boss, we found your dream girl!

"My husband, Victor Shaw, once asked me to have my uterus removed so we could stay child-free together. Ten years later, he brought home a pair of adopted twins, a boy and a girl, and told me to raise them well. I said yes. From that day on, I devoted myself to those two children. When they turned eighteen, they were accepted into the most prestigious universities in the country. At their graduation party, Victor handed me a property transfer agreement and asked me to put all my assets in the twins’ names. I agreed. Just as I picked up the pen to sign, my mother pulled me aside, her face full of worry. “Lana, those two children came out of nowhere. You can’t hand your entire fortune over to them.” I said calmly, “Mom, I trust my own judgment.” My mother broke down and dropped to her knees, begging me not to be a fool. When my father realized he couldn’t talk me out of it, he slapped me across the face in fury. “You stupid woman. You’re going to ruin this family.” Then he stormed out and slammed the door behind him. I signed my name. Victor burst into satisfied laughter. Then he affectionately wrapped his arm around another woman’s waist. The woman tossed a divorce agreement at me. “Lana Grant, thank you for taking care of Victor and our children all these years. Now it’s time for you to give them back to me so our family of four can finally be reunited.” I smiled faintly. “Of course.”"

I stared at the Vercetti marriage contract my father pushed across the table. Without hesitation, I wrote my half-sister’s name, Demi, and slid it back. My father froze. Then his eyes lit up with ridiculous excitement, like he’d just won the lottery. "How can you give such a perfect chance to your sister?" Last life, my marriage was a joke for everyone around me. I was the red-haired, untamed little witch who dared to climb into the orbit of Cassian Vercetti, heir and leader of the old-blood Vercetti crime family. I was never perfect nor obedient. He loved goddess gowns. I wore mini skirts and danced on tables. He demanded missionary, traditional, orderly intimacy. I wanted to climb on top, ride him, lose myself completely. At a gala, society wives laughing at my hair, my dress, my “wildness.” I thought he would at least pretend to defend me. He didn’t. “Forgive her. She’s not…properly trained.” Trained. Like a dog. I spent my entire last life suffocating under his rules, bending myself bloody to fit the shape he wanted, until the night our house caught fire. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment I learned of the arranged marriage. I looked at the contract in front of me. This time? I think the nightclub boys suits me better. But the moment Cassian realized the bride wasn’t me, he shattered every rule he’d ever lived by.

Framed, betrayed, and seconds away from a bullet to the head, Detective Jake didn't find death—he found the Karma System. Suddenly, the untouchable elites of the city aren't so untouchable anymore. Through the System's eyes, their fatal weaknesses, offshore bank accounts, and darkest secrets are downloaded directly into Jake's retinas. But tearing down a corrupt empire takes more than one man. Jake builds the ultimate "Fixer" syndicate from the ashes of society's outcasts: a ruthless psychological profiler, a cyber-ghost hacker who can breach any firewall, a lethal military veteran, and a Wall Street predator who weaponizes financial ruin. They don't just assassinate their targets; they dismantle them. From sadistic prison wardens to untouchable military-industrial CEOs, the Syndicate strikes where it hurts the most. They will expose your crimes on global streams, drain your bank accounts to zero in seconds, and leave you begging for a mercy they don't possess. The elite thought they owned the world. The Syndicate is here to collect the debt.

"Every time my husband, Dave Tarrett, spent the night at his ex Maggie Gorringe's place, he bought me another building. Two years into our marriage, I owned 285 commercial properties across the country. Which also meant Dave had screwed me over 285 times. After the deed to property number 286 landed in my hands, Maggie sent me another smug little video. ""So what if Dave throws money at you? I'm the one who gets his body and his heart. You might be some international supermodel, but you still can't get your own husband into bed."" I didn't bother arguing. Instead, I mailed her the newest Victoria's Secret set from my latest runway show. When Dave found out how ""generous"" I'd been, he rewarded me by taking me to some elite social event. During a party game, Maggie lost three rounds straight and got dared to lick whipped cream off some playboy's thigh. She grabbed a wine bottle, smashed it, and shoved the jagged edge against her neck. ""Dave, I'm not letting anyone humiliate me like this!"" Dave—usually cold as ice—instantly panicked. Then he turned to me. Of course he did. ""It's just whipped cream,"" he said softly. ""Do this for her. I swear I'll go home with you after."" Everyone waited for me to lose it. But I stayed calm and agreed without a word. He didn't know this was the 287th time he'd hurt me. And I was done being his pet. Once I paid back the debt I owed him for saving my life, we'd be done for good. "

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.

"Why does your son look so much like me?" Upon hearing this question, Holly Shaw fell silent. Five years ago, her parents divorced, and her callous father expelled her from their home. In order to pay for her mother's medical treatment, she agreed to substitute for another girl's companionship that night. Now, five years later, she returns with two adorable children, determined to reclaim what is rightfully hers. Little does she expect to once again encounter the man from that fateful night—Allen Carter.

Sean Benson and I have been betrothed since we were kids. But the older we grow, the further he stays away from me. On the day of our engagement banquet, he's found to be making out with Selena White, the heiress of the White family, backstage. This time, I no longer break down in tears. Instead, I just close the door properly for them before returning to the banquet hall silently. After that, I rip the pregnancy report that's pressed beneath a gift box into shreds. On our wedding day, all the guests are all smiles. Sean, however, is the only exception. He maintains a stormy expression the whole time, seemingly not wanting to marry me at all. I know that if it's not the fact that he gets to secure the position as the Benson heir, he will never make any wedding vows with me in the church. But no one expects me not to show up at all, even though the wedding ceremony is already starting. Sean calls me on the phone impatiently afterward. "Where the hell are you? If you don't show up soon, I'm going to cancel the wedding right away!" I merely chuckle softly without saying anything. Then, I throw my phone aside and accept the wedding bouquet that's passed to me. What Sean doesn't know is that my unborn child will be calling another man "daddy" soon.

The little girl, Molly Foster, carried a small basket full of herbs to brew medicine for her mother. But her grandfather scolded her for wandering around outside, asking her not to cause trouble for her father, who was in the army. At that moment, Molly's mother started coughing up blood. Molly asked her grandfather to get a doctor, but he rejected and scolded her again before leaving. As her mother was dying, Molly found the note her father left her 3 years ago and decided to take her mother to the army camp to find him for treatment. They arrived at the camp gate, and Molly believed that she would finally find him to cure her mother.

My husband's childhood sweetheart was diagnosed with a terminal illness. To fulfill her last wishes and let her experience the warmth of family, my husband, Aaron Turner, gave her my necklace. He even let her claim my birthday. Even our son started calling her "Mom" in private. He told me, "Chrishell, Sylvia is dying. Just give in to her, will you?" Whenever I asked him to spare even a little time and affection for me, our son, Lucas, would rush to speak on their behalf. "Mom, didn't you always teach me to be generous? Sylvia is dying. Why do you always make things difficult for her?" Over time, I stopped asking for anything at all. Then one night, I overheard my son speaking to his father after returning from the hospital. "Sylvia is so gentle and graceful. I wish Mom could be more like her." Aaron chuckled and affectionately brushed his hand over our son's hair. "Your mom may be a little strict, but it's all for your own good. Since you like Sylvia so much, how about we let her be your godmother?" So even the child I risked my life to bring into this world didn't like me. I lowered my gaze, quietly closed the bedroom door, and pretended none of it had happened. Since they were both filled with such regret, I'd leave quietly and give them what they wanted.

Marine veteran Jack Holt built Ridgeline Farm Supply from nothing — a lifeline for the 200 disabled vets who served beside him. But the one brother he could never repay was Sam Russo, the man who gave his leg to save the entire squad. Now Sam is gone. And the wife and nine-year-old daughter he left behind stand alone against Derek Malone — a market boss who thinks a grieving widow is his for the taking. Sam left his little girl only one thing: a phone number, and a promise that whoever answers will come. When Sofia finally dials it… Jack picks up. Saving them was the easy part. Derek's brother is Connor Malone — the tycoon who owns half of Pittsburgh. Overnight, he tears away every contract Ridgeline has, and brings Jack to his knees. They stripped him bare. They made him beg. But they forgot one thing: You do not humiliate a fallen soldier's widow in front of the men who bled for this country. The reckoning is coming —

I go into business with my childhood friend, Ian Ziegler. The business is a success, earning 1.2 million dollars in profit. Ian gives me my share—a whopping 5,000 dollars. Noticing my dissatisfaction, Ian puts his arm around my girlfriend, Nina Foster, and tosses the keys to his Bentley onto the table. "What, is five grand too little for you? Fine. Since you're so broke, I'll give you a chance to turn things around for yourself. There's going to be a soccer game tonight. We're both going to place our bets. If you win, you can get all 1.2 million, plus my car. "But if you lose, your girlfriend's mine. You'll also have to get on your knees and lick my shoes right here in front of everyone." Everyone else in the room cackles gleefully, eager to watch me humiliate myself. Smirking, I nod. "Sure. I'll take that bet." These people have no idea that five years ago, I'd single-handedly taken down the Northwest Aravian illegal soccer betting circuit. I'd set a trap for a match-fixing syndicate, beating the crooks at their own game. I'd walked away from that life after that. But now, Ian has seriously decided to challenge me to a soccer bet?

The night I died, my whole family was busy celebrating my twin sister Elena's eighteenth birthday. Everyone thought Elena was going to die the next day. We're elves. My father worked as a clan guardian, and after Mom gave birth to Elena and me as twins, she stopped working altogether. We should have been a happy family. But from the moment we were born, Elena and I were bound by a witch's curse. Because Elena came into the world one minute before me, she took the full weight of it onto herself. She was never supposed to live past eighteen. From the day we were born, Elena was the family's treasure. Mom and Dad treated me like I owed her something. New toys went to her first. New dresses were always her pick. Every night, Mom would sit in Elena's room for at least an hour before she'd turn off the light. I always fell asleep alone. One night I had a nightmare and ran barefoot to find Mom. She was holding Elena and didn't even look up. "Go back to bed. Stop making a fuss." I kept telling myself: she's dying, of course they're kind to her. But every time I let something go, that splinter in my chest pushed a little deeper. Then the day the curse was supposed to take effect finally came, and naturally, that was the day my stomach cramped so badly I could barely stand. Mom and Dad didn't hesitate. They shoved me into the cellar and locked it from outside. I crouched on the stone floor with the smell of mildew everywhere and knocked on the door over and over. "Mom... Dad... my stomach really hurts, I can't even stand up... let me out, please..." One sentence came back through the door. "Your sister is dying tonight! Can you just give us one day? One day!" "But... Mom... I'm scared..." Nobody answered after that. The cellar went quiet. My eyelids grew heavy. My last thought was: if I were the one dying of a curse, would they come hold me too.

Three days before my marking ceremony, someone set fire to the bridal shop while I was inside trying on my ceremonial dress. Alpha Marcus threw the arsonist into the pack prison, sentencing them to the harshest punishment our laws allowed. I lay in the hospital bed, my body covered in third-degree burns, refusing to wake fully as the reality of my disfigurement sank in. In my semi-conscious state, I heard Marcus speaking with the pack's healing witch. "Alpha, we can still heal her completely with the ancient magic. If we wait any longer, Sarah will bear these scars for life! You just want Miss Rachel to be your Luna at the marking ceremony. This is cruel beyond measure!" "Let her keep the scars. I'll provide for her for the rest of her life, but if she's healed, she'll definitely cause trouble at the marking ceremony." "I promised Rachel that her pup would be welcomed into the pack with full honors. Only when Sarah is completely disfigured will she be grateful enough to raise Rachel's child as her own. The scars are necessary - at least this way, she won't dare mistreat the pup." In the corner of the room, where no one was watching, a tear slid down my burned cheek. So this was the truth. The marking ceremony I'd dreamed of was nothing but a lie. The mate bond I longed for would be my death sentence. If that's how it had to be, I would give him what he wanted.

The night I died, my whole family was busy celebrating my twin sister Elena's eighteenth birthday. Everyone thought Elena was going to die the next day. We're elves. My father worked as a clan guardian, and after Mom gave birth to Elena and me as twins, she stopped working altogether. We should have been a happy family. But from the moment we were born, Elena and I were bound by a witch's curse. Because Elena came into the world one minute before me, she took the full weight of it onto herself. She was never supposed to live past eighteen. From the day we were born, Elena was the family's treasure. Mom and Dad treated me like I owed her something. New toys went to her first. New dresses were always her pick. Every night, Mom would sit in Elena's room for at least an hour before she'd turn off the light. I always fell asleep alone. One night I had a nightmare and ran barefoot to find Mom. She was holding Elena and didn't even look up. "Go back to bed. Stop making a fuss." I kept telling myself: she's dying, of course they're kind to her. But every time I let something go, that splinter in my chest pushed a little deeper. Then the day the curse was supposed to take effect finally came, and naturally, that was the day my stomach cramped so badly I could barely stand. Mom and Dad didn't hesitate. They shoved me into the cellar and locked it from outside. I crouched on the stone floor with the smell of mildew everywhere and knocked on the door over and over. "Mom... Dad... my stomach really hurts, I can't even stand up... let me out, please..." One sentence came back through the door. "Your sister is dying tonight! Can you just give us one day? One day!" "But... Mom... I'm scared..." Nobody answered after that. The cellar went quiet. My eyelids grew heavy. My last thought was: if I were the one dying of a curse, would they come hold me too.

Three days before my marking ceremony, someone set fire to the bridal shop while I was inside trying on my ceremonial dress. Alpha Marcus threw the arsonist into the pack prison, sentencing them to the harshest punishment our laws allowed. I lay in the hospital bed, my body covered in third-degree burns, refusing to wake fully as the reality of my disfigurement sank in. In my semi-conscious state, I heard Marcus speaking with the pack's healing witch. "Alpha, we can still heal her completely with the ancient magic. If we wait any longer, Sarah will bear these scars for life! You just want Miss Rachel to be your Luna at the marking ceremony. This is cruel beyond measure!" "Let her keep the scars. I'll provide for her for the rest of her life, but if she's healed, she'll definitely cause trouble at the marking ceremony." "I promised Rachel that her pup would be welcomed into the pack with full honors. Only when Sarah is completely disfigured will she be grateful enough to raise Rachel's child as her own. The scars are necessary - at least this way, she won't dare mistreat the pup." In the corner of the room, where no one was watching, a tear slid down my burned cheek. So this was the truth. The marking ceremony I'd dreamed of was nothing but a lie. The mate bond I longed for would be my death sentence. If that's how it had to be, I would give him what he wanted.

Three days before my marking ceremony, someone set fire to the bridal shop while I was inside trying on my ceremonial dress. Alpha Marcus threw the arsonist into the pack prison, sentencing them to the harshest punishment our laws allowed. I lay in the hospital bed, my body covered in third-degree burns, refusing to wake fully as the reality of my disfigurement sank in. In my semi-conscious state, I heard Marcus speaking with the pack's healing witch. "Alpha, we can still heal her completely with the ancient magic. If we wait any longer, Sarah will bear these scars for life! You just want Miss Rachel to be your Luna at the marking ceremony. This is cruel beyond measure!" "Let her keep the scars. I'll provide for her for the rest of her life, but if she's healed, she'll definitely cause trouble at the marking ceremony." "I promised Rachel that her pup would be welcomed into the pack with full honors. Only when Sarah is completely disfigured will she be grateful enough to raise Rachel's child as her own. The scars are necessary - at least this way, she won't dare mistreat the pup." In the corner of the room, where no one was watching, a tear slid down my burned cheek. So this was the truth. The marking ceremony I'd dreamed of was nothing but a lie. The mate bond I longed for would be my death sentence. If that's how it had to be, I would give him what he wanted.

.On the day of my prenatal checkup, I found out my husband Don had booked me a termination surgery instead of a postpartum care package. I thought he had placed the wrong order and was about to tease him, but Vincenzo spoke flatly. "I didn't book it wrong. I need to come clean with you about something." "I've been keeping another woman. She's a good girl. She doesn't want a title or to take your place as Donna." "But she got pregnant recently. I've already made her suffer enough. I can't let her child suffer too. I have to give the child the Moretti family name." I froze on the exam table, my voice shaking uncontrollably. "Then why did you abort my child?" He wiped the ultrasound gel off my belly and smiled. "I just want you to adopt Giuliana's child. I'm having yours terminated because I'm afraid you'll play favorites and treat her kid differently." He handed me the consent form, calm and composed. "I promise you will always be Donna. No one will ever take your place." I gave him a long, hard look, then was wheeled into the operating room. "Never mind." "Vincenzo Moretti, you're going to regret this every single day for the rest of your life." He didn't know it, but I was the only woman in the world who could ever give him a child.

If you refuse to apologize, stay here and reflect on your actions! Feel the pain Agnes went through!" Kenneth was the Alpha. His childhood friend was accidentally locked in a storage unit for three days. To punish me, he locked me in a faulty walk-in freezer. He left me with nothing but a piece of bread the size of my palm before locking the door and leaving.Unbeknownst to him, this walk-in freezer wasn't actually faulty. Not long after he left, the cooling system was suddenly activated. I screamed for help and desperately sought ways to survive. Unfortunately, no matter how hard I clawed at the door, nobody came to my rescue. A week later, he finally showed up outside the freezer. He was expecting an apology from me. But when he opened the freezer's door, all he found was my frozen corpse.