

Sold out by someone in dark web, Nina Morgan bumps into mafia lord, Max Luther in the riches’ hunting game. Once an aristocracy, Nina is now dragged into inferno by Max, lost in sweetness and tortures. She finally makes up her mind to leave, but Max confines her no matter how many times she tries. It’s out of love, or of hatred? Overwhelmed by love and forbidden desire, the two hurt each other but simultaneously save each other.

Bestselling author Edith has harbored a secret crush on firefighter Nolan for a decade. The two entered into a marriage of convenience to resolve family debts. A café explosion left Edith heartbroken; during the crisis, Nolan saved Nancy—a manipulative woman—but ignored Edith, treating her merely as a wife in name only. After Nancy falsely claimed to be pregnant with Nolan’s child, Edith decided to file for divorce. Nolan pleaded with her to keep up the charade of a loving couple for the sake of his ailing father. Nancy seized the opportunity to stir up trouble, while a colleague of Nolan’s began pursuing Edith, provoking Nolan’s intense jealousy. Nancy staged a miscarriage to frame Edith, but surveillance footage ultimately exposed all her lies. Nolan discovered the love Edith had hidden for years through her novels and began clumsily trying to win her back. Finally, after risking his life to save Edith from a fire and severing ties with Nancy, Nolan devoted himself to healing Edith’s emotional wounds, transforming their pragmatic contract marriage into a genuine, deeply loving union.

Five years ago Melissa Gill and Lewis Sharp share one night together and she vanishes before dawn without a word. Five years later he engineers her return, traps her into signing a three year marriage contract, and makes absolutely clear he has no intention of letting her disappear again. By day he runs cold and sharp, pulling her close enough to make her heart stutter then pushing back just enough to keep her off balance. She carries secrets and guilt she hasn’t found a way to say out loud, and she lets him circle her without quite letting him in. Neither of them calls it love. Both of them know exactly what it is.

When Julian, the true heir by blood, was finally brought back to the Family, my cold-blooded adoptive parents cast me aside. They sent me to "The Abyss"—a clandestine hellhole where billionaires and mafia bosses paid to hunt, rape, and slaughter human prey.No matter how humiliatingly I begged for mercy, I remained locked in an iron cage, passed around as prey for those bloodthirsty beasts.Days later, a photo of me—covered in whip marks, kneeling like a dog with a chain around my neck—made its way to my beloved fiancée, Vivienne.Standing before the press, the untouchable Mafia Princess sneered, her voice dripping with disgust. "He’s pathetic and utterly filthy. The Valenti family would never align with such trash. I'll be marrying Julian instead."On cue, the Russo family officially disowned me, permanently stripping me of their name.After I was tortured to death, the wedding of the century commenced, broadcast live worldwide to celebrate the alliance between two major mafia families.But right then, my "wedding gift" was delivered.When the box was opened, the entire room went dead silent.

Two modern best friends Jill Shaw and Helen Stone transmigrate into the bodies of sisters sent as peace offerings from an enemy kingdom — officially brides, unofficially suspected spies. The cold-faced warrior Prince Joseph Smith gets the elder Jill, the cunning and manipulative Prince Ben Smith gets the younger Helen, and both brothers arrive at their weddings fully prepared to eliminate the threats disguised as their wives.What neither calculated: the “elite spy” Prince Joseph watches so obsessively turns out to be a pure academic who finds knowledge intoxicating and intrigue utterly baffling.Meanwhile the “naive romantic” Prince Ben thinks he can read and control is already several moves ahead of him, playing people like a board game. Two princes who came to outmaneuver their wives. Two women who didn’t come here to lose. The misunderstandings are spectacular. The reversals are better.

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.

Jackson Tiller and Emily Gateley break down the chaos of filming the viral show "Uncle Richard Is My Baby Daddy," sharing behind-the-scenes stories, on-set chemistry, and the wild ride of acting for vertical TV. Raw, funny, and unfiltered—this is where drama meets real talk.

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.

Driven to the edge, Rachel Yale makes a desperate gamble—using herself as bait to draw close to Louis Brown, Newfork's most untouchable power figure. He is ruthless, distant, a man said to have no heart. He sees her motives clearly—yet allows her closer. What begins as disdain and indulgent play turns into dangerous attraction. The god of power falls from his pedestal, becoming her shield, her storm, and her only refuge.