Sweetheart Comic Series

Married To The Billionaire At First Sight
💥Full story in：https://eng.moboreader.com/1BLzLJ/861083
💍 “I married a stranger to solve my housing problem. He was cold, distant, and clearly didn‘t want me. But the moment we said ‘I do,’ every problem in my life started disappearing. My business thrived. My landlord backed off. My sister’s marriage improved. He said it was ‘just good luck.’ Then I saw a televised interview with the city’s richest billionaire—a man identical to my husband, openly devoted to his wife. And that wife… was me.”
📕：
**MARRIED TO THE BILLIONAIRE AT FIRST SIGHT**

💍 **The heat pressed down like a bad mood that refused to leave.**

October in Toronto wasn‘t supposed to be this hot. But Chloe Bishop had bigger problems than the weather.

Her brother-in-law’s words still rang in her ears from the night before:

*“We‘re splitting everything fifty-fifty! Living expenses, mortgage, car loan—all of it! And your sister lives here, so she pays half too! Two thousand dollars a month? That’s basically freeloading!”*

Chloe had stood frozen outside the bedroom door, listening. Her sister’s marriage was already cracking. If she stayed, she would be the hammer that shattered it.

So she had to leave.

But leaving wasn‘t enough. If she moved out alone, her sister would worry. Feel guilty. Keep trying to help.

There was only one clean solution.

Marriage.

Absurd, maybe. Desperate, definitely.

She didn’t even have a boyfriend.

But she remembered Grandma Jones. And the proposal that had sounded ridiculous at the time.

*Marry my eldest grandson.*

---

👵 **Grandma Jones was waiting outside the Civil Affairs Bureau.**

Beside her stood a tall man with a cold, intimidating presence. His posture was straight, his expression sharp, his aura screaming *keep your distance.*

So this was him. David Jones.

Chloe blinked.

This was not what she had imagined.

According to Grandma Jones, her grandson was thirty, hopelessly single, and socially awkward enough to scare women away. An executive with money—but no wife.

Chloe had assumed he was ugly. Painfully ugly. Because if a rich man couldn‘t find a girlfriend, there were usually only two reasons: extreme pickiness… or an unbearable face.

She had bet on the face.

She lost.

David Jones was strikingly handsome—cold eyes, defined features, the kind of man who made people straighten their backs unconsciously. Standing there in silence, he looked untouchable.

And dangerous—for her peace of mind.

---

📋 **Inside the Civil Affairs Bureau, the air was cool and sterile.**

At the counter, David suddenly stopped.

*“Miss Bishop,”* he said, looking at her seriously, *“you can still walk away. Marriage isn’t something to joke about.”*

He hoped—irrationally—that she would say no.

He didn‘t want this. Not with a stranger. Not like this.

Chloe met his gaze without hesitation.

*“I’ve thought it through. Once I decide something, I don‘t regret it.”*

The clerk glanced between them again and again, visibly uneasy. They had registered countless couples, but this was the first time it felt like witnessing a corporate merger rather than a wedding. No smiles. No nerves. No excitement.

The stamp came down.

Thud.

Two red marriage certificates slid across the counter.

No congratulations. No photos. No holding hands.

They walked out together like colleagues leaving a meeting.

---

🏠 **David handed her a set of keys.**

*“The apartment is in Square Garden. Grandma mentioned your bookstore is near Toronto Middle School. It’s about fifteen minutes by bus.”*

He paused. *“Do you have a driver‘s license?”*

*“Yes.”*

*“Good. If you want a car, I’ll handle the down payment. You take care of the monthly installments.”*

Then, without waiting for her reply, he continued.

*“I‘m busy. I leave early, come back late, and travel often. You don’t need to take care of me. Household expenses—I‘ll transfer money to you every month on the tenth.”*

He paused, eyes sharpening.

*“One more thing. For now, this marriage stays secret.”*

Each sentence landed clean and decisive. Like clauses in a contract.

Chloe didn’t mind. This marriage was a solution—not a romance.

She accepted the keys.

---

🚪 **She went home to pack.**

Her sister, Kate, was on the balcony hanging laundry. When Chloe showed her the red marriage certificate, Kate‘s face went pale.

*“You—what? You don’t even have a boyfriend!”*

*“I’ve been seeing him for a while,”* Chloe lied smoothly. *“His name is David. He‘s busy, so you never met him. He proposed. I agreed.”*

Kate’s mind spun. Tears welled up. *“I told your brother-in-law you pay your share. You don‘t have to leave—”*

Chloe squeezed her hand. *“It’s not because of that. I‘m happy. You should be happy for me.”*

Kate broke down.

After she finally calmed down, Chloe added gently, *“His place is in Square Garden. Ten minutes by e‑bike.”*

*“What about his family?”*

Chloe paused. She didn’t actually know much.

*“He works for a major group. Owns a car and a house. His situation is stable.”*

Kate‘s expression shifted. *“The house is his pre‑marital property, right?”*

Chloe nodded.

*“Then you need your name on the deed,”* Kate said firmly. *“That’s your protection.”*

Chloe didn‘t answer. The red marriage certificate felt suddenly heavier in her bag.

---

🏙️ **The apartment in Square Garden was not what she expected.**

It was a penthouse. Floor‑to‑ceiling windows. A view of the city that made her breath catch.

This wasn’t an executive‘s apartment. This was a billionaire’s home.

She texted David: *“The apartment is… huge.”*

His reply came minutes later: *“I like space.”*

*“This is more than space.”*

*“Don‘t overthink it. It’s just a place to sleep.”*

She wanted to argue. But she was too tired. And honestly? Too stunned.

---

📺 **Three weeks later, she saw him on television.**

She was closing the bookstore, wiping down counters, when Sara, her business partner, pointed at the small wall-mounted screen.

*“Chloe, look! That’s the guy who owns half the city!”*

The news was airing an interview with the CEO of Jones Group. A man so wealthy and powerful that his face was rarely seen in public.

The camera panned to him.

Chloe‘s blood ran cold.

It was David.

Her husband.

The man who had handed her two hundred dollars for a taxi and told her to buy her own car in installments.

The reporter asked, *“Mr. Jones, you’ve been married for several weeks now. How is married life treating you?”*

David’s face softened—something she had never seen. *“It‘s the best decision I ever made. My wife is… everything I didn’t know I needed.”*

The reporter smiled. *“And what would you say to her right now?”*

David looked directly into the camera. His eyes seemed to pierce through the screen, straight into the small bookstore where Chloe stood frozen.

*“I know you didn‘t marry me for my money. But I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure you never have to worry about anything ever again.”*

Sara shrieked. *“Chloe! Is that—is that your husband?!”*

Chloe couldn‘t answer.

Her phone buzzed.

**David:** *“Come home. We need to talk.”*

---

💥 **The penthouse elevator opened directly into the living room.**

David was standing by the window, his back to her, the city lights reflecting off his sharp profile.

*“You saw the interview.”*

*“Yes.”*

*“I should have told you.”*

*“Yes.”* She set down her bag. *“Why didn’t you?”*

He turned. His eyes were unreadable.

*“Because I wanted you to choose me. Not my money. Not my name. Just… me.”*

*“I didn‘t choose you at all,”* she said quietly. *“I chose a solution to a problem.”*

He walked toward her. Stopped inches away.

*“And now?”*

She looked up at him—the stranger she had married, the billionaire who had hidden in plain sight, the man who had quietly solved every problem she had without her even asking.

*“Now,”* she said, *“I don’t know what I want.”*

He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers were warm.

*“Then let me show you.”*

---

👑 **The woman who married a stranger for convenience just discovered he‘s a billionaire.**

**And he’s been in love with her since before she said ‘I do.’**

*To be continued…*
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The Alpha's Discarded Luna
💥Full story in：https://eng.moboreader.com/1Gjlvp/825352
💍 “My husband bought his first love a fifty‑million‑dollar necklace. The ‘Tears of Moonstone’—a symbol of eternal devotion. Three years ago, I showed him that same necklace. He told me I wasn‘t worthy because I had no wolf. Now she wears it around her throat while she wraps her arms around him in his office. I didn’t cry. I didn‘t scream. I just handed him the divorce papers hidden under quarterly reports. He signed. Seven days. Then he’ll never see me again.”
📕：
**THE ALPHA‘S DISCARDED LUNA**

💍 **The whispers in the break room stopped the moment I walked in.**

But I had already heard them.

*“Alpha spent fifty million on the ‘Tears of Moonstone‘ necklace for Ivy.”*
*“That’s the necklace that represents eternal devotion.”*

Three years ago, I had pointed at that same necklace in a magazine. *“It‘s beautiful,”* I whispered to Ethan.

He hadn’t even looked. *“That necklace is meant for she‑wolves who‘ve gone through the official Luna ceremony. You don’t even have a wolf. Stop making things harder for me.”*

Now it hung around Ivy‘s throat. And he had paid fifty million for it.

---

🚪 **I walked into the CEO’s office to deliver a document.**

Ethan sat behind his desk. Ivy perched on the edge beside him, arms wrapped around his neck, her lips brushing his cheek. He didn‘t pull away.

The document slipped from my numb fingers. Papers scattered across the floor.

Ethan’s face hardened. *“Do you not know how to knock?”*

Ivy quickly jumped off the desk and walked toward me. *“Lianne, please don‘t misunderstand. Ethan gave me such an amazing gift.”* She tilted her head, showing off the moonstone. *“He told me I’m the only person worthy of this symbol of eternal devotion.”*

I crouched, gathered the scattered papers, and placed them on his desk. *“Alpha, this needs your signature.”*

*“It‘s beautiful,”* I added. *“It looks perfect on you.”*

My composure seemed to unsettle Ethan. *“Ivy just returned. The necklace was only a welcome‑back gift. Don’t overthink it.”*

*“Alright.”* I walked out without looking back.

---

📜 **That evening, I hid the Rejection beneath a stack of quarterly reports.**

Ethan came home late. He didn‘t ask about my day. He didn’t notice the bruises hidden under my concealer. He just signed the papers in front of him—quick, practiced strokes.

He didn‘t realize he was signing away our bond.

Seven days. That’s all I had left.

---

🏠 **Then Ivy moved in.**

*“Some fans found her place,”* Ethan said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. *“Until she finds somewhere safe, staying here is the best option.”*

The staff cleaned out the nursery—the room meant for our future child—and turned it into her bedroom. Ethan personally stayed while they arranged everything. He even instructed them to use lavender scent diffusers because it was Ivy‘s favorite.

The laughter drifting from next door tore deeper into a heart already falling apart.

---

🌙 **Late that night, he came to my room.**

*“Can’t even stand properly anymore?”* he murmured, catching me when I slipped.

*“Shouldn’t you be with Ivy?”*

He kissed me—fierce, possessive, stealing the air from my lungs. Three years of marriage had taught him every weakness I had.

For a moment, I let myself sink into the illusion.

Then a terrified scream rang out from Ivy‘s room.

*“Ethan, help me!”*

He was off the bed before I could speak. He didn’t look back.

I lay there, staring at the ceiling, the warmth already fading from my skin.

---

💔 **The next morning, I finished packing.**

I left behind every piece of jewelry he had ever given me. The expensive gifts. The empty promises.

I only took what was mine. My clothes. My documents. And the ultrasound photo of our baby—the one he had never asked to see.

Ethan caught me at the door.

*“Where do you think you‘re going?”*

*“Out.”*

He grabbed my wrist. *“You’ve been acting strange. Is this about Ivy?”*

I looked at him—the man I had saved from silver poisoning, the man I had given three years of my life, the man who had never once chosen me.

*“No,”* I said. *“It’s about me.”*

I pulled my wrist free and walked out.

---

🔥 **Five days left.**

He still doesn‘t know about the Rejection. He still doesn’t know about the baby. He still doesn‘t know that the woman who healed him is about to disappear forever.

But he will.

**Soon.**

*To be continued…*
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Get Back The Abandoned Luna
💥Full story in：https://eng.moboreader.com/119Uyz/854303
🥀 “For three years, I couldn’t conceive. The pack whispered behind my back. My husband’s mistress carried his heir. I thought it was my fault. Until I found a secret medical report—someone had been poisoning me. Long‑term hormone interference. The same ‘special herbs’ that kept me barren. And my husband never investigated. He never wanted to. Because he planned this all along.”
📕：
**GET BACK THE ABANDONED LUNA**

🥀 **The ballroom was a cage of crystal and lies.**

I stood frozen beneath the arched doorway, clutching a white silk gown I had designed for a celebration I wasn’t invited to. The victory celebration for a ranking I had built. My husband, Alexander, stood at the center of the hall with his hand on another woman’s waist.

Faye. His ex. The one who had abandoned him five years ago.

Now she pressed against him, her emerald eyes half‑lowered, her lips curved in a smirk that spoke of victory. His scent saturated her entire being.

*“Luna—”* Ruby’s shocked gasp sent ripples through the room. Every eye turned to me.

Whispers surged: *“Didn’t the Alpha say the Luna was feeling unwell?”* *“Now both of them are here—”*

Feeling unwell. That’s how my husband had explained my absence.

Then Faye collapsed to her knees. *“I’m pregnant!”*

The pack needed an heir. And I—married for three years without conceiving—had become the obstacle.

---

💊 **But the truth was worse than infertility.**

Two years ago, after a routine examination, a physician had secretly pulled me aside. He handed me test results, his face pale.

*“Luna, your hormone levels are extremely abnormal. Symptoms indicate long‑term interference from some special herb. Someone has been poisoning you.”*

I took that report to Alexander.

He glanced at it, his expression unreadable. Then he said dismissively, *“It might be a stress response from high‑intensity training. Let’s observe for a while longer.”*

No investigation. No questions. No one held accountable.

I trusted him. I believed he was protecting me from the pressure of an inquiry.

Now I understood. He simply didn’t want to investigate. Because from the beginning, he didn’t care about the results. He had never seen me as someone who needed to be cherished or protected.

**In his heart, I was nothing more than a tool for obtaining power.**

---

🗡️ **The whispers at the ballroom cut deeper than any blade.**

*“The Luna’s inability to conceive is a well‑known fact…”*
*“The pack always needs succession…”*
*“Miss Faye is, after all, the one the Alpha truly loves…”*

Alexander bent down and pulled Faye up from the floor, his movements gentle, careful, as if handling fragile porcelain. Then he straightened up and announced to the room:

*“This child is the heir to the Crescent Moon Pack. I will not let Faye leave.”*

I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry.

I turned and walked out.

---

📜 **Father’s old study was sealed for nearly two years.**

I pushed open the heavy oak door. The scent of camphor and old paper rushed toward me.

I removed the necklace I had worn close to my body—the only key my father had left me. The bottom drawer opened to reveal legal documents, important correspondence, and a thick contact book in my father’s handwriting.

Every ally relationship. Every person who owed the Winter Wolves a favor. Every escape route he had laid out for me.

Tears welled up as I saw the lengths he had gone to protect me.

Then a name caught my eye: **Lucien Nightshade.**

My father’s notation: *“During the Nightshade Pack succession dispute, Lucien was at a disadvantage. I provided financial assistance. Later, our two families discussed a marriage alliance, abandoned due to Scarlett’s refusal. In case of difficulties, he is the best option.”*

The Nightshade family controlled one‑third of the northern territories and wielded the greatest influence on the Council.

I had refused a marriage alliance with him once. I had chosen Alexander instead.

Now I was paying for that choice.

---

📞 **I picked up my phone and dialed Kathleen’s number.**

Kathleen Nightshade. Lucien’s sister. An old acquaintance.

*“Kathleen, help me. I need to speak privately with your brother. This is urgent.”*

There was a pause. Then: *“Scarlett? I heard about the celebration. I’m so sorry.”*

*“I don’t need sorry. I need Lucien.”*

*“I’ll arrange it.”*

---

🔥 **Three days later, I stood in a private suite in neutral territory.**

Lucien Nightshade was taller than I remembered. His dark hair was streaked with silver at the temples, and his eyes—the color of aged whiskey—held a patience that spoke of a man who had learned to wait.

*“Scarlett.”* His voice was low, measured. *“You look… different.”*

*“Betrayal changes a person.”*

*“I heard.”* He gestured to a chair. *“Sit. Tell me what you need.”*

*“An alliance. A marriage.”* I met his eyes without flinching. *“Yours and mine.”*

He didn’t blink. *“You refused me once.”*

*“I was young. Stupid. In love with a man who didn’t deserve me.”*

*“And now?”*

*“Now I’m done being a victim. I want my pack back. I want my father’s legacy protected. And I want Alexander to watch me take it all from him.”*

Lucien studied me for a long moment. Then he nodded.

*“The Council will want proof of your husband’s betrayal. The infertility poisoning. The affair. Do you have it?”*

*“I have the medical report. I have witnesses. I have his mistress’s public confession.”*

*“Then we have a deal.”*

He extended his hand. I shook it.

His grip was firm. Warm.

*“Welcome back, Scarlett.”*

---

👑 **The abandoned Luna is no longer abandoned.**

**She’s coming home with the devil at her side.**

*To be continued…*
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Pregnant And Fleeing The Ruthless Billionaire
💥Full story in：https://eng.moboreader.com/1FuN9B/802578
🤰 “For five years, I was his secret lover. Perfect. Compliant. Invisible. Then I woke up to a cold email and a seven-figure wire transfer. He was marrying European royalty. The money was my severance. So I invoked my contract‘s termination clause. He didn’t like that. He froze my accounts, framed me for fraud, and gave me three days to fix it—or go to prison. What he doesn‘t know is that I just found three positive pregnancy tests at the bottom of my trash can. He will never let me leave if he finds out. So I’m crashing a Hamptons gala in a black silk gown. And I‘m taking his empire with me.”
📕：
**PREGNANT AND FLEEING THE RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE**

🤰 **The morning light sliced through the floor-to-ceiling windows. I woke up to the familiar emptiness beside me. Armand’s side of the bed was cold. He was already gone. There was never a note.**

My phone screen was dark. No messages. No missed calls. Then I opened my email.

A message from “Taylor Corp. Family Office.” The subject line was a string of project codes. I typed in the password I had been forced to memorize five years ago.

It was brutally simple. No greeting. No explanation. Just a digital signature for a penthouse on Central Park West. A new cage.

Then my phone vibrated. A bank alert. My private account had been credited with a seven-figure sum.

The phone slipped from my numb fingers. The amount was too large. It wasn‘t an allowance. It felt like a severance. A final payment for services rendered.

I dialed Armand’s private line. He answered on the sixth ring. The background was filled with helicopter rotors.

*“Jodi.”*

*“I received the email. And the transfer.”*

A pause. *“And?”*

*“Armand, what is this?”*

A dry, humorless chuckle. *“A reward. For last night. For your obedience.”*

The word hit me like a slap. *Reward.* My obedience had been priced, packaged, and delivered via wire transfer.

*“The apartment is for your convenience,”* he said. *“Don’t be difficult, Jodi.”*

I ended the call. I didn‘t say another word. Anything more would be classified as “difficult.”

I opened the news app. A headline from the financial section pushed to the top of my feed.

**Taylor Corp CEO Armand Taylor to Announce Engagement to European Royalty.**

The article was brief but solid. A grainy photo of Armand at a gala in Monaco, his head bent toward a blonde woman.

Everything clicked into place. The apartment. The money. The “reward.” He wasn’t just moving me out. He was scrubbing the evidence. Cleaning house before the new owner arrived.

---

✍️ **The next morning, I drafted my termination request.**

Section 9. Thirty days’ written notice. I wrote with the detached precision of a lawyer. No emotion. No accusations. Just the facts.

I hit send.

Then my phone buzzed. A blocked number. *“Ms. Holden. Sterling Hale-Prescott. A friend of Armand‘s. I think we should have a chat.”*

Armand was sending in one of his lieutenants to handle the problem.

*“Fine,”* I said. *“Le Bernardin. One hour.”*

---

💎 **Sterling was already seated in a private booth. He slid a small navy blue velvet box across the table.**

Cartier. *“A little something from Armand. He thought you might be feeling neglected.”*

I didn’t touch it.

*“Don‘t be ungrateful, Jodi,”* he said. *“He can be even more generous after the wedding. You’ll just need to be more… discreet.”*

Then he added, *“Or if you get lonely, I‘m sure some of us would be happy to keep you company. In our circle, we believe in sharing resources.”*

That was it.

I picked up the tall glass of ice water and threw it directly into his face.

*“Deliver a message to Armand,”* I said. *“First, my termination request is not negotiable. Second, upon the conclusion of the thirty-day review, I will disappear so completely you’ll wonder if I ever existed. Third, keep your dogs on a leash. Because if any of you ever speak to me like that again, I cannot guarantee the structural integrity of your teeth.”*

I walked out.

---

📞 **My phone rang. Armand.**

I declined and blocked his number. Then Grant Fletcher called. I answered.

*“Jodi Holden, have you lost your mind?”* Armand’s voice was a furious snarl.

*“I’ve never been more sane.”*

*“Everything you have, I gave you! I can freeze your accounts, your assets—”*

*“Then I suggest you try,”* I said. *“The agreement is quite specific. During the thirty-day review, all assets are frozen but cannot be disposed of without mutual consent.”*

Stunned silence. He never thought I‘d read the fine print.

*“We’ll see you in court,”* I said softly.

I hung up.

---

🧾 **That night, I found the tests.**

Three of them. Positive. Hidden at the bottom of my bathroom trash can. I don‘t know when I took them. I don’t remember buying them. But the lines were clear.

I was pregnant. With Armand Taylor‘s child.

If he found out, he would never let me leave. He would use the baby as leverage. He would lock me in that penthouse and throw away the key.

I sat on the bathroom floor, the tests clutched in my hands, and I made a decision.

I wasn’t going to disappear. I wasn‘t going to run.

I was going to fight.

---

🎭 **The Hamptons gala was in three days.**

An exclusive event. Every tech CEO, every billionaire, every power broker in the city would be there. Including the CEO whose acquisition Armand had been trying to close for months.

The same acquisition that Selah—my vicious new replacement—had framed me for sabotaging.

Armand had given me three days to fix it. He had frozen my accounts, stripped my dignity, and threatened me with prison.

He thought I was broken.

He had no idea that I had just discovered the one thing that made me dangerous: I had nothing left to lose.

And I had everything to gain.

---

🔥 **The woman they tried to discard is about to become the most dangerous person in the room.**

**Because pregnant women don’t play by the rules.**

*To be continued…*
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THE LYCAN KING'S TREASURED LUNA
💥Full story in：https://eng.moboreader.com/qmE33/555217
🖤 “She doesn‘t know I’ve been searching for her for years. My wolf recognized her scent before I did—bergamot and rain, even through the stench of that dungeon. She was barely alive. Skin stretched over bone. Eyes that had seen too much pain. I carried her out of that hell myself. She thinks I‘m a stranger. She doesn’t know I‘m the Lycan King. And she doesn’t know that I will burn every pack that hurt her to the ground.”
📕：
**THE LYCAN KING‘S TREASURED LUNA**

🖤 **The call came at midnight. Tobias, one of my scouts, was trembling.**

*“Your Majesty… there’s something in the old dungeon. We thought it was empty. But we heard movement.”*

I was already on my feet. My wolf was restless, pacing. It had been restless for three years—ever since the night I felt a ripple through fate. A mate bond, fractured but alive. Somewhere.

*“Stay back,”* I ordered. *“I’m going alone.”*

The dungeon was in the abandoned sector of a minor pack’s territory. A place they used for “undesirables.” I had never visited. I had never wanted to know what happened in the dark.

Tonight, I had no choice.

The stench hit me first. Rot. Waste. Blood. And beneath it all—faint, almost buried—bergamot and rain.

My wolf slammed against my ribs.

**[Mate.]**

---

⚰️ **The cell door was open. Ajar. Someone had forgotten to lock it.**

Inside, a creature was dragging itself across the floor. Skeletal. Naked. Her hair was a matted tangle, her skin cracked and weeping. She moved like every inch was a war.

I knelt beside her. She flinched—a reflex, not fear. She was too broken for fear.

*“I’m not going to hurt you,”* I said.

Her eyes found mine. Red. Burning. And on her forehead, a third eye—black socket, molten gold iris.

My wolf howled.

**[Mine. MINE.]**

I gathered her into my arms. She weighed nothing. Her bones pressed against my chest like twigs.

She didn‘t speak. She just stared at me, uncomprehending, as if she had forgotten that kindness existed.

*“You’re safe now,”* I said.

She closed her eyes.

---

🏰 **The palace healers worked for three days.**

They cleaned her wounds. Cut away the matted hair. Stitched the places where silver had burned into her flesh. They told me she had been there for three years. That she had been beaten, violated, starved. That she had eaten her own waste to survive.

I listened. My hands didn‘t shake. But my wolf was pacing, snarling, demanding blood.

*“Who did this?”*

*“Alpha Joe of the Khragnir Pack, Your Majesty. And his family.”*

I had never heard of them. They were nothing. A minor pack on the edge of the continent. They had tortured my mate for three years, and I hadn’t known.

Because I had been searching in the wrong places.

---

👁️ **She woke on the fourth day.**

Her eyes were no longer burning red. They were soft, brown, wary. The third eye on her forehead had faded to a faint scar.

She looked at me and whispered, *“Who are you?”*

*“Someone who found you.”*

*“Why?”*

I didn‘t have an answer she would believe. Not yet.

*“Rest,”* I said. *“We’ll talk when you‘re stronger.”*

She nodded and closed her eyes again. But her hand reached out and touched mine. Just for a moment.

My wolf purred.

---

🔥 **I ordered the investigation myself.**

Alpha Joe. Ama. Vargos. Levon. Every single person who had laid a hand on her. I sent my royal guard to bring them to the capital.

They came in chains, trembling, begging.

*“We didn’t know she was the Lycan King‘s mate!”* Joe wept.

*“Ignorance is not a defense,”* I said. *“You tortured an innocent woman for three years. You starved her. You violated her. You tried to break her soul.”*

I looked at the council. *“What is the punishment for such crimes?”*

*“Death, Your Majesty.”*

*“Then carry it out.”*

---

💍 **Narine didn’t watch the executions. She didn’t need to.**

She sat in the palace garden, wrapped in a blanket, staring at the sky. I sat beside her.

*“They‘re gone,”* I said.

*“I know.”*

*“Do you feel anything?”*

She was silent for a long moment. Then: *“I feel… tired. And hungry. And maybe a little bit like I want to live.”*

It was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard.

*“Then live,”* I said. *“And let me help you.”*

She looked at me—really looked. *“Why? You don’t even know me.”*

*“I know enough.”*

*“What do you know?”*

*“That you survived three years in hell. That you crawled out of a dungeon on your own. That you’re still breathing.”* I reached out and took her hand. *“And that my wolf has been screaming your name since the moment I found you.”*

---

👑 **The woman who was abandoned by the world has been found by a king.**

**And he’s never letting her go.**

*To be continued…*
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Second Life: Dead Wife Rises For Vengeance
💥Full story in：https://eng.moboreader.com/1C2xEb/854327
💀 “On our second anniversary, my husband took me to a mountain cliff. He said he wanted to celebrate. Instead, he handed me divorce papers. My stepsister was his mistress. They pushed me off the edge—pregnant, broken, and full of regret. But I didn’t die. I woke up at twenty, with all my memories intact. Now I’m going to make them pay. And the man who saved me in my first life? I won’t let him sacrifice himself for me again.”
📕：
**SECOND LIFE: DEAD WIFE RISES FOR VENGEANCE**

💀 **The mountain air was crisp and thin. I stepped closer to the edge, a soft laugh escaping my lips.**

*“Steven, this place feels unreal. It‘s like standing inside a painting.”*

It was our second wedding anniversary. He had taken time off to travel with me. I was genuinely happy. I was carrying his child—our child. I planned to tell him tonight.

What I couldn’t see was that his right hand was openly clasping another woman’s.

*“Andrea,”* he said, his voice cutting through the morning breeze. *“Let’s get a divorce.”*

I froze. Slowly, I turned around, forcing an awkward smile. *“Honey… what did you just say?”*

He pulled out a divorce agreement. *“The car and house go to you. The company—you don‘t know how to run it. I’ll continue managing it.”*

*“Why…?”*

Then I heard her voice. *“Because Steven doesn’t love you. The one he loves is me.”*

Sandra. My stepsister. The girl I had treated like my own flesh and blood.

She hooked her arm around his and pressed against him. *“Andrea, do yourself a favor and sign the papers.”*

I shook my head. *“No… this isn’t real. You’re joking, right? Honey, today is our anniversary—”*

*“Andrea, I don’t have time for this,”* Steven snapped. *“Sign the agreement now—or don’t blame me for being ruthless.”*

I broke down. I reached for his arm. He shoved me away.

---

💔 **Then I told him the news I had been saving.**

*“Steven! I’m pregnant! I’m carrying your child—we don’t have to divorce. Let’s start over, please!”*

He stiffened.

Sandra tightened her grip on his arm. *“Steven, Brian is already over a year old. Are you going to let him keep being called an illegitimate child?”*

Brian. The obedient little boy who always called me Auntie. Sandra had said he was adopted from an orphanage.

He was my husband’s son.

*“No,”* Steven said firmly, pulling Sandra into his arms. *“Brian is my son. I won’t let him suffer anymore.”*

He looked back at me, his gaze icy. *“Andrea, this is your last chance. Sign.”*

If I still didn‘t understand now, I was a fool.

How many things had they been hiding from me?

---

🗡️ **Sandra leaned in, her face twisted with malice. She whispered in my ear.**

*“Let me tell you a secret. Your father and your brother didn’t die by accident.”*

My heart lurched. *“You did it?”*

*“Wasn’t it beautifully done?”* She smiled darkly. Then she wrapped her hands around my shoulders and pushed me backward, step by step.

*“One more secret—Steven bought you an accident insurance policy. Guess who the beneficiary is?”*

She whispered the name like poison.

*“My name. So today… is the day you die.”*

She shoved me. I stumbled, hit the railing, and before I could regain balance, she pushed again.

I tipped over the edge.

Instinct took over. My fingers clawed at the metal bar. My entire body dangled in midair. Beneath me was a bottomless abyss.

Steven crouched down and pried at my fingers. I held on too tightly.

He picked up a jagged stone and smashed it down on my hand.

Once. Twice. Blood burst from my mangled fingers.

I didn’t scream. I laughed. Wild, broken, desperate.

*“What are you laughing at?”* Sandra snapped. She lifted her foot and kicked me in the head.

The world went black. My fingers lost their strength. I plunged into the void.

---

🌑 **I fell through branches and thorns, my flesh torn, blood soaking my clothes.**

But my mind was terrifyingly clear.

Scenes flashed before my eyes. The truth I had been blind to.

Steven had approached me for my family’s fortune. Sandra had murdered my father and brother. They had been plotting together for years.

I had mistaken enemies for family. I had loved them, protected them, and let them destroy everyone I loved.

As I lay dying in a pool of blood at the valley floor, I saw a man.

His hands were locked in handcuffs, yet his smile was gentle. Warm.

*“Andrea, don‘t be afraid,”* he said softly. *“I killed them. You don’t need to feel guilty.”*

Sam. The man I had hurt the most. The one I owed the most.

*’Sam, if there is another life, let me protect you this time.’*

---

⏰ **Then I heard voices.**

*“Sis—hey, sis. Wake up.”*

A warm hand brushed my cheek, clumsily wiping away tears.

*“Sis, did you have a nightmare? Don’t be scared. Your handsome, brave little brother is here.”*

Darius. My brother. Alive.

I forced my eyes open and threw my arms around him, sobbing.

*“I missed you so much!”*

He hugged me back, patting my back awkwardly. *“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”*

I laughed and cried at the same time.

I had been given a second chance.

---

👑 **I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.**

The face staring back was younger. Soft. Unscarred.

I was twenty years old again. Before Steven. Before Sandra. Before they destroyed my family.

Hatred surged through my veins, but I forced it down.

I couldn‘t let them see. Not yet.

I would play the perfect fiancée. I would collect proof. I would turn their traps into public humiliation.

And this time, I would make them beg for mercy before they fell.

---

🔥 **Samuel Kingswell.**

He was the wild card. The man who saw straight through my smiling mask. In my first life, he had killed them for me—and paid with his own freedom.

This time, I wouldn‘t let him sacrifice himself.

This time, I would protect him too.

**The dead wife has risen.**

**And revenge is a dish best served ice cold.**

*To be continued…*
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