Mario Cass Karlaea

My boyfriend, the heir to a bourbon dynasty, called and ordered me to go apologize to his blue-blooded fiancée. I hung up and blocked him. Just hours earlier, I had won the highest honor in the whiskey world for his family. Then he announced his engagement to another woman in the morning paper, all so he could inherit the family fortune. He’d even tried to gaslight me over the phone. “It’s just a business arrangement. You’re the only woman I love! Once I get the trust, I’ll marry you!” He thought I loved him enough to have no dignity left. He thought the only thing he’d thrown away was a girlfriend without the right last name. He would find out soon enough. What he had smashed with his own hands was his family’s only future. … A moment later, an unfamiliar number lit up my screen. I answered, and Grayson Hayes’s voice came through at once, tight with anger. “Clara, how many times do I have to explain this?” “I already told you, Savannah and I are just a business move. It’s to unlock the family trust. Do you really have to be this petty?” “I promised you, once I have everything, it’ll be our turn. What more do you want from me?” “There’s a limit to this tantrum. You can’t just joke about breaking up whenever you feel like it.” I gripped my phone so tightly my knuckles went white. The glaring newspaper spread flashed before my eyes again. For the past ten years, being with Grayson had been my life’s sole ambition. In my private notebook, I had filled page after page with inspiration for hundreds of new releases, each marked with the year, barrel type, and projected flavor curve. Every one of them had been for the future of the Hayes family, and for the future I thought I shared with him. But every time I tried to move our relationship forward, Grayson had an excuse. At first, it was, “Those old men on the board haven’t accepted you yet. Wait until this new release wins gold. That’ll shut them up.” To secur......

A strange bottle of potion came into my possession. Whoever drank it would fall in love with the person who gave it to them. I didn’t hesitate. I drank it myself. This time, I chose myself. I chose to love myself. See you tomorrow, Ophelia. ... In my last life. After Reed Pierce cheated on me, a bottle of potion somehow fell into my hands. It was a small, clear bottle filled with a shimmering blue liquid. A nearly illegible label clung to the glass: “Whoever drinks this water will fall in love with the person who gives it to them.” Back then, I saw it as my last chance. I pinned every last scrap of hope on it. The next morning, I poured the potion into Reed’s coffee. It worked quickly. He slowly pulled away from that woman and turned his attention back to me. He started remembering our anniversaries. He brought home flowers. At night, when he held me, he’d whisper the sweet things he hadn’t said in years. It was as if we had gone back to the beginning. Everyone thought Reed was deeply in love with me. Only I knew it wasn’t his choice. It was a love I had coerced. Every time he held me, every time he kissed me, the images of him with another woman would flash through my mind. When he murmured sweet nothings, I could only wonder if he had said the same things to her. Worse, I lived in constant fear. If he spoke to another woman for work. If his phone lit up with a notification. If anyone he’d once flirted with appeared in the same room. I would tense up. Was the potion wearing off? Was he going to leave me again? I became someone I barely recognized. The smallest thing could send me spiraling. If Reed zoned out for a few seconds, or if his reply lacked a certain warmth, I would obsess for hours over whether he’d stopped loving me. Then, I got pregnant. The happiness was fleeting, quickly crushed by a familiar dread. What if the potion finally wore of......

My daughter came home from her cub class and said to me, completely out of the blue, “Mommy, you should divorce Daddy.” I froze, the apron still in my hands. “Why?” Lily lifted her small, soft face to mine. “Because Daddy doesn’t love us,” she said quietly. “He only loves Ivan, and Ivan’s mom.” “You don’t say it, but I know.” “Last time, when Daddy got his year-end bonus, you wanted to sign me up for piano. But Aunt Vivian just had to cry, and Daddy sent all the money to her and Ivan instead.” “And on your birthday, Daddy had already ordered you that moonstone bracelet, but when Ivan threw a fit, he gave it to Vivian to make her feel better.” “He’s always kicking you out of the Blackwood pack-house group, too. Every single time, you have to beg him to add you back.” “If you’re only staying with him because of me, then… then I don’t want you to. I just want you to be happy.” I couldn’t hear the rest of what she said. The tears came first. The Blackwood pack-house group was the private chat for the Alpha's residence. His parents, his ex-wife, his heir—they were all in it. Even the housekeeper. Getting kicked out was a public declaration: you didn’t belong in the pack house. And I had been kicked out twenty-seven times. In five years of marriage, Adrian had never given me a claim mark, never acknowledged me as his Luna before the Moon Goddess. All I ever got was a placating, “Wait a little longer.” I had waited five years. That night, Lily ate the last roasted chicken leg—Ivan’s favorite—and Adrian kicked me out of the pack-house group for the twenty-eighth time. His message was cold. “When you’ve taught her to respect her elders and the future Alpha, I’ll add you back.” A few minutes later, Vivian posted a story, clearly timed for maximum effect. “Someone’s been living in the pack house for five years and still can’t hold her spot in the family chat. I wonder who?” I stared at the words, my stomach twis......

My daughter came home from her cub class and said to me, completely out of the blue, “Mommy, you should divorce Daddy.” I froze, the apron still in my hands. “Why?” Lily lifted her small, soft face to mine. “Because Daddy doesn’t love us,” she said quietly. “He only loves Ivan, and Ivan’s mom.” “You don’t say it, but I know.” “Last time, when Daddy got his year-end bonus, you wanted to sign me up for piano. But Aunt Vivian just had to cry, and Daddy sent all the money to her and Ivan instead.” “And on your birthday, Daddy had already ordered you that moonstone bracelet, but when Ivan threw a fit, he gave it to Vivian to make her feel better.” “He’s always kicking you out of the Blackwood pack-house group, too. Every single time, you have to beg him to add you back.” “If you’re only staying with him because of me, then… then I don’t want you to. I just want you to be happy.” I couldn’t hear the rest of what she said. The tears came first. The Blackwood pack-house group was the private chat for the Alpha's residence. His parents, his ex-wife, his heir—they were all in it. Even the housekeeper. Getting kicked out was a public declaration: you didn’t belong in the pack house. And I had been kicked out twenty-seven times. In five years of marriage, Adrian had never given me a claim mark, never acknowledged me as his Luna before the Moon Goddess. All I ever got was a placating, “Wait a little longer.” I had waited five years. That night, Lily ate the last roasted chicken leg—Ivan’s favorite—and Adrian kicked me out of the pack-house group for the twenty-eighth time. His message was cold. “When you’ve taught her to respect her elders and the future Alpha, I’ll add you back.” A few minutes later, Vivian posted a story, clearly timed for maximum effect. “Someone’s been living in the pack house for five years and still can’t hold her spot in the family chat. I wonder who?” I stared at the words, my stomach twis......

My daughter came home from her cub class and said to me, completely out of the blue, “Mommy, you should divorce Daddy.” I froze, the apron still in my hands. “Why?” Lily lifted her small, soft face to mine. “Because Daddy doesn’t love us,” she said quietly. “He only loves Ivan, and Ivan’s mom.” “You don’t say it, but I know.” “Last time, when Daddy got his year-end bonus, you wanted to sign me up for piano. But Aunt Vivian just had to cry, and Daddy sent all the money to her and Ivan instead.” “And on your birthday, Daddy had already ordered you that moonstone bracelet, but when Ivan threw a fit, he gave it to Vivian to make her feel better.” “He’s always kicking you out of the Blackwood pack-house group, too. Every single time, you have to beg him to add you back.” “If you’re only staying with him because of me, then… then I don’t want you to. I just want you to be happy.” I couldn’t hear the rest of what she said. The tears came first. The Blackwood pack-house group was the private chat for the Alpha's residence. His parents, his ex-wife, his heir—they were all in it. Even the housekeeper. Getting kicked out was a public declaration: you didn’t belong in the pack house. And I had been kicked out twenty-seven times. In five years of marriage, Adrian had never given me a claim mark, never acknowledged me as his Luna before the Moon Goddess. All I ever got was a placating, “Wait a little longer.” I had waited five years. That night, Lily ate the last roasted chicken leg—Ivan’s favorite—and Adrian kicked me out of the pack-house group for the twenty-eighth time. His message was cold. “When you’ve taught her to respect her elders and the future Alpha, I’ll add you back.” A few minutes later, Vivian posted a story, clearly timed for maximum effect. “Someone’s been living in the pack house for five years and still can’t hold her spot in the family chat. I wonder who?” I stared at the words, my stomach twis......

My daughter came home from her cub class and said to me, completely out of the blue, “Mommy, you should divorce Daddy.” I froze, the apron still in my hands. “Why?” Lily lifted her small, soft face to mine. “Because Daddy doesn’t love us,” she said quietly. “He only loves Ivan, and Ivan’s mom.” “You don’t say it, but I know.” “Last time, when Daddy got his year-end bonus, you wanted to sign me up for piano. But Aunt Vivian just had to cry, and Daddy sent all the money to her and Ivan instead.” “And on your birthday, Daddy had already ordered you that moonstone bracelet, but when Ivan threw a fit, he gave it to Vivian to make her feel better.” “He’s always kicking you out of the Blackwood pack-house group, too. Every single time, you have to beg him to add you back.” “If you’re only staying with him because of me, then… then I don’t want you to. I just want you to be happy.” I couldn’t hear the rest of what she said. The tears came first. The Blackwood pack-house group was the private chat for the Alpha's residence. His parents, his ex-wife, his heir—they were all in it. Even the housekeeper. Getting kicked out was a public declaration: you didn’t belong in the pack house. And I had been kicked out twenty-seven times. In five years of marriage, Adrian had never given me a claim mark, never acknowledged me as his Luna before the Moon Goddess. All I ever got was a placating, “Wait a little longer.” I had waited five years. That night, Lily ate the last roasted chicken leg—Ivan’s favorite—and Adrian kicked me out of the pack-house group for the twenty-eighth time. His message was cold. “When you’ve taught her to respect her elders and the future Alpha, I’ll add you back.” A few minutes later, Vivian posted a story, clearly timed for maximum effect. “Someone’s been living in the pack house for five years and still can’t hold her spot in the family chat. I wonder who?” I stared at the words, my stomach twis......

A strange bottle of potion came into my possession. Whoever drank it would fall in love with the person who gave it to them. I didn’t hesitate. I drank it myself. This time, I chose myself. I chose to love myself. See you tomorrow, Ophelia. ... In my last life. After Reed Pierce cheated on me, a bottle of potion somehow fell into my hands. It was a small, clear bottle filled with a shimmering blue liquid. A nearly illegible label clung to the glass: “Whoever drinks this water will fall in love with the person who gives it to them.” Back then, I saw it as my last chance. I pinned every last scrap of hope on it. The next morning, I poured the potion into Reed’s coffee. It worked quickly. He slowly pulled away from that woman and turned his attention back to me. He started remembering our anniversaries. He brought home flowers. At night, when he held me, he’d whisper the sweet things he hadn’t said in years. It was as if we had gone back to the beginning. Everyone thought Reed was deeply in love with me. Only I knew it wasn’t his choice. It was a love I had coerced. Every time he held me, every time he kissed me, the images of him with another woman would flash through my mind. When he murmured sweet nothings, I could only wonder if he had said the same things to her. Worse, I lived in constant fear. If he spoke to another woman for work. If his phone lit up with a notification. If anyone he’d once flirted with appeared in the same room. I would tense up. Was the potion wearing off? Was he going to leave me again? I became someone I barely recognized. The smallest thing could send me spiraling. If Reed zoned out for a few seconds, or if his reply lacked a certain warmth, I would obsess for hours over whether he’d stopped loving me. Then, I got pregnant. The happiness was fleeting, quickly crushed by a familiar dread. What if the potion finally wore of......

A strange bottle of potion came into my possession. Whoever drank it would fall in love with the person who gave it to them. I didn’t hesitate. I drank it myself. This time, I chose myself. I chose to love myself. See you tomorrow, Ophelia. ... In my last life. After Reed Pierce cheated on me, a bottle of potion somehow fell into my hands. It was a small, clear bottle filled with a shimmering blue liquid. A nearly illegible label clung to the glass: “Whoever drinks this water will fall in love with the person who gives it to them.” Back then, I saw it as my last chance. I pinned every last scrap of hope on it. The next morning, I poured the potion into Reed’s coffee. It worked quickly. He slowly pulled away from that woman and turned his attention back to me. He started remembering our anniversaries. He brought home flowers. At night, when he held me, he’d whisper the sweet things he hadn’t said in years. It was as if we had gone back to the beginning. Everyone thought Reed was deeply in love with me. Only I knew it wasn’t his choice. It was a love I had coerced. Every time he held me, every time he kissed me, the images of him with another woman would flash through my mind. When he murmured sweet nothings, I could only wonder if he had said the same things to her. Worse, I lived in constant fear. If he spoke to another woman for work. If his phone lit up with a notification. If anyone he’d once flirted with appeared in the same room. I would tense up. Was the potion wearing off? Was he going to leave me again? I became someone I barely recognized. The smallest thing could send me spiraling. If Reed zoned out for a few seconds, or if his reply lacked a certain warmth, I would obsess for hours over whether he’d stopped loving me. Then, I got pregnant. The happiness was fleeting, quickly crushed by a familiar dread. What if the potion finally wore of......