to 21. He held me and promised he would be back before winter. But that year, snow sealed off the entire Frostvale Range, and he never returned. Once I grew up, whenever a boyfriend's number began to drop, I ended things first. I never let myself fall too deeply. Then I met Callum Ward. Over the next 10 years, he rose from a border ranger to Alpha of the Blackridge Pack, yet his loyalty to me remained at 100%. I didn't know whether he was my fated mate, but whenever I saw that number, I was willing to believe in him. On the day we became mates, he bit open his palm and let his blood fall onto my vowstone. "Evelyn," he told me, "I will always choose you first." I thought a man who had remained unchanged for 10 years would stay with me for a lifetime. But on the night our daughter attended her first Moon Rite, he didn't come. His female deputy had made a mistake at work and couldn't stop crying, so he stayed with her, leaving our daughter and me waiting beneath the Moon Gate. When he came home, he kissed my forehead as usual—but the loyalty score above his head had fallen from 100% to 91%. I knew it was time for me to prepare to leave again.

For five months, I had been dating a powerful Alpha named Vee online. He never showed his face, but late at night, he often sent me pictures of his abs fresh from the shower. Water traced the hard ridges of muscle before disappearing beneath the dangerously low edge of his towel. The photos always came with suggestive messages that made my cheeks burn. I had fallen hard, and I was finally ready to ask him to meet me in person. Then I spotted something painfully familiar in his latest photo: a seal reserved for the highest authority in Wolfpack Group. And that was where I worked. In other words, my online boyfriend might be my boss, the supreme leader of the entire pack!

Eight years into my relationship with Moretti Group CEO Dante Moretti, I sat hidden in a confessional at St. Michael's Church and overheard him agree to marry another woman. One of the few friends who knew about us tried to talk him out of it. "Are you really going to let Elena Rossi take all the blame and spend the rest of her life hidden in the shadows? She's pregnant." Through the wooden confessional door, Dante's reply was calm and cruel. "I owe Matteo Romano my life. Elena loves me, not a title. She'll understand." His friend pressed him. "But you're about to marry Sofia Bellini. What if Elena can't take it?" Dante didn't hesitate. "She'll understand." I looked down at the wedding papers that had arrived two hours earlier, too stunned to think. The man who had once promised to marry me was now helping another woman choose her bridal bouquet. I had hidden in the shadows, quietly thrilled because I thought I was finally going to marry him. What a fool I'd been. Dante was wrong. I would not give the rest of my life to a man who would always expect me to understand.

My name is Cassandra Moretti. I spent 12 years molding Adrian Cole into my chief bodyguard. Then he pointed a gun at my heart for Erin Bennett, the housekeeper's daughter. I destroyed his right hand and left knee, burned his lifetime security contract, and drove him out of Grayhaven. No matter how sharp a blade was, it wasn't worth keeping once it turned on its master. To replace him, I brought Leon Vale, a madman from an underground fighting ring, home with me. One month later, my former bodyguard knelt in a blizzard, his eyes bloodshot as he asked, "What makes that monster better than me?" My new bodyguard held an umbrella over me and ground his shoe into the man's hand. "At least my gun will only ever stand between her and danger."

On my wedding day, two guards stopped me outside the doors to my own ceremony. My fiancé, Matteo De Luca, called. "Let Bianca go in first. Wait in the side hall for twenty minutes." I froze. Matteo continued, "Bianca doesn't believe in marriage. She'll never get married in her life. She just wants to experience a wedding ceremony this once. After she's had her turn, you can come in." Before the doors closed, I saw Bianca already in her wedding gown, standing in front of the rose wall I had built with my own hands. Matteo was adjusting her veil. Sensing my silence, he softened his voice. "This wedding between Bianca and me is just for show. The one who will truly become Mrs. De Luca is you. Don't take a performance so seriously." The call ended, and applause soon drifted out from inside the church. Two hours later, I pulled on a delivery jacket and climbed into the flower van leaving the estate. My floral assistant, Nora, gripped the steering wheel, her eyes red. "Where are we going? Are you coming back for the ceremony?" I watched the estate shrink in the side mirror. "No." I didn't want a wedding where I had to wait my turn. And I sure as hell didn't need a man who'd always make me.

I'd been in a five-month online relationship with a man named "V". He never showed his face, but he always sent me half-naked post-shower photos of his abs late at night. Water droplets trickled down his taut, bulging muscles, disappearing into the dangerous edge of the towel wrapped around his waist. Along with the photos came the explicit messages that made my face burn. I was completely ensnared in this web of passion, about to suggest we finally meet in person. But in the latest photo he sent, I spotted something extremely familiar—the seal representing the highest authority of Sterling Corporation. And I just so happened to work there—meaning my online date was very likely my boss!

3 months after I left the Blackpine Pack, Adrian Thorne spotted me on a street in Greyhaven, walking out of a clinic with one hand cradling my belly. He assumed I couldn't accept stepping aside for his fated mate — that I was using a baby to force my way back into his life and reclaim the title of Luna. He didn't even get out of the car. He simply sent his second-in-command over with a check and ordered me to terminate the pregnancy. "Alpha Thorne will never acknowledge an heir born to a low-ranking omega. Miss Reed, surely you remember the lesson you learned last time." I pushed the check back with a smile. "I'm afraid there's been a mistake. This baby belongs to my husband and me. We got married 2 months ago. This child has nothing to do with Adrian."

After 5 years of marriage, Ethan Whitmore and I had 2 sons. All that time, I devoted myself to my husband and boys, always believing that if I sacrificed just a little more, our family would be a little happier. I thought Ethan would remember everything I'd done for him. Instead, he cheated on me. With his 22-year-old blonde secretary—young, beautiful, and slim enough to fit into the dresses I had worn before we married. I ran crying to my wealthy mother, Catherine Harper. Her expression darkened as she listened. "That bastard certainly knows how to enjoy himself! If he can have a lover, why can't you? I've sponsored more than 12 college students. Take your pick." My sobs stopped short. "Mom, are you telling me to cheat?" She lifted her chin. "I'm telling you to enjoy yourself for once."

When I miscarried after a car accident, my Alpha fiancé arrived at the scene in a helicopter. The rescue line was already dangling outside my window. I reached for it with everything I had, but he spoke into his headset instead. "Pull the line back up. The smell of blood will make Lia lose control. We need to get her out of here first." The rope rose just beyond my fingertips. He flew away with Lia, leaving me trapped in the mangled car, covered in blood. Late that night, I found Lia's crescent-moon earring beside our bed. A strand of her long blonde hair was still tangled in the pillow. I placed the earring by the front door and calmly made a call. "Maeve, I've made up my mind. I can start working for you next Monday."

Only 3 hours after we got our marriage license, my new husband, Nathan Carter, placed an earring in my palm. "Give it back to Vivian for me." I recognized the silver swallow. 5 years ago, my best friend, Vivian Shaw, had been wearing it when I caught her in bed with my ex-husband, Owen Bennett. "How did her earring end up with you?" "I slept with her." He smirked, licking the corner of his mouth. "Last night. I took it off before we got into bed so it wouldn't hurt her. She's so much sexier than you." I stared numbly at the wedding ring on my finger as pain spread through my chest. That very morning, he had told me his only regret wasn't meeting me sooner. When I discovered my ex-husband and best friend's betrayal, Nathan stayed beside me through the darkest days. Over the next 5 years, he slowly made me believe I could begin again. And now, at last, I had married him. But before we'd even signed the marriage license, he had slept with the same woman.

The day I found out I was pregnant, I took the test results to Ethan Blackwell's apartment, hoping to surprise him. I never expected my older brother, Owen Reed, to come back with him. I hurried into the butler's pantry and hid. Then I heard Owen ask with a laugh, "You've kept her a secret for 3 years. Are you still not going to tell me who the bride is?" I tightened my grip on the gift box and barely dared to breathe. Ethan and I had been secretly dating for 3 years, and my brother had never known. Was Ethan finally going to make our relationship public? Through the door, I heard him answer with a laugh. "Celia. We got married last week."

When I caught my husband and my younger sister in our bed again, I grabbed the fireplace poker. "Mom, which one of us leaves this time—her or me?" My mother stepped in front of my sister, snatched the poker away, and slapped me across the face. "Are you really going to drive me to my grave?" The next day, she asked me to meet her on a bridge over the Silverwood River. "Irene, what will it take for you to forgive Leah? Don't get a divorce. Would it make things right if I gave my life for her?" Then, before I could react, she turned and jumped into the Silverwood. Her body was never found. All she left behind was a letter: Don't let your mother's death be in vain. Take care of your sister for me. After that, my husband came home every night, and my sister supposedly went abroad. All our relatives said my mother had sacrificed herself to save my marriage. 3 years later, I attended my mother's annual memorial gala with an ultrasound photo in my purse. Before the event began, security footage from the beach house in Seabrook suddenly appeared on the giant screen. My mother was stroking my sister's swollen belly. "That bridge stunt wasn't for nothing. Once she saw me fall with her own eyes, she didn't dare get a divorce." My husband, Alexander Hawthorne, kissed my sister on the forehead. "Once the baby is born, I'll persuade her to accept it. I'm sorry you'll have to stay hidden a little longer." Clutching the ultrasound photo, I suddenly felt very tired. This time, I didn't want to fight over who got to stay.

The first time I video-called my online boyfriend, my face was swollen from an allergic reaction. A new wolfkin soothing cream had landed me in the clinic, and when I got back, my eyes were still swollen into narrow slits. I had grown up hearing people call me pretty. Never once had I imagined that this was how he would see me for the first time. Mortified, I tried to cover the camera, but Ash laughed and told me not to hide. "Nora, the person I like is the one who talks to me every day. What does it matter what you look like?" After the call, he still chatted with me every night. He even kept asking about my flight, saying he would come pick me up. Ash: Come sooner. I've already decided where I'm taking you for breakfast. I moved my flight back 3 days and even picked out the dress I'd wear when we met. As the plane approached Cedarhaven, I connected to the in-flight Wi-Fi and saw a trending post on the game forum. OP: [I pretended to be the perfect boyfriend for 6 weeks to get revenge on someone I met in a game.] OP: [She ambushed me in the swamp, killed me 7 times in a row, and stole my limited-edition banner. So I made a new account, got close to her, sweet-talked her into dating me, and invited her to cross state lines to meet me.] OP: [She thinks I'm picking her up? She can wait at the airport.] Some people in the comments called him despicable. Others asked whether a game was really worth 6 weeks of effort. He soon posted another reply. OP: [I did start having second thoughts. She's good company. I almost told her everything and tried dating her for real.] OP: [Then we video-called, and I regretted it. Looking like that, did she really think I'd want to be seen with her?] OP: [She claimed it was an allergic reaction. After we hung up, she sent me two photos of some beautiful girl and said that was what she normally looked like.] OP: [Those pictures were obviously taken from the internet. If she were really that pretty, why would she need to date someone online?]

On my wedding day, the wolf guards barred me from the Moon Temple, where I was supposed to become Luna. Ronan Greymark's voice came through our mind-link. He was my fated mate, the Alpha of the Frostridge Pack. "Let Talia go in first. Wait in the side hall for 20 minutes." I stood before the sealed temple doors, wondering if I had misheard him. "Talia has sworn off marriage. She'll never accept any werewolf's mark," Ronan said calmly. "She told me her father's greatest regret was dying before he could see her as a bride. With the anniversary of his death coming up, she just wants to know what it feels like to have a wedding. You can go in after she's done." Before the doors closed, I saw Talia Calder wearing Silver Moon. I had spent 13 months designing, patterning, and sewing that wedding gown by hand. Each phase of the moon embroidered across its skirt represented a year since Ronan and I had met. Now Ronan was lowering his head, straightening another woman's veil. Hearing no response, he softened his voice. "My ceremony with Talia is just for show. You're the one who'll truly become Luna of Frostridge. Don't make a fuss over a performance." The mind-link went dead. Applause soon erupted inside the temple. Two hours later, I changed into my assistant's black work uniform and climbed into the truck hauling away the leftover fabric from the wedding. My design assistant, Nessa Quinn, gripped the steering wheel, her eyes red. "Where are we going? Are you coming back for the real wedding afterward?" I watched the Moon Temple grow smaller in the rearview mirror. "No." I was done with a wedding where I came second. And I was done with an Alpha who would always make me wait.

For five years, I—Ivy Bennett—couldn't get pregnant. Gareth Blackwood, the Alpha of Silvercrown, threw me out as a barren she-wolf, so I turned around and mated Ronan Hale, the newly risen Alpha nobody thought was worth a second look. Then, one marriage later, I got pregnant. And that was how my ex finally found out the problem had been his all along. Red-eyed, he came begging me back. But the husband he'd looked down on was already standing between me and my kids, with them tucked safe behind him. And I gave that man quadruplets.

At my best friend's wedding, the bouquet of white roses brushed a girl's hand, bounced, and landed in my arms. Every eye turned to Nathan. Someone whistled. Others raised their champagne glasses and toasted our eight years together. "Propose! Propose!" "Come on, Nathan. It's finally your turn!" His friends pushed Nathan—the man who ran a $100 billion conglomerate—toward me. I clutched the bouquet, my cheeks warming as I waited for him to make me a promise. Instead, he reached out and took the flowers from my arms. Then he turned and handed them to the girl beside me in a pink bridesmaid dress. "Vivian touched them first." He stroked my hair, his voice as gentle as ever. "It's okay. We'll wait for next time." The photographer followed the bouquet with his lens. The girl looked up at Nathan, unable to hide her delight. I lowered my empty hands and forced a smile. Nathan didn't know there would be no next time. My wedding was the following Saturday.

On my wedding day, my fiancé showed up an hour late—with his secretary. No apology. No explanation. Vincent brushed the rain off Olivia's shoulders, then let her hang on his arm as they came up the aisle. He turned to me like nothing had happened. "Everyone's here. Let's get started." His secretary smiled at me, hand still resting on his arm, a pearl bracelet on her wrist. "I'm so sorry. Good thing it's only an hour—you'll still get to say your vows and become a real Mrs. Mercer tonight." She made sure I caught the word real. For a second I didn't say anything. Then I smiled, slid off my engagement ring, and dropped it into the champagne flute next to me. The diamond hit the glass with a clean little clink. Vincent and both sets of parents froze. I picked up the mic. "Mom, Dad," I said, calm, "I want a different groom."

The day I got an offer from Silvermoon, I moved into my aunt's place. She was a doctor who treated werewolves. Before leaving on a business trip, she called me. "There's a poisoned gray wolf in the kennel out back. Don't let him out. If he won't take his medicine, pry his mouth open and feed him." That night, I went to the basement for the medicine, and a door sprang open. A man lay on the bed inside, complete with wolf ears and a gray tail. A metal collar around his neck delivered medicine into his body, and two electronic locks guarded the door. There were no windows. No phone. Oh no. My aunt had imprisoned a werewolf. For the next 10 days, I snuck him homemade soup, brushed his tail, took him to the roof for some air in the middle of the night, and even promised to hire him a lawyer. I wanted to save him. Then my aunt stormed in with a medical team. "That's Kieran Wolfe, Silvermoon's Alpha! The wolf I told you to feed is in the backyard!" What?! What was I supposed to do now that I had treated my future boss like an imprisoned stray? Help!

My online boyfriend had a weird hobby. Every single day, he sent me photos of the same gray-and-black "puppy" and asked if I thought he looked handsome. The problem was, I was terrified of dogs. But Lucas was amazing at games, had a voice I could listen to all day, always knew exactly what to say when I was upset, and spoiled me whenever it came to gifts. So every time he asked, I gritted my teeth and played along. Amy Carter: Handsome. You won't find another dog this good-looking anywhere in Westbrook. Then came the follow-up. Lucas Wolfe: Would you want to wake up next to him every day? I assumed he was testing the waters about us moving in together. So I answered without hesitation. Amy: Of course. Not long after, we finally agreed to meet in person. But when I arrived at the restaurant, my boyfriend was nowhere to be found. Instead, that same gray-and-black "puppy" was waiting outside in a bow tie, a white rose between his teeth, wagging his tail at me.

On the way to my prenatal appointment, Ethan got a call from his first love. "I'm back in Rainport. You promised I'd always be Luna of the Rain City Pack." Ethan said nothing and ended the call. I thought that was his answer—a rejection. Until late that night, when he had a lawyer deliver papers terminating our mate bond. He told me it was only a public arrangement. Once he repaid the debt he owed his first love, everything would go back to normal. I glanced at the seven-week ultrasound report on the table and calmly signed my name. "I'll move out tomorrow morning. I won't make things difficult for your new mate." Perhaps he had expected tears and a scene. Surprise flickered in Ethan's eyes, and he told the lawyer to add a condo and two million dollars to the settlement. I accepted every last cent. What Ethan didn't know was that, three years ago, I had allowed Crescent Biotech to use three core formulas I owned free of charge so I could marry him. The moment our mate bond ended, that license would expire as well. I hadn't gotten love, but I would take back my money, my shares, and my name. Every last one of them.

On the day of Grant Medical Group's anniversary celebration, someone sabotaged the glass elevator. By the time I crawled out of the twisted car, blood had soaked through my skirt and pooled across the floor. The doctors stationed in the lobby were about to treat me when my husband, Adrian, ordered the entire medical team to the top floor. His best friend, Cecilia, had seen the elevator fall, and the fright had left her struggling to breathe. I clutched his sleeve. "Save me. If I die here, my family will follow the scent of my blood straight to you." Adrian dismissed it as a jealous rant. He had no idea that my mother had once hung trespassing hunters from every tree in a fir forest, that my father had slaughtered a pack of rogue werewolves by himself, or that the smell of my blood could drive my brother Kane out of his mind. I had grown tired of that bloody life. I concealed my identity and hid among humans. "Stop trying to scare me." Adrian pried my hand from his sleeve. "Cecilia is having an asthma attack. Her condition is more urgent than yours." He turned and took every doctor with him. As I watched him walk away, I shared my location in the family group chat. Mom said she was coming to get me. Then Kane sent a message: Kane: How do you want him to die? Adrian, you were as good as dead. What now?

After I realized my CEO husband still couldn't let go of his first love—now divorced and raising a son alone—I began teaching our own son to call him "Uncle." At the Moretti family rite marking our son's seventh birthday, he pinned our son's ceremonial brooch on her child first. When our boy's fever hit 104°F, he gave away the last available room in the pediatric ICU. Every time his father chose someone else, our son would hesitate a little longer before finally forcing out the word "Uncle." Then my husband offered to make up the candle-lighting ritual he had missed—only for his first love to call him away in tears yet again. He thought our son would keep waiting. But this time, our son was the one who waved him away. "Go, Uncle. Mommy and I aren't waiting for you anymore."

I hid my identity and spent three years in the borderlands with Kael, an outcast from his pack. The night I learned I was pregnant, he came home with Blackthorn warriors. "The truth is, I'm the Blackthorn Alpha's second son. In three days, I'll marry the Ironclaw Alpha's daughter. With her pack behind me, I can reclaim my place as heir." He promised me Northslope Manor on one condition: I could never show my face around his new Luna. I gripped the little wooden rattle meant for our pup. "So what does that make me? The mate you'll keep hidden forever?" Kael looked away. "You have no pack. Other than the title of Luna, I can give you anything." "If it's an Alpha's daughter you need, what if I can offer you more than she ever could?"

I'd been married three times. The first time was to help my childhood friend reclaim his father's inheritance. The second was to save the family of the man who once saved my life. The third time, I married Dante. Because I loved him. On our wedding day, he held me close and said, "Evelyn, you'll never have to go through another failed marriage." I believed him for five years. Until the night I overheard him talking to my two ex-husbands. "Bianca is about to marry into the Bellini family. Before the wedding, she wants all four of us to be single and spend five days with her together. But Evelyn has already been divorced twice. She won't agree to a third divorce that easily." My ex-husbands brushed off his concerns. "Please. No one knows divorce better than Evelyn. Once the five days are over, sweet-talk her a little. She'll come right back." "Exactly. After Bianca marries into the Bellini family, we'll help you win Evelyn back." So that was it. They were willing to sacrifice my five-year marriage just to make another woman's dream come true. They thought I would do what I had always done: sacrifice myself for the three of them and stay in the name of love. But they had forgotten one thing. Moretti women didn't get cast aside. We decided who stayed and who left. Now Dante sat across the dining table from me, watching me with the same eyes that had once made my heart race. I didn't question him. I simply turned to the last page and signed my name. "You're right." I set the pen down beside him. 'This will be my last divorce.' Seven months later, Dante stood outside Bellini Estate, staring at my 18-week baby bump. His voice was hoarse when he asked, "Is the baby mine?" I reminded him, "We divorced 30 weeks ago." Adrian came up behind me and slipped an arm around my waist. "Meet my fourth husband," I told Dante.

My mate was the most powerful Alpha in the North and the youngest medical prodigy in the entire pack. His college sweetheart, Vera, was a witch with a gift for brewing wolfbane poisons. For 8 years, she had poisoned people, and he had cured them, treating everyone else's lives like pieces in their twisted little game. Then she used me to test her latest poison, and I nearly died. When I woke up, Kane sighed as he wrote out the prescription for my antidote. "Don't blame Vera. She only wanted to test a new poison. She wasn't really trying to hurt you. She knew I'd be able to save you. She was just acting out because she was mad at me." Before he could finish, a frantic call from Vera sent him rushing away again. He left in such a hurry that he never noticed he had omitted silverleaf from the prescription. The system that had been dormant for 6 years suddenly spoke. [System: Die by the male lead's hand, and you may return home. Without silverleaf, the antidote will become a slow-acting poison. Host may choose whether to take it.] I handed the prescription to the nurse with a smile. "Prepare it exactly as written."

Everyone in my family doted on Madison, the daughter they'd raised in my place. For spring break, Madison wanted a road trip up into the backcountry north of Graystone. I told them the forest roads were still closed for the season and we didn't have a guide with us. We should pick somewhere else. Mom decided I was ruining Madison's fun. She slapped me across the face and told me I could come along or I could get out. In the end we all got in the car anyway. That night somebody stood out in the snow trying to flag us down. I told Dad not to unlock the door. We were miles from anywhere. It wasn't safe. He called me selfish and made me open it. And there it was. A gray-faced grizzly that somehow knew how to wave a paw like a person. It closed its teeth around my arm. I screamed for help. Mom didn't try to save me. She threw her whole weight into shoving me out of the car. When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day Madison first brought up the trip. I told them not to go. Mom told me to get out, same as before. Fine. Then I'll drive the three of you straight out there and feed you to it myself.

Four years after my divorce, at a veterans charity gala, one of my ex-husband's old comrades asked me, "Sarah, do you still hate Arthur for refusing to help arrange your mother's surgery out of state?" I smiled and shook my head. "Not anymore. He was an active-duty military surgeon. He couldn't misuse military resources for family." The man relaxed. "Then do you still love him? He's waited four years for you. He's still single." I was surprised. I held up my left hand and showed him the wedding ring on my finger. "But I've remarried. My daughter is already two years old." The moment I said it, everyone's eyes went to Arthur in the corner. His face was deathly pale. His eyes were bloodshot. I just found it strange. Years ago, when my mother was diagnosed with severe heart disease, I begged him to contact a specialist and arrange an emergency transfer. He refused without a trace of emotion. "Military resources can't be diverted for family. Everything has to follow procedure." My mother died in the ambulance on the way to another hospital. Two years later, on our fourth wedding anniversary, a florist mistakenly delivered a bouquet of white tulips to our home. The card tucked inside read: Arthur, Rex made it. Thank you for contacting the military veterinary center overnight and getting us across state lines for emergency treatment. —Chloe Rex was the retired military dog Chloe's late husband had left behind. So Arthur could bend the rules. He could use military resources first and file the paperwork afterward. My mother and I just weren't worth breaking them for.

The explosion threw me into the rubble. By the time I got my head up, my husband and his partner had already pulled back fifteen feet. I opened my mouth to call for help, and the man who was supposed to be protecting me was walking away. The two of them stood shoulder to shoulder, shaken up over a scrape the size of a dime. Like I had never existed at all. At the department, Arthur and Elena were the golden pair. Everybody said so. Out in the field, they were the kind of partners who put their lives in each other's hands. And no matter how hard I worked, all I ever did was trail behind them. Just civilian staff. Arthur used to grip my shoulder and promise me, "Don't worry. Anything goes wrong, we're the first ones through the door." Then something went wrong, and he threw himself in front of Elena without a second of hesitation. Looking at the two of them walking away, I was suddenly just so tired. A marriage where I'd always be the outsider. I didn't want to do it anymore.

On my very first day working for a top-tier billionaire family, the little heiress "died" in my arms. The pregnant head secretary was fanning the flames, the ruthless Patriarch drew his gun, and the five heirs were ready to drag me out and throw me into the sea. It was an absolute dead end. Until a voice suddenly echoed in my head, "The pregnant secretary's perfume is poison! Get me some fresh air! Save me, and I'll give you 50 million!" 50 million?! With this sudden mind-reading cheat code, the room full of bloodthirsty elites instantly became an open book. I kicked the scheming secretary out of the way, snatched up the dying child, and smashed through the door. A game-over scenario? Watch me. That 50 million was mine!