

The wealthiest tycoon's daughter, Eva Stone, conceals her identity to be with the financially struggling Wills Zuck. However, Wills, driven by ambitions to align himself with the influential, betrays her by having an affair with the impostor, Lina Clark, who poses as Eva Stone. In the ultimate revelation, Eva unveils her true identity, delivering a resounding blow to the unfaithful man and deceitful woman in a compelling tale of intrigue and personal triumph.

I married Don Matteo in secret. Every time he fucked his childhood sweetheart, he promised me a real wedding,in front of the Five Families. For five years, Matteo promised me ninety-nine times. And ninety-nine times, he left me at the altar. The first time, Cecilia’s prize-winning show cat died. To comfort her, he postponed the wedding for three months. I stood at the altar alone, eyes red, trying to calm down the family elders. The second time, Cecilia threw a tantrum at a casino and shattered a hundred-million-dollar antique vase. He diverted the private jet meant for their wedding and rushed through the night to clean up her mess. And every time, right before our wedding, his childhood sweetheart would have some kind of emergency. I cried. I screamed. I even held a gun to his head. But Matteo would just pin me against the wall and shut me up with a cold, hard kiss. “She’s just a fuck. You are Mrs. Falcone. Have some goddamn class.” After the ninety-ninth time, I was finally done. I slid the papers across the table. The ink was still wet, the Falcone family seal stamped at the bottom. “Our marriage, our alliance—it’s over.”

Fiona marries Nathan to return a favor, but he cheats on her,humiliates her, and pushes her to the edge. She gives birth prematurely, bleeds heavily, and almost dies. Totally disillusioned, she decides to strike back. She announces at a press conference that she is the other woman, fakes her death, and escapes to another city. Five years later, she becomes a famous designer. When Nathan finds out she is still alive, he obsessively hunts her down. He tries to use their child and money to win her back. However, Fiona will never look back.

After the war of the gods, Thrud takes on the heavy duty of ruling the Aesir. She resurrects Alviss — once turned to stone for offending Zeus — and elevates him into a god of her own clan. Grateful for everything Thrud has sacrificed, Alviss swears he will cherish her. When Thrud returns to the realm wounded, she finds Alviss being intimate with an envoy named Levia — and Levia is wearing her crown and her sacred marriage band. Alviss claims that Levia cared for him during the years he was stone, and that he has already elevated her to the rank of divine envoy. When Levia deliberately drops the band, Thrud finally reaches her breaking point and strikes her, stripping Levia of her title on the spot and banishing her from the realm of the Aesir.

Emilia is the reincarnation of Saintess Natasha, who died in battle 70 years ago. Entering the Royal Academy of Magic as a baron's illegitimate daughter, she excels in magic and swordsmanship, earning a surprise nomination for the Saintess selection. There, Clara and her mother scheme against her, but Emilia inadvertently awakens the mad King Arthur, revealing her true identity.

Elena Graywood couldn't understand why her grandfather insisted on her marrying a man from a mountain village. Until, this man revealed to her that he was actually a divine physician with unparalleled medical skills.

On the night she wins Best Actress, Nicole Clark transmigrates into a disgraced noblewoman in Teswil.Plain-faced and powerless, she is bound to a system that allows her to alter her beauty to survive.Desperate to rise, she takes a beauty pill and gains a stunning appearance. In the imperial garden, she meets Logan Hart, and they grow close without knowing his identity. But when the effect fades and her face returns, the shifting appearances spark confusion, and their fragile bond falls into misunderstanding.

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 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.

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.