

In the VIP lounge of an underground casino, Maeve, the Falcone family's princess, had been plied with too much hard liquor. Fueled by alcohol, someone goaded her into revealing the most shameless thing she'd ever done to win over the Don. She swirled her glass, pointed at me dealing cards behind the table, and threw her head back with a laugh. "Seven years ago, when Declan was in a coma after a shootout, I took his private phone. And I deleted the distress message that bitch sent him. Every last trace of it. Then I replied in his name: You're a burden. Go die." "You'll never guess what happened next. That idiot stood outside the safe house all night in a downpour, like a stray dog. I almost died laughing…" The room erupted in crude laughter. Only the man enthroned at the head of the table remained silent. The crystal whiskey glass in his hand shattered with a sharp crack. Blood mixed with the amber liquor, trickling over the veins on the back of his hand before dripping onto the carpet. His murderous, bloodshot eyes were locked on me. I calmly dealt the last hole card in front of him and offered a clean, white silk handkerchief. "Don Declan, you should wipe your hand. Blood on the felt is bad luck." After all, some stains never wash out.

5 years ago, Seth Group's CEO, Rita Seth, fell in love with a construction worker, Drake Barton, and had a daughter.However, due to the social gap, Rita's father opposed their relationship. When Rita's inherited family leukemia relapsed and her life was in critical danger, her father used the excuse of not providing a bone marrow transplant to force Drake to leave Rita. Drake, deeply in love with his wife, had no choice but to agree to leave in order to save her life. Upon learning the truth, Rita went to see Drake, only to witness him hit by a car. Overwhelmed with grief, she fainted on the spot.Taking advantage of this, Rita's father left her and Drake's child, Dana, at the accident site.

The apocalypse struck, zombies overran the world, and Riven Hoyle awakened as the Zombie King with a secret system, feared overlord of the undead. But in the ruins, he found a tiny, cute baby... who's secretly Elara Harvey, the reincarnated human empress Sovran!Now, the aloof Zombie King dotes on his adopted daughter, leading millions of corpses to raze the wastelands, all to protect her.Meanwhile, the infant Sovran hides her sharp claws beneath swaddles. When a monster becomes a doting dad,and a baby ruler starts to flex her power, the end of the world is about to get wild.

Sophie, a hardworking but overlooked Common-Blood vampire, dies alone in the basement of her family’s mansion on the very day she is supposed to receive the Coven’s Distinguished Service Award. While her parents, brother Conner, blood-bond mate Ryan, and favored Pure-White-Blood sister Ella celebrate Ella’s college graduation upstairs, Sophie is attacked by three rogue vampires. She is drained, violated, and left with a fatal head wound. Her desperate phone calls for help are dismissed as “tantrums.” Her family continues to treat her absence as attention-seeking. They decide to “teach her a lesson,” give her closet space to Ella, and only grow concerned when a holy-silver gift (stolen by Ella) burns Ella’s hand.

I went to exactly one party in my new, wealthy neighborhood. Then my neighbor Brenda sued me. In court, she held her bruised and battered daughter, Tiffany. She accused my son of rape. Mid-hearing, Tiffany tugged her collar down. Red marks circled her neck. "He tried to rip my pants off," she sobbed. "He tried to force himself on me. I fought back. So he beat me. He ruined my face!" Outside the courthouse, protesters held up signs, calling my son a piece of trash, a spoiled rich kid. Online, a photoshopped memorial of me went viral. The caption read: The unfit mother should die with her son. My company’s stock plummeted. But I just sat there. Stone-faced. I asked for my son, Cooper, to be brought in. The courtroom doors opened. Cooper walked in. Everyone froze.

I went to exactly one party in my new, wealthy neighborhood. Then my neighbor Brenda sued me. In court, she held her bruised and battered daughter, Tiffany. She accused my son of rape. Mid-hearing, Tiffany tugged her collar down. Red marks circled her neck. "He tried to rip my pants off," she sobbed. "He tried to force himself on me. I fought back. So he beat me. He ruined my face!" Outside the courthouse, protesters held up signs, calling my son a piece of trash, a spoiled rich kid. Online, a photoshopped memorial of me went viral. The caption read: The unfit mother should die with her son. My company’s stock plummeted. But I just sat there. Stone-faced. I asked for my son, Cooper, to be brought in. The courtroom doors opened. Cooper walked in. Everyone froze.

Three days before our wedding, my fiancé, Raphael Russo, was killed in a gang shootout. They didn't even find a body. As I was drowning in grief, comments suddenly flashed before my eyes: 【Wake up, girl! the coffin's empty! He faked his death! The scumbag ran off to be with that scheming bitch chloe, the one pretending to be sick!】 【While you're crying your eyes out at the funeral, Raphael is fucking Chloe’s brains out in a hotel bed.】 【When he comes back, he'll claim he has amnesia. You won't know a thing and you'll forgive him. You poor thing…】 A month later, news of my marriage to Mafia Don Marcello Falcone spread through New York. Raphael’s right-hand man cornered me, furious. “How could you betray the Boss?” I tightened my grip on Marcello’s arm and smiled. “A girl can’t mourn forever, can she? I’m sure Raphael, in spirit, would be happy for me.”

To investigate an underground casino, journalist Waldron is betrayed and killed by its manager, Samuel. Three years later, his daughter Winona, now a master card cheat, infiltrates Samuel's casino to save her aunt from gambling addiction and hunt down her father's killer.

Phil Preston, a plain young man from modern society, suddenly awakens in the body of a feared Demon Lord from a cultivation tale with no spiritual power at all. At the same time, he is forcibly bound to a “Strongest Saint System” that promises one thing—do good, or die. In a desperate bid to survive, Phil halts the slaughter of the righteous sects and orders his subordinates to abandon violence and become farmers instead.

After his first love died, Oscar hated me for ten years. I tried everything to soften him. Nothing worked. "If you really want to please me, go die." The words cut deep. But when the riot came, he threw himself in front of me and was hacked down where he stood. He stared at me as he bled out. "If only… my fated mate hadn't been you." At his funeral, his parents wept. "We should have let him be with Catherine. We forced him to marry her, all because of that damn prophecy." Windvale Pack lived by prophecy. Years ago, the Seer had foretold that if Oscar didn't take his fated mate as his bond-mate, disaster would fall on the pack. I was that fated mate. But now, everyone wished I never had been. Even me. I was driven from the funeral, hollow. Then the Moon Goddess descended. She offered me a chance—ten years back—on two conditions. I would not become Oscar's mate. I would prevent Catherine's death. I said yes without thinking.