

My husband, Cesare Ferrante, the most feared Don of the Ferrante family, had always hated children. Yet everything changed the moment my stepsister, Bianca Moretti, moved in next door with her six-month-old baby. Suddenly, my husband became obsessed with that child. He personally fed the baby formula, sang lullabies, and carried the baby everywhere he went. Every day, he came home exhausted at dawn, yet his face glowed with joy, as if that baby occupied his entire soul. I became invisible to him. Three days ago, someone forced my car off the road, and I crashed into the median. Blood streamed down my forehead, and my vision swam. I called Cesare 55 times. He did not answer a single call. Instead, he posted a photo of the baby on his social media. [My little angel smiled today!] I had had enough. Tonight at the family banquet, every member of the famiglia was seated around the table. I raised my final toast, then set down my glass. "I want a divorce." They all froze. "Are you insane?" My parents' voices rose in unison. Cesare grabbed my wrist, disbelief written across his face. "Giulia, you want to divorce me just because I was busy taking care of the baby and didn't answer your calls? You're actually jealous of a six-month-old child?" I did not meet his eyes. Instead, I stared at the glaring kiss mark behind his ear. "Since you love that child so much," I said calmly, "I'll make it easy for you. Go be that child's father."

I was the second princess of the Phoenix Court. And I fell in love with a lowly black serpent. In my past life, just to be with him, I purposely picked that black serpent during the Sacred Bonding ceremony when we each chose our companion beasts. After that, we spent every night together. I didn't care what the whole clan thought. I was determined to marry him. But on our wedding day, that same serpent I'd given my heart to drove an arrow straight through me, killing me while I was three months pregnant. As I lay dying, I heard him hiss bitterly in my ear, "If it weren't for you, I'd have been with Seraphine by now. You should've died a long time ago." That's when I finally got it. All he cared about was power. And he'd been in love with my older sister all along—the sister who was next in line for the Phoenix throne. When I opened my eyes again, we were back at that same moment—the Sacred Bonding ceremony. Before everyone, he dropped to his knees and confessed he loved my sister. He begged not to be bound to me. The whole clan looked at me with pity. But I only smiled and pointed to a small white serpent resting quietly off to the side. That black serpent thought clinging to my sister would make him powerful. What he didn't realize was that only the one I chose would become the true heir to the Phoenix Court.

It’s getting hot… and spooky… on this special Halloween edition of GoodChat! Actor Fulop Budavari sits down with Paint Me Yours Miss Bad Kisser star Alexa Reddy for a fiery, fun conversation filled with behind-the-scenes tea and hauntingly good laughs. From her favorite on-set moments to braving hot wings & hot spooky questions challenge, Alexa proves she’s just as bold off-screen as she is on.

The whole city is buzzing with gossip about CEO Natalie Adams, whose "perfect man" abandoned her on their wedding day. But she shocks everyone by declaring, "A woman thrives better without a man!" Celebrating her newfound freedom, she hires a male escort for a night of fun, only to discover she's accidentally "claimed" the most powerful man in the city, the formidable Felix Morgan—and even left him a five-star review.Thinking that would be the last of him, she soon finds herself caught in his elaborate trap. When she finally falls into his arms, she realizes their first encounter was no accident—it was all part of his master plan.

My husband, Dante, is the most untouchable Don of the Vance family in New York. He has one unbreakable rule: After 9 p.m., if he's out on family business, he does not take calls. I understood his devotion to the family, so for five years, I did my best never to disturb him. Until last night, when I was driving alone past the docks and walked straight into an ambush by a rival family's armed men. In a panic, I called Dante, begging him to save me. The phone rang for what felt like forever. When he finally picked up, his voice was ice-cold: "Nora, we've been married a long time. As the Donna of the Vance family, you should know the rules." Then he hung up. That night, I barely escaped the hail of bullets by the skin of my teeth. I spent the night in the hospital. But when I came home the next morning, all I got was a reproachful look. He accused me of interrupting a critical family shipment deal—and of sending a fake distress signal. I knew how hard he worked, so I swallowed my hurt. But later, when I used his computer, I accidentally saw his call log. One contact had been calling him almost every single night—always after nine. For five full years. I knew that number. It belonged to Alexa, the Vance family's Capo. The woman everyone in the family had agreed, for all these years, was the one truly fit to stand beside Dante. In that moment, every ounce of suppressed hurt came flooding back. After I calmed myself, I picked up my phone and found an invitation I'd received a few days ago—to an international art exhibition. And I clicked "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from his world completely.

My husband, Dante, is the most untouchable Don of the Vance family in New York. He has one unbreakable rule: After 9 p.m., if he's out on family business, he does not take calls. I understood his devotion to the family, so for five years, I did my best never to disturb him. Until last night, when I was driving alone past the docks and walked straight into an ambush by a rival family's armed men. In a panic, I called Dante, begging him to save me. The phone rang for what felt like forever. When he finally picked up, his voice was ice-cold: "Nora, we've been married a long time. As the Donna of the Vance family, you should know the rules." Then he hung up. That night, I barely escaped the hail of bullets by the skin of my teeth. I spent the night in the hospital. But when I came home the next morning, all I got was a reproachful look. He accused me of interrupting a critical family shipment deal—and of sending a fake distress signal. I knew how hard he worked, so I swallowed my hurt. But later, when I used his computer, I accidentally saw his call log. One contact had been calling him almost every single night—always after nine. For five full years. I knew that number. It belonged to Alexa, the Vance family's Capo. The woman everyone in the family had agreed, for all these years, was the one truly fit to stand beside Dante. In that moment, every ounce of suppressed hurt came flooding back. After I calmed myself, I picked up my phone and found an invitation I'd received a few days ago—to an international art exhibition. And I clicked "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from his world completely.

Apprentice dragon knight Eli Winters follows a strict code of protecting rather than killing, refusing to take part in dragon hunts. Ridiculed by his fellow knights, he now faces expulsion from the order. But Eli has kept a secret for twelve years. As a child, he once rescued an injured silver-scaled dragon deep in the forest. The dragon, Syrion, has never forgotten the one who saved his life. Now, disguised as a striking silver-haired man with golden eyes, Syrion seeks Eli out and insists on forming a mutual dragon-bonded mate contract with him. Eli is wary and resists fiercely, doing everything he can to drive Syrion away. But as dragon hunters close in, villagers turn against them, and hardline dragon factions stir up conflict, his resolve begins to waver. Again and again, Syrion shields Eli with his own body, refusing to retreat even after being struck by a poisoned dragon arrow. Eli gradually stops running and chooses to fight alongside him, using his tactical skill and swordsmanship to face their enemies together. When they entrust their lives to each other in a storm-battered ruin and surrender themselves to one another beside a cave campfire, their feelings are finally undeniable. What began as cautious testing and push-and-pull becomes a bond forged in life and death.

My husband and I were the two people who hated each other most in this world. He hated me for tearing him away from the woman he loved. And I hated him because that his heart remained occupied by another woman. For eight years of marriage, the words we spoke to each other most often were not love, nor duty, but curses. Yet on the day the city fell, everything changed, the enemy banners were already visible beyond the inner gate. He rode ahead and took the road, putting his body between the enemy and my escape. “Live,” he said quietly. Then he raised his blade and did not look back. Arrows came like rain. As they tore into him, he turned his head once—only once— After that, his body held the road,and nothing passed. “If there is another life…may Your Highness grant me the mercy to belong to her.” That night, with the city in ruins and the people either dead or fleeing, I climbed the highest tower of the palace. I leapt. When I opened my eyes again, I went to the king. “The northern kingdoms require a royal bride,” I said. “I will go.” This lifetime, I will be the one to cross the border. In my previous life, he died believing he had failed her. This time, I will not allow that regret to exist. I will take the marriage meant for her. I will carry the crown meant to exile her. I will walk into a future she should never have to endure. Let her stay. Let him protect her. Let him live his life believing he has finally kept his promise.

When Jonathan Shaw brings his seventh pregnant mistress to me for the delivery, his friends start taking bets on how long it'll take before I break down. But even after the baby's cries echo through the delivery room, they never hear me lose control. "Come on, this is the seventh one. Are you sure she isn't done with you this time?" Jonathan shrugs. "She can't have children, and I've got a family legacy to carry on. I'll end up having kids with other women so they can inherit the family business either way. I might as well have a few now and let her get used to it." As soon as he finishes speaking, I walk out carrying the newborn. Following standard procedure, I announce, "Congratulations. He weighs seven pounds, six ounces. Both the mother and the baby are doing well." Jonathan smiles as he takes the baby from my arms. Then, he hands me a divorce agreement. "Sign it," he orders. "It's just an act to humor her. She refuses to have our second child unless I divorce you first. Once the second baby's born, we'll have eight kids." I've gone along with his little charade seven times already. This time, I sign my name without hesitation. Jonathan seems to have forgotten one thing. It's not that I can't have children. We're just genetically incompatible. If I want a child, I just have to find a different man. Why would I spend the rest of my life raising someone else's children just to stay married to him?