

In the eternal night of the vampire realm, Isolde believed she had found true forever with Alaric Voss — the Golden Heir who publicly abandoned the Vampire Throne for her, a woman from the slums. For years he built blood empires in her name, knelt under the blood moon, and swore she was his only salvation. Then she discovered the truth. Behind her back, Alaric had maintained a secret life with his childhood companion Evelina Rizzo. Together they had twin sons who carried his crimson eyes. Heartbroken and pregnant, Isolde made a single, irreversible decision. With the help of her oldest confidante Selene, she staged her own death in a catastrophic silver-flame curse during their wedding renewal ceremony. The hall burned.

Sylvia Xavier was born a vampire heiress. A servant's forbidden arts took everything -- her name, her arm, her family. Now she's married to a duke everyone thinks is insane. Turns out, he's the most dangerous ally she's ever had. And together, they're coming for the truth -- and everyone who buried it.

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.”

Layla Monroe, a mystic arts practitioner, is reborn as the third daughter of the Dugan family—only to be buried alive by her own father as a sacrifice. She survives a thunder strike and crawls back from death’s edge. Using her mystic arts, she takes revenge step by step, forcing her enemies to suffer their own cruelty. To survive, she enters a contract marriage with Crown Prince Julian Lauren, but through palace struggles, wit, and power, she rises—until even the cold prince falls for her, and she becomes unstoppable.

Three days before our wedding, my fiancé, Raphael Russo, was killed in a gang shootout. They didn't even find a body. As I was drowning in grief, comments suddenly flashed before my eyes: 【Wake up, girl! the coffin's empty! He faked his death! The scumbag ran off to be with that scheming bitch chloe, the one pretending to be sick!】 【While you're crying your eyes out at the funeral, Raphael is fucking Chloe’s brains out in a hotel bed.】 【When he comes back, he'll claim he has amnesia. You won't know a thing and you'll forgive him. You poor thing…】 A month later, news of my marriage to Mafia Don Marcello Falcone spread through New York. Raphael’s right-hand man cornered me, furious. “How could you betray the Boss?” I tightened my grip on Marcello’s arm and smiled. “A girl can’t mourn forever, can she? I’m sure Raphael, in spirit, would be happy for me.”

5 years ago, Lydia Tate accidentally saved Eric Lucia, Lucia Group's CEO, and got pregnant overnight. 6 years later, Lydia met him again while her family forced her into marriage. Eric, who had been searching for her, married her and doted on her. He secretly helped her take down her backstabbing friend, her profit-driven parents, and the bully they forced her to marry.