
![[ENG DUB] Day One Back, No Mercy](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
In her past life, Rosie was used as a luck tool. Her parents drained her fortune, doted on Willa, and cast her aside. She died on the streets, mourned only by Brad and Queenie, who were dragged down with her. Back to life again, she runs into Brad's arms with a smile. "Dad, need a daughter? One who brings luck and fortune."

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.

Five years ago Melissa Gill and Lewis Sharp share one night together and she vanishes before dawn without a word. Five years later he engineers her return, traps her into signing a three year marriage contract, and makes absolutely clear he has no intention of letting her disappear again. By day he runs cold and sharp, pulling her close enough to make her heart stutter then pushing back just enough to keep her off balance. She carries secrets and guilt she hasn’t found a way to say out loud, and she lets him circle her without quite letting him in. Neither of them calls it love. Both of them know exactly what it is.

At eighteen, Nancy Green earns the highest college entrance score in the entire county, and her parents respond by spending ten times her tuition on a motorized tricycle for her brother. With her dream about to die in a mountain village, it is her uncle who quietly sells the family’s last three sheep and presses the money into her hands without ceremony. Nancy carries that sacrifice like a weight and a wing, into a cutthroat corporate world where she battles betrayal and manipulation until she has built a billion-dollar empire from nothing. She confronts the parents who bled her dry with cold, clear-eyed finality. Then her uncle falls gravely ill, and on his deathbed whispers: hate will drag you down. It cracks open something she has armored for twenty years. In the end, Nancy founds a scholarship fund bearing his memory and gives other mountain girls the door someone once opened for her.

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.

Emily Porter, an ordinary housewife, finds herself shunned by her mother-in-law for giving birth to a daughter instead of a son. Her husband, Joe Baker, driven by greed for a hefty insurance payout, conspires with his lover to murder Emily. In a calculated move, Joe stages a car accident that leaves Emily in a vegetative state. In a shocking turn of events, he goes as far as to bury his comatose wife alive, only to rush off to marry his mistress moments later. But fate has a twist in store, as Emily awakens, ready to seek justice and reclaim her life.

Rescued by Gabriel three years prior, Jennifer Gibson marries him, only to face betrayal from his family. Jennifer, aiding Gabriel in secret, realizes their deceit. Three years later, she awakens to reclaim her status as the Wealthiest Heiress.

After I was caught in a dockside explosion, I was bound to a Survival Program. It gave me twenty-five years and four designated targets. If even one target’s Love Score or bond score reached 100%, I could wake up in my real world. But I failed all four. Because every target I tried to reach eventually turned toward Sophia Lane, the heroine of this world. They called my pain a performance. They called my tears manipulation. They said I was only pretending to break down so they would choose me over Sophia. But if they never loved me, why did they lose control when my mission failed and I chose to leave this world for good?

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.