

My daughter, Ruby Pratt, has leukemia. She needs a bone marrow transplant—and fast. Out of everyone in the family, my husband, Dan Pratt, was the only match. I begged him for an entire month before he finally agreed to go through with the donation. But on the morning of the surgery, he went completely off the grid. I stood outside the hospital all day, waiting. No calls. No texts. Not even a shadow. That night, his childhood friend, Valerie Kinder, posted on Instagram. In the photo, Dan was holding Valerie's hand with one arm and carrying her young son with the other—on a beach in Lulabo City. The caption read: [Soaking up the sun! Dan cleared his whole schedule to join us on a month-long trek and we finally made it to the coast! My little boy said Uncle Dan made his ocean dream come true. Pure joy!] My heart splintered. While I was drowning in worry over my daughter, he was off playing happy family with them. I wiped my tears and typed a comment beneath her post: [Not 'Uncle.' From now on, he's your son's father.] That night, I finally got a call from him. "Babe, don't be like this," Dan said. "You're not being fair. "Valerie's son has been bullied at school for not having a dad. I couldn't stand seeing him hurt, so I took them on this trip. It was supposed to help him heal. "I'll catch the first flight back tomorrow and head straight to the hospital to donate the marrow. I promise." I hung up with a bitter smile. The next morning, Dan rushed into the hospital room. But all he found on the bed was a death certificate.

Three years ago, an earthquake struck. Lydia's husband and son died saving everyone in their building. Their neighbor Eleanor gradually forgot their sacrifice in the years that followed. For three years, Lydia has quietly honored her loved ones' memory, while Eleanor has come to see Lydia as a symbol of bad luck. Now Eleanor's son Marcus is about to hold his wedding. Lydia decides to make everyone understand in her own striking way that honoring the departed is honoring life itself, and that remembering an act of kindness keeps warmth alive in people's hearts.

In the fog-choked steam city of Verlock, Chloe Ashborne survives a brutal family massacre and hides herself as a disfigured, mute maid sneaking into the obsidian Clock Tower Manor—the stronghold of the cold and powerful Duke Liam. Covered in wax scars and pretending to be timid and clumsy, she hides her true identity as the last heir of the Ashborne mechanical clan, a master toxic healer, top gear decoder, and deadly combat fighter. Her only goal is to retrieve the sealed case files that record the truth of her family's murder from the manor's confidential machine room. As she lurks in the shadows, she repeatedly arouses Liam's suspicion and curiosity. She narrowly escapes frame-up and fatal traps set by the jealous captain of the female guards, saves Liam from fatal steam poison and assassin attacks, and secretly controls the manor's defense gear system in crisis. While the line between hatred and attraction blurs, Chloe's layered disguises are gradually stripped away one by one. When she finally breaks into the secret chamber to obtain the files, she falls into a carefully laid trap, and her true face and identity are completely exposed to Liam. The two fall into misunderstanding and confrontation, until the real murderer behind the massacre launches a full-scale attack on Clock Tower. Standing amid fire, gunsmoke and collapsing steam machinery, Chloe and Liam lay down their hatred, fight side by side to defeat the evil guild, uncover the buried truth, and turn a revenge disguise into a fated love bonded by gears, steam and redemption.

Mandy's son and daughter-in-law, eager to make money from a bride price, pressured and threatened her—a widow for many years—into marrying Seth, a man in a vegetative state due to a car accident. With no way to refuse, Mandy went through with the marriage, feeling scared and reluctant. However, she was surprised to be warmly welcomed and treated kindly by Seth's daughter, Kira. At first, Mandy resisted the idea of staying, but over time, she grew more willing to remain by Seth's side. What she didn't realize was that Seth was slowly regaining awareness, deeply touched by her presence and care...

“I need your help to fake a private jet crash,” I said quietly. “It’s the only way I can ever leave Luca Moretti.” People said he’d given up the Mafia throne for me. They called him the man who traded power for love— the heir who walked away from blood and gold just to marry a waitress from the slums. For years, he made the world believe in us. He built empires under my name. He sent me roses every Monday. He told the press I was his salvation. But love doesn’t always mean loyalty. While I was busy believing in forever, he was building a second home behind my back— one filled with laughter, toys, and twin sons who had his eyes. The night I disappeared, his empire burned. He tore apart cities, bribed governments, and buried men alive just to find me. But by the time he did— I was already gone. And the woman he’d once died for no longer loved him enough to stay alive.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

On my eighteenth birthday, the High King summoned the heirs of the four great clans—the Vampires, the Werewolves, the High Serpent Clan, and the Merfolk. He laid their portraits before me and said, "Choose one to be your bondmate." I did not hesitate. I pointed to Damon—the werewolf with no noble bloodline, born in a forgotten corner of the realm. The entire court erupted in disbelief. Everyone knew who I used to love. Alpha Iris—the heir of the most powerful Lycan bloodline. For seven years, I chased him with blind devotion. No matter how harshly he treated me, I never gave up. I confessed to him over and over, sometimes right in the royal court. I even performed a blood-binding ritual—slitting my wrist—to earn the right to marry him. In my previous life, I got what I wanted—I married him and we performed the mate bonding ceremony. With that union, he inherited the High King's resources and rose to become the ruler of all four clans. However, what I did not expect was that after our wedding, he turned around and marked my adoptive sister. My parents were furious and sent her away. From that day on, Iris hated me with a vengeance. He surrounded himself with women who all looked eerily like her. One by one, they came—each more vicious than the last. With his silent approval, they tore me down, piece by piece, until I was nothing more than a joke—no longer the queen I once was. The suffering pushed me into severe depression. Only suppressants keep my wolf form from spiraling out of control. Until one day, my medication was replaced with a slow-acting poison. He was the one who did it. I died alone, locked away in the cold palace, a child still growing inside me. However, fate gave me another chance. In this life, I would not make the same mistake. When the High King once again asked me to choose a partner for the marriage alliance, I chose Damon—the one no one ever noticed—without even blinking.

Rose Frost, a corporate slave, transmigrated into a tyrant queen, activated a system, survived crises, and rose to rule the galaxy as empress.

Blessed with a serendipitous aura, Meave Shaw's wedding day takes a strange turn when she meets CEO Yannic Pinkman, whose car has run out of gas. After she mistakes his vehicle for her wedding car and gifts him sweets in apology, his fuel tank inexplicably refills. Grateful, he searches for her, but she has already married into the Wayne family, whose fortunes soar with her luck. However, wealth corrupts them, and after her husband's betrayal, she is determined to divorce him and moves to the city. There, she takes a job at a hotel owned by none other than Yannic, bringing their intertwined destinies full circle.

The night before our 17th wedding attempt, my mafia husband, Rafaeal Holloway, looks at me and promises an uninterrupted wedding. He solemnly swears. "Gianna, I promise you. I told Natalia that even if the sky falls, she'll deal with it alone." I am five months pregnant by then. After three years of dating and five months carrying his child, we've never managed to make it down the aisle because he's canceled the past 16 weddings. Every single time, it's for his sworn sister, Natalia Sullivan. The first time, she claims she has a fever. I spend the whole night at the hospital, still in my wedding dress, just to find out she has a mild cold. The second time, she claims her chest hurts. Rafael abandons me mid-wedding and rushes to her side, while she's out laughing over afternoon tea with friends. The third time, she cries for fear of thunder. He bolts mid-vows and leaves me alone in a hall full of staring guests. But everything's different now. Three days ago, a letter arrived from Northern Silenzio. My father, the Don of the Rossetti family, has finally summoned me home. If Rafael walks away for Natalia one more time, I'll leave for good.