

After our eighty-eighth canceled wedding, I called my business partner. "I'm taking the Haviana market project." There was a beat of stunned silence. "Seriously? That's ten years overseas. You just got married—well, weren't you? Does your husband even know? What about your parents? You always said staying close to them was everything." I glanced around the empty church and let out a sharp laugh. "There was no wedding. No husband. And my parents? They've got Cindy. That's all they need." Another pause. "Alright. Pack your bags. You leave tomorrow." After the call, I ran a hand down my wedding dress. One last tear slipped out, quiet and pointless. Cindy had another "episode" today. Claimed she'd off herself. Andrew canceled—again. I'd looked at him, drained. "It's the eighty-eighth time." He dropped his head, guilt all over him. "Just a little more time, Viv. She's been off since the accident. I'm scared she'll actually do it. I swear, I'll talk to her. For real this time. Then we'll get married. Promise." My parents didn't hesitate. "Vivian, let Andrew go. If Cindy hadn't gotten kidnapped trying to save you, she wouldn't have these breakdowns. Are you really putting a wedding over your sister's life?" "How could you be so selfish?" I'd heard it all before. Used to fight it. Not this time. If neither my fiancé nor my parents wanted me around, then fine. I'd leave.

Evelyn Thorne enters Blackwood Manor as an instrument tuner to clear her late father Samuel's name and take revenge on Victoria, who framed him. A faint burn scar beneath her butterfly tattoo marks the tragedy that shattered her life ten years ago. For a decade, she hid grief and rage, gathering evidence of Victoria's crimes with her lover Julian. They expose Victoria and her accomplice Edgar's framing, kidnapping, and abuse. Evelyn releases vengeance, embraces Julian's love, and finds peace.

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.

After our eighty-eighth canceled wedding, I called my business partner. "I'm taking the Haviana market project." There was a beat of stunned silence. "Seriously? That's ten years overseas. You just got married—well, weren't you? Does your husband even know? What about your parents? You always said staying close to them was everything." I glanced around the empty church and let out a sharp laugh. "There was no wedding. No husband. And my parents? They've got Cindy. That's all they need." Another pause. "Alright. Pack your bags. You leave tomorrow." After the call, I ran a hand down my wedding dress. One last tear slipped out, quiet and pointless. Cindy had another "episode" today. Claimed she'd off herself. Andrew canceled—again. I'd looked at him, drained. "It's the eighty-eighth time." He dropped his head, guilt all over him. "Just a little more time, Viv. She's been off since the accident. I'm scared she'll actually do it. I swear, I'll talk to her. For real this time. Then we'll get married. Promise." My parents didn't hesitate. "Vivian, let Andrew go. If Cindy hadn't gotten kidnapped trying to save you, she wouldn't have these breakdowns. Are you really putting a wedding over your sister's life?" "How could you be so selfish?" I'd heard it all before. Used to fight it. Not this time. If neither my fiancé nor my parents wanted me around, then fine. I'd leave.

For five years, Luna Stone pretends to be deaf and mute, not for herself, but to help Sean Porter survive his darkest years. Quietly, she also funnels her parents' entire inheritance into keeping his studio afloat. She asks for nothing. She says nothing. Then Sean recovers his hearing, his studio becomes a company, and life turns good again. In an unguarded moment,he says out loud what he actually feels: he never wanted to marry her. His heart still belongs to someone else. Luna hears every word. She walks away without making a scene, and into a waiting arrangement with Kilan Arden, the man she was always supposed to find.

Six years ago, singer Emma Hadley developed a kidney disease after childbirth, was abandoned by her boyfriend Tyler, and was told that her daughter had died. In reality, Tyler saved her by donating his kidney, but because he borrowed money for the surgery from Michael, a popular singer who had a crush on Emma, he was forced to leave with their daughter. Six years later,Emma became a renowned superstar in the music industry, still haunted by thoughts of her daughter. Her daughter Lily, singing on the street to raise money for her father Tyler's surgery,accidentally encountered Emma...

Modern office worker Emily Mason dies from overwork and wakes up in the 1980s as the wife of stone-faced military officer Ethan Hayes, who’s destined to become the world’s richest man. After Ethan injured his leg during flood rescue operations, he fell into depression.The original wife despised him for being disabled and demanded a divorce, hitting her head during the fight. When Emily wakes up and realizes what’s happened, she’s horrified. She also discovers that the war orphan Ethan adopted will become a future billionaire CEO.Emily decides to stay in the 80s and win over both her husband and their adopted daughter, building a fortune together and living the rich wife dream.

Famous dancer Tessa Jorrel time travels to the 1980s, becoming a pregnant woman despised by all. The original Tessa of the 80s had tricked Colonel Shaun Lorne into marriage. After Tessa's arrival in this new time and body, she gradually wins over her sisters-in-law with modern cooking and sincere kindness, entertains the military compound with storytelling skills, impresses her mother-in-law with dancing skills, and outsmarts Yelena Vance's schemes. Shaun, cold and disciplined in public but gentle at home, falls for Tessa. Before she realizes it, Tessa is completely in love with him.

When my parents divorced, their lawyers drafted a custody agreement. My sister and I would live with separate parents, then switch homes at the start of every school year. The handoff happened every August at La Serata, the Moretti family's restaurant. Every year, my parents fought over who got more time with Sofia. "Come to St. Barts with me for Thanksgiving," Mom coaxed. Dad's face hardened. "Sofia is with me this year. She spends the holidays with me." Mom pulled up her calendar. "You dumped her on me for nineteen extra days last year. I get those days back. Every single one." "Two of those days were school overnights. They don't count." Sofia rested her chin on one hand and gave them the helpless smile of a princess burdened by too much devotion. "If only there were two of me." Half an hour later, my parents compromised by booking the trip together. Only then did Sofia glance my way. "What about Emilia?" Dad picked up his water and looked past me. "She's not my responsibility this year." Mom finally met my eyes. "The hotel group closes an acquisition next month. I don't have time for this. St. Gabriel still has rooms in the senior dorm. You'll board there." They had just counted every hour Sofia had spent away from them. When it came to me, they could hand off an entire year without blinking. Under the table, I smoothed the napkin I had crushed in my fist. My phone lit up. [Ms. Harper: Your record puts several top East Coast schools within reach. Westbridge Institute's research scholarship would also be a great fit. Which one is your first choice?] I looked at California on the other side of the map and typed my answer. [Westbridge.] Three thousand miles ought to be far enough to leave my family for good.

“Darcy is feeling dizzy tonight. Let's suppress our bond, Emma. We can have our marking ceremony some other day.” Those were the exact words he spat when I called him on the day that was supposed to be our marking ceremony. It was the seventh time he asked me to suppress the sacred bond between us for his childhood sweetheart. The first time he suppressed it was because Darcy’s pack was under attack and he wanted to be by her side. “Darcy is fighting for her survival and you want me to be pulled by our fated bond? Don't make me believe you are this selfish., Emma.” The third time he suppressed it he said, “Darcy is having a fever. I can't leave her alone.” By the sixth time, he didn't bother explaining why he had the witch suppress our bond in the most brutal way possible because he was in a hurry to go meet Darcy. Since we were fated mates, every time he wanted to be intimate with her, he would have a witch suppress the bond between us. As an Alpha, this suppression barely affects him but as an Omega, it would leave me in a terrible pain that I could not get up from my bed for weeks. Though devastated seeing me in such pain, he would offer me only a few lines of apologies and a bundle of promises to make it up to me in future. That's it. So, when the seventh time, he refused to mark me and came home to suppress our bond to be with Darcy, I had already packed my clothes. It will be the last time he suppresses our bond because the next time, there will be no bond between us to suppress.