

Seven years ago, Clara Snow saved Clyde King, the tycoon of Portis, and later gave birth to his child. Now, with the Snow family bankrupt and her son in need of medical treatment, Clara agrees to marry for money. Meanwhile, her former maid Mary Cox returns from abroad and catches the eye of Clyde's father, who arranges her marriage to Clyde. To outshine Clara on their wedding day, Mary deliberately schedules her ceremony for the same day. But in a twist of fate, Clara ends up mistakenly married to Clyde...

A week before Easter, Adrian gave me seven days off and had a ticket to Stockholm slipped into my bag. I thought he was finally learning how to care. Then I heard him talking to our son on the staircase. “Dad, are you really going to marry Aunt Bianca? What about Mom?” Noah was holding his model car, trying to sound brave. Adrian was quiet for a moment. “It’s only a legal marriage. Matteo is gone. Bianca and Sophia are exposed, and I can’t leave them that way. They need the DeLuca name for protection.” “Does Mom know?” “She can’t know.” His voice softened. “Keep this from her, Noah. On your birthday, I’ll buy you that Aston Martin model you want.” So the ticket was never a gift. It was a way to move me out of the picture. If he could put his family name on another woman, even for show, then I could take back the pride and ambition I had buried in this marriage. This time, when I left for the north, I would not come back.

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.”

After Eva's ex-boyfriend betrayed her, she unexpectedly found herself pregnant with another man's baby. Eva contacted her baby's father, Calvin, and registered their marriage. Calvin seemed to be cold and distant, but Eva soon began to see his warmth after marriage and developed feelings for him. One day, Eva suddenly realized that her ordinary driver husband looked exactly the same as the city's most powerful man...

Valerie marries mafia heir Jeno, only to discover his mistress and secret twins. Pregnant with his child and shattered, she fakes a plane crash and disappears. When Jeno finally realizes what he has lost, his desperate pursuit comes too late, leaving Valerie free to begin again.

Frost Lord gave her what she never expected: a love she didn't ask for. And the man she'd loved her whole life? He only realized it the moment she was gone. Yet it was already far too late.

After being dumped by her rich boyfriend, Lyla Martin accidentally enters into a flash marriage with Alex Puth, leading to a miraculous change in her life. However, as the story unfolds, Lyla and Lucy Miller find themselves in a shocking identity swap. Lyla, once from a modest background, is revealed to be the heir of a prosperous family. Meanwhile, Monroe Mintz's pursuit of a rich woman takes an unexpected turn when he discovers she is not the heiress he thought she was!

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.