

The mysterious secret agent Peter Rogers was awarded the National Medal of Honor by the President and had retired from the military. While dining out with his daughter Leslie, Peter is mistaken for a blind date by the beautiful CEO Sydney Greenfield, and the two unexpectedly get married. When his classmate and ex-girlfriend, who were unaware of Peter's true identity, encountered him again, they subjected him to various insults and ridicule. Upon hearing about this, Sydney publicly revealed that Peter was her husband, putting everyone to shame.

Luna Ashford is a sharp modern forensic scientist who wakes up one day as the princess consort of the seventh prince of the Solmire Empire—wife to Jothan Barnett, a prince the entire court whispers about:brutal, cursed, a man who buries his wives. Her system gives her a clean exit: earn enough intimacy with Jothan and solve the wrongful case shadowing his past, and she goes home. Simple enough. Except the monster the rumors promised turns out to be something else entirely, and the case runs deeper and darker than any file she's ever worked. She came to investigate a prince. She didn't plan to understand him.

Gentle housewife Sarah meets her husband's new colleague Diego at a family dinner, only to be drugged and assaulted by him, filmed, and blackmailed. Forced to assist in stealing commercial secrets, she endures prolonged mental manipulation and abuse. Gradually awakening from silent fear, Sarah secretly cooperates with the police, lays a trap, and engages in a life-and-death struggle to bring down the entire criminal network. In the end, she walks out of the trauma and rediscovers herself.

When Beth Stone returns to the country, she unexpectedly spends the night with her nemesis, Colin Moore. Outwardly, they are consumed by hatred for each other, but deep down, in a place no one else can see, love quietly lingers.

I married Don Matteo in secret. Every time he fucked his childhood sweetheart, he promised me a real wedding,in front of the Five Families. For five years, Matteo promised me ninety-nine times. And ninety-nine times, he left me at the altar. The first time, Cecilia’s prize-winning show cat died. To comfort her, he postponed the wedding for three months. I stood at the altar alone, eyes red, trying to calm down the family elders. The second time, Cecilia threw a tantrum at a casino and shattered a hundred-million-dollar antique vase. He diverted the private jet meant for their wedding and rushed through the night to clean up her mess. And every time, right before our wedding, his childhood sweetheart would have some kind of emergency. I cried. I screamed. I even held a gun to his head. But Matteo would just pin me against the wall and shut me up with a cold, hard kiss. “She’s just a fuck. You are Mrs. Falcone. Have some goddamn class.” After the ninety-ninth time, I was finally done. I slid the papers across the table. The ink was still wet, the Falcone family seal stamped at the bottom. “Our marriage, our alliance—it’s over.”