

Cleaner Betty’s night shift takes a fateful turn: she rescues a drugged stranger—unaware he’s elite tycoon Eli—and they share an impulsive night. The next morning, she slips away to help her best friend Ivy out of a crisis, , leaving Eli desperate to find her. Seizing the chance, Ivy poses as Eli’s mystery woman, lying outright that her ex-husband’s child is his—and steals Betty’s place entirely. Betty discovers she’s pregnant soon after starting medical school, raising the baby alone. Six years later, she becomes Eli’s household private physician. From their first meeting, Eli can’t shake the mother-daughter pair’s uncanny familiarity—a connection that makes him question everything…

Julia Miller dies betrayed by her boyfriend, her best friend, and the woman who stole her identity all had a hand in it. In her final moments she learns the truth, that she was switched at birth, her entire life taken before it even started. She comes back furious and binds to the Stealing System, which does exactly what it sounds like. First order of business—every coin in Vivian Lawson’s accounts, gone. Then the system unlocks deeper abilities—steal luck, steal skills, steal the room. From auction houses to hotel lobbies, Julia dismantles her enemies one stolen advantage at a time. The finale lands where it all began. The fake heiress’ mother was the wealthy family’s housekeeper all along, the one who switched two infant girls and walked away. Julia takes back her name, her inheritance, and her life. The people who took from her get exactly what they gave.

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.