

To cover for her boyfriend, Nora Stuart admitted to killing someone in a car accident, and she was sentenced to three years in prison. One day, a man found Nora and wanted her to donate her blood to his grandson, Eric Finch. Nora accepted this deal to get out of jail early, but only to find out her boyfriend had been cheating on her with his boss. Feeling heartbroken, Nora agreed to marry Eric Finch.

"Champion ""Phantom"" Jax did five years for manslaughter. Now she's a street punching bag, with only her girlfriend Mia still by her side. When her coach is held at gunpoint, Jax is forced back into the underground circuit—a betting puppet winning fights that only tighten the noose. Then Mia takes the bullet meant for her and falls into a coma. That coma was the last straw. Jax burns her bridges and steps into the ultimate cage. Tank Voss, the underground king, thinks he's hunting a broken fighter. He's wrong. He's hunting a phantom. And phantoms don't bleed."

Three years ago, in an unexpected encounter, Jude Miller cured the insomnia of Ethan Gray, the CEO of Gray Corp. This led to an agreement for them to get married. However, three years later, Jude finds herself expelled by her malevolent mother-in-law and Ethan's mistress. While Ethan cold-heartedly watches Jude suffer, little does he know about her true identity...

On the day of my mate-bonding ceremony, my parents suddenly brought my mate home and told me the marking ceremony that day would be with someone else. “Your sister was poisoned by wolfsbane. There's no cure, and her dying wish is to become David’s mate.” “You’re her older sister. Can’t you be kind and help her out?” My mate also tried to persuade me. “Don’t worry, it’s just for show. After she dies, we’ll still be each other’s one and only.” Still, I refused. However, my parents forced me to drink a potion that blocked my mind link, tied me up, and threw me into the silver mine behind our villa. “We’ll untie you once the ceremony goes smoothly,” they said. But soon after they left, I was attacked by a vicious rogue wolf. After endless torment, I was killed. It was only when my body started rotting that they remembered I was still bound in the mine.

Rocco Falcone, who is the Falcone family's Don and my so-called husband, hangs up on me for what feels like the 99th time. Having been diagnosed with leukemia, I haul my ravaged body into the family lawyer's office. "I'm here to file for a divorce," I said. … When Rocco hears about it, he barges in with my family ten minutes later. The moment he enters, he slaps me. "Did you use the emergency line just to ruin Sofia's big night? Are you out of your mind?" Lily Marone, my mom, snatches the diagnosis right out of my hand and skims through it. She chuckles dismissively. "Did you fake being sick just to get attention? How many lies have you told since you were a kid, Claire?" Sofia Moretti holds Rocco's arm with tears in her eyes. "Forgive me, Claire. I shouldn't have taken the position. Please stop hurting yourself and Rocco." I wipe the blood from my mouth and turn back to the lawyer. "I have no family left. Please hurry with the divorce paperwork. I need it settled before my cremation in three days."

The air in the Parisian haute couture salon smelled like money and fear. I’d waited six months for my wedding dress. Now, it was draped over the shoulders of Sofia Ross—the trending influencer, and my mafia fiancé Vincent Cassio’s god-sister. The salon manager was sweating bullets, his eyes darting between me and the man lounging on the velvet sofa. Vincent Cassio stood up. He adjusted a fold of the diamond-encrusted train on Sofia with a casual flick of his wrist. “Her premiere next week needs a statement piece. She’s borrowing it. Pick something off the rack and stop making a scene.” His tone was flat, final. Under the crystal chandeliers, Sofia admired herself in the full-length mirror, a triumphant smile on her lips. I looked at my reflection in the same mirror, wearing jeans and a soaked trench coat. I looked like a lost tourist. Suddenly, the entire past year of planning felt like a sick joke. I didn’t yell. I just felt cold. Numb. I slipped the five-carat engagement ring off my finger. It hit the glass coffee table with a sharp, final click. “You’re right, Vincent. I don’t need this wedding dress. This wedding… I don’t need it either.”
![[ENG DUB] Misunderstood Love](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
"Give me another chance." He said in a hoarse voice. His voice was always like music to her ears. She smiled. "Mr. Jones, we're only in a contracted relationship." Her past was left on the day she gave birth to a stillborn and was abandoned in a mental hospital five years ago. While he was only one of the chess pieces in her game.

Trisha Greer woke up as the story's most hated military wife—her husband despises her, the child rejects her,and the scheming rival even tries to rally the village to burn her granary. With her portable space, she goes all out: harvesting hundreds of acres overnight, giving the village a taste of their own medicine, while saving her child and getting her husband under control.

After being released from my three-year sentence, Zoe Sanders finally found me in an underground fight club. The moment she saw me, she grabbed me by the collar and punched me across the face, her eyes burning red with fury. "Henry Goldman, who gave you the nerve to disappear like this? "And what the hell have you done to yourself?" I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and laughed carelessly. "One punch, one hundred thousand. "If you’re still angry, feel free to keep going. I could use the money for this year’s rent." Her fists trembled uncontrollably, but her voice softened. "Come home with me... apologize to Ronald Green. "He’s always been kind-hearted. He already forgave you for framing him." Her gaze swept over the scars covering my body, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. "Look at yourself. Covered in blood like this... what’s the difference between you and a stray dog digging through garbage?" My body stiffened. Then I turned and walked away. What she did not know was this: In prison, blood and violence were the only ways I learned to survive. "Don’t forget," she shouted after me, "I’m still your fiancée!" My footsteps stopped. How could I forget? Three years ago, on the night of our engagement, Ronald drugged me and sent me to a black-market auction. I was stripped of all dignity and sold like merchandise. That night, I became the laughingstock of the entire city. And the person who signed the papers that sold me… was my fiancée herself.

Quinn Edith was an ordinary office worker, enduring daily workplace bullying. But his real identity was the young genius who founded a company in his teens, and built the national corporate giant, Wright Group. Three years ago, a betrayal by his subordinate cost him his memory. Since then, he had lived as a bottom-tier salaryman.