

I had been in a secret relationship with my mafia boyfriend, Dante Castellano, for seven years. No public contact. No photos together. No proof I had ever stood by his side. He told me, "Once I'm powerful enough that no one dares touch you, I'll make it official." I believed him. The day before our seventh anniversary, I found a ten-carat diamond ring in his suit jacket. I cried with joy, thinking seven years of hiding were finally over. The next morning, I wore my most expensive dress and sprayed on the only perfume he had ever given me. I practiced my smile in the mirror, the one I would give when he proposed. Then, my phone lit up with a breaking news alert. [Breaking News: Seven-Year Love Story Reaches Perfect Ending—Romance Blogger Alessia Romano Accepts Boyfriend's 100th Proposal!] In the photo, the influencer with eight million followers stood on her tiptoes, kissing a man. His hand rested on the back of her neck. On that hand was a scar I would never mistake. It was the scar Dante got when he took a knife for me.

He is an orphan scorned by everyone. Just when he thinks he will spend his entire life like this, he unexpectedly crosses paths with the "swan" he have once secretly admired, and becomes the useless husband who lives off his wife. However, when someone suddenly appears before him and reveals that he is the heir to a hundreds of millions assets, what transformations will occur in his life? And how will he get along with his wife?

I got bored late in the night and casually bragged about dating the campus goddess. I never expected that the very next second, I would obtain the All-Seeing Eye System. As long as I took a photo of someone with my phone, I could instantly obtain all of their secrets.The next day, I aimed the camera at the class beauty, Rachel Lewis. Almost immediately, shocking information popped up on my phone screen. I tapped open the attached PPT, which contained a detailed breakdown of the exposed dirt.

Natalie was once the Parson family's cherished daughter, but her world was shattered when Monica was unmasked as the true heiress. Manipulated by Monica, she was framed for their grandmother's murder and cast out by her family to a hellish reform school. Two years later, she was released, only to be forced into a marriage with a notorious alcoholic playboy. As the truth about her past and the horrors of that "school" come to light, Natalie watches everyone with a cold stare. Her storm of revenge has just begun.

Natalie was once the Parson family's cherished daughter, but her world was shattered when Monica was unmasked as the true heiress. Manipulated by Monica, she was framed for their grandmother's murder and cast out by her family to a hellish reform school. Two years later, she was released, only to be forced into a marriage with a notorious alcoholic playboy. As the truth about her past and the horrors of that "school" come to light, Natalie watches everyone with a cold stare. Her storm of revenge has just begun.

When Christopher is betrayed by the homeless man he once saved, he loses his job as bank president, his wife, and ends up in prison for a crime he didn't commit. Now the imposter is after his daughter, and Christopher vows to break out of prison and use his high power connections to enact justice.
![[ENG DUB] Secrets at My Fingertips](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
I got bored late in the night and casually bragged about dating the campus goddess. I never expected that the very next second, I would obtain the All-Seeing Eye System. As long as I took a photo of someone with my phone, I could instantly obtain all of their secrets.The next day, I aimed the camera at the class beauty, Rachel Lewis. Almost immediately, shocking information popped up on my phone screen. I tapped open the attached PPT, which contained a detailed breakdown of the exposed dirt.

Switched at birth, noble girl Leah is framed by the fake heiress Megan and suffers brutal abuse that leaves her disabled. Luckily, she meets William, who is secretly pretending to be an idiot. As the truth unfolds, the villains are punished. Leah severs ties with her biased family and finds her own happiness.

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.