

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?

To defuse the bomb strapped to the hostage, I had no choice—I cut off all her clothes. My clueless new wife, Dana Poole, blasted it online. She cried as she faced me. "Why not at least leave her underwear on? You were saving her, I get it—but did you have to take everything? Doesn't a girl's dignity matter? With cameras everywhere, how is she supposed to live after this? You couldn't even cover her up?" The backlash exploded. The unit benched me to calm things down. So I stopped caring. I followed procedure, no improvising, no extra effort. Then one day, at the busiest mall in the city, Dana's mom got strapped into a brand-new linked bomb. This time, the whole unit panicked.
![[ENG DUB] Something Stirs After Closing Time](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
A night security job at a museum seems like the easiest money Jorden Leon has ever made. But on his very first shift, he discovers that the museum's relics are anything but ordinary. Driven by instinct, he restores a shattered Eight-Armed Asura bronze statue. As the final crack disappears, an ancient force surges into him, awakening powers beyond imagination. Unaware that he has just prevented an S-Class catastrophe capable of destroying the city, Jordan steps into a new destiny. Soon, whispers spread through the city of a mysterious guardian who protects the living from dangers buried deep in the past.

I have been bound to Ryan Hardin for nine years. He is pureblood, the Alpha of Silverfang Pack. And I… I was chosen as nothing more than a “temporary Luna,” a political pawn to steady the pack’s power. In those nine years, he betrayed me countless times. The first time, on my birthday, he announced that the celebration belonged to another she-wolf he had just met. The second time, I brewed medicine for his injuries, only to be accused by the Elders of bewitching the Alpha. He didn’t defend me—instead, he ordered me to be whipped in front of the entire pack. The third time, I was three months pregnant. He stood there, watching as his childhood sweetheart pushed me down the stone steps. I lost our pup that day. Nine years. Three thousand two hundred nights. I endured his indifference, his humiliation, his contempt. Last night, at the Silverfang Pack’s full-moon feast, he openly entwined his hand with a young Omega’s while I sat abandoned at the far end of the Alpha’s table. Every gaze cut into me—wolves whispering, mocking, savoring the spectacle. It was his 200th betrayal. When the feast ended, Ryan didn’t even look at me. His words were sharper than fangs: “Don’t forget, your Luna title is only temporary.” At dawn, he descended the Alpha’s staircase, his voice cold and commanding as if I were a servant: “Prepare the council’s tea. Now.” I met his gaze without flinching, my voice steady, stripped of all submission. “I’m sorry, Alpha. That is no longer my duty.” He seems to forget—we were never bound by a mark. Ours was an agreement, nothing more. And today marks the third-to-last day before that agreement ends. I gathered the Luna emblem, the wedding ring, and our only wedding photo—and burned them all. In three days, I’ll leave this pack. I will return to the secluded Herbal Academy, reclaim my research. And this time, when I walk away, I will never return.

I have been bound to Ryan Hardin for nine years. He is pureblood, the Alpha of Silverfang Pack. And I… I was chosen as nothing more than a “temporary Luna,” a political pawn to steady the pack’s power. In those nine years, he betrayed me countless times. The first time, on my birthday, he announced that the celebration belonged to another she-wolf he had just met. The second time, I brewed medicine for his injuries, only to be accused by the Elders of bewitching the Alpha. He didn’t defend me—instead, he ordered me to be whipped in front of the entire pack. The third time, I was three months pregnant. He stood there, watching as his childhood sweetheart pushed me down the stone steps. I lost our pup that day. Nine years. Three thousand two hundred nights. I endured his indifference, his humiliation, his contempt. Last night, at the Silverfang Pack’s full-moon feast, he openly entwined his hand with a young Omega’s while I sat abandoned at the far end of the Alpha’s table. Every gaze cut into me—wolves whispering, mocking, savoring the spectacle. It was his 200th betrayal. When the feast ended, Ryan didn’t even look at me. His words were sharper than fangs: “Don’t forget, your Luna title is only temporary.” At dawn, he descended the Alpha’s staircase, his voice cold and commanding as if I were a servant: “Prepare the council’s tea. Now.” I met his gaze without flinching, my voice steady, stripped of all submission. “I’m sorry, Alpha. That is no longer my duty.” He seems to forget—we were never bound by a mark. Ours was an agreement, nothing more. And today marks the third-to-last day before that agreement ends. I gathered the Luna emblem, the wedding ring, and our only wedding photo—and burned them all. In three days, I’ll leave this pack. I will return to the secluded Herbal Academy, reclaim my research. And this time, when I walk away, I will never return.
![[ENG DUB] From Misunderstanding to Maximum Obsession](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
Forced into marriage, top student Nancy Wren escapes and meets billionaire Jason Black by fate. She later discovers she is pregnant. Seeking responsibility, she is instead misjudged due to a false infertility report and given a cheque, which her family takes away. Pregnant and alone, she struggles to survive until she saves an elder of the Black family, drawing her back into his world.Misunderstandings follow—yet in the end, truth wins, love returns, and she finally builds a free, happy life with him and their children.

After I was caught in a dockside explosion, I was bound to a Survival Program. It gave me twenty-five years and four designated targets. If even one target’s Love Score or bond score reached 100%, I could wake up in my real world. But I failed all four. Because every target I tried to reach eventually turned toward Sophia Lane, the heroine of this world. They called my pain a performance. They called my tears manipulation. They said I was only pretending to break down so they would choose me over Sophia. But if they never loved me, why did they lose control when my mission failed and I chose to leave this world for good?

Seraphina, a six-winged Seraph, was framed by her adoptive sister Aurelia and brutally slaughtered by demons in the Abyss. Seven days after her death, her spirit watched as her parents busied themselves with their adopted daughter, utterly indifferent to her disappearance. By the time they finally discovered that the mangled remains belonged to their own biological daughter, Seraphina had already vanished, consumed by despair. Her hatred coalesced into her return as Astrea, the eight-winged Angel of Judgment; she turned the tables on her tormentors, exacting a retribution a hundredfold for the abuse she had suffered. With her vengeance fulfilled, she transformed into a star, and the power of her eight wings chose the orphan Lilith to carry on the legacy of hope.

After her mother remarries, Leah moves into her stepfather’s mansion. Heavy rain causes her bedroom to leak, forcing her to share a tiny single bed with her cold, rebellious stepsister Isla. Trapped in a cramped room on a stormy night with their parents just outside the door, Leah’s repressed desires ignite after accidentally catching sight of Isla’s private moment days before. As they lie pressed tightly together, hidden touches and breathless whispers stir forbidden longing between the two unrelated stepsisters.

Josefina, once a beauty queen, married into the prestigious Quincy family in glory—but soon discovered her husband, Clinton, had a secret room plastered with women's photos, with her just another target. To her shock, Clinton was also involved with her sister-in-law,Queena.Determined to protect herself,Josefina secretly conceived via IVF and began plotting her revenge. Navigating the Quincy family's power struggles, she allied with Clinton's brother, Shane, to outmaneuver her adversaries. In the end, when Queena drove off with Clinton, both meeting a tragic fate, the high-society feud finally concluded. Josefina's trials over, she emerged stronger, and her destiny took a surprising new turn.