

Vivian saves Enrique, the CEO of York Group, and unexpectedly gets pregnant, resulting in a lame leg.Eight months later, she gives birth prematurely to a baby boy.To pay for her son's medical expenses, Vivian works tirelessly to earn money. Meanwhile, Enrique is also searching for Vivian, vowing to lavish her with all his love!

Three-time world champion Valkyrie Ella retired for love, spending three years building Leo's Mercury Motors with her patents and funds. Leo cheated with Chloe and forced a divorce. Ella left with her helmet, returned as driver V, defeated Chloe, and revealed her triple identity—champion, Winst heir, and tech owner—terminating patent licenses. Chloe's sabotage earned a lifetime ban and arrest. Ella won the finals, founded her brand and academy. Leo lost everything and begged for reconciliation, but Ella refused, saying apologies aren't a reason to go back. She forgave no one,remarried no one, and drove on alone.

Struggling office worker Daniel Clark accidentally joins a secret chat group where anything can be bought for pennies. He assumes it's a scam until he successfully purchases a villa for just one dollar. As his fortune grows, he teams up with the stunning CEO Wendy White.Together, they navigate corporate crises and outmaneuver rivals.Amidst the chaos of wealth and power, a slow-burning romance begins to blossom.

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.

.The day before we were scheduled to fly to Meridianna for our wedding, Harrison Tucker, my fiancé of five years, swapped my and my parents' first-class tickets for Mandy and her parents without saying a word. He said casually, "Mandy hasn't been to Meridianna and wanted to take her parents out for vacation, but there weren't that many seats left in first class on our flight... You guys take a ship over. I've already bought you the tickets." I looked toward my fiancé's family, and surprisingly, not a single person opposed Harrison's decision. It was then that I finally gave up all hope. After they boarded the plane and departed, I canceled the wedding venue, as well as the luxury hotel and high-end services I had booked. I want to see exactly how Harrison, a customs declaration clerk making only a few thousand dollars a month, was going to accompany his "dear friend's" family to go around Meridianna without my help.

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.

In her previous life, when Marlene's son falls ill, she calls her husband Wesley Hoffman for assistance, hoping he can contact their family doctor. However, Wesley claims that his best friend's son is also sick, and the doctor is attending to that child. As a result, their own son dies due to delayed medical treatment. When Marlene finds herself reborn to the time before her son's illness, her first action is to divorce that guy.

"Please, stop pushing. I can't take this anymore." The concert venue is packed tight. A man behind me keeps pressing into my backside. I'm wearing a mini skirt today with a thong underneath, and it only makes the situation worse. He lifts my skirt and presses himself against my hips. As the atmosphere heats up, someone in front of me slams into me, and I stumble back a step. My body stiffens as I feel like something just slid inside me.