

I’ve always felt like Travis Chancer was forced to marry me. Every time we were intimate at night, he’d rather use his hand to get me off than actually have sex with me. I got more and more disappointed and decided to divorce him. But the night before I printed the papers, I heard him on the balcony talking to his buddies. “Bro, I’m not trying to be nosy, but you’re obviously dying for it. Why won’t you touch her? The perfect woman is right there. It must feel amazing.” “Women can’t stand being ignored. If you keep bottling it up, she’ll eventually run off with another man, and you’ll regret it.” He took a quiet sip of whiskey. “But her skin is so delicate, and her waist is so slim… she’s so sensitive. What if I lose control and scare her? “She’s my woman. I have to be careful. If she wants to find comfort elsewhere, she can. As long as she’s still willing to come home, I’ll keep spoiling her.” They snorted. “Don’t act like a saint, man. If you’ve got the guts, stop secretly posting on Reddit.” Late that night, I quietly opened Travis’s browser history. A full hundred entries. The pinned post read: “I finally married the girl I’ve loved for years, but I have a very high sex drive. How can I make her enjoy it without leaving psychological scars?”…

Five years ago, gifted surgeon Elara Voss fled a suffocating marriage while secretly carrying her husband's unborn daughter. Now, one drunken mistake lands her back in bed with her cold, billionaire ex‑husband, Damian Sterling. Determined to protect their five‑year‑old daughter, Elara insists the child isn't his and proposes a strictly physical arrangement: Tuesdays only, no publicity, no interference, and no entanglement. What she doesn't know is that Damian has loved her for five full years and waited for her all along; he simply never knew how to express his feelings. As old desire reignites, their daughter's identity and the carefully staged fake‑infidelity hoax that destroyed their marriage begins to surface. Can two people who never learned to understand each other's love give their marriage a second chance once the truth comes to light?

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.”

Liliana thought her online boyfriend, “Rex,” was just a dangerously charming stranger.For three months, they flirted, sexted, and shared fantasies they had never dared tell anyone else.Then one photo changed everything.A familiar crest revealed that Rex was connected to the Falcone mafia—the same crime family that owned the company Liliana worked for.Desperate to uncover his identity, she followed the clues straight to her boss, Marco. The matching cufflinks, the familiar details... everything fit.Until Liliana discovered Marco already had another woman.Humiliated and furious, she sent Rex one final message:“You’re a scumbag. We’re done.”Then she blocked him.What Liliana didn't know was that she had the wrong man.And somewhere above Marco sat the most dangerous man in the entire Falcone family—a ruthless Mafia Don who already knew exactly who she was.Now his online sweetheart had blocked him.And Don Alessandro Falcone had no intention of letting her disappear that easily.

Underworld queen Cecilia quits the game to be a housewife for her wife-crazed husband until his manipulative ex-girlfriend comes back with a rich backer to kick her out at a family banquet.She slaps the ungrateful sister-in-law, chokes the ex, leaks the mother-in-law's cheating pics, and then fakes helplessness the second her husband shows up to destroy the ex. After he beats the crap out of the ex, Cecilia leans down to sneer in her ear: "I can wipe out your whole family in 2 seconds.How dare you mess with me?"

Late one night, a thread blew up and hit the front page of a famous forum deep in New York’s underworld. The original poster had dug up an old prompt: “Name three words that sum up your youth.” Then an account that’d been dormant for years popped up in the replies. Its avatar was a backlit silhouette of a girl in a white dress, username: Seraphina. That was Seraphina Rossi. The Rossi family heiress, the undisputed it girl of New York’s underworld. She typed: Vibrant. Passionate. And Rico Valentino. All hell broke loose in the thread. The wild Valentino’s heir and the breathtaking Rossi heiress had once loved each other hard, only for it all to end in bitter regret. Nearly everyone in New York’s underworld had watched that heartbreak play out. Including me. I turned my head, staring at the man sleeping beside me. This was the man next to me: the once reckless kid who’d ruled the streets of Queens with his bare fists, now the Don of the Valention family. Poised. Unshakable. And he didn’t love me. I’d always known Rico still kept in touch with Seraphina. That he’d met her in secret, more than once. That’s why he’d refused to make our marriage public. His excuse was always the same: “Keeping your identity off the grid keeps our enemies from targeting you.” But I knew I was the one standing between Rico and the woman he’d never stopped loving. If all three of us were just going to keep hurting like this? I’d rather walk away. Let them have each other. I’d made up my mind. I was divorcing Rico.

My body matured faster than most girls my age. When I turned 18, my overprotective brother worried I’d be taken advantage of, so he asked his best friend to look after me. But the first time we met, that man's eyes never left my body. After I graduated from college, he kept crossing the line, again and again. By day, he was my boss, and by night, I was his "personal assistant." For four years, we kept our affair a secret. He molded me into exactly what he liked, and the worst part? I let him. One day, his ex-fiancée came back from overseas. He slipped out of my bed in the middle of the night and rushed to the airport to pick her up. Humiliated but unwilling to let go, I followed him there, only to watch him gently stroke another woman’s hair right in front of me. He turned to me and said, "Jennifer Huckabee, four years ago, you were the one who crawled into my bed while I was drunk. The way you're behaving now… it’s really pathetic." The way he looked at her was soft, and the way he mocked me was sharp and deliberate. I suddenly realized he was right. This was meaningless. So I lowered my head, texted my brother to tell him I’d accept the Sinclair family marriage proposal, then looked up at that man and smiled. "Alright then. Goodbye."