Youran Qianwu

For three years, I played the perfect Luna to Cristian, Alpha of the Blackwood Pack, sacrificing my own life to maintain our political marriage. That was until a fragile Omega named Angelena appeared, and he threw me away like garbage. He gave her his private lounge, bought her lavish gifts, and looked at her with a tenderness I had never received. At the city's biggest gala, he publicly humiliated me in front of all the elites. "Take off your gown. Give it to Angelena." He demanded I strip in public just because his mistress liked my dress. When he got a tiny papercut during a patrol, he let her fake a hysterical breakdown, completely dismissing my frantic rush to save him. Later that night, he violently forced himself on me in a jealous rage, leaving my neck covered in dark claiming bruises. But the moment Angelena called, crying over a minor accident, he abandoned me at the trauma scene to comfort her. To make matters worse, my own father texted to disown me because my ruined marriage had just cost him a lucrative business contract. I was his destined mate, yet I was treated worse than a stray dog. I gave up my dignity for a pack and a family that only saw me as a disposable tool. Staring at the furious texts on my phone, I didn't cry or beg. I just laughed. I turned down a rival Alpha's offer of sanctuary, got into my car, and drove straight into the night. It was time to burn this cage to the ground.

My family's company went bankrupt, and my biological father was lying in the ICU, kept alive by machines that cost tens of thousands a day. I thought it was just a tragic business failure, until I caught my mother in bed with my stepfather. They had secretly transferred all our assets months ago, deliberately bankrupting the company and leaving my father to die. To pay the hospital bills, my stepfather forced me to a private club, trying to sell me to a sleazy investor. When I refused, he slapped me across the face, and my mother just looked at me with cold, dead eyes. "Be realistic, Jaelynn. A woman's body is a tool. Use it to get what you need." Later, right before my father's emergency surgery, my stepfather signed a Do Not Resuscitate order and froze the medical accounts. "If you don't get on your knees and spread your legs for him, I will tell the hospital to pull your father's plug." Standing in the freezing rain, covered in mud and blood, I stared at the astronomical hospital bill in my hand. My own family had plotted to murder my father and sell me to the highest bidder. The betrayal shattered every ounce of sanity I had left. I didn't cry or beg them anymore. Instead, I pulled out a water-stained, gold-embossed business card. It belonged to Dolph Valentine, the most ruthless billionaire in New York and my ex-fiancé's uncle. If they wanted to destroy my life, I was going to sell my soul to the biggest monster of them all and drag them straight to hell.

My billionaire husband, Cooper, was thirty minutes late to my father's funeral. When the heavy cathedral doors finally opened, he wasn't there to comfort me. He was tightly shielding his mistress, Celeste, under his umbrella, treating her like a fragile lily while I stood alone in my black mourning dress. The whispers in the pews were deafening, but they were nothing compared to the truth I soon uncovered. Cooper hadn't just humiliated me-he had secretly taken my father's life-saving spot in a medical clinical trial and given it to Celeste's family. My father died gasping for air because of him. Days later, while I was shivering in the ER with a 103-degree fever, I saw Cooper sneaking into the VIP maternity ward. He was holding Celeste, his face glowing with the ecstatic joy of a man about to become a father. For three years, I swallowed my pride to be his perfect, obedient wife, only to let his elite friends openly mock me to my face. "You were just keeping the seat warm until the real queen came back." He let my father die, hid all our marital assets in offshore trusts, and made me take birth control every single morning, claiming he wasn't ready for kids. I didn't scream, and I didn't let him see me break. Instead, I hired Manhattan's most ruthless divorce lawyer, smiled sweetly as I handed Cooper his coat at home, and began secretly gathering the evidence to burn his entire empire to the ground.

My abusive step-family isolated me completely, holding my mother's medical funds hostage to control my every move. Yesterday, they finalized my sale. "You will marry Rudy Petrov next month. He is fifty, wealthy, and willing to overlook your lack of pedigree." Pushed to the absolute edge, I did the insane. I posted an ad online offering my life savings of $50,000 for a contract husband. A stranger named Brennan agreed. But my family wouldn't let me go. They forced me back for a dinner by threatening my mother's life-saving prescriptions. At the table, they relentlessly mocked my new "poor IT guy" husband and intentionally burned my hand with boiling tea. Worse, the housekeeper locked me in a guest room and forced drugs down my throat so Rudy could come in and assault me. I lay there paralyzed on the floor, bleeding from Rudy's slap, utterly terrified. I couldn't understand why my own family would throw me to the wolves, and I felt a crushing guilt for dragging an innocent, ordinary guy into my nightmare. Until a pitch-black Maybach smashed through the estate's wrought-iron gates at eighty miles an hour. My "poor" husband kicked the solid oak doors off their hinges, beat Rudy half to death, and carried me out into the rain. I didn't know it yet, but the ordinary man I hired to save me was a ruthless billionaire, and he was about to erase my family's entire empire by morning.

Bryn hovered as a translucent soul over her own fresh grave, just three days after she was buried. She had been shoved off a cliff by Keifer, the boyfriend she provided for, while her adopted sister Fabiola watched and laughed. Now, they stood at her grave crying fake tears, ready to steal her massive inheritance. Suddenly, Dominic Hutchinson, the arrogant school tyrant who made her life a living hell, arrived. He didn't come to mock her. He dug up her grave with his bare, bleeding hands, hugging her freezing urn as he sobbed in pure despair. He ruthlessly exposed Keifer and Fabiola's murder plot, sending them to federal prison. Three months later, Dominic stood before her rebuilt headstone in a pristine white tuxedo. "It's finally over. I can finally come pick you up." He pulled out a silver scalpel and slit his own wrist, leaving a bloody kiss above her carved name as he died. Bryn fell to her knees, screaming and sobbing uncontrollably. The boy she thought hated her had loved her with his entire life, while the parasites she trusted had killed her. Why had she been so utterly blind? A blinding light swallowed her soul, and Bryn suddenly snapped her eyes open. She was standing by her high school lockers, completely alive. She had returned to exactly three years before her death.

I was kneeling on the warped linoleum of my trailer, packing my life into a trash bag, when the predatory purr of a luxury SUV echoed through the thin walls. I thought it was a raid, but it was something much worse. Julian Sterling, a federal prosecutor in a charcoal suit, stepped into the mud and bought me from my alcoholic stepfather. He didn't use cash; he used a list of felonies and a legal settlement to trade my freedom for my stepfather's silence. "Throw it away," Julian ordered, pointing at the bag containing everything I owned. I watched my sister's stuffed bear fall into an oil puddle as he forced me into a world of cold leather and silence. By the time we reached Boston, Faith Vance was dead. He forced me to sign papers changing my name to Elara, erasing my past to fit a narrative of Swiss boarding schools and high-society breeding. The horror didn't stop there. The family patriarch, Arthur Sterling, looked at us with hawk-like eyes and issued a command that turned my blood to ice. To avoid scandal, Julian and I were to be introduced as "Brother" and "Sister." Julian's jaw tightened until a vein throbbed in his temple, and when he finally called me "Sister," the word sounded like a curse. I was a prisoner in a mansion with bars on the windows, caught between a "brother" who loathed my existence and a cousin who tried to assault me in my own room. They dressed me in silk armor and expected me to be a doll, a manageable piece of a legacy I never asked for. I sat at a dinner table worth more than my hometown, swallowing oysters that tasted like salt and iodine, while Julian created a physical barrier between me and the wolves. Under the tablecloth, I reached out and squeezed his clenched fist. His fingers uncurled and captured mine in a grip so crushing it felt like a pact signed in the dark. I have a jagged shard of glass in my pocket and five thousand dollars a month to hoard. Julian says the law is a weapon that breaks weak people, but he's about to find out that I'm not a lamb. I'm a survivor, and I'm ready for the casualties.

On my 24th birthday, my boyfriend of five years, Jackson, threw me a surprise party. The surprise was his wedding to another woman, Campbell. He claimed she was dying of cancer. In front of everyone, he denied our entire relationship, calling me his "little sister." When I confronted him, his violent shove caused me to lose our unborn child. I lost my love, my baby, and my job, all for a lie. Because Campbell wasn't dying. Her cancer was fake. But as they tried to destroy me, a powerful man named Cole Smith stepped in. At a charity gala, with his help, I played the security footage for the entire room to see-the footage of him pushing me, of me bleeding on the office floor. I held up the proof of her fake illness. "There's your truth, Jackson," I said, as his world came crashing down.

To escape the tragic legacy of my famous mother, I hid my identity, becoming a plain, forgettable film student. I fell hard for Hayes McCall, the campus playboy, believing our love was real. But he was just using me. I was a human shield, a decoy to protect the real object of his affection: the fragile campus "it-girl," Karmen. He let me get bullied and kidnapped. He stole my thesis film-a tribute to my mother's memory-and gave it to Karmen to claim as her own. When I tried to fight back, he destroyed my work, my past, everything. At graduation, my ex-roommate projected a video to the entire auditorium, branding me a high-class escort who slept with powerful men. "She's a disgrace!" she screamed, as the crowd turned on me. I calmly walked to the podium, my voice cutting through the noise. "You're accusing a Zamora of being a gold-digger?" I let the name hang in the air before delivering the final blow. "I don't climb the ladder. I am the ladder."

This Valentine's Day, I finally convinced my boyfriend of ten years, Ethan Hayes, to take me to that trendy new restaurant, the one with a six-month waitlist. It was our tenth anniversary, a big deal, and I thought maybe, just maybe, this time would be different. We had just sat down when his phone rang. It was Ashley Cooper. I heard Ethan say, "Don't be silly, you're more understanding than her. I'll be right back." He walked out and never returned. I sat there alone until the restaurant closed. He sent a text later: "Ashley isn't feeling well. I need to get her home safely. Take a cab home. Text me when you get there." I saw Ashley's social media post with pictures of them, new and old, captioned, "Never learned to grow up, but thankfully, there's always someone to tolerate my whims." Later, back at our apartment, I saw two figures getting into the elevator with Ethan. It had to be Ashley. He texted, "I'm tired. I don't want to fight tonight." I felt a crushing weight. After college, I had turned down a fantastic job offer to follow Ethan, giving up my dreams for his. I lost touch with most of my old friends. Now, I truly had nowhere to go. I had spent ten years waiting for him, helping him build his life and his business. I had been "understanding" and "obedient," always putting his needs first, only to be compared to Ashley, the woman he truly desired. Why did I sacrifice everything for him? That night, I picked up my phone and sent him two texts: "I don't want to be understanding anymore. Ethan, we're over." It was time to find out who Chloe Miller was without him.

I poured my heart and soul into Momentum Marketing, the agency my fiancé Mark and I had built. My loyalty to him ran deep, a bond forged over years. Then, Mark dropped a bomb: he slashed my salary by more than half, citing financial crisis. Days later, his chirpy executive assistant, Chloe, plastered Instagram with her brand-new Tesla, a "surprise bonus!" from the "best boss ever." My accidental "like" on her post triggered his rage. He publicly humiliated me, then docked my entire reduced monthly salary, gifting it to Chloe for "emotional distress." Utterly betrayed, I resigned, only for him to cold-bloodedly refuse severance. But his cruelty wasn't finished. After I left our condo, he lured me back under false pretenses, filming me to construct a malicious lawsuit, accusing me of corporate espionage. My name, my career, everything was smeared, a calculated ruin. They thought they' d finally destroy me in court. Instead, with undeniable evidence, my lawyer exposed their vile conspiracy, including Chloe's fake pregnancy. The truth exploded, leading to Mark's public breakdown and ultimate suicide. His will left me everything, a final, twisted apology. Now, I'm forging a new empire from the ashes, turning his toxic legacy into my own triumph.

Returning to my Chicago office after maternity leave, I craved the familiar rhythm of marketing and the comfort of normalcy. But on my very first day back, a strange woman from accounting, Brenda, confronted me with a bizarre, unsettling demand. Convinced my breast milk was the miraculous cure for her 19-year-old developmentally disabled son, Kevin, she insisted I provide it, "directly and on demand." My polite refusal ignited a terrifying, obsessive campaign of harassment. Brenda's actions escalated from chilling threats to physical confrontations, culminating in a horrifying ambush in the company lactation room. She deliberately tore my clothes, began filming, and shamelessly urged her large son to assault me for my milk. Even after this grotesque attack, HR downplayed it as a mere "workplace dispute," paralyzed by Brenda's expert manipulation of Kevin's disability and her theatrical victimhood. Police, overwhelmed by her counter-accusations and her son' s condition, offered no arrests, only warnings. I was left reeling, violated, and utterly betrayed by a system designed to protect employees. Brenda's smug victory, coupled with subtle, continued threats, pushed me to the brink. How could I be safe when my workplace allowed such depravity, bending to one woman' s deranged obsession? With official help impossible and my personal safety compromised, I realized I had to fight back on my own terms. My retired Marine Sergeant father and powerful football-player nephew became my unexpected allies. Brenda had declared war; I decided it was time to find my own weapons.

For seven years, I was Sarah Miller, the humble wife, playing along with my billionaire father's "test" to ensure my husband, David, valued me for himself, not my immense inheritance. Our Napa getaway was canceled for David's "urgent business trip," but a casual Instagram scroll shattered my world: a lavish party at my house, featuring my husband intimately with our housekeeper's daughter, Brittany, who flaunted my deceased grandmother's priceless Hamilton family heirloom bracelet. I returned home to find my house overrun, confronting David by the pool, his lips still on Brittany's. My slap silenced the crowd, but they quickly turned on me, throwing drinks and ripping my clothes, while David stood by, impassive, telling me, "Sarah, you're embarrassing yourself. Get out." The ultimate betrayal wasn't just his infidelity but his cold complicity; my husband, in my house, letting his mistress and her friends assault and humiliate me, all while my family's legacy mocked me from Brittany's wrist. Every insult fueled a cold, quiet fury. They had no idea who they were dealing with. I pulled out my phone and dialed 911, reporting trespass, assault, and the theft of a priceless heirloom. As David, still arrogant, handed me divorce papers, I made one last call: "Mike, it's Sarah. I need you. Code Hamilton."

I'm Evelyn Montgomery, the quiet apprentice in my family's art restoration studio. But I also secretly wield unchecked power as the sole trustee of the Montgomery Heritage Fund. My grandmother taught me to let them underestimate me; it's their first mistake. When Ashley Jenkins, a social climber obsessed with my grandnephew Connor, conspicuously excluded me from the gala committee, I simply smiled. Her sweet message about "curating" truly dedicated members was a clear jab. Then her casual cruelty turned vicious. She kicked my beloved Norwegian Forest cat, Duke, then brutally killed him. Her next move? Pepper-spraying me and literally shoving me into a filthy dog cage, firmly convinced I was a nobody. The physical pain burned, but the humiliation was a colder fire. I was left there, heartbroken and raw, my voice hoarse from crying and the acrid fumes. She had no idea the 'charity case' she'd tormented secretly controlled her entire future. My quiet fury solidified into an unshakeable resolve. As Ashley, cornered, invented a fake pregnancy and tried to snatch my family’s symbolic ring, thinking she’d won, a new voice cut through the chaos. "I believe that leadership is already well established." Ethan Sterling, head of the powerful Sterling family and my secret fiancé, stepped into view. He didn't just reveal our engagement; he unmasked me as the silent architect behind our family's greatest successes and his immense influence. Ashley's world, and everyone who stood by her in their casual dismissal, was about to crumble.

Zoe lost everything overnight. Her father was jailed. Her brother ran away and her best friend betrayed her. She was thrown into an abyss of despair. And the one responsible for this was none other than Larry, whose only aim was vengeance. She had tried to run away from him, but there was no way of getting rid of him. She was trapped in his cage of love and hate. When the truth was finally revealed, she realized that she had nothing to lose anymore. So she decided to avenge herself and take back everything.

Fear follows Alpha Samson wherever he goes. As the ruthless leader of the Blackthorn pack, he and his beast, Savage, bow to no one. But when a haunting scent leads him to a neighboring pack's dungeon, he finds his fated mate-bloody, broken, and chained to the wall. Alora is a half-wolf, half-witch hybrid falsely accused and left to die. But her abusers made one fatal mistake: they touched the mate of a monster. Rescued by the fierce Alpha, Alora begins a journey of healing that uncovers a lifetime of lies. She isn't just a survivor; she's a weapon. Together, Samson and Alora will unleash hell on those who wronged her, unearthing dark family secrets and claiming the crown that was stolen from her birth.

I was waiting at the Registry Hall to formalize my mate bond with Gabe, my childhood sweetheart and the Alpha of our pack. He was thirty-two minutes late. When I finally found him in a private VIP lounge, his hands were buried in my cousin's hair, their lips locked together. Hailee was supposed to be my maid of honor. Instead of apologizing, Gabe looked me dead in the eye and used his Alpha authority to publicly reject me. The severing of our ten-year bond tore my soul apart, but the nightmare didn't stop there. My grandfather immediately called, demanding I clean up a mess Hailee had made. When I refused, he disowned me on the spot, froze every single one of my bank accounts, and stripped me of my family name. Within hours, my entire pack erased my existence, gleefully announcing Hailee as their new Luna. I had given my entire life to a family and a man who discarded me like worthless trash the second I became inconvenient. I was left broken, humiliated, and utterly penniless in the blink of an eye. But as I stumbled out of that sterile hall, a terrifyingly beautiful stranger stepped out of the shadows, radiating a primal power that made my knees weak. He was Caden Sinclair, the ruthless Lycan King, and he was dodging a forced political union of his own. "You need a shield. I need a wife. Marry me." Without hesitation, I signed the Eternal Vow.

For three years, I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into building Blackwood Group for Alec, my Alpha and the man I thought was my mate. But on the day of our work anniversary, I stood outside his office door and heard him talking with his Beta, shattering my entire world. "Kay is just a wolfless Omega, useful for paperwork," Alec sneered coldly. "The bonding ceremony is just a show for the elders. The real Luna, the one who carries the bloodline that matters, is Breanne. I'm transferring all of Kay's core project files to Breanne tomorrow. Let her take the credit." He even texted me later, telling me to wear a blue dress to the upcoming gala because it made me look "obedient." I had turned down a Wharton scholarship for this man. I had spent countless nights fixing his mistakes, building his empire, and giving him my youth. Yet to him, I was nothing but a disposable placeholder, expected to smile and bow while another woman stole my life's work and my place by his side. The agonizing pain in my chest didn't break me; it forged me into ice. I didn't cry, and I certainly didn't beg. Instead, I wiped his servers clean of every strategy I had ever created, left a wax-sealed resignation on his desk, and accepted a job offer from his most ruthless rival.

I was three months pregnant when the car hit me. Lying there, barely hanging on, I called my husband-Alpha Ethan-over and over. No answer. When I finally woke up from the pain, I saw a post from his first love, Ivy. "Thank you, Alpha, for knowing how scared I am of the dark and staying with me all night. He even cleared his whole schedule today to take me to the auction, just to give me the best gift in the world. I'm so happy!" Right then, it hit me. While I was fighting to protect our child, he was with another she-wolf. I calmly liked her post and put my phone away. Since he chose his first love, I chose to let go. Seven days from now, I'd leave his world for good-with our child.

For years, Elara Park endured being called "half-breed" and "weak blood" at pack meetings. Because she was a hybrid wolf, she trusted Zack Blackwood's sweet promises. Then he rejected their fated mate bond moments after claiming her body. Before she could even breathe through the soul-crushing agony, the news was already celebrating his engagement to her vindictive stepsister, Selina. The headlines gushed about their "perfect pureblooded union." Her mother's call came like a final blow: "Elara, you're twenty-three now. It's time you contributed to the family." Marry the worthless second son of a prominent Alpha family or lose her father's empire forever. They had her trapped, ready to steal her birthright and leave her powerless. But as the heartbreak bled out, ice-cold determination took its place. Elara went to the arranged meeting at the city's most exclusive club, determined to turn her mother's matchmaking scheme to her advantage. She would agree to marriage-but on her own terms. When she found who she believed was Damian Sterling in the private suite, she cut straight to business: a contract marriage with clear boundaries, separate lives, and a guaranteed escape route. What she didn't know? The devastatingly dangerous man who'd just signed her contract with a predator's smile wasn't the pathetic playboy she expected. He was Dominic Wolfe-the Alpha King who'd been relentlessly hunting her for years. And now, she'd just signed herself over to him completely.

I died once before, framed for a murder that never happened. I am Princess Fiona Avery of the Blackwood Pack, forced by my father into a political union with Bowen Mayer, heir to a powerful house. In my first life, my husband's mistress faked a pregnancy, accused me of pushing her into a lake, and watched as I was condemned as a murderer. I spent my final days in a mental ward, broken and drugged, until a lethal injection silenced me forever. But the dead don't always stay dead. I opened my eyes on the very day it all went wrong. My tea was still laced with sedative. My husband's footsteps were already pounding down the hall. His weeping mistress was ready to play her part. This time, I don't beg. I don't cry. I don't kneel. I summon the ruthless Gamma of the royal Shadow Guard. I demand the pack doctor examine his precious lover-right here, in front of everyone. I stake my life on a wager I know I cannot lose. They think I'm still the weak, wolfless princess they once destroyed. They have no idea what I've become.

I was born to be Alpha Damien Carlisle's fated Luna. Instead, I lived like a stray dog in his pack. For one year, I watched everyone worship Lilith Vance, his fragile first love, while they mocked me as the barren mate he was too ashamed to mark. Then I learned the truth. His mother had been forcing brutal fertility herbs into my body. His sister threw an illegal sterility poison at me. And Damien, my own mate, had been secretly lacing my food with wolfsbane contraceptives for months. When I confronted him, he did not deny it. "I couldn't let you get pregnant," he said coldly. "If Lilith found out you were carrying my heir, the shock might kill her." I finally understood. I was never his Luna. I was his bloodline. His legal womb. His family's insurance policy. The moment Lilith coughed up blood, Damien abandoned me without looking back. So I ran to the capital and begged the Alpha King to grant me a formal Rejection. He threw my petition away unread. My mate had poisoned me. My pack had betrayed me. And the King himself refused to free me. Fine. If the law would not save me, I would save myself. In my past life, I had been a healer no one believed until it was too late. This time, I remembered everything. In seven days, at the Royal Hunt, the Alpha King would drink a silver poison designed to kill even a Lycan. No royal healer would be able to save him. But I would. I packed my surgical kit, disappeared into the city slums, and prepared the only cure in the kingdom. When the King lay dying, he would finally listen. And the price of his life would be simple. My freedom.

For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.

They don't know I'm a girl. They all look at me and see a boy. A prince. Their kind purchase humans like me for their lustful desires. And, when they stormed into our kingdom to buy my sister, I intervened to protect her. I made them take me too. The plan was to escape with my sister whenever we found a chance. How was I to know our prison would be the most fortified place in their kingdom? I was supposed to be on the sidelines. The one they had no real use for. The one they never meant to buy. But then, the most important person in their savage land-their ruthless beast king-took an interest in the "pretty little prince." How do we survive in this brutal kingdom, where everyone hates our kind and shows us no mercy? And how does someone, with a secret like mine, become a lust slave? . AUTHOR'S NOTE. This is a dark romance-dark, mature content. Highly rated 18+ Expect triggers, expect hardcore. If you're a seasoned reader of this genre, looking for something different, prepared to go in blindly not knowing what to expect at every turn, but eager to know more anyway, then dive in! . From the author of the international bestselling book: "The Alpha King's Hated Slave."

For years, I belonged to him. Not his mate. Not his love. But his bedmate. His Gamma. His shadow in the night. Alpha Calhoun made sure no man dared touch me, no wolf dared look at me. I was his possession, his secret, his sin wrapped in skin. And I endured it all-his rough hands, his dark devotion, his kisses that tasted like fire and chains because at least, for a while, he was mine. Until she returned. His destined mate. His so-called true love. And suddenly, I was nothing. Cast aside, silenced, left to wither in the shadows of a love that had never been mine to claim. But the thing about being claimed by a man like Calhoun. is that he never truly lets you go. "Try to leave me, Elodie," his voice had been a snarl against my throat, his grip bruising my waist. "I'll burn down every border, tear apart every wolf that stands in my way, until you crawl back to me. You're mine, even if the Moon Goddess herself wants to rip you away." He didn't know then that I already had one foot out the door. And when I finally left his pack. I took more than just my broken heart with me.