

Escaping from a pervert trying to buy her virginity, Julia kisses a stranger—Stephen, a billionaire who’s allergic to women. Years after their one-night stand, Julia returns with his child. But what she doesn’t know is that Stephen has been searching for them all along: the only woman he isn’t allergic to...and his child.

After a car accident and plastic surgery, a part-time worker wakes up with the face of a wealthy heiress. Living someone else's life, she seizes the chance to get revenge on the man who ruined her. But as she gets tangled with the heiress’s fiancé, an unexpected romance blooms—and so does the question: how far will she go to keep this borrowed life?

Julie Meyer is a divine maiden who spent a hundred and twenty thousand years trapped in a magic lantern because of the Evans family’s greed. Reborn, she finds them exactly as she left them—hungry for more than they deserve. So she gives it to them. Andy Evans wants to be emperor. Drake Evans wants total political power. Ruby Evans wants beauty beyond compare. Julie grants each wish with a smile, then watches as every desire curls back and destroys them from within. The revenge is precise, elegant, and utterly merciless. When the last wish is spent and the lantern finally goes dark, the debt is paid in full.

My daughter, Ruby Pratt, has leukemia. She needs a bone marrow transplant—and fast. Out of everyone in the family, my husband, Dan Pratt, was the only match. I begged him for an entire month before he finally agreed to go through with the donation. But on the morning of the surgery, he went completely off the grid. I stood outside the hospital all day, waiting. No calls. No texts. Not even a shadow. That night, his childhood friend, Valerie Kinder, posted on Instagram. In the photo, Dan was holding Valerie's hand with one arm and carrying her young son with the other—on a beach in Lulabo City. The caption read: [Soaking up the sun! Dan cleared his whole schedule to join us on a month-long trek and we finally made it to the coast! My little boy said Uncle Dan made his ocean dream come true. Pure joy!] My heart splintered. While I was drowning in worry over my daughter, he was off playing happy family with them. I wiped my tears and typed a comment beneath her post: [Not 'Uncle.' From now on, he's your son's father.] That night, I finally got a call from him. "Babe, don't be like this," Dan said. "You're not being fair. "Valerie's son has been bullied at school for not having a dad. I couldn't stand seeing him hurt, so I took them on this trip. It was supposed to help him heal. "I'll catch the first flight back tomorrow and head straight to the hospital to donate the marrow. I promise." I hung up with a bitter smile. The next morning, Dan rushed into the hospital room. But all he found on the bed was a death certificate.

The doctor told me I had 72 hours left, unless I got access to the newest experimental treatment. However, there was only one slot available, and my husband Bowen Liddell gave it to my sister Yvonne Lawson instead. "Her kidney failure is more critical," he said. I nodded and swallowed the white pills that would only speed up my death. In the time I had left, I got a lot done. The lawyer's hand trembled as he passed me the documents. "Are you sure you want to transfer the two billion dollars in shares?" I replied, "Yes. Give them to Yvonne." My daughter, Candice Liddell, was giggling in Yvonne's arms. "Mommy Yvonne bought me a new dress!" I said, "It looks beautiful. Make sure you always listen to Mommy Yvonne, okay?" The art gallery I built from the ground up now had Yvonne's name on the sign. "You're too kind, Kathy," she said, crying. I told her, "You'll run it even better than I ever did." I even signed all my parents' trust fund away. That was when Bowen finally gave me his first genuine smile in years. "Kathleen, you've changed. You're not so aggressive anymore... You're beautiful like this." Indeed. This dying version of me finally became the 'perfect Kathleen Sullivan' in their eyes—obedient, generous, and no longer argumentative. The 72-hour countdown had already begun, and I couldn't help but wonder what they would remember when my heart stopped for good. The good wife who 'finally learned to let go', or the woman who completed her revenge by dying?

At 18, Nadia Wolfe fell in love and began a secret ten-year affair with her father’s subordinate, Jack Mayer.When her brother died and her father became gravely ill, she begged him to marry her—only to be rejected again in favor of his childhood friend, Bree Ewing. This time, Nadia didn’t cry. She knelt before the gods, offered a prayer, and chose the fierce mercenary Lucian Wyler, setting the fastest possible wedding date.

In her past life, Portia Brooks injures her legs trying to save her birth mother, only to get drained dry by her bloodsucking family while her fiance and sister hook up right over her deathbed. This time around,she cuts them all off without a second thought. She destroys her parasitic family, dumps her cheating fiance, and completely destroys her backstabbing sister. With her incredible skills at restoring antiques, Portia quickly marries Wesley Locke, Northden's richest man,and uses his connections to get her revenge. Family love that shows up too late is worthless. This time, she only protects her adoptive mother and her real love, making sure her enemies pay with everything they've got.

I married Don Matteo in secret. Every time he fucked his childhood sweetheart, he promised me a real wedding,in front of the Five Families. For five years, Matteo promised me ninety-nine times. And ninety-nine times, he left me at the altar. The first time, Cecilia’s prize-winning show cat died. To comfort her, he postponed the wedding for three months. I stood at the altar alone, eyes red, trying to calm down the family elders. The second time, Cecilia threw a tantrum at a casino and shattered a hundred-million-dollar antique vase. He diverted the private jet meant for their wedding and rushed through the night to clean up her mess. And every time, right before our wedding, his childhood sweetheart would have some kind of emergency. I cried. I screamed. I even held a gun to his head. But Matteo would just pin me against the wall and shut me up with a cold, hard kiss. “She’s just a fuck. You are Mrs. Falcone. Have some goddamn class.” After the ninety-ninth time, I was finally done. I slid the papers across the table. The ink was still wet, the Falcone family seal stamped at the bottom. “Our marriage, our alliance—it’s over.”

"I loved him for three years. I gave up my noble identity, hid my cursed bloodline, and endured endless humiliation just to stay by his side. Until the night of his childhood friend Charlotte’s ascension ceremony — when she poisoned my blood wine and triggered my blood nucleus eruption in front of the entire coven. I lay on the cold marble floor, begging for help, my golden blood spilling everywhere… but my fiancé, Ethan Cross, Lord of the Shadowfang Coven, coldly told me to stop acting and toasted to her instead. They laughed. They mocked. They poured silver liquor into my open wounds while I crawled like a dying dog. That night, my father — the feared Patriarch of the ancient Reece Clan — stormed in with his elites and dragged me out of hell. Three months later, I returned as the undisputed Prima Donna of the Eternal Night Theater, more radiant and powerful than ever. Ethan, now broken and regretful, kneels before me, begging for a second chance. "