Chapter 1

When I turned eighteen, I awakened my wolf.

That was also when a strange System appeared in my mind.

It told me that if I won over Matthew Reed and survived his betrayal-and-groveling arc, I would receive $32 billion.

That was the only reason I agreed to keep our marriage secret.

But the night Matthew won Best Actor, he posted a photo on Instagram of himself feeding Hellfire Wings to his childhood sweetheart, Layla Bennett.

The caption read:

[After all this time, this is still the flavor I crave most.]

Immediately afterward, he exposed our secret marriage and posted evidence that I had paid him to mark me against his will.

The trending page crashed on the spot.

My hands shook as I reached for him through our mind-link, but Matthew didn't sound sorry at all.

"Layla's been diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer.

This is her last wish.

"She can't be labeled a homewrecker. You've had me for three years. Can't you show a little compassion for a dying woman?"

The entire internet called me a homewrecker who was destroying their true love.

Some of his fans even made black-and-white memorial photos of me and plastered them across my front door.

They demanded that I, the "vicious mate," break our bond and step aside for his true love.

I sat there in silence, tears running down my face, when the System suddenly roared inside my head:

[Hostile betrayal by target detected. Host bears no responsibility. Groveling Protocol disabled.]

[Mind-link backlash blocked. Switching to: Maximum Savage Comeback Mode!]

The moment the System fell silent, my head snapped up, every trace of tears gone.

I went live to the entire internet, grabbed a megaphone, and planted myself right outside Layla's VIP hospital room.

"Terminal stomach cancer, and she's still stuffing her face with Hellfire Wings? Is she trying to die even faster?"

第1章

I kicked open the VIP room door.

I was carrying ten takeout containers stacked perfectly on top of one another. The lids were still closed, but the throat-scorching smell already filled the room.

Every single container held Hellfire Wings, the number-one item on the pack's restaurant charts.

Inside my head, the System chimed in again:

[Ding! Savage Comeback Mode activated.]

[Current livestream viewers: 300,000 and climbing fast.]

[Target Layla: vital signs normal, gastric lining healthy. Diagnosis: faking it.]

With the System backing me up, I walked straight to the bedside.

Layla was propped up against the pillows, scrolling through her phone.

Her complexion was rosy, her lips painted in a killer shade of red, and every single lash was perfectly curled. There was not a shred of illness about her.

The moment she saw me, she froze for a second, then quickly shoved her phone under the blanket and went limp against the pillows.

"Matthew, I feel so awful."

The bathroom door swung open.

Matthew strode out wearing a white designer suit worth over a hundred thousand dollars.

In the werewolf world, only pack nobles were allowed to wear moonlight white. Matthew wasn't one of them.

But he wanted it, so I had secured an endorsement deal with the luxury brand for him anyway.

His expression darkened the moment he saw me.

"Claire, what are you doing here?"

"Granting a dying woman's last wish."

I set all ten containers down hard on the nightstand and flipped open every lid.

The crispy wings were coated in fiery red sauce and chili flakes. Their spicy aroma quickly overpowered the sharp antiseptic smell of the hospital room.

"Didn't you say this was the flavor she craves most?"

I pointed the livestream camera straight at Layla.

"Ten pounds of Hellfire Wings. Take your time. If she can't finish them today, I'm calling this terminal illness a scam."

Matthew lunged forward and shielded Layla behind him.

"Claire, have you lost your mind? She's dying!"

"So dying patients don't need feeding tubes anymore? She can do a full face of makeup, put on lipstick, and stuff herself with Hellfire Wings?"

I glanced at the burger wrapper she had hidden under the blanket.

"She's not racing the clock. She's racing to cash in on everyone's donations."

Layla ducked behind Matthew, tears filling her eyes on command.

"Claire, I know you hate me. I just wanted to taste my favorite food one last time before I go.

"Don't blame Matthew. This is all my fault."

Matthew looked heartbroken. He turned back to me and glared.

"You already have everything, and Layla hardly has any time left!

"Why do you have to go after a terminally ill patient?

"You are the most vicious werewolf alive!"

"Vicious?"

I nodded.

"Fine."

I picked up a container covered in red hot sauce and shoved it right in front of Layla's face.

"If you've only got days left, eat up. Don't waste your last meal."

"What the hell are you doing!"

Matthew reached out and pushed me.

I was ready for it. I let the force push me back half a step and loosened my grip on the container.

Splash!

Dark red hot sauce and chicken wings went flying.

Matthew's snow-white designer suit was stained from chest to ankles.

Layla got splashed, too. A few droplets landed on her cheek.

The room fell silent.

Only the System kept buzzing inside my head.

[Nice comeback! Satisfaction +1,000! Scumbag meltdown index: 99%!]

Matthew looked down at his ruined suit, shaking with rage as a guttural growl rumbled from his throat.

"Claire!"

I held my phone steady and aimed the camera at him.

"Everyone, get a good look. This is the newly crowned Best Actor who used his mate's money and connections to spoil his childhood sweetheart.

"Since you two are so madly in love, consider this hot sauce your lovers' suicide toast. Drink up."

A shriek erupted from the hallway.

"Claire!"

A she-wolf stormed into the room, her face twisted with rage. She immediately started hurling insults at me, every word filled with arrogance and spite.

"Look at you! You're disgusting!

"You're rude, obsessive, and completely crazy! Making a scene in a hospital over something this petty. You're a disgrace to the entire pack!

"Matthew marking you was the biggest mistake of his life."

I looked at the spiteful she-wolf, and the System suddenly sounded a long warning in my head.

[Warning! High-risk patient detected. Scanning Lola Reed's biometric data...]

第2章

Lola's voice drew nurses, patients, and visitors from the corridor.

Emboldened by her audience, she shoved my shoulder.

"Layla is like a daughter to me. I will not let you bully her during her final days!"

I sidestepped.

Lola stumbled past me and crashed headfirst into the nightstand, knocking the remaining containers of wings onto the floor.

Red hot sauce pooled across the tiles.

Matthew pointed at the door and bellowed:

"Security! Get this crazy woman out of here!"

I folded up my phone stand and looked at all three of them.

"No need. I'm leaving on my own.

"But just so you know, forging a terminal diagnosis and using a fake illness to collect public donations are both crimes.

"I hope you can keep this act up until the very end."

I turned and walked out. The System spoke again.

[Ding! Total satisfaction: 2,000.]

[While scanning Lola, I discovered something huge. Spend 1,000 satisfaction points to unlock it?]

"Unlock."

By the time I stepped out of the hospital, the internet had exploded.

Eight of the top ten trending topics were about me.

Clips from the livestream were everywhere. People across the internet were calling me a bully for tormenting a terminally ill werewolf. They said I was a jealous, heartless monster.

To control the narrative, Matthew and Lola quickly posted a ten-minute video, crying as they told their side of the story.

In the video, Matthew's eyes were red-rimmed, and he held up a diagnosis report that had been heavily blurred.

"This is Layla's diagnosis. Terminal stomach cancer. Please, leave her alone. Come after me instead."

At the end of the video, they included a donation link titled "Emergency Relief Fund for Terminal Cancer Patients."

The donation total shot up before our eyes.

The public's fury reached a boiling point.

The area outside my studio was soon packed with fans and influencers waving banners that read, "CLAIRE, GET OUT OF SHOW BUSINESS!"

Then a commotion broke out downstairs.

Lola had actually brought a crowd to the company plaza and was on the ground, screaming and throwing a tantrum.

"Claire, you've driven my son into a corner! You have to dissolve the mate contract today! The apartment and the money stay with Matthew. Consider it compensation for his emotional suffering!"

I took a heavy-duty megaphone from my assistant and headed downstairs.

Facing a sea of camera flashes, I cranked the volume all the way up.

"Lola, your son has been secretly married to me for three years. I've paid for his food and everything else. Even his so-called Best Actor title was bought with my money and connections!

"His personal bank account is cleaner than his conscience. Even that gold-capped false tooth in your mouth was paid for with my card.

"You care so much about that dying homewrecker? Why don't you pull it out and make her some soup with it?"

Someone in the crowd couldn't hold it in and burst out laughing.

Lola's face turned beet red.

"You're lying!"

I pulled a stack of bank statements from a document folder and flung them at her.

They showed every charge from the past three years. Every luxury item Matthew bought for Lola with my card, every relative's debt he paid off with my money. Not a single transaction was missing.

"Want me to read them out loud?

"Last March, a $140,000 diamond bracelet. Last August, Matthew paid off your brother's $430,000 gambling debt. This January..."

"Shut up! Shut your mouth!"

[System alert: Lola is about to fake a collapse and blame it on you. Watch out.]

The next second, Lola's eyes rolled back and she toppled backward, stiff as a board.

The scene erupted into chaos. Someone immediately called an ambulance.

I watched her lying on the ground, playing dead.

"That little fainting trick. Layla taught you that, didn't she?

"When the ambulance arrives, make sure you pay for it yourself. I've canceled all my cards."

Back in my office, the System projected the unlocked data into my mind.

[Host, the diagnosis report Matthew showed in the video really did come from an accredited pack hospital.]

[But the patient named on the terminal stomach cancer report isn't Layla.]

第3章

A complete set of hospital records appeared on the System's display.

The case number, the digital seal, the upload timestamp. Everything checked out.

The patient name plainly read: Lola Reed, age 62.

I stared at the name for a moment, stunned, then burst out laughing.

I laughed harder and harder until tears nearly came to my eyes.

Matthew. Oh, Matthew.

What a devoted son you turned out to be.

To make everyone believe Layla was dying and collect donations, Matthew had taken his own mother's real medical records and replaced her name with Layla's.

Lola had been suffering from stomach pain for months and had even passed black stools.

Matthew had taken her in for tests. When the results came back, he smiled and told her:

"Nothing serious. Just take some stomach pills."

Then he turned around and put Layla's name on that same diagnosis.

That night, public outrage was still growing online.

Matthew came back to the home we had once shared and sat across from me.

He rubbed his fingers together, as if choosing his words carefully.

"Claire, I know you're angry right now.

"But Layla really is just my childhood friend. There's nothing romantic between us.

"She knows she doesn't have much time left. She only came to me because she wanted to taste something from our childhood one last time.

"Anyone in that position, even you, wouldn't be able to turn away a dying woman."

He leaned forward and lowered his voice.

"This whole thing has gotten out of control. That's not good for either of us.

"All you have to do is release a statement saying you acted without thinking and misunderstood the situation. Then visit her at the hospital and apologize in front of the cameras. The public will move on.

"Our careers won't be affected. I promise. Once Layla is gone, everything can go back to the way it was.

"Trust me, okay?"

He sounded convincing. His brow was furrowed, and his eyes even looked a little wet.

As if he really cared about me. About us.

"What a load of garbage! Let's throw the medical records in his face and watch him fall apart!"

My wolf was already making plans.

"Not yet," I told my wolf.

I soothed my wolf.

"Let him climb a little higher. The higher he stands, the harder he falls."

I lowered my gaze and pretended to hesitate.

"If I apologize, you'll stop seeing her?"

Matthew's eyes lit up.

"Of course!"

"But the entire internet is tearing me apart right now. If I just post a statement, nobody's going to believe me."

"Then what do you want?"

"Since she's really dying, let her hold a press conference and livestream it for everyone to see."

I looked at Matthew and slowly set the trap.

"Have her show the original diagnosis report, her digital medical records, and a record of all the cancer medication she's been taking.

"If she can show us all of that, I'll apologize to her on the spot and beg for her forgiveness in front of everyone. I'll even pay for the best treatment money can buy."

Matthew was silent for a moment.

He was probably calculating how much it would cost to forge another set of documents.

Finally, he gritted his teeth and agreed.

"Fine. You'd better not back out!"

Watching him rush out the door, I knew he was off to prepare his grand media spectacle.

He thought this was his chance to clear Layla's name and destroy me for good.

[Host, the original hospital records, the version Matthew altered, and the full tampering log have all been secured.]

[All evidence has been saved to a USB drive. The presentation file has been locked. Once it starts playing, no one there will be able to delete or stop it.]

I gave the silver USB drive in my hand a little shake.

Matthew. Layla. Lola.

Since you love livestreaming so much, let me give you a funeral you'll never forget.

第4章

The following afternoon, the press conference was held in the grand ballroom of the largest pack-owned hotel downtown.

The venue was decorated like a memorial service.

White lilies covered the stage. Somber music played in the background, while cameras from hundreds of media outlets were aimed at the stage.

The livestream quickly passed fifty million viewers.

Layla was wheeled out in a wheelchair.

She wore an oversized hospital gown, with makeup that made her look pale and weak. An IV was taped to the back of her hand.

The IV bag contained nothing but ordinary saline.

Matthew and Lola stood on either side of her, treating her like a dying patient who might collapse at any moment.

I sat in the front row, dressed in a crimson gown.

Lola struck first.

She pointed at me, wailing until her voice cracked.

"Claire, look at her! Layla is dying, and you still won't leave her alone!

"Today, in front of everyone, you're going to apologize to her!"

The press section erupted. The livestream comments flooded in, all demanding that I beg Layla for forgiveness.

I rose to my feet without a word and walked up to the stage.

"You want me to apologize? Sure."

Matthew immediately became wary.

"What are you doing?"

"Keeping my promise."

I walked to the control console and pulled out the silver USB drive.

"But before I apologize, let's all take a look at the hospital's original record of that terminal diagnosis."

I plugged the USB drive into the computer.

[File loaded.]

[Digital seal verified. Presentation program locked.]

Matthew's expression changed.

He seemed to realize something and suddenly lunged at me.

"Don't play it! Turn it off! Turn it off now!"

Too late. I hit Enter.

The giant screen behind me flickered twice, and the pixelated diagnosis report vanished.

The screen split in two.

On the left was the original file from the pack hospital's records.

On the right was the altered version Matthew had shown the public.

The case numbers were identical.

But the changes made to the name field, the file creation timestamp, and the digital seal verification results were all highlighted in bright red.

The original hospital archive read, clear as day:

Patient name: Lola Reed.

Age: 62.

Diagnosis: Terminal stomach cancer with multiple metastases.

The room went so quiet that the only sound was the hum of the equipment.

Lola, who had been demanding an apology just seconds ago, stood frozen in place.

Slowly, she turned toward the giant screen and stared at her own name.

Then her eyes fell on the words beneath it: terminal stomach cancer.