

When Luca Moretti chose the jewelry for our wedding, he still bought two pieces and let my twin sister Bianca choose first. One was a ruby cuff from a Sicilian auction. The other was an off-the-rack black onyx bracelet, the kind sold in every mall jewelry store. For the first time, I reached before Bianca could. I pointed at the ruby cuff. "This time, can I choose first?" Luca set his palm on my head with the easy affection he used to make me behave. "Bianca has always been stubborn about quality. If it's not the best, she won't take it. You don't care about this stuff, Elena. The other piece isn't bad." I didn't answer right away. Something inside my chest went quiet. In my own family, Bianca always got the first slice, the clean seat, and the room with the view. My mother said she needed the best because she carried the Bellini name better. My father called it practical. Marriage worked that way too. The Bellinis and Morettis had promised one daughter to the Moretti heir long before either of us knew what love was. Everyone assumed that daughter would be Bianca. Instead, she made her position crystal clear: she'd rather keep her freedom and her spotless public image than become Mrs. Moretti. So Luca turned to the remaining Bellini daughter. I had known Luca for twenty years, and in his world, I always stood behind Bianca. I looked at the black onyx bracelet on the table and pushed it back. "Bianca can have both. I'm not choosing." I didn't want another leftover choice. Not anymore.

On my birthday, one of my husband’s subordinates leaned close to him and whispered in Russian, “Sasha has a surprise prepared for you tonight.” My husband smiled at me as he finished cutting my cake. Then, in the same language, he replied, “She has quite a few tricks in bed. I’ll see her later. “Just don’t let Madam find out, or I’m afraid I’ll get thrown out.” Everyone around laughed and assured keep it quiet. None of them knew that I’d been fluent in multiple languages since I was a child. What they also didn’t know was that I’d found the hidden phone he kept in the false drawer, where all the filthy videos of him and Sasha were saved. I didn’t confront him. Instead, I contacted a few remaining connections in the Vegas and had them prepare a new identity for me. In three days, Claire Vega would no longer exist, and he would never have me again.
![[ENG DUB] After He Placed an Unlimited Bid for His Mistress](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
Sharon Smith, Judiburg's most powerful CEO, catches her "perfect" husband, James Godwin, having an affair at an auction—with Rosie Saul, the very student she has financially supported for years. The betrayal cuts deeper:James has been spending Sharon's money to spoil his mistress, and secretly poisoning Sharon to seize her fortune. Sharon stays quiet, sets a trap, and tightens the net step by step—until the truth detonates in public and the lovers lose everything.

To defuse the bomb strapped to the hostage, I had no choice—I cut off all her clothes. My clueless new wife, Dana Poole, blasted it online. She cried as she faced me. "Why not at least leave her underwear on? You were saving her, I get it—but did you have to take everything? Doesn't a girl's dignity matter? With cameras everywhere, how is she supposed to live after this? You couldn't even cover her up?" The backlash exploded. The unit benched me to calm things down. So I stopped caring. I followed procedure, no improvising, no extra effort. Then one day, at the busiest mall in the city, Dana's mom got strapped into a brand-new linked bomb. This time, the whole unit panicked.

Miriam Kirk, a Venom Priestess from Spinegrove, faces a critical mission: she must conceive an heir within one year to become the next tribal leader. Carrying her mystical mutarite, a supernatural creature, she leaves her homeland searching for her destined partner. Her journey is fraught with unexpected challenges. In a twist of fate, the mutarite unexpectedly enters Bobby Puckett's body, launching Miriam and Bobby into a series of hilariously complicated and bizarre adventures that will test her sacred mission and challenge everything she knows about destiny.

"Please, stop pushing. I can't take this anymore." The concert venue is packed tight. A man behind me keeps pressing into my backside. I'm wearing a mini skirt today with a thong underneath, and it only makes the situation worse. He lifts my skirt and presses himself against my hips. As the atmosphere heats up, someone in front of me slams into me, and I stumble back a step. My body stiffens as I feel like something just slid inside me.

"Please, stop pushing. I can't take this anymore." The concert venue is packed tight. A man behind me keeps pressing into my backside. I'm wearing a mini skirt today with a thong underneath, and it only makes the situation worse. He lifts my skirt and presses himself against my hips. As the atmosphere heats up, someone in front of me slams into me, and I stumble back a step. My body stiffens as I feel like something just slid inside me.
![[ENG DUB] Deadly Deal: The Reversal](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
Maisie Kent is betrayed by her boyfriend, Jerry Ford, and Gigi Smith, signing a contract that costs her life. Reborn at the moment of signing, she pretends to comply while secretly swapping the contract. When Gigi tries the same trick in public, the harm rebounds instantly. Unscathed, Maisie watches coldly—on the deadly contract now stands a name no one dares to provoke.

Maisie Kent is betrayed by her boyfriend, Jerry Ford, and Gigi Smith, signing a contract that costs her life. Reborn at the moment of signing, she pretends to comply while secretly swapping the contract. When Gigi tries the same trick in public, the harm rebounds instantly. Unscathed, Maisie watches coldly—on the deadly contract now stands a name no one dares to provoke.

In this episode of GoodChat: The Great Cake-Off, Volo, Faith, and Sophie put their instincts to the test with a round of Cake or Real. As the desserts get more deceptive, the guesses get bolder, and more wrong. With each round, the stakes rise, because the loser pays the price: a dot of whipped cream straight to the face. Expect laughs, questionable confidence, and plenty of sweet (and messy) moments as the game unfolds.