

"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.”"

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.

Katie Devin and her sister are about to marry into the Nott family. The older sister, Eliza Devin, an ambitious CEO, is promised to the cold,domineering head of the family, while Katie is paired with the younger son, a popular movie star. On their wedding night, a chaotic mix-up throws everything into confusion. With no other choice, the sisters swap their marriage contracts—turning a twist of fate into a perfect match seemingly made by destiny.

One month before our Blood Bond Ceremony, my fiancé decided to have a child with his childhood sweetheart to repay a life debt. When I received the pregnancy report bearing both families' blood seals, I realized he had never asked for my permission—he was only informing me. So I tore up our bond and walked away. Two years later, he finally discovered that I was the one who had saved his life. But by then, I was already standing beside another man.

Straight-A nerd Phoebe’s love life goes to hell when she confesses to the wrong guy—Beau, the school’s resident menace. Blackmail turns into a makeover pact, enemies turn allies in a teenage war of attraction. Volatile chemistry pushes rivalry into temptation as Phoebe must decide: her Prince Charming—or the irresistible asshole on a bike?
![[ENG DUB] The Last Proof That Slayed Them All](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
Aurora, once a math prodigy with solutions valuable to military research, was revealed to be the lost daughter of the wealthy Winslow family. But after being brought home, she was looked down upon for her rural background and overshadowed by the adopted daughter, Luna. Luna framed her repeatedly, and during a major exam, copied Aurora's answers. Yet Aurora was the one punished.In her next life, Aurora returns with a vow for revenge. When Luna tries to provoke her again at the exam hall, surrounded by their biased family, Aurora publicly cuts all ties with them, determined to uncover the truth and reclaim her place.

The air in the Parisian haute couture salon smelled like money and fear. I’d waited six months for my wedding dress. Now, it was draped over the shoulders of Sofia Ross—the trending influencer, and my mafia fiancé Vincent Cassio’s god-sister. The salon manager was sweating bullets, his eyes darting between me and the man lounging on the velvet sofa. Vincent Cassio stood up. He adjusted a fold of the diamond-encrusted train on Sofia with a casual flick of his wrist. “Her premiere next week needs a statement piece. She’s borrowing it. Pick something off the rack and stop making a scene.” His tone was flat, final. Under the crystal chandeliers, Sofia admired herself in the full-length mirror, a triumphant smile on her lips. I looked at my reflection in the same mirror, wearing jeans and a soaked trench coat. I looked like a lost tourist. Suddenly, the entire past year of planning felt like a sick joke. I didn’t yell. I just felt cold. Numb. I slipped the five-carat engagement ring off my finger. It hit the glass coffee table with a sharp, final click. “You’re right, Vincent. I don’t need this wedding dress. This wedding… I don’t need it either.”

I had a best friend who was sweet as honey but only with her mouth. Behind my back, she was a demon. She stole my boyfriend, the underboss of the Chicago Outfit. Her excuse? She wanted to keep me away from the darkness and the blood, so she'd take the suffering in my place. She pawned her wedding ring and fed her husband some story about a limited edition bag for me. She skimmed from her husband's company accounts and pinned it on my male escort habit. She was pregnant and still wanted thrills. So she went to a full-blown orgy with her husband's uncle and a group of his associates. That's how she ended up hemorrhaging. But somehow it was my fault. I was the one who organized that kind of party, according to her. And her story? She tried to stop me, so I pushed her down and made her lose the baby. In the end, her husband sent me to a cartel hellhole in Mexico to atone for my sins. There, her lover sold me to the red-light district. First came the addiction. Then the streets. I served every man in their outfit, one after another. My body rotted. I died slow, sick, and alone. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night my best friend miscarried because of her own filthy party.

Harry Shields, as a big fan of The Paradise of Divine Retribution, gets pulled into the novel, only to find the plot is off track! From the very start, he's thrown into the deadly "Execution Square". To survive, he relies on his memory of having read the original novel 100 times, pushing himself to the limit. Along the way, he meets the mysterious and aloof Linda Miller. They begin an exhilarating and thrilling adventure...

The "supreme" who controls half of the world's economic lifelines was willing to stay anonymous and be a kept man for three years, only to be ruthlessly dumped by his gold-digging wife on their wedding anniversary. When the useless ex-husband puts the crown of a trillion-dollar empire back on his head, a global power struggle and deadly revenge begin.