The Perfume of Betrayal

For five years, Liam was my world. I thought we were building a future, heading for marriage, and I even used my connections to get us VIP tickets to a tech conference-a power move for his career. Then, on the giant live-stream screen, I watched him kiss his new assistant, Sarah, a deep, passionate embrace for thousands to see. Hours later, after a dazed walk and a screech of tires, I woke up in a hospital, bruised, concussed, and staring at Liam, who casually informed me he had hit me with his car. He then lied to my face, claiming Sarah was just his boss, and somehow convinced the hospital I had amnesia, painting me as an unstable woman who' d simply "forgotten" our relationship. The humiliation deepened when I discovered his hidden journal-a five-year chronicle of how I was merely a "placeholder," a temporary fix until his true love, Sarah, returned. He tried to reconcile, offering money and calls, but his desperate attempts felt hollow against the truth: he had never seen me as a person, only a convenient stand-in. Then came the final blow: Sarah announced as the new Head of Architecture, taking the promotion I' d worked years for, a public, corporate execution. But just as I thought I' d lost everything, a forgotten connection resurfaced. My Uncle David' s persistent offer of an arranged marriage, a path I' d once dismissed, suddenly glimmered with an unexpected promise. Little did I know, the man I was about to meet wasn't just a family friend, but a quiet, constant presence from my past, ready to offer a future I never dared to dream of.

The dusty box held my father' s medal, a cold, heavy relic of a life shattered too soon. Then the call came – a hospital, an unfamiliar number, and the dreaded news: my brother, Michael, was brutally attacked, barely clinging to life. Memories flooded me: my father's dying wish to protect Michael, the years I spent raising him, only for this monstrous injustice to strike. General Sterling, my father's esteemed colleague, watched with unreadable eyes, while Thorne, the man responsible, sneered about a "bar fight" and sent me chilling threats. Police dismissed my pleas, the media shut down my story, and even Sterling' s socialite fiancée, Victoria, joined the chorus of dismissal, forcing me to confront Thorne alone and sparking a silent battle within me to unveil the truth my brother nearly died for.

The world was a blur of pain, and Kael, my fierce protector, was there to sweep me into his arms, just like always. He was my anchor, the man whose life was bound to mine by a rare, ancient Soul-Link—a sacrifice I'd made without a second thought to save him from poison years ago. I trusted him with my life, literally. Then I saw her. First in a terrifying nightmare, then in Kael's study, a cloaked figure handing him a mysterious ornate box. Her cold, regal eyes haunted my waking thoughts, but Kael swore I was dreaming, soothing my fears with familiar warmth and a tangible clue about my missing sister, Seraphina. He couldn't be lying, not when our very souls were linked. My trust shattered when I saw Lyra again, stepping out of a gilded carriage, announcing her engagement to Kael. They'd been engaged for years, uniting two powerful families. I was nothing but a temporary amusement, a pet he'd picked up. His betrayal sent a searing pain through my chest, amplified by the Soul-Link—a physical manifestation of my broken heart. How could he cause me such profound emotional agony, yet share my physical pain so deeply? The contradiction tore me apart. He looked at me with genuine worry, yet continued to lie, continuing this elaborate deception. Why? What was this bond to him? Just a burden? I found my answer, not in his words, but in the truth. The man with Lyra was his twin brother, a calculated deception to manage his political life. I wasn't just a secret; I was a fully separate life he was living. My heart shattered. I learned then that the "medicine" he gave me daily wasn't a cure for the Soul-Link's pain, but a slow poison, ensuring my dependence, my control. He blamed me for the link, twisting my sacrifice into a curse. So I ended it, plunging a letter opener into my own heart, severing the Soul-Link, and sending him an agonizing final message of shared oblivion.

The biting wind was a familiar friend, a stark contrast to the burning rage that had consumed me before I died. I remembered the lavish coming-out party for Chloe, the daughter I had poured eighteen years of love and wealth into. She stood on stage, under glittering chandeliers, and pointed to a famous actress, declaring her as her real mother. "My achievements are all thanks to my parents\' superior genes," Chloe' s voice, dripping with contempt, echoed in my memory. "You had nothing to do with it. You robbed me of eighteen years of mother-daughter bonding!" The crowd' s judgment turned into a torrent, fueled by my ex-boyfriend and Chloe' s biological father, Mark, who stood beside the actress, smirking. They had conspired to ruin me, take my company, and silence me forever. And they almost succeeded. They drove me to my death, celebrating as they moved into the home I had built. I died, consumed by betrayal and injustice, wondering why the world had allowed such a vile family to flourish at my expense. But then, I was back. Back to the very day it all began. The day Mark first brought a baby to my door, expecting me to clean up his mess. This time, things would be different.

The air in the penthouse reeked of success, a scent I barely remembered. Facing Liam Hayes, the tech titan I once knew as a struggling professor, I felt my nails dig into my palms. My design firm was ashes, my reputation ruined, and my father lay dying, all thanks to him. He offered me fifty thousand dollars-insulting, yet just enough for my father' s surgery-to marry a reclusive billionaire in his protégé's place. My pride was a luxury I couldn't afford. But as I clutched the check, a overheard conversation shattered everything: Liam' s revenge wasn' t heartbreak. He' d orchestrated my downfall, my company' s ruin, and even my father' s "accidents," wanting to see me broken and begging. Back at the hospital, fresh tests revealed the fifty thousand was a mere down payment; my father needed continuous, expensive care, or the surgery would only buy him months. Liam had known. He' d given me just enough hope to hang myself. Then, a friend revealed the final, devastating truth: Liam' s empire, everything he was, was built on my forgotten sacrifice-I' d anonymously funded his failing startup, selling my award-winning design to save him. The irony was a brutal blow, the realization that I had saved him, and in return, he had systematically destroyed me, my family, and even the child I didn' t know I carried, now lost to the stress he inflicted. My father' s life was still in Liam' s hands, a chilling reminder of my powerlessness. But when the call came, confirming my father' s death, Liam' s carefully constructed game shattered. He' d lost his leverage, and I, stripped of everything, suddenly found a terrifying, liberating freedom. The man who sought my ultimate suffering would now face my unyielding resolve.

The hospital room was a blank canvas compared to my mind-empty, save for the rhythmic beep of a machine. I was Ava, or so they said, suffering from amnesia after a car accident. Liam, my dashing fiancé, and Chloe, my teary-eyed sister, were constants by my side, weaving a perfect narrative of our lives: a successful businesswoman, heiress, engaged to be married. But their perfect picture began to fray. Fragments of memories, sharp and brutal, flashed in the dark: a swerving car, screeching tires, a look of terror-and something else-on Chloe' s face, Liam' s white-knuckled grip on the wheel. These didn't feel like accidents; they felt like lies. The diamond ring Liam pressed into my hand felt heavy and foreign, a symbol of a life that wasn't mine. Then, the shattering realization: a faded photo, Liam leaning into Chloe, a shared secret smile, while I stood between them, an outsider. The truth began to surface, cold and undeniable. The accident wasn't an accident. Liam and Chloe, my supposed loved ones, were conspirators, their devotion a carefully crafted facade. He was cheating with my sister, and I was merely a pawn in their scheme to seize my family' s fortune. The "caring" gestures, the possessive touches – they were traps. The house, our supposed home, became a gilded cage. How could I have been so blind? How could the two people closest to me orchestrate such a cruel betrayal, even attempting to end my life? The indignity burned, replaced by a searing clarity: I was not a victim, but a survivor. With a throbbing arm and a heart hardened by rage, I knew I couldn' t stay. This wasn't just about reclaiming my memories; it was about exposing their deception and forging a new path, a life on my own terms, free from their lies.

"I, Erika Blackwood, stand before you, Alexander Robertson, with a heavy heart. I hereby reject you as my mate. The bond we once shared has grown fragile, and my soul yearns for a different path. May you find solace in the love of another, and may we both find the happiness we seek." Alexander didn't say a word and looked at me. But he refused to accept. *********** Erika Blackwood is the next Alpha in line of the Ironclaw Pack. She hides her identity and gets mated to the Alpha of the Moonforest Pack, Alexander Robertson. Three years passed, but Alexander is still unwilling to let go of his childhood sweetheart. Erika is mistreated and eventually framed by the same childhood sweetheart. Now she leaves with that humiliation, and goes back to her pack, swearing vengeance on those who hurt her. They all waited for her to return and beg, but what happens when they realize that the famous Ironclaw Pack that was going to help in the rogue war, was ruled by a woman named, Erika Blackwood. Now her Ex mates want her back. Other Alphas want this woman.. But will she accept any of them? Or will she stay independent forever?...

In order to fulfill her grandfather's last wish, Stella entered into a hasty marriage with an ordinary man she had never met before. However, even after becoming husband and wife on paper, they each led separate lives, barely crossing paths. A year later, Stella returned to Seamarsh City, hoping to finally meet her mysterious husband. To her astonishment, he sent her a text message, unexpectedly pleading for a divorce without ever having met her in person. Gritting her teeth, Stella replied, "So be it. Let’s get a divorce!" Following that, Stella made a bold move and joined the Prosperity Group, where she became a public relations officer that worked directly for the company’s CEO, Matthew. The handsome and enigmatic CEO was already bound in matrimony, and was known to be unwaveringly devoted to his wife in private. Unbeknownst to Stella, her mysterious husband was actually her boss, in his alternate identity! Determined to focus on her career, Stella deliberately kept her distance from the CEO, although she couldn't help but notice his deliberate attempts to get close to her. As time went on, her elusive husband had a change of heart. He suddenly refused to proceed with the divorce. When would his alternate identity be uncovered? Amidst a tumultuous blend of deception and profound love, what destiny awaited them?

Forced out of a mental hospital by her family, Nicole was made to marry Aidan-reputed to be disabled-in her sister's place. The public ridiculed their union: a so-called lunatic and a cripple. What they didn't know was that Nicole had a sharp mind, countless talents, and secret identities. High society sneered at her unruly behavior, but Aidan always took her side. "My wife is too fragile to hurt anyone," he'd say. But soon- "Sir, your wife destroyed someone's house!" "Let her." "Sir, your wife ran away!" He arrived at the airport with two adorable kids in tow, pleading, "Sweetheart, come back. You can punish me however you want." Nicole froze. Wait-where did these two adorable little troublemakers come from?

"You're mine, little puppy," Kylan growled against my neck. A soft gasp escaped my lips as his lips brushed my skin. My mind screamed at me to push him away-the Lycan Prince who had humiliated me again and again, but my body betrayed me, leaning into him before I could stop myself. He pressed his lips against mine, and his kiss grew more aggressive, more possessive as I felt my legs weaken. What was I doing? In a split-second, I pulled away and slapped him hard across the face. Kylan's eyes darkened, but the smirk on his lips exposed his amusement. "You and I both know we can't fight this, Violet," he said, gripping my wrist. "You're my mate." "And yet you don't want me," I replied. "You told me you were ashamed of me, that l'd never be your queen, that you'd never love me. So please, accept my rejection and let me go." "Never," he whispered, his grip tightening as he pulled me closer. "Soon enough, you'll be begging for me. and when you do-I'll use you as I see fit and then I'll reject you."

"Ms. Crawford, it’s time for you to divorce Mr. Larsen and come home. You're the only heiress the Master's waiting for.” ~•~ For the sake of love, Amara accepted the arranged marriage with Tobias William Larsen. She did everything to gain her husband’s heart but when his old love returned, she realized that all her effort was all for naught. Tobias demanded a divorce on the night of their wedding anniversary, even at the price of threatening her. Heartbroken, she finally dropped all her illusions about him and returned home to be the heiress. The next time she met Tobias, they were no longer couples but opponents. "Mr. Larsen, should I remind you again? We've divorced." "Amara, that's the stupidest mistake I've ever made. Please come back to me."

Abandoned as a child and orphaned by murder, Kathryn swore she'd reclaim every shred of her stolen birthright. When she returned, society called her an unpolished love-child, scoffing that Evan had lost his mind to marry her. Only Evan knew the truth: the quiet woman he cradled like porcelain hid secrets enough to set the city trembling. She doubled as a legendary healer, an elusive hacker, and the royal court's favorite perfumer. At meetings, the directors groaned at the lovey-dovey couple, "Does she really have to be here?" Evan shrugged. "Happy wife, happy life." Soon her masks fell, and those who sneered bowed in awe.