

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.

On our fifth dating anniversary, my boyfriend, Luke Bolton, gives me a cheap bracelet worth less than a hundred dollars. On the same night, he splurges ten million dollars on a yacht for his first love, Cindy Gale. I refuse to accept this, and he accuses me of making a scene. "I gave Cindy that gift to boost the company's stock price, not because I still have feelings for her," he says. "You're poor, and I still promised to marry you. Isn't that enough? This was actually your last test, Elisa Gray, but you failed it." I break up with him, and he immediately proposes to Cindy. Five years after that, we meet again at a luxury hotel during a business summit. His company is about to become an industry giant, and Cindy is holding onto his arm. When he sees me, I'm standing in a fountain, all drenched and disheveled. "Elisa," Luke sneers. "When you turned me down back then, did it ever cross your mind that you might end up worse than a homeless person? "Don't think acting pitiful here will make me feel sorry and take you back." I ignore him. My son's cherished blue diamond was a birthday gift from his father, and he accidentally dropped it into the fountain. He's so upset that he's about to cry, and I have to find it right away.
![[ENG DUB] The Fall That Made Her Rise](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
Three years later, when they reunited, Donna's first words to Henry were: "Mr. Ferrell, let's have a fake marriage."Having been deceived out of her fortune by the boyfriend she had supported for years, Donna finally realized the price she had paid. Well, if that's the case, she'd just switch to a different man.At the civil affairs office, Henry grabbed her arm tightly: "I never said I wouldn't agree."

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.”

Felicia was betrayed by her longtime boyfriend and, in her sorrow, she drunkenly entered the room of CEO Ryan. She woke up the next day, regretting the night and mistaking Ryan for a college student. Ryan, however, proposed marriage. After a quick wedding, Felicia took on family responsibilities, urging Ryan to study diligently. Ryan found this amusing until the day Felicia realized her husband was the CEO.

Wealthy heiress Sophia Yates dated poor college student Jack Young for four years. After her family went bankrupt, she broke up with him and got engaged to a playboy. Five years later, Jack returned as a tech mogul and found her working as a waitress.He tried to get close, but she misunderstood and kept pushing him away.

Harper Allen is born in Prosperity Village, where women possess a special constitution that produces multiple babies per pregnancy.Because they have too many children, the village is desperately poor. Harper is chosen by the villagers to work in the city and bring hope to everyone—and she just happens to run into the Lauren family patriarch offering a fortune for a grandchild.Perfect timing! With the old man’s arrangement, Harper marries Spencer Lauren, the aloof CEO cursed by his family bloodline of “Any woman who bears a Pierce heir will die.” But the prideful CEO refuses. What to do? No job is too difficult for a hardworking woman—she has plenty of strength and methods! That very night, she ties up the struggling Spencer and tosses him into the bridal chamber...

Harper Allen is born in Prosperity Village, where women possess a special constitution that produces multiple babies per pregnancy.Because they have too many children, the village is desperately poor. Harper is chosen by the villagers to work in the city and bring hope to everyone—and she just happens to run into the Lauren family patriarch offering a fortune for a grandchild.Perfect timing! With the old man’s arrangement, Harper marries Spencer Lauren, the aloof CEO cursed by his family bloodline of “Any woman who bears a Pierce heir will die.” But the prideful CEO refuses. What to do? No job is too difficult for a hardworking woman—she has plenty of strength and methods! That very night, she ties up the struggling Spencer and tosses him into the bridal chamber...
![[ENG DUB] In the Lap of Luxury](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
Despite being married for three years, Muse Dawn doesn't even get to hold hands with Jim Hawkins, let alone bear a child for him. After surviving a plane crash, Muse finds herself in the hospital, where she sees Jim accompanying another woman for a prenatal checkup. This makes Muse realize Jim's never had space in his heart for her. As soon as she ends the relationship, Muse changes back to the granddaughter of the world's wealthiest man. Since she can't be Jim's wife, she'll be his nemesis instead. She'd like to see who's the unworthy one now!

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.