

Born with an incomplete soul and mentally impaired, Millie Harper was tricked by her parents into taking the blame for her sister's crime and was imprisoned for five years. In prison, she mastered deadly combat skills under the guidance of a ruthless mentor. On the day of her release,just as her ashamed parents try to commit her to an asylum, Isaac Bowen, heir to the nation's most powerful family, appears and marries her on the spot.

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.
![[ENG DUB] Five Years to Return](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
Born with an incomplete soul and mentally impaired, Millie Harper was tricked by her parents into taking the blame for her sister's crime and was imprisoned for five years. In prison, she mastered deadly combat skills under the guidance of a ruthless mentor. On the day of her release,just as her ashamed parents try to commit her to an asylum, Isaac Bowen, heir to the nation's most powerful family, appears and marries her on the spot.

On their third anniversary, Finley had all their friends over to celebrate. Claire walked in to find him on one knee, proposing to his childhood friend, Renee. "What is going on?" she asked. He shrugged like it was nothing. "It's just a game of truth or dare." But it wasn't until he shoved her down the stairs, causing her to miscarry, that she finally woke up. She'd given him five chances. Now? She was done. "Finley, it's over. Let's get divorced."

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.