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"Once the undisputed king of the Northlands underworld, Leon Hart has long retired and now lives as a pork seller. When street thugs try to extort him, his former subordinate Damon steps in. Leon reveals his reason for walking away—to keep his son, Felix, far from violence.That peace ends with a sudden phone call. Three hours earlier, Felix and his childhood friend Lillian are harassed at a bathhouse by Casper, the spoiled son of Damon. To Felix's shock, Casper's girlfriend is his own fiancée, Tamara, who openly abandons and humiliates him. For amusement, Casper locks Felix and Lillian inside a high-temperature sauna, intending to kill them. Leon arrives in time, defeats Casper's men, and breaks them out. Desperate, Casper pulls an illegal gun and forces a game of Russian roulette.As the trigger is about to be pulled, Damon bursts in with armed men, shouting at his son to stand down. In the grip of the gun's silence, the storm long buried beneath the surface finally erupts."

Sarah Young had a crush on Zain Xavier for seven years. Unexpectedly, she became his wife, and everyone laughed at her for going from rags to riches. However, she ignored them and only cared that Zain was finally hers. When they got married, she didn't care if he didn't love her now. She was confident he would fall in love with her in the end. However, it soon became boring as Zain was never interested. Sarah felt that she was rich, pretty, and had amazing curves. Why should she waste her time on a cold robot like Zain? Immediately after coming to her senses, she slammed the divorce papers before Zain. After that, they would both go on different paths. Zain could hit the high road while she had fun with young, handsome men. After the divorce, Zain often found his ex-wife's scandals on the trending list. Last night she was captured having dinner with the new rich in xx tech company, and today she was building a new "love nest" with a handsome internet celebrity??? Zain threw his phone away and cursed, "Fuck with this love nest! That's my woman!" To that, Sarah, who was enjoying life, replied, "Sir, who are you?" 

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.