

My daughter, Ruby Pratt, has leukemia. She needs a bone marrow transplant—and fast. Out of everyone in the family, my husband, Dan Pratt, was the only match. I begged him for an entire month before he finally agreed to go through with the donation. But on the morning of the surgery, he went completely off the grid. I stood outside the hospital all day, waiting. No calls. No texts. Not even a shadow. That night, his childhood friend, Valerie Kinder, posted on Instagram. In the photo, Dan was holding Valerie's hand with one arm and carrying her young son with the other—on a beach in Lulabo City. The caption read: [Soaking up the sun! Dan cleared his whole schedule to join us on a month-long trek and we finally made it to the coast! My little boy said Uncle Dan made his ocean dream come true. Pure joy!] My heart splintered. While I was drowning in worry over my daughter, he was off playing happy family with them. I wiped my tears and typed a comment beneath her post: [Not 'Uncle.' From now on, he's your son's father.] That night, I finally got a call from him. "Babe, don't be like this," Dan said. "You're not being fair. "Valerie's son has been bullied at school for not having a dad. I couldn't stand seeing him hurt, so I took them on this trip. It was supposed to help him heal. "I'll catch the first flight back tomorrow and head straight to the hospital to donate the marrow. I promise." I hung up with a bitter smile. The next morning, Dan rushed into the hospital room. But all he found on the bed was a death certificate.

Sophie grew up in an orphanage and was adopted by the wealthy Johnson family when she was six. She spent twelve happy years being doted on by her three brothers and adoptive parents. But when her adoptive parents' biological daughter, Camille, returned, Sophie went from being the beloved child to someone misunderstood and hurt at the family's edges. Camille plotted against her at every turn, constantly framing Sophie, and the family chose to believe her, repeatedly hurting Sophie with their coldness, leaving her disheartened. Sophie decided to become the first volunteer for the "Sleep Project" her eldest brother had been planning for five years, repaying her adoptive parents for their care through a life experiment. On her eighteenth birthday, she completely broke ties with her family, walked alone into the sleep pod, and donated her corneas to her blind second brother. When she woke up thirty years later, her family was now gray-haired, but she could no longer remember them—leaving only that misplaced sense of family as an eternal regret in the river of time.
![[ENG DUB] Sorry, I Don't Do Tragic Endings Anymore](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
Zoey Shaw wakes up inside a novel as the infamous villainess doomed to a tragic end.Refusing to follow the same path, she decides to rewrite her fate—no self-destruction, no foolish choices, just survival and a new beginning. When a shameless ex and a scheming rival show up to cause trouble, she’s ready. This time, she protects her husband, claims her happiness, and crushes every plot against her. She clears her family’s name and rises from ruin to glory.

I was reborn, back to the day before my wedding. The first thing I did? I swapped husbands with my sister. Last time around, I married Julian, a mild-mannered tech mogul. He couldn't handle my fiery temper, and I couldn't stand how soft he was. Our marriage crashed and burned in a year. My sister, sweet and timid, was in an arranged marriage with Robin Kane, the Don of New York's biggest crime family. She couldn't handle the brutal, chaotic life. Tormented by Robin's so-called childhood sweetheart, Isabella, she fell into a deep depression and died. So when I came back, I made a decision. I’d be the one to marry the Don. But I never expected that after the wedding, the cold, stoic Don would become a different man. Every night, he’d be on top of me, kissing me like he was obsessed, whispering, "Good girl. I'll make you feel good. Just one more time, baby?"

Centuries-old tiger demon Mavis Hoover is cast down to the mortal realm by Heaven to experience the complexities of human emotions. She awakens to find herself reborn as a vicious stepmother. To complete her trial, she learns to become a virtuous wife and mother, fiercely protecting her children, earning money to support the family, and even rooting out traitors. Through her daily interactions with her family, the once-aloof tiger demon gradually begins to understand true human feelings and eventually finds genuine love with her husband, Leon Saul.

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.

In this end-world where everyone worships heroes and shuns the beasts, I was thrown out of the shelter like a piece of trash for not being a hero, only to unexpectedly gain the power to decide whether the beasts live or die. So I opened a supply station outside the walls, and by selling the crystal cores found inside the beasts, I mastered the apocalypse and climbed to the peak of life. So what if they're heroes? Even S ranks work for me now!

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.