

Wendy Shaw has just wrapped up a mission in ancient time when the System delivers news that stops her cold. Her best friend Laura Harper has been killed by a man who never deserved her. Wendy takes the new assignment without hesitating. She returns to the 21st century as the true Xavier heiress, steps into a marriage meant for the family's fake daughter, and walks down the aisle to Steve Hart, the scarred eldest son everyone assumes is a punishment posting. Her mission is to make Steve fall for her.Nobody takes Wendy seriously. The girl from the countryside is supposed to crumble under the Hart family's scrutiny. Instead, Steve's regard for her deepens steadily, and Wendy rises to become general manager of Hart Corp without breaking a sweat.When she finally turns her full attention to Mark Hart, the second son whose hands are stained with Laura's death, everything she has built points in one direction. He never saw her coming. That was always the plan."

Ray, a former FBI ace agent, chose to live incognito as a low-level mechanic just to return to his family. On the eve of the zombie apocalypse, he is brutally betrayed by his manipulative, social-climbing wife and humiliated by a Wall Street elite who strips him of his fortune. With a cold sneer, Ray signs the papers and retreats with his adopted daughter into a subterranean, nuclear-grade fortified bunker—a stronghold that drained his entire life savings.

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.

To defuse the bomb strapped to the hostage, I had no choice—I cut off all her clothes. My clueless new wife, Dana Poole, blasted it online. She cried as she faced me. "Why not at least leave her underwear on? You were saving her, I get it—but did you have to take everything? Doesn't a girl's dignity matter? With cameras everywhere, how is she supposed to live after this? You couldn't even cover her up?" The backlash exploded. The unit benched me to calm things down. So I stopped caring. I followed procedure, no improvising, no extra effort. Then one day, at the busiest mall in the city, Dana's mom got strapped into a brand-new linked bomb. This time, the whole unit panicked.