

Dailin grew up in an orphanage. On her 25th birthday, she got a call from the richest man in the world and learned she was the Crawford family’s long-lost biological daughter—who had been missing for twenty years. Overjoyed, she wanted to share the shocking news with her boyfriend of seven years, Logan, who was in financial trouble. But outside his door, she caught Logan cheating with her best friend, Mia. As she listened through the door, she heard the cruel truth: Logan had only been using her and had come to look down on her. Her heart shattered, and she chose without hesitation to go back to her father—the richest man in the world. A week later, at the Crawford family’s formal welcome gala, Logan and Mia schemed their way into the outer reception. Not only did Logan mock and humiliate Dailin, who was dressed to the nines, but he also publicly accused her of stealing it when a priceless necklace went missing. Desperate to impress the world’s richest man, Logan grabbed Dailin’s purse and searched it—unaware that he was about to face the full fury of the Crawford family and a downfall he would never recover from.

Expelled from the elite Turner family, Lucy Turner stages a cheating scandal to save her boyfriend from debt, only to discover years later that he's now a billionaire, her boss, and engaged to her half-sister. Amidst lingering love and misunderstandings, their fates remain entangled.

The "supreme" who controls half of the world's economic lifelines was willing to stay anonymous and be a kept man for three years, only to be ruthlessly dumped by his gold-digging wife on their wedding anniversary. When the useless ex-husband puts the crown of a trillion-dollar empire back on his head, a global power struggle and deadly revenge begin.

Though Lisa's unfaithful husband conspired with his mistress to murder her, she managed to survive the attack. All the while, unbeknownst to them, Lisa is actually the sole daughter of the world's richest man. Quietly, Lisa hatches a plan to make them pay.

After being rejected and disgraced by his ex-wife, Lee Hyun-woo, the hidden heir of the Lee family, finds new love with Kang Yoo-jin. As they face his chaebol family’s trials and bring down their enemies, Hyun-woo reclaims his power, wealth, and the love he was meant to have.

Felicia was betrayed by her longtime boyfriend and, in her sorrow, she drunkenly entered the room of CEO Ryan. She woke up the next day, regretting the night and mistaking Ryan for a college student. Ryan, however, proposed marriage. After a quick wedding, Felicia took on family responsibilities, urging Ryan to study diligently. Ryan found this amusing until the day Felicia realized her husband was the CEO.

Six years ago, heiress Milo left penniless Asher to save her failing family, keeping her pregnancy a secret. Now a ruthless tech billionaire still bitter about the past, Asher reunites with Milo at a gala — she's now a desperate single mom, scrambling to pay for their son Leo's life-saving heart surgery. As the truth of her sacrifice unfolds, a guilt-stricken Asher sets out to win her back, secures top care for their son, brings the real culprit to justice, and earns his second chance at love...

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.