

On my birthday, one of my husband’s subordinates leaned close to him and whispered in Russian, “Sasha has a surprise prepared for you tonight.” My husband smiled at me as he finished cutting my cake. Then, in the same language, he replied, “She has quite a few tricks in bed. I’ll see her later. “Just don’t let Madam find out, or I’m afraid I’ll get thrown out.” Everyone around laughed and assured keep it quiet. None of them knew that I’d been fluent in multiple languages since I was a child. What they also didn’t know was that I’d found the hidden phone he kept in the false drawer, where all the filthy videos of him and Sasha were saved. I didn’t confront him. Instead, I contacted a few remaining connections in the Vegas and had them prepare a new identity for me. In three days, Claire Vega would no longer exist, and he would never have me again.

Housewife Lila endured betrayal, miscarriage, and attempted murder all in one night. After miraculously surviving, she transformed into Mira Harper, the daughter of a billionaire. With her five brothers backing her, she embarks on her path to revenge.

The doctor said I only had three days left to live. Acute liver failure. My only hope was an experimental clinical trial. It was extremely risky, but had the faintest sliver of a chance to survive. But my husband, David, gave the last available spot... to my adopted sister, Emma, also my daughter’s godmother. Her condition was still in its early stages. He said it was the "right decision," because she “deserved to live more.” I signed the papers to forgo treatment and took the high-dose painkillers prescribed by the doctor. The cost? My organs would shut down, and I would die. When I handed over the jewelry company I’d poured my heart into, along with all my designs, to Emma, my parents praised me, saying, “Now that’s what a good big sister should do.” When I agreed to divorce David so he could marry Emma, he said, “You’ve finally learned to be understanding.” When I told my daughter to call Emma ‘Mom,’ she clapped her hands and said, “Emma is such a gentle and kind mother!” When I gave all my assets to Emma, everyone in the family thought it was only natural. No one noticed anything was wrong with me. I’m just curious. Will they still be able to smile when they find out I'm dead?

In my previous life, I gave everything for Kane — only to be locked in a dungeon by him, forced to watch our child be crushed to death, and die filled with endless hatred. Reborn on the day of my adulthood ceremony, with the entire Silver Moon Blood Clan watching, the Blood Prince gives me the right to choose one of his two sons to form an Eternal Blood Pact. Everyone expects me to choose Kane. Instead, I point to the man feared by all — the mad prince who returned from the Dark Ancient Forest. **"I choose Cass Nightshade."** The moment Kane’s face turns deathly pale, I know — this life, it’s finally my turn to take revenge. The bloodthirsty monster everyone calls a madman slowly reveals his obsessive tenderness only to me. "You chose me, Eve… Now you can never escape." Under the Blood Moon, the Eternal Blood Pact is sealed. This time, I marry the monster — just to crush my scumbag ex completely.

The witch told us my older sister would die at sixteen, and her prophecies had never been wrong. From that moment on, my sister became the most important one in the family. The best venison was saved for her. The rare white fox fur was given to her. Every night, our parents told her bedtime stories. I knew she was pitiful, but I still felt hurt and resentful. Then, on the day she turned sixteen, a sharp pain spread through my chest. Afraid I would cause trouble, my parents locked me in the basement. “Mom, please…” I cried, pounding on the door. “I can feel my wolf spirit getting weaker. Let me out…” However, Mom said without hesitation, “No! Today is an important day for your sister. “She only has one day left. Just bear with it…” When I finally closed my eyes and my soul drifted out of my body, I saw the living room filled with warm candlelight. My parents were holding my sister who was alive and well as they cried. Only then did I realize that the witch’s prophecy had never been wrong. The one meant to die was never my sister.

The night I died, my whole family was busy celebrating my twin sister Elena's eighteenth birthday. Everyone thought Elena was going to die the next day. We're elves. My father worked as a clan guardian, and after Mom gave birth to Elena and me as twins, she stopped working altogether. We should have been a happy family. But from the moment we were born, Elena and I were bound by a witch's curse. Because Elena came into the world one minute before me, she took the full weight of it onto herself. She was never supposed to live past eighteen. From the day we were born, Elena was the family's treasure. Mom and Dad treated me like I owed her something. New toys went to her first. New dresses were always her pick. Every night, Mom would sit in Elena's room for at least an hour before she'd turn off the light. I always fell asleep alone. One night I had a nightmare and ran barefoot to find Mom. She was holding Elena and didn't even look up. "Go back to bed. Stop making a fuss." I kept telling myself: she's dying, of course they're kind to her. But every time I let something go, that splinter in my chest pushed a little deeper. Then the day the curse was supposed to take effect finally came, and naturally, that was the day my stomach cramped so badly I could barely stand. Mom and Dad didn't hesitate. They shoved me into the cellar and locked it from outside. I crouched on the stone floor with the smell of mildew everywhere and knocked on the door over and over. "Mom... Dad... my stomach really hurts, I can't even stand up... let me out, please..." One sentence came back through the door. "Your sister is dying tonight! Can you just give us one day? One day!" "But... Mom... I'm scared..." Nobody answered after that. The cellar went quiet. My eyelids grew heavy. My last thought was: if I were the one dying of a curse, would they come hold me too.

The night I died, my whole family was busy celebrating my twin sister Elena's eighteenth birthday. Everyone thought Elena was going to die the next day. We're elves. My father worked as a clan guardian, and after Mom gave birth to Elena and me as twins, she stopped working altogether. We should have been a happy family. But from the moment we were born, Elena and I were bound by a witch's curse. Because Elena came into the world one minute before me, she took the full weight of it onto herself. She was never supposed to live past eighteen. From the day we were born, Elena was the family's treasure. Mom and Dad treated me like I owed her something. New toys went to her first. New dresses were always her pick. Every night, Mom would sit in Elena's room for at least an hour before she'd turn off the light. I always fell asleep alone. One night I had a nightmare and ran barefoot to find Mom. She was holding Elena and didn't even look up. "Go back to bed. Stop making a fuss." I kept telling myself: she's dying, of course they're kind to her. But every time I let something go, that splinter in my chest pushed a little deeper. Then the day the curse was supposed to take effect finally came, and naturally, that was the day my stomach cramped so badly I could barely stand. Mom and Dad didn't hesitate. They shoved me into the cellar and locked it from outside. I crouched on the stone floor with the smell of mildew everywhere and knocked on the door over and over. "Mom... Dad... my stomach really hurts, I can't even stand up... let me out, please..." One sentence came back through the door. "Your sister is dying tonight! Can you just give us one day? One day!" "But... Mom... I'm scared..." Nobody answered after that. The cellar went quiet. My eyelids grew heavy. My last thought was: if I were the one dying of a curse, would they come hold me too.

When Elijah cheated, I didn’t cry or make a scene. I pretended not to know. When he kept Naomi on the side, I forced down the pain and endured it. After all, I had a lovely son with Elijah. He loved me, and I wanted to give him a complete family. It wasn’t until the day I found out that my son, Kai, had gone with Elijah to that other home and was calling Aunt Naomi with affection that I stopped wanting to endure it any longer. I told my childhood friend that I wanted a divorce. He looked at me deeply, saying, “Hazel, everyone in Neopolis knows that Elijah loves you with his life. His influence covers the entire city. Leaving him won’t be easy.” However, I replied numbly, “Then let Hazel die. Let her die in front of Elijah. Let him watch his wife disappear with his own eyes. From that moment on, there will be no more Hazel Foster in this world.” When I learned that Kai preferred Naomi, I realized that the past two years of endurance had been nothing but a joke. This time, I don’t want either my husband or my son anymore.

A ruthless mafia godmother plans to retire at her daughter’s wedding, until the bride is kidnapped and drugged on her wedding night. She storms back into the underworld, vowing revenge, only to uncover a deeper conspiracy and be murdered by a traitor. But is Mama really dead?

“I need your help to fake a private jet crash,” I said quietly. “It’s the only way I can ever leave Luca Moretti.” People said he’d given up the Mafia throne for me. They called him the man who traded power for love— the heir who walked away from blood and gold just to marry a waitress from the slums. For years, he made the world believe in us. He built empires under my name. He sent me roses every Monday. He told the press I was his salvation. But love doesn’t always mean loyalty. While I was busy believing in forever, he was building a second home behind my back— one filled with laughter, toys, and twin sons who had his eyes. The night I disappeared, his empire burned. He tore apart cities, bribed governments, and buried men alive just to find me. But by the time he did— I was already gone. And the woman he’d once died for no longer loved him enough to stay alive.