

Dorian Valmont, crown prince of the ancient Navorin era, awakens as a 6-year-old child in modern times after a drunken accident. With ancient wisdom hidden behind a child's face, he outsmarted every adult in the decaying Valmont family, tore down their corrupt legacy, and built a new empire from the ashes. Just when he's about to claim his rightful place as the head of the family, new enemies emerge from the shadows. Now, a storm is brewing—one that threatens to destroy everything he's built and expose the thousand-year-old secret he carries.

Seraphina once believed she was the only true love of the vampire prince Alistair. Five years ago, when her fiancé was caught having an affair with Isabella, it was Alistair who saved her and promised her eternity. Yet when she was pregnant and attacked by werewolves, Alistair abandoned her, transferred away all the healers, and caused the death of their child. Over the following five years, Alistair continued to favor Isabella. In the end, Seraphina’s heart completely died. She faked her own death and left—only for fate to bring them together once more.

On my twentieth birthday, I had to choose a husband from the six angel heirs. Everyone thought I would choose Adrian Seraphiel, the brightest golden-winged heir and the man I had loved for years. In my last life, I did. Because of me, he inherited eighty percent of House Seraphiel’s fortune and became the next ruler of the angel clan. But after our marriage, he got involved with Celeste, my adopted half-siren sister. When my dragon family cast her out of House Drakon, Adrian blamed me. From then on, he hated me. He surrounded himself with women who looked like her, humiliated me again and again, and finally replaced my life-saving medicine with slow poison. I died carrying his child, while the last of my dragon blood burned away. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on my twentieth birthday. This time, I decided to let them have each other. So in front of everyone, I chose Cassian Seraphiel, the sixth son of the angel family. Broken-winged. Mocked by everyone. No one believed he could ever inherit anything. The room burst into laughter. Adrian looked at me coldly and sneered. “Elena, are you choosing that useless cripple just to get my attention?” I ignored him. Because in my last life, after I died, this so-called useless cripple was the only one who collected my body, found the truth, and avenged me by stripping Adrian of his golden wings. But then Adrian stepped closer. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Funny,” he said. “That wasn’t who you chose in your last life.”

In my previous life, my girlfriend's childhood friend impersonated a rich heir and messed around with the fake power he had. I exposed him, and he crashed his car into me. In my final moments, my girlfriend's sister begged on her knees, pleading for my girlfriend's aid, hoping she could save me, but my girlfriend did nothing. "He wouldn't do that. Zacharias is beyond this. He would never dirty his hands for a nobody like this guy. He might be my boyfriend, but that doesn't mean he can do anything he wants. He'd better know his place." My girlfriend's sister remained on the ground for three days. In the end, Zacharias dragged her away, violated her, and killed her. Even at my dying breath, my girlfriend was still covering up for her childhood friend. She refused to believe Zacharias hit someone with a car and violated her sister. And then I was reborn. This time, I did not beg and plead for my girlfriend to give me a moment of her time. I called my brother instead. "Hey? Yeah, it's me. Some bastard impersonated me and is dragging my name through the mud. I need you to take that guy out. Also, I'm not marrying Annabelle Lawson. I'm taking her sister instead." I gave the Lawsons a lot of resources so they could grow, and what did I get in the end? An ungrateful woman who would leave me stranded and dying all for another man. With all their resources pulled, Annabelle and her childhood friend would be saying goodbye to their good old days and hello to their personal hell.

On my eighteenth birthday, the High King summoned the heirs of the four great clans—the Vampires, the Werewolves, the High Serpent Clan, and the Merfolk. He laid their portraits before me and said, "Choose one to be your bondmate." I did not hesitate. I pointed to Damon—the werewolf with no noble bloodline, born in a forgotten corner of the realm. The entire court erupted in disbelief. Everyone knew who I used to love. Alpha Iris—the heir of the most powerful Lycan bloodline. For seven years, I chased him with blind devotion. No matter how harshly he treated me, I never gave up. I confessed to him over and over, sometimes right in the royal court. I even performed a blood-binding ritual—slitting my wrist—to earn the right to marry him. In my previous life, I got what I wanted—I married him and we performed the mate bonding ceremony. With that union, he inherited the High King's resources and rose to become the ruler of all four clans. However, what I did not expect was that after our wedding, he turned around and marked my adoptive sister. My parents were furious and sent her away. From that day on, Iris hated me with a vengeance. He surrounded himself with women who all looked eerily like her. One by one, they came—each more vicious than the last. With his silent approval, they tore me down, piece by piece, until I was nothing more than a joke—no longer the queen I once was. The suffering pushed me into severe depression. Only suppressants keep my wolf form from spiraling out of control. Until one day, my medication was replaced with a slow-acting poison. He was the one who did it. I died alone, locked away in the cold palace, a child still growing inside me. However, fate gave me another chance. In this life, I would not make the same mistake. When the High King once again asked me to choose a partner for the marriage alliance, I chose Damon—the one no one ever noticed—without even blinking.

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.

I had been in a secret relationship with my mafia boyfriend, Dante Castellano, for seven years. No public contact. No photos together. No proof I had ever stood by his side. He told me, "Once I'm powerful enough that no one dares touch you, I'll make it official." I believed him. The day before our seventh anniversary, I found a ten-carat diamond ring in his suit jacket. I cried with joy, thinking seven years of hiding were finally over. The next morning, I wore my most expensive dress and sprayed on the only perfume he had ever given me. I practiced my smile in the mirror, the one I would give when he proposed. Then, my phone lit up with a breaking news alert. [Breaking News: Seven-Year Love Story Reaches Perfect Ending—Romance Blogger Alessia Romano Accepts Boyfriend's 100th Proposal!] In the photo, the influencer with eight million followers stood on her tiptoes, kissing a man. His hand rested on the back of her neck. On that hand was a scar I would never mistake. It was the scar Dante got when he took a knife for me.

My sister and I were reborn on the very day we were to be sent to the Demons as sacrificial vessels. That day, our husbands, the God of Water and the God of Fire, came to rescue us. However, this time, without any discussion, we made the same choice. We refused their rescue and willingly offered ourselves to the Demons. In our previous life, after they saved us, the Demons captured the God of Water's young apprentice as a replacement. In the end, she was flayed and had her bones torn out, dying a brutal and tragic death. Because of that, the God of Water and the God of Fire came to hate my sister and me deeply. They spread rumors that we were the Twin Blossoms of Ruin, destined to destroy the world, and forced us to the point where our souls were completely annihilated. When I opened my eyes again, my sister and I had returned to the moment when the Demons first captured us. We exchanged a glance and then announced in front of everyone, "We are willing to become the sacrificial vessels of the Dark Lord and the Demon King. Take us with you." The God of Water and the God of Fire left with their young apprentice, who was completely unharmed. They were relieved that they had finally protected the one they truly cared about. Only later did they realize their mistake, but by then, they were consumed with regret.

For seven years, Kelsey Dale ran a business empire from the shadows and called herself a housewife. She gave up her name, her position, and eventually her health to prop up a husband who needed her more than he admitted, including nursing him through a near-fatal illness with everything she had. On the day their infant son turns one hundred days old, Gaige Hamilton walks through the door with his mistress and their child, backed by his parents, and offers Kelsey a choice: accept them under her roof and keep managing the household, or leave without her son. Seven years. That is what they thought they were owed.

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.