

Orphaned Emily grew up under the care of her master, only to find out one day that he was actually the legendary Mystic Healer. When Arthur Wood, her master, discovers that the son of an old friend, Victor Shaw, is critically ill, he sends Emily down the mountain with an unusual mission: to marry Victor and save his life. After their wedding, Emily confidently vows to be the breadwinner, support her husband, and build a life for them both. Together, they hilariously take on Victor's scheming cousin and his ex-fiancée, with plenty of laughs along the way. Emily not only cures Victor's illness but also turns a tidy profit, building a thriving life for them. Through their time together, they experience warmth, heartfelt moments, and unexpected surprises. Before they know it, Victor and Emily find themselves falling head over heels in love.
![[ENG DUB] A Simple Drill Turned Dangerous](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
After crossing over to a parallel dimension, Jake Lowry has been selected to play the role of a bank robber during a bank robbery drill. On the day of the drill, when Jake is about to head over to the bank and start ""robbing"" it, an old lady collapses in front of him. Knowing that he's running out of time, Jake can only agree to let the old lady go with him to the bank so that he can withdraw money there and pay her for the injuries caused.But as soon as he enters the bank, Jake pulls out a ski mask from his bag and puts it on."This is a robbery! Get down right now!"

Living under the shadow of her stepmother and stepsister, an accidental encounter leave Bella unexpectedly pregnant. Bella has had trouble conceiving, and decides to keep the baby, while the father of the child is also looking for her -- a renowned tycoon, Richard. But Bella's step-sister catches wind of it and wants to impersonate her! Will Bella be able to escape tragedy and fulfill her destiny with her lover?

Antonio Rivera finally finds out that I haven't asked him for money in a week. For once, he sends me a text message to compliment me. "Darling, you've finally learned how to become a good Donna. I've had my men deliver this week's worth of miracle drugs to your mother's ward. As long as you remain docile and don't be greedy, I'll give you anything you want." What he doesn't know is that I'm printing out a divorce agreement when I receive his message while wearing an old dress from three years ago. No one will believe that I, the Donna of the Rivera family, have to ask Antonio's Consigliere, Elena Gallo, for money even when I need to buy myself some tampons. Hell, I have to apply for a leave request three days in advance if I wish to leave my home. Antonio keeps telling me that he's doing this to protect me. "It's too dangerous outside, sweetheart. All you have to do is stay at home like a good girl you are." But one week ago, Mom's illness took a turn for the worse. I begged Elena to skip the request and let me out of the villa. Elena, however, dragged out my request for seven long days. Only when Mom died did she finally permit me to leave. Miracle drugs? My mom is already dead. I'm no longer tolerating anyone or anything anymore.

Every April Fools’ Day, Wilson Hale and Chloe Mercer turned our anniversary into a joke. A fake proposal. A trick ring. A room full of laughter. And every year, Wilson was sure I loved him too much to leave. This year, cake cream slid down my face, my ring hit the marble floor, and he still smiled like I would forgive him by morning. He forgot one thing. I was not Vivian Gray, the lonely girl with nowhere to go. I was Vivian Vescari, daughter of the most feared mafia family on the East Coast. I had left that world because I wanted to be loved before anyone knew my name. For six years, I thought Wilson was that man. Then I learned even his first confession had been an April Fools’ bet. So I stopped being the joke. I went home.

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.

They have known each other since they were young, yet his bride isn't her. After being drugged, the wealthy man, Bradley Judd, saves her by spending a night with her. When they meet again, five years have passed. She returns to the country with a pair of twins, trying her best to keep them hidden. Nevertheless, he still finds them in the end.
![[ENG DUB] Surrounded by Twin Cuties](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
They have known each other since they were young, yet his bride isn't her. After being drugged, the wealthy man, Bradley Judd, saves her by spending a night with her. When they meet again, five years have passed. She returns to the country with a pair of twins, trying her best to keep them hidden. Nevertheless, he still finds them in the end.

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.