/1/120272/coverbig.jpg?v=577a51edb353e38ba0226c4f0c853e34)
Three years ago, I was framed for drugging an Alpha heir and locked away in a sterile mental institute by my own family. Today, my older brother finally brought me home, but not to save me. "You will make a public apology to Spencer tonight, or you go right back to the asylum." He forced me to attend my adopted sister Yara's engagement party to confess my 'crimes' to the very man she claimed I tried to assault. I was treated worse than a stray dog. I had to use the servants' entrance, wear a cheap maid's dress, and was nearly strangled by my other brother just for showing my face. My parents watched coldly, only caring about protecting Yara's perfect image. But none of that compared to the heartbreak of finding my twin brother, Caleb. The only person who ever loved me was now permanently paralyzed in a wheelchair. A werewolf should heal from any physical injury. But Caleb told me his brakes failed right after he demanded the pack investigate my wrongful confinement, and a mysterious poison was now suppressing his healing. It wasn't an accident. It was a calculated plot to destroy the only two legitimate heirs, all to pave the way for Yara's perfect life. Looking at my twin's broken body, the despair in my heart cooled into a diamond-sharp resolve. I will find a cure for him, and I will make every single person who did this to us pay a hundred times over.
Contents
The Alpha's Broken But Defiant Mate Chapter 1
Estella POV:
The snow-capped peaks of Aspen Creek were a cruel joke, a beautiful lie framed by the window of my sterile, white hell.
I dug my fingernails into my palm. The sharp, grounding pain anchored me against the dizzying white walls, white floors, white ceiling. White sheets. Three years of white. Designed to soothe, to calm-but all it did was erase you. Three years. One thousand and ninety-five days. Every single one a battle to remember my own name.
A harsh clatter of metal on ceramic shattered my fragile peace.
Nurse Hayes stood in the doorway, a tray in her hands and a smirk as sharp and sterile as the room itself. She was built like a linebacker and moved with deliberate heaviness meant to intimidate.
"Medication time, dearie," she cooed, slamming the tray onto the bedside table. White pills rattled in a tiny paper cup.
She leaned in close, her breath reeking of stale coffee and malice. "You know, today is a very special day. It's Miss Yara's birthday. The real Miss Blackwood."
Her words were daggers. Each one a reminder of my place. The imposter. The broken thing in the attic.
"They say she's getting a diamond bracelet from Spencer Sterling himself." Hayes's eyes glittered. "Imagine that. A man who actually wants her. Not like some desperate little Omega who has to drug an Alpha just to get him to look at her."
The words hit like silver-tipped arrows. But I had learned. My wolf and I had become experts at swallowing poison and smiling.
"I'm sure she's having a lovely party," Hayes continued. "You should be grateful that such a kind soul is willing to even acknowledge you exist."
She shoved the paper cup toward me. I said nothing. Silence was my only shield.
My eyes flickered to her pristine uniform. On her shoulder, a single long strand of blonde hair. Not hers. A trophy, deliberately placed. A taunt from a male visitor she'd entertained-a reminder of the life I was denied.
I took the cup, movements slow and deliberate. I tipped the pills onto my tongue, took the water, and swallowed. A performance honed over a thousand bitter mornings.
"Open up."
I parted my lips. She peered inside, her fat finger prodding my cheek. My muscles, trained by desperation, held the pills pinned behind my gums where she would never find them.
Satisfied, she grunted. "Good girl."
She walked out, humming an off-key "Happy Birthday" as the heavy door clicked shut.
The moment I was alone, I scrambled to the bathroom and spat the bitter pills into the sink. They swirled down the drain with cold water.
My reflection stared back-a pale, hollow-eyed ghost. But the fire in her eyes still burned. They hadn't broken me. Not yet.
"I am Estella Blackwood," I whispered to the mirror. "And one day, every single one of them will pay."
Suddenly, a piercing alarm blared through the facility. The VIP alert. Someone important was here. Lockdown.
A cold dread trickled down my spine. That level of response could only mean one thing.
The Blackwoods.
Footsteps in the hallway. Expensive shoes on linoleum. The sycophantic voice of Warden Miller.
"Alpha Declan, it is an honor. A true honor to have you visit us. We've taken the utmost care of her, of course."
The footsteps stopped. Directly outside my door.
My heart hammered against my ribs. I held my breath.
The lock clicked. The door swung open.
Declan Blackwood. My older brother.
He stood framed in the doorway, a monument of cold power in a tailored suit that cost more than my entire three-year stay in this hellhole. Dark hair perfectly styled. Face a mask of aristocratic indifference. Behind him, Warden Miller beamed, his smile grotesque and greasy.
Declan's eyes, the same stormy gray as our father's, swept over me with no recognition. No kinship. He looked at me the way one looks at furniture that needs to be moved.
"Estella," he said, voice flat. "Get your things. You're leaving."
The world tilted. Leaving? Freedom?
It was a trap. It had to be.
I found my voice, rusty and unused. "Why?"
A flicker of annoyance crossed his features. "It's a family decision."
"What's the condition?" I met his icy gaze. My family never gave anything for free.
A corner of his mouth lifted in a sneer. He was amused by my audacity.
He stepped into the room, expensive cologne and power filling the sterile air.
"Tonight is Yara's birthday gala. You will attend. And in front of all our guests, you will make a public apology to Spencer Sterling for what you did three years ago."
The air rushed from my lungs. My blood turned to ice.
A public apology.
Admitting it. Admitting I was the monster they painted me as. A crazed she-wolf who tried to force a mating.
My wolf howled inside me-pure, primal rage. Kneel before the people who destroyed me? The injustice burned through my veins like liquid silver.
But I was no longer the naive girl they locked away. Three years had taught me the art of survival. And survival meant knowing when to bare your throat-and when to go for the jugular.
I searched his face for any flicker of hesitation, of doubt, of brotherly compassion. Nothing. Only unyielding ice.
This wasn't a rescue. It was a different kind of cage. A public humiliation served on a silver platter. The price for my freedom.
Warden Miller chimed in. "Your family has been so generous, Estella. You should learn to be more grateful."
Down the hall, Nurse Hayes peered around a corner, her face raw with venomous jealousy.
Let her be jealous. Let her rot here. I was getting out-and I was never coming back.
I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. The humiliation. The rage. The bitter despair. I packed it all down deep where they couldn't see it.
This was my only way out.
I lifted my chin and met my brother's cold eyes.
"Fine."
Declan's expression didn't change, but satisfaction flickered in his gaze. He had what he came for. The compliant little doll.
He turned to leave. "You have five minutes."
The door closed. I was alone once more in the suffocating white.
But this time, something had changed. The white walls were no longer a cage.
They were the starting line.
View More Comments on App
Other books by Su Liao
More/1/114462/coverbig.jpg?v=150de2d989144632b0522ab5643fcedf)
My Awakening: His World Falls Apart
ModernMy husband Hudson had kept me a medicated ghost for three years, convinced I was unstable. But a cheap pink hair clip, tangled with golden blonde hair in his car, ripped through the chemical haze. The bitter pill he forced me to take wouldn't numb the burning truth, only fuel my awakening. I was an architect once, but now I was just Cora, a docile wife trapped in his suffocating world. When he saw my shock, his concern was sickeningly sweet as he offered another Xanax. I pretended to swallow the poison, letting it dissolve under my tongue, a constant reminder of my awakening. Back at the mansion, his massive car deliberately blocked mine, a crude barricade confirming his control. Then, a message from an old intern confirmed my darkest fears: this was domestic abuse. He urged me to check Hudson’s closet, to record everything. I knew then I was living with a dangerous monster, and my denial shattered. The anger burned, fueled by the bitter taste of that undissolved pill. That night, Hudson walked in, wearing a hideous, sloppily tied red polka-dot tie. It was a clear, undeniable sign of another woman. My architect’s mind was awake, cold and calculating. "Game on, Hudson." I would make him taste this bitterness back a thousand times.
/1/113873/coverbig.jpg?v=0f99e7f3f77434114323b4840a8f65d5)
Trapped By The Ruthless Billionaire Heir
BillionairesI am a widow trapped in the powerful McMahon family, relying solely on my late husband's trust fund to survive. But my biggest nightmare isn't my cruel in-laws; it's Kain, the ruthless heir to the empire. He just announced his engagement to a perfect, wealthy socialite, yet he refuses to let me go. He dragged me into the shadows at his own engagement party, bruising my wrists and branding my neck, warning me that I will always belong to him. When my mother-in-law spotted the hickey Kain left on me, she assumed I was just sleeping around. To keep my trust fund under her control, she forced me to marry Spencer, a sleazy, useless cousin. I desperately agreed to the arrangement, hoping that becoming a married woman would finally make me off-limits to Kain. But I underestimated a madman's obsession. Kain crashed our matchmaking dinner at the private club. With a single sentence, he bankrupted Spencer's company, terrifying him into giving me up. "Do you really think you're worthy of a McMahon widow?" He has everything—the power, the money, the perfect fiancée. Why won't he just leave me alone? Why must he keep me locked in this suffocating cage? As Kain's leg hooked around my ankle under the table, trapping me right in front of his oblivious family, a cold realization washed over me. Running from the devil wasn't going to work. If I ever wanted to be free, I would have to destroy him.
/1/113769/coverbig.jpg?v=3dce4fe58daf3aaf5bbfc28c4923ec6f)
The Unwanted Wife: No Longer His Shield
BillionairesAryanna sat in the freezing rain, watching her billionaire husband of two years gently tuck a stray hair behind his mistress's ear. But the ultimate betrayal didn't come from her marriage. A DNA test suddenly revealed she wasn't the real Garza heiress, but a worthless orphan swapped at birth by a vengeful nurse. Her adoptive parents immediately froze her trust funds and disowned her, ordering her to play the perfect wife just to secure a corporate merger. Stripped of her family and wealth, Aryanna thought her husband might finally show some pity. Instead, she overheard him talking to his friends in a private VIP room. "She is the perfect shield. As long as the media and my family are focused on tearing Aryanna apart, Kaylen stays safe." The truth shattered her completely. She wasn't a wife. She was just a meat shield meant to draw the fire away from his true love. When Aryanna later confronted the mistress, the woman faked a pathetic panic attack. Without a second thought, her husband shoved Aryanna's best friend into a wall and looked at Aryanna with absolute disgust, calling her a vicious monster. Why was she suffering all the abuse while a professional con artist got all his protection and love? The broken, desperate wife died in that hallway. Aryanna swung her arm and slapped his face with every ounce of strength she had left. "The subpoena for the divorce will be on your desk tomorrow morning." She turned her back on the billionaire and walked away. This time, she was done playing the victim.
/1/108220/coverbig.jpg?v=20260527231856)
The Fake Heiress: Captured By Her Warden
ModernI was a ghost in the rafters of Sotheby’s, five floors above the most expensive pavement in New York, clutching a ten-million-dollar ledger hidden inside a drop of blood-red agate. I had the perfect exit planned, but I didn't count on Harding Bishop, a security predator who could track a shadow through a rainstorm. When the exits were sealed and the tactical teams started swarming, I made a split-second choice to survive. I stepped out of the shadows and looked into the eyes of a billionaire socialite searching for her missing daughter, whispering a single, broken word: "Mom?" Just like that, I wasn't a thief anymore; I was Cassandra Sterling, the heiress who had been gone for five years. But the homecoming was a nightmare. My new "sister" promised to send me back to the gutter, my "father" held a gold-plated pistol to my knee the moment the limo doors closed, and the family patriarch tried to strike me down with his cane just for breathing his air. Every second was a high-wire act. I had to play the part of a traumatized victim while a ten-million-dollar stone was literally sewn into the raw, bleeding wound on my shoulder. If I moved wrong, I’d bleed out; if I spoke wrong, I’d be buried in the backyard of the Hamptons estate. Harding Bishop didn't believe a word of it. He moved into the room next to mine, watching my every breath and checking my hands for gun calluses under the guise of protection. He thinks he’s the warden and I’m his prisoner, but he’s about to find out that a cornered rat is the most dangerous thing in the house. "Sleep tight, Vesper," he whispered as he locked my door, using my real name for the first time. He thinks he’s won, but he has no idea that I’m already reaching for the Agate hidden under my pillow, ready to burn his empire to the ground.
/1/106588/coverbig.jpg?v=6ad077eae5a6cf0efd0a52ce67baf276)
Jilted Heiress: Rising From The Ashes
ModernI stood in the center of my Manhattan penthouse, staring at the empty satin hanger where my custom Vera Wang gown should have been. It was a masterpiece of silk and pearls that had taken six months to perfect for my wedding to the billionaire heir, Boston Travis. Then my phone buzzed. Boston’s voice was a flat line, devoid of the love he’d promised me for four years. "The wedding is off, Florrie. I’m marrying your sister, Asia." He told me Asia was dying of Stage 4 cancer and her "final wish" was to be a bride—wearing my dress. He had sent his security team to my home with a spare key to steal the gown, claiming it was Travis property since his family accounts paid the bill. My stepmother texted me minutes later, demanding I vacate my own beach house so the "dying" girl could have a honeymoon. When I tried to protest, Boston snapped at me. "How could you be so heartless? She’s your sister. Have some compassion." They expected me to play the part of the discarded woman while they paraded my life around as a PR stunt. I realized then that Asia hadn't just taken my dress; she had spent her entire life stealing my father's love and my peace, always playing the fragile angel while I was cast as the villain. I didn't cry. I sat at my desk, opened my contacts, and relabeled Boston Travis as "TARGET." If they wanted a tragic story, I would give them a massacre. I reclaimed my mother’s multi-million dollar trust, seized the deed to the beach house, and walked into Asia’s hospital room with a lit sparkler to expose the truth behind her "terminal" illness. As I slapped Boston in the hospital lobby in front of a dozen recording iPhones, I realized I didn't need a husband. I needed a clean slate—and I was going to burn their empire to get it.
/1/103612/coverbig.jpg?v=d943f17550c994ec3a2bfa678b54c00b)
My Protector: The Billionaire's Hidden Devotion
ModernIn my last life, I was played for a fool by my charming fiancé, Curtis, and my jealous cousin, Chloe. He promised me the world, but it was all a beautiful illusion built on lies. He stole my ideas, shattered my reputation, and left me broken and alone. My death was ruled an "accident," but I knew the truth. They had orchestrated it all. Chloe, my own cousin, stood by his side, watching with twisted satisfaction as my world burned. They took everything from me-my career, my dignity, and finally, my life. The betrayal was a cold rage that settled deep in my bones. I couldn't understand how I had been so blind to the monster hiding behind his perfect smile. Now, I've opened my eyes to a second chance. I'm back at the beginning, forced to choose a husband to save my family's failing company. On one side is Curtis, the charming serpent who destroyed me. On the other is the cold, ruthless Arjun Becker, a man who promises security, but at what cost? This time, I won't be a fool. I know exactly who to choose.
