

Noah Marr is the last surviving bloodline of his parents, a young heir who sleeps until noon, counts money until his hands cramp, and lists eating and gaming as his highest aspirations. At his own birthday banquet he announces these goals without embarrassment, and the room collectively writes him off as a useless rich boy. His fiancee moves to break off the engagement. Nobody takes him seriously. Noah takes none of it personally. Then, the people responsible for his parents’ deaths finally step into the light, and everyone who ever laughed at him gets a very different look at who they were actually dealing with. Every sneer he absorbed, every dismissal he let slide, was just silence before the thunder.
![[ENG DUB] Forget Me Not, My Wild Girl](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
Finley Sharpe, a fish vendor, enters a contract marriage with Yale Shaw. By spreading rumors and flattering him,she wins his trust and affection. But just after they confess their love,a head injury restores Finley's lost memories—while erasing all memories of Yale. Desperate to win her back, Yale pulls every trick he can think of... even pretending to be blind.
![[ENG DUB] Never Forgiving, Natalie Remarries](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
After Hector brands her barren and shameful, Natalie dials a number that changes everything and becomes the wife of the city's real ruler.When Hector begs at her wedding, she moves away from him and into Ethan's embrace. Ethan announces, ice-cold, "Just so you know, she's my wife."

Right before our Mating Ceremony, my mate, Alpha Damien, told me he had to temporarily mark an Omega from our pack, Seraphina. He claimed she had the Moon Sickness and would die if he didn't mark her. I fought him on it, but the next day, he moved Seraphina right into the penthouse of the Pack House. The suite meant for the future Luna. My suite. To calm me, he even got on his knees, his eyes red as he promised, "Once she's safe, I'll remove the mark. You'll still be my only Luna." But then, Seraphina found me, a medical report in her hand. Six weeks pregnant. They'd already held their marking ceremony long before Damien ever came to me. My heart shattered into ash. My pen dug into the calendar, carving a vicious X over the date that was supposed to be our Mating Ceremony. Then, I opened my laptop and replied to the email from the European Laurel Healers' Guild. "I accept your invitation. I leave on the day of the Mating Ceremony."

Right before our Mating Ceremony, my mate, Alpha Damien, told me he had to temporarily mark an Omega from our pack, Seraphina. He claimed she had the Moon Sickness and would die if he didn't mark her. I fought him on it, but the next day, he moved Seraphina right into the penthouse of the Pack House. The suite meant for the future Luna. My suite. To calm me, he even got on his knees, his eyes red as he promised, "Once she's safe, I'll remove the mark. You'll still be my only Luna." But then, Seraphina found me, a medical report in her hand. Six weeks pregnant. They'd already held their marking ceremony long before Damien ever came to me. My heart shattered into ash. My pen dug into the calendar, carving a vicious X over the date that was supposed to be our Mating Ceremony. Then, I opened my laptop and replied to the email from the European Laurel Healers' Guild. "I accept your invitation. I leave on the day of the Mating Ceremony."

After my older sister Rachelle came home from dialysis, the atmosphere at home was suffocating. She curled up on the couch, thin as a rail. She was nagging me hard and telling me not to tire myself out too much at work. Dad was by the door smoking. To get money to treat Rachelle’s condition, he had sold our old house and land. Dirty and muddied, my fiance, who had always viewed Rachelle as a sister of his own, brought home his week’s salary. They all lamented how unfair life was to already poor and suffering people who had to suffer even more. I looked at myself in the mirror with my bleeding nose and flushed away the report with my acute leukemia diagnosis. During dinner, Dad suddenly said, “Ryleigh, Rachelle needs a kidney. You’re healthy and young. You might be a match.” I looked at Rachelle’s pleading eyes and coldly put my cutlery down. “I won’t do it. I’ll be a cripple with one less kidney. How am I supposed to find someone to marry then?” Dad slapped me hard, even as my fiance called me ungrateful. I slammed the door shut as I left. I looked for the nearest room to the hospital to rent so that I could wait it out until I died. The room I found was only five blocks away from the organ donation center.

A little over a month pregnant, I was happily looking forward to my wedding—until my fiance teamed up with my parents and brothers to put me on trial at the Court of Justice. They fabricated charge after charge, hoping to have me executed in the name of the law. If the judge found me guilty, I would be sentenced to death on the spot. Once I was dead, my corneas would be transplanted into my adopted sister, and everything I owned—my assets and insurance—would be claimed by them. Faced with my fiance’s betrayal and my family’s treachery, I fought back. I demanded the judge use the latest medical technology to extract my memories and project them on the big screen, letting the judge and hundreds of public jurors decide my fate. Just as everyone was smugly certain of their victory, the truth revealed by my memories moved the entire courtroom to tears.

Theo and Rose were a couple deeply in love with each other, but their relationship faced great opposition from Rose's family. As if that was not enough, Theo had to watch his own mother who had died of strange circumstances have her body torn apart by stray dogs, all because he was a child born out of wedlock! It was only after tackling the dogs that he was able to salvage a mere few bits of her corpse. In a rage, he would leave to fight a war in the northern borders. Channel

I am diagnosed with severe systemic lupus erythematosus, and I only have three days left to live. When my husband rejects my 188th plea for help, I take my test results and enter the hospice care center. "Hello, I'd like to schedule my own cremation process and apply for government aid." Ten minutes later, they arrive. Before I can speak, my lawyer husband, Jasper Horton, coldly slaps me across the face. "You're faking a terminal illness just to steal attention from Janice?" My doctor brother, Casey Carter, snatches the medical report from my hand and scoffs at it. "Lupus? If you're going to fake being sick, at least make it believable. Only one in a million people gets this." I endure the pain in my body, return to the counter, and hand in the application form and my medical records once more. The staff member sees the butterfly-shaped rash on my wrist and sympathizes with me. "I have no family left," I say. "I'm requesting cremation in three days, location doesn't matter. I just don't want my death to burden anyone."