always sunny watch

Within the halls of Golden Feather Academy, wealthy stepsiblings Tanya and Leo, bound by family but not blood, hold court as the institution's dual reigning icons of popularity. As the holiday break ends, the queenly Tanya sets her sights on the newly elected Student Council President, Logic—son of the nation's president. At the grand ball, her calculated allure meets only his icy dismissal. Stung and pride inflamed, she makes a reckless wager with her notorious playboy stepbrother, Leo, who has just slipped into her bedchamber under cover of night: if Leo can seduce and shatter the seemingly incorruptible, iron-willed heterosexual scholar Logic within one month—turning his arrogance to ashes and his reputation to ruin—she will grant him the one thing he's craved for years: a night in her bed. The libertine Leo, who believes his charm can conquer anyone except the elusive Tanya, acknowledges the formidable challenge of making Logic fall in love. Yet, brimming with audacious confidence, he accepts, plunging them all into a twisted game of seduction and vengeance. However, as the month draws to a close, a chilling realization dawns on Tanya: not only has she been denied the sweet venom of revenge against Logic, but she may have irrevocably lost the mercurial, ever-devoted Leo—the brother whose affections she'd always held in a delicate, dangerous dance of veiled dominance—to the very heart he was supposed to destroy.

After my older sister Rachelle came home from dialysis, the atmosphere at home was suffocating. She curled up on the couch, thin as a rail. She was nagging me hard and telling me not to tire myself out too much at work. Dad was by the door smoking. To get money to treat Rachelle’s condition, he had sold our old house and land. Dirty and muddied, my fiance, who had always viewed Rachelle as a sister of his own, brought home his week’s salary. They all lamented how unfair life was to already poor and suffering people who had to suffer even more. I looked at myself in the mirror with my bleeding nose and flushed away the report with my acute leukemia diagnosis. During dinner, Dad suddenly said, “Ryleigh, Rachelle needs a kidney. You’re healthy and young. You might be a match.” I looked at Rachelle’s pleading eyes and coldly put my cutlery down. “I won’t do it. I’ll be a cripple with one less kidney. How am I supposed to find someone to marry then?” Dad slapped me hard, even as my fiance called me ungrateful. I slammed the door shut as I left. I looked for the nearest room to the hospital to rent so that I could wait it out until I died. The room I found was only five blocks away from the organ donation center.

Within the halls of Golden Feather Academy, wealthy stepsiblings Tanya and Leo, bound by family but not blood, hold court as the institution's dual reigning icons of popularity. As the holiday break ends, the queenly Tanya sets her sights on the newly elected Student Council President, Logic—son of the nation's president. At the grand ball, her calculated allure meets only his icy dismissal. Stung and pride inflamed, she makes a reckless wager with her notorious playboy stepbrother, Leo, who has just slipped into her bedchamber under cover of night: if Leo can seduce and shatter the seemingly incorruptible, iron-willed heterosexual scholar Logic within one month—turning his arrogance to ashes and his reputation to ruin—she will grant him the one thing he's craved for years: a night in her bed. The libertine Leo, who believes his charm can conquer anyone except the elusive Tanya, acknowledges the formidable challenge of making Logic fall in love. Yet, brimming with audacious confidence, he accepts, plunging them all into a twisted game of seduction and vengeance. However, as the month draws to a close, a chilling realization dawns on Tanya: not only has she been denied the sweet venom of revenge against Logic, but she may have irrevocably lost the mercurial, ever-devoted Leo—the brother whose affections she'd always held in a delicate, dangerous dance of veiled dominance—to the very heart he was supposed to destroy.

My husband, Cesare Ferrante, the most feared Don of the Ferrante family, had always hated children. Yet everything changed the moment my stepsister, Bianca Moretti, moved in next door with her six-month-old baby. Suddenly, my husband became obsessed with that child. He personally fed the baby formula, sang lullabies, and carried the baby everywhere he went. Every day, he came home exhausted at dawn, yet his face glowed with joy, as if that baby occupied his entire soul. I became invisible to him. Three days ago, someone forced my car off the road, and I crashed into the median. Blood streamed down my forehead, and my vision swam. I called Cesare 55 times. He did not answer a single call. Instead, he posted a photo of the baby on his social media. [My little angel smiled today!] I had had enough. Tonight at the family banquet, every member of the famiglia was seated around the table. I raised my final toast, then set down my glass. "I want a divorce." They all froze. "Are you insane?" My parents' voices rose in unison. Cesare grabbed my wrist, disbelief written across his face. "Giulia, you want to divorce me just because I was busy taking care of the baby and didn't answer your calls? You're actually jealous of a six-month-old child?" I did not meet his eyes. Instead, I stared at the glaring kiss mark behind his ear. "Since you love that child so much," I said calmly, "I'll make it easy for you. Go be that child's father."

On the day of my engagement party, my mother and I were sitting in the car waiting for the driver when my fiance's secretary suddenly sent me a video. In it, she had a middle-aged she-wolf by the hair, slapping her across the face again and again. "Selena, you gold-digging trash! Did you really think pretending to be some high-society socialite and getting engaged to Alpha Declan meant your mother could sneak into his house and steal?" Another slap landed. The woman's face was already grotesquely swollen. "Typical backwoods behavior. Always grabbing at things that don't belong to you. As Declan's secretary, I'm handling this filthy thief on his behalf." I slowly lowered my phone. Beside me, my mother was adjusting her necklace in her compact mirror. When she noticed me looking at her, she smiled and patted my hand. "Thorncrown Pack may be an absolute disaster when it comes to business, darling, but Declan is very handsome. Once the alliance is official, your father and I can help straighten things out." Frowning, I replayed the video. The sharp cheekbones. The immaculate chignon. And the mole on her ear. Oh my God. That was my future mother-in-law! I immediately called back. "Vanessa, do you have any idea what a complete idiot you are? That's Declan's mother!" She let out a vicious laugh. "Oh, please. Declan already told me all about you. Some nobody his father forced him to marry. " "He doesn't even care about you, so why would he give a damn about your relatives?"

The doctor told me I had 72 hours left, unless I got access to the newest experimental treatment. However, there was only one slot available, and my husband Bowen Liddell gave it to my sister Yvonne Lawson instead. "Her kidney failure is more critical," he said. I nodded and swallowed the white pills that would only speed up my death. In the time I had left, I got a lot done. The lawyer's hand trembled as he passed me the documents. "Are you sure you want to transfer the two billion dollars in shares?" I replied, "Yes. Give them to Yvonne." My daughter, Candice Liddell, was giggling in Yvonne's arms. "Mommy Yvonne bought me a new dress!" I said, "It looks beautiful. Make sure you always listen to Mommy Yvonne, okay?" The art gallery I built from the ground up now had Yvonne's name on the sign. "You're too kind, Kathy," she said, crying. I told her, "You'll run it even better than I ever did." I even signed all my parents' trust fund away. That was when Bowen finally gave me his first genuine smile in years. "Kathleen, you've changed. You're not so aggressive anymore... You're beautiful like this." Indeed. This dying version of me finally became the 'perfect Kathleen Sullivan' in their eyes—obedient, generous, and no longer argumentative. The 72-hour countdown had already begun, and I couldn't help but wonder what they would remember when my heart stopped for good. The good wife who 'finally learned to let go', or the woman who completed her revenge by dying?