

The wealthiest tycoon's daughter, Eva Stone, conceals her identity to be with the financially struggling Wills Zuck. However, Wills, driven by ambitions to align himself with the influential, betrays her by having an affair with the impostor, Lina Clark, who poses as Eva Stone. In the ultimate revelation, Eva unveils her true identity, delivering a resounding blow to the unfaithful man and deceitful woman in a compelling tale of intrigue and personal triumph.

After serving the country with distinction, Rosanne Ashford learns the powerful Todd family has harmed her daughter Daisie Larson. Returning home for justice, she finds her husband Alvin Larson engaged to Veronica Todd. In a fury, Rosanne disrupts the engagement party, blacklists the Todd family, and successfully rescues Daisie. Further investigation reveals the Todd family were merely puppets of Ronald Locke, the Prince of the North. To protect both family and country, Rosanne must engage in a fierce battle with Ronald...
![[ENG DUB] Don't Mess With the Heiress](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
The wealthiest tycoon's daughter, Eva Stone, conceals her identity to be with the financially struggling Wills Zuck. However, Wills, driven by ambitions to align himself with the influential, betrays her by having an affair with the impostor, Lina Clark, who poses as Eva Stone. In the ultimate revelation, Eva unveils her true identity, delivering a resounding blow to the unfaithful man and deceitful woman in a compelling tale of intrigue and personal triumph.

Seven years ago, Clara Snow saved Clyde King, the tycoon of Portis, and later gave birth to his child. Now, with the Snow family bankrupt and her son in need of medical treatment, Clara agrees to marry for money. Meanwhile, her former maid Mary Cox returns from abroad and catches the eye of Clyde's father, who arranges her marriage to Clyde. To outshine Clara on their wedding day, Mary deliberately schedules her ceremony for the same day. But in a twist of fate, Clara ends up mistakenly married to Clyde...

Six months ago, I was accidentally poisoned by wolfsbane. The poison is deadly, and my days are numbered. My body gradually weakens. Today, my wolf is completely gone, and I have three days left to live. On the last day before I draw my final breath, I agree to donate my kidney to my sister. Thrilled, my mate swears that he'll make it up to me someday. My sister is being swamped with insults on the college forum after she was caught plagiarizing my Belladonna thesis. But I come forward and claim that I'm the one who plagiarized it. Mom and Dad are pleased, saying I've finally become mature. At last, I've become the perfect mate and daughter in their eyes. But why are they crying after my body has turned cold and lifeless?

Someone @'d me on Nextdoor. "Hey, penthouse girl. You're single. What do you need a whole rooftop garden for? My husband's throwing a party. We'll be needing it starting tomorrow." "Don't worry, we'll give you two hundred bucks a month for upkeep. You'll make a couple hundred for doing jack shit. You should be thrilled." I stared at the screen. It was a joke. I was Don Ricci's heir, groomed to run the South Side. But I traded that life for a paintbrush. This apartment was my sanctuary, my quiet place. That rooftop garden wasn't some building perk. It was mine. I'd paid half a million cash for the deed when I bought the place. I turned it into my sunroom studio. And now someone thinks they can have it for two hundred bucks a month? I replied with two words: "Dream on." I didn't expect the building manager and two security guards at my door the next day. Someone had filed a complaint about me "misusing community resources." And now, for the sake of "neighborly harmony," they were demanding my keys. Fine. They wanted to throw civility out the window? They were about to learn what real power felt like.

As Don's mysterious heiress, Loretta is stepping out of shadows after she's had enough of humiliation from her father's mistress. The moment her true identity is revealed, she'll expose the traitors and corruption within the mafia house, and make everyone who crossed her family pay.

I married Don Matteo in secret. Every time he fucked his childhood sweetheart, he promised me a real wedding,in front of the Five Families. For five years, Matteo promised me ninety-nine times. And ninety-nine times, he left me at the altar. The first time, Cecilia’s prize-winning show cat died. To comfort her, he postponed the wedding for three months. I stood at the altar alone, eyes red, trying to calm down the family elders. The second time, Cecilia threw a tantrum at a casino and shattered a hundred-million-dollar antique vase. He diverted the private jet meant for their wedding and rushed through the night to clean up her mess. And every time, right before our wedding, his childhood sweetheart would have some kind of emergency. I cried. I screamed. I even held a gun to his head. But Matteo would just pin me against the wall and shut me up with a cold, hard kiss. “She’s just a fuck. You are Mrs. Falcone. Have some goddamn class.” After the ninety-ninth time, I was finally done. I slid the papers across the table. The ink was still wet, the Falcone family seal stamped at the bottom. “Our marriage, our alliance—it’s over.”

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.