

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.

Sylvia Hansen was raised in isolation on a mountain, training in martial arts and unaware of modern society's customs. When her master sends her down to marry, claiming it will boost her powers, she believes "sleeping together" simply means resting beside her husband. It's only after meeting the male lead and facing a series of hilarious misunderstandings that she discovers "sleeping together" can actually result in a baby!

On the surface, Layla Smith is a well-behaved overseas student, but she’s actually the feared leader of the Titus Sect, unmatched in martial arts. When her grandfather falls ill, she returns home with her bodyguard, Felix Nolan. After marrying Zack Moore, she’s humiliated by him and his friends. Layla smiles coldly—she hasn’t met anyone this foolish in a long time. And then… she strikes.

Frank Ford was transported to a post-apocalyptic wasteland as a cannon fodder. On the night before his doomed mission, he activated the ""Wife-doting System.""He chose three ""trash"": a crippled S-class captain, a deformed mutant, and a dying clone.Everyone mocked him, until he injected them with a mysterious serum. The crippled captain, Anna Hutt, awakened her psychic powers; the deformed mutant, Bess Bruce, transformed into a strong fighter; and A77, the clone, gained teleportation.With 3 S-class ladies fighting at full power, Frank crushed all challengers.But then came the conspiracy of Colonel Dylan Jones, a high-ranking official of the Fortress City, followed by missile strikes and city-wide purges...

I’m the best art forger and intel specialist in Chicago. And I fell for the man who owned it all, Don Vincenzo Russo. For ten years, I was his secret, his weapon, and his woman. I built his empire from the shadows. I thought I’d get a ring. After all, every night he was in this city, he was buried inside me, taking his pleasure. He’d whisper that I was his, that no one else felt this good. But this time, after he was finished with me, he announced he was marrying the Russian Bratva princess, Katerina Petrov. That’s when I knew. I wasn’t his woman. I was just a body. For an alliance, for her, he sacrificed me. He left me to die. So I destroyed every piece of the life he gave me. I made one call to my father in Italy. And then, I vanished. But when the Don who owned Chicago couldn't find his favorite toy… he went insane.

Trusting a scumbag, Shannon Clarke not only lost her baby but was also forced to donate her cornea to her husband's first love. The constant heartbreak woke her up. Shannon: "Let’s... get a divorce!"

After five years teaching in a remote village, Winona Truman returns to Rivertown to reunite with her brother, Nathan Truman—now the city's richest man.On her way to the hotel, Winona selflessly steps in to save Nathan's fiancée, Margaret Lee, from a speeding car. However, her act of kindness is met with betrayal as she suffers unimaginable humiliation, physical assault, and emotional torment. Margaret, unaware of Winona's true identity, cruelly tramples on her most cherished gifts and family letters. Just in time, Nathan arrives and witnesses the abuse his sister has endured. A storm of family, justice, and love is about to erupt.

Before turning 25, the pack elders use the mind-link 99 times to forcibly summon me. I have to bond with a mate before my 25th birthday or face an arranged marriage to serve the pack. When I tell Jacob Fulton, our patrol captain, he just scoffs. "I've never heard of any pack having a rule like that. Wendy, you don't need such a pathetic tactic to test me. I was going to mark you, but seeing how desperate you are, I've changed my mind." He tosses the protection necklace I hand-crafted for him to his childhood friend, Yelena Shaw, and walks off without a second glance. Yelena blushes as she offers the necklace back to me. A triumphant glint flashes in her eyes. I step back, refusing it with a soft voice. "You can keep my trash." Ignoring her sudden paleness, I turn and walk away. I don't want the necklace anymore, and I don't want Jacob, either. What Jacob doesn't know is that I'm the sole heir to the Darkmoon pack. Once I turn 25, I must return to fulfill my duty—to take my place as Alpha Female and bond with a mate. Only this time, Jacob won't be the one I choose.

My husband, Dante, is the most untouchable Don of the Vance family in New York. He has one unbreakable rule: After 9 p.m., if he's out on family business, he does not take calls. I understood his devotion to the family, so for five years, I did my best never to disturb him. Until last night, when I was driving alone past the docks and walked straight into an ambush by a rival family's armed men. In a panic, I called Dante, begging him to save me. The phone rang for what felt like forever. When he finally picked up, his voice was ice-cold: "Nora, we've been married a long time. As the Donna of the Vance family, you should know the rules." Then he hung up. That night, I barely escaped the hail of bullets by the skin of my teeth. I spent the night in the hospital. But when I came home the next morning, all I got was a reproachful look. He accused me of interrupting a critical family shipment deal—and of sending a fake distress signal. I knew how hard he worked, so I swallowed my hurt. But later, when I used his computer, I accidentally saw his call log. One contact had been calling him almost every single night—always after nine. For five full years. I knew that number. It belonged to Alexa, the Vance family's Capo. The woman everyone in the family had agreed, for all these years, was the one truly fit to stand beside Dante. In that moment, every ounce of suppressed hurt came flooding back. After I calmed myself, I picked up my phone and found an invitation I'd received a few days ago—to an international art exhibition. And I clicked "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from his world completely.

My husband, Dante, is the most untouchable Don of the Vance family in New York. He has one unbreakable rule: After 9 p.m., if he's out on family business, he does not take calls. I understood his devotion to the family, so for five years, I did my best never to disturb him. Until last night, when I was driving alone past the docks and walked straight into an ambush by a rival family's armed men. In a panic, I called Dante, begging him to save me. The phone rang for what felt like forever. When he finally picked up, his voice was ice-cold: "Nora, we've been married a long time. As the Donna of the Vance family, you should know the rules." Then he hung up. That night, I barely escaped the hail of bullets by the skin of my teeth. I spent the night in the hospital. But when I came home the next morning, all I got was a reproachful look. He accused me of interrupting a critical family shipment deal—and of sending a fake distress signal. I knew how hard he worked, so I swallowed my hurt. But later, when I used his computer, I accidentally saw his call log. One contact had been calling him almost every single night—always after nine. For five full years. I knew that number. It belonged to Alexa, the Vance family's Capo. The woman everyone in the family had agreed, for all these years, was the one truly fit to stand beside Dante. In that moment, every ounce of suppressed hurt came flooding back. After I calmed myself, I picked up my phone and found an invitation I'd received a few days ago—to an international art exhibition. And I clicked "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from his world completely.