

The second day after I was transferred back to Los Angeles, I ran into someone I used to know on a street corner. She stepped right in front of me, eyes going wide. “Mia? Mia Rossi? Why would you come back now? Dante's marrying Camille at the cathedral in a week.” Dante was my first love, and also the youngest heir to a mafia dynasty on this side of the Atlantic. He'd made me a promise once: that he'd make the entire Moretti family kneel and welcome me in. We had a deal: the day he officially took over as Don would be the day he married me. But his family had other plans. They arranged a match for him: Camille, a princess from one of Sicily's five great families. Pure bloodline, the genuine article. At first, Dante swore up and down she meant nothing to him. Less than nothing. Then I started noticing how he looked at her. Softer every time. Like he was falling. One night, riding home after a shift at the bar, Camille's car came out of nowhere and took me down. The gas tank caught, and half the block reeked of burning rubber and scorched metal. I was pinned under the wreckage, blood seeping from the back of my skull down my neck, warm at first, then cold. Dante was the first one there. He beat the ambulance. The first thing he did was walk past me. He crouched down, lifted Camille out of the passenger seat, and didn't look at me once, just dropped a few words over his shoulder: “I already called an ambulance. Hang tight. Camille's had too much to drink. I need to get her home.” That was the moment I was done with him. Completely, finally done. While he was gone, I discharged myself. I bought the farthest plane ticket I could find that same night and left without looking back. Five years passed. “Mia, you have no idea.” The woman grabbed my wrist, dropping her voice. “Dante spent years turning half of Europe upside down looking for you. You came back at the right time. He still keeps a seat for you every month on his birthday. Camille's too proud for a lot of things

My husband, Cesare Ferrante, the most feared Don of the Ferrante family, had always hated children. Yet everything changed the moment my stepsister, Bianca Moretti, moved in next door with her six-month-old baby. Suddenly, my husband became obsessed with that child. He personally fed the baby formula, sang lullabies, and carried the baby everywhere he went. Every day, he came home exhausted at dawn, yet his face glowed with joy, as if that baby occupied his entire soul. I became invisible to him. Three days ago, someone forced my car off the road, and I crashed into the median. Blood streamed down my forehead, and my vision swam. I called Cesare 55 times. He did not answer a single call. Instead, he posted a photo of the baby on his social media. [My little angel smiled today!] I had had enough. Tonight at the family banquet, every member of the famiglia was seated around the table. I raised my final toast, then set down my glass. "I want a divorce." They all froze. "Are you insane?" My parents' voices rose in unison. Cesare grabbed my wrist, disbelief written across his face. "Giulia, you want to divorce me just because I was busy taking care of the baby and didn't answer your calls? You're actually jealous of a six-month-old child?" I did not meet his eyes. Instead, I stared at the glaring kiss mark behind his ear. "Since you love that child so much," I said calmly, "I'll make it easy for you. Go be that child's father."

"I loved Dante Rossi for twenty years. I gave up my medical career, my dreams, and my dignity for him. On the eve of our wedding, I discovered he had gotten another woman pregnant — his childhood companion, Isobel. So on what should have been the happiest day of my life, I canceled the wedding, burned every photo and letter, and disappeared without a trace, leaving only one sentence on our calendar: “Let’s break up, Dante.” Two years later, I returned as a successful medical researcher, engaged to a man who truly loves me. But Dante finally learned the truth — I was the one who took a bullet for him five years ago, not Isobel. Now the once-arrogant heir of the arms empire has lost everything. He kneels before me, regrets eating him alive, and begs for another chance. He even blocked a knife meant for me with his own body. But it’s too late."
![[ENG DUB] What the Fire Left Standing](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
Three years ago, the Jones family conspires with Jett Harrington's ex-girlfriend Hannah Mack to frame him and send him to prison. Behind bars, a master takes him under his wing, teaching him unmatched martial arts and skills, and leads him to conquer the Western World, where he earns the nickname "The Reaper." He returns home to settle old scores, and along the way saves Sylvia Cole by chance. Unwilling to accept a family-arranged marriage, Sylvia asks him to be her shield and fake a marriage with her instead.

To save his collapsing company, Ray Shaw married the Lee family's heiress,Hannah, abandoning his fiancée, Quincy Channing, who loved his brother, Harry. When he returned triumphantly, Quincy came crying and begged him not to leave.

"Julia once believed Adrian was the man who would love her for a lifetime. But after her adopted sister Bella returned with her daughter, everything changed. Adrian began choosing Bella over Julia again and again. Every broken promise, every forgotten anniversary, and every moment he left Julia behind became another disappointment. When Julia reached her hundredth disappointment on her birthday, she finally stopped waiting for him. She filed for divorce and left the country to finish the research she had once given up for her marriage. Only after losing her did Adrian realize how much he had taken her love for granted. But by then, Julia had already started a new life. As Adrian desperately tried to win her back, Julia rebuilt herself through her career and found someone who truly respected and loved her. This time, she didn't choose the man who once left her behind. She chose herself. "

I spent six months and over $20,000 to plan a family vacation. However, when my mate’s childhood sweetheart Victoria heard about our trip, she begged to join us. Alexander didn't hesitate. He cancelled my spot in the protected convoy and gave it to her instead. He forced me to travel alone through deadly Shadow Pack territory - a thirty-six hour journey where three wolves had died last month. The whole family supported Alexander's decision without a thought for my safety. So I changed my travel plans. I headed north instead of south. I spent three months enjoying myself, ignoring their mindlink message. That's when the family started to panic...

Three years ago, the Jones family conspires with Jett Harrington's ex-girlfriend Hannah Mack to frame him and send him to prison. Behind bars, a master takes him under his wing, teaching him unmatched martial arts and skills, and leads him to conquer the Western World, where he earns the nickname "The Reaper." He returns home to settle old scores, and along the way saves Sylvia Cole by chance. Unwilling to accept a family-arranged marriage, Sylvia asks him to be her shield and fake a marriage with her instead.
![[ENG DUB] Time Loop: My Decision to Leave My Family Behind](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
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.