

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.

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.”

Raymond Kane, who grew up on the kindness of Dalewood, returns home after achieving success.At the village chief's request, he brings two orphaned villagers, Evan Cross and Chloe Winslow, to the city for treatment of their rare illnesses. He cares for them as his own and spares no expense—but unaware of his sacrifices,they resent him and ultimately betray the one who gave them everything.

In his previous life, Felix Quick was neglected by his family and killed by his foster brother Harold. Before his death, Felix felt disheartened by his family, but when he woke up again, he found himself back on the day of his twelfth birthday, ten years ago. At the age of twelve, Felix was adopted by the Quick family, thinking he finally had a family, only to realize that they valued another foster son, Harold, much more, leaving him with only coldness and misunderstanding. In his previous life, Harold falsely accused Felix of adding an allergenic jam to the cake. This time, Felix did not deny it; instead, he cut ties with the Quick family on the spot and ran away from home.

The Northern Pack had one unbreakable rule: the Alpha heir could never bond with a human girl. Despite that, Alpha Kieran Wolfe still formed a mate bond with me. To be with me, he openly defied the Elders' Council. He endured 99 lashes and was forced to kneel at the altar for three days and nights. Even as blood soaked through his shirt, he smiled at me and said, "Elise, don't be afraid. I only want you." Eventually, the Elders' Council finally relented and agreed to let Kieran leave with me. However, there was one condition: he had to leave a pure-blood heir behind for the Pack. From that moment on, the phrase I heard most from Kieran was "wait". The first time, Kieran asked me to wait while he got another she-wolf to carry his pup. He slept with Cecelia Donati 33 times until she was carrying his pup. The second time, he told me to wait again because the first pup was a female, and the Elders wanted a male. So, Kieran slept with Cecelia 99 more times until she was carrying his pup again. Just when I thought our ordeal was finally over, their daughter, Tyra Wolfe, accidentally ate wolfsbane at her Meet the Pup Party. Everyone was convinced I had poisoned her. When they threw me into the freezing cold storage room, Kieran stood at the doorway with bloodshot eyes. "I told you to wait..." His gaze was ice-cold and cutting. "You know what wolfsbane means to our kind. Why would you hurt my pup?" The words "my pup" hit me like a knife to the heart. My fingernails dug deep into my palms as the pain tore through me. When the storage room door opened again, I loosened my bloodied hands. This time, I was not going to wait anymore.

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.

Dean Zela was forced by his daughter and son-in-law into a nursing home, only to realize it was nothing more than a prison for the elderly—once inside, there was no escape. Crushed by despair, he withered away and died. But to his surprise, God granted him a second chance at life. This time, Dean swore to cast out his daughter and son-in-law's family and reclaim everything that had once been stolen from him!

Sophie grew up in an orphanage and was adopted by the wealthy Johnson family when she was six. She spent twelve happy years being doted on by her three brothers and adoptive parents. But when her adoptive parents' biological daughter, Camille, returned, Sophie went from being the beloved child to someone misunderstood and hurt at the family's edges. Camille plotted against her at every turn, constantly framing Sophie, and the family chose to believe her, repeatedly hurting Sophie with their coldness, leaving her disheartened. Sophie decided to become the first volunteer for the "Sleep Project" her eldest brother had been planning for five years, repaying her adoptive parents for their care through a life experiment. On her eighteenth birthday, she completely broke ties with her family, walked alone into the sleep pod, and donated her corneas to her blind second brother. When she woke up thirty years later, her family was now gray-haired, but she could no longer remember them—leaving only that misplaced sense of family as an eternal regret in the river of time.