

Female CEO Claire Stein goes undercover as a beggar with a quiet promise: give her money and she'll return ten million, enough to change anyone's life. She sits for three days. No one stops. Then Jason Parker gives her a hundred dollars without hesitation. She pushes back and asks for another hundred, just to see. He gives that too,without irritation, without expectation. Claire decides immediately: a man this decent doesn't get away. She asks what he needs. He says he needs a girlfriend to bring home for the New Year to get his mother off his back. She considers this for approximately one second.Done. As of today, she is his girlfriend, and somehow, neither of them seems to be pretending.

This is a modern, pure love short drama disguised as a 'rich family contract' story, featuring 'crazy, overbearing CEO forced love' and 'straight guy getting bent/self-realization,' ultimately landing on 'mutual salvation.' To inherit a hundred-billion-dollar trust, homophobic swim team captain Ever is forced to 'live closely together' in a monitored mansion with his gloomy, crazy stepbrother, tycoon Kader. Facing Ever's physical rejection, Kader relentlessly closes in, showing his pathological possessiveness. As family infighting and millions in dark web bounties come one after another, Kader transforms into a fierce protector for him. Amid extreme pushing and protecting, Ever's anti-gay defenses completely crumble. From 'feeling disgusted' to actively asking for kisses, the straight guy's self-seduction turns real. What starts as a dangerous contract game ends up as a mutual redemption soaked in ultimate sweet indulgence!

Riley Miller heads to the bank to withdraw some cash, only to have the ATM swallow her card—thanks to an unhelpful customer service clerk. Her frustration deepens when she discovers that $10,000 has mysteriously vanished from her account. Just when she feels helpless, the malfunctioning ATM suddenly goes haywire… and starts spewing out money like there's no tomorrow.

My daughter, Ruby Pratt, has leukemia. She needs a bone marrow transplant—and fast. Out of everyone in the family, my husband, Dan Pratt, was the only match. I begged him for an entire month before he finally agreed to go through with the donation. But on the morning of the surgery, he went completely off the grid. I stood outside the hospital all day, waiting. No calls. No texts. Not even a shadow. That night, his childhood friend, Valerie Kinder, posted on Instagram. In the photo, Dan was holding Valerie's hand with one arm and carrying her young son with the other—on a beach in Lulabo City. The caption read: [Soaking up the sun! Dan cleared his whole schedule to join us on a month-long trek and we finally made it to the coast! My little boy said Uncle Dan made his ocean dream come true. Pure joy!] My heart splintered. While I was drowning in worry over my daughter, he was off playing happy family with them. I wiped my tears and typed a comment beneath her post: [Not 'Uncle.' From now on, he's your son's father.] That night, I finally got a call from him. "Babe, don't be like this," Dan said. "You're not being fair. "Valerie's son has been bullied at school for not having a dad. I couldn't stand seeing him hurt, so I took them on this trip. It was supposed to help him heal. "I'll catch the first flight back tomorrow and head straight to the hospital to donate the marrow. I promise." I hung up with a bitter smile. The next morning, Dan rushed into the hospital room. But all he found on the bed was a death certificate.