

Five years ago, a misunderstanding caused Cecilia and Lambert's divorce. Now back in the country, she works at a hospital and runs into her ex-husband, ending up in his bed. Since then, Lambert has been pushing hard to get back into her life. Divorced, but still sharing a bed.
![[ENG DUB] The One She Can't Quit](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
Five years ago, a misunderstanding caused Cecilia and Lambert's divorce. Now back in the country, she works at a hospital and runs into her ex-husband, ending up in his bed. Since then, Lambert has been pushing hard to get back into her life. Divorced, but still sharing a bed.

Harper Allen is born in Prosperity Village, where women possess a special constitution that produces multiple babies per pregnancy.Because they have too many children, the village is desperately poor. Harper is chosen by the villagers to work in the city and bring hope to everyone—and she just happens to run into the Lauren family patriarch offering a fortune for a grandchild.Perfect timing! With the old man’s arrangement, Harper marries Spencer Lauren, the aloof CEO cursed by his family bloodline of “Any woman who bears a Pierce heir will die.” But the prideful CEO refuses. What to do? No job is too difficult for a hardworking woman—she has plenty of strength and methods! That very night, she ties up the struggling Spencer and tosses him into the bridal chamber...

"Champion ""Phantom"" Jax did five years for manslaughter. Now she's a street punching bag, with only her girlfriend Mia still by her side. When her coach is held at gunpoint, Jax is forced back into the underground circuit—a betting puppet winning fights that only tighten the noose. Then Mia takes the bullet meant for her and falls into a coma. That coma was the last straw. Jax burns her bridges and steps into the ultimate cage. Tank Voss, the underground king, thinks he's hunting a broken fighter. He's wrong. He's hunting a phantom. And phantoms don't bleed."

Rose Frost, a corporate slave, transmigrated into a tyrant queen, activated a system, survived crises, and rose to rule the galaxy as empress.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

Fern Burke's husband, Edwin Smith is supporting both households, his own and that of his sister-in-law. He argues that Vera Green, his sister-in-law, would become the subject of gossip since her husband has died, so he brings her along to the military, leaving Fern behind in the countryside. Every month, he sends Fern three love letters, yet gives all his military allowance to Vera. During the famine, Vera and her two children stay comfortably in Edwin's city home, eating meat buns, while Fern and her children starve to death in silence. Fortunately, Fern has been given a second chance at life. This time, she won't suffer quietly…

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.