

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."

Annie never knew her mother's love. Carole despised her, reserving all her doting affection for Fiona, the daughter of a past romance. Carole believed her marriage to Ben was a drunken mistake, and Annie was simply the regrettable result. Unable to bear the abuse Annie suffered, Ben resolved to take Annie and leave Carole for good. Despite this, on her own birthday, Annie chose to give her mother one final chance.

Nicole's daughter clung to life as husband Zack chose Yolanda's child over hers. After learning of Zack's deceptions, Nicole sought justice, leading to a public fallout with Yolanda. Amidst grief and Zack's infidelities, Nicole fought for her daughter's legacy. Zack's realization of his mistakes came too late, ending in his tragic demise. Nicole found new purpose in charity and love with Harrison.

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.

I had been in a secret relationship with my mafia boyfriend, Dante Castellano, for seven years. No public contact. No photos together. No proof I had ever stood by his side. He told me, "Once I'm powerful enough that no one dares touch you, I'll make it official." I believed him. The day before our seventh anniversary, I found a ten-carat diamond ring in his suit jacket. I cried with joy, thinking seven years of hiding were finally over. The next morning, I wore my most expensive dress and sprayed on the only perfume he had ever given me. I practiced my smile in the mirror, the one I would give when he proposed. Then, my phone lit up with a breaking news alert. [Breaking News: Seven-Year Love Story Reaches Perfect Ending—Romance Blogger Alessia Romano Accepts Boyfriend's 100th Proposal!] In the photo, the influencer with eight million followers stood on her tiptoes, kissing a man. His hand rested on the back of her neck. On that hand was a scar I would never mistake. It was the scar Dante got when he took a knife for me.

Ten years after his family was massacred, Fred Lopez returns as "Eagle," an elite mercenary seeking revenge. Disguised as a bodyguard on a trip to a mysterious island, he boards the plane—only to find everyone who betrayed and humiliated him on board. Their vacation is about to become his reckoning.

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.

"For ten years, I was Vincenzo Moretti’s blood-bound wife — his Pure Source, his shield, his silent sacrifice. Until the night he left me and our newborn son to die on a cold street so he could stay with his mistress. He took everything from me. My child. My mother. My last drop of hope. Now that I’ve finally walked away, the almighty vampire prince has gone mad trying to win me back. He burns his empire, discards his lover, and begs on his knees for the woman he once called “replaceable.” But I’m not the same Isabella anymore. Some monsters realize their mistake only after they’ve already lost everything. And I will never let him drag me back into the dark."
![[ENG DUB] The Last Proof That Slayed Them All](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
Aurora, once a math prodigy with solutions valuable to military research, was revealed to be the lost daughter of the wealthy Winslow family. But after being brought home, she was looked down upon for her rural background and overshadowed by the adopted daughter, Luna. Luna framed her repeatedly, and during a major exam, copied Aurora's answers. Yet Aurora was the one punished.In her next life, Aurora returns with a vow for revenge. When Luna tries to provoke her again at the exam hall, surrounded by their biased family, Aurora publicly cuts all ties with them, determined to uncover the truth and reclaim her place.

“Darcy is feeling dizzy tonight. Let's suppress our bond, Emma. We can have our marking ceremony some other day.” Those were the exact words he spat when I called him on the day that was supposed to be our marking ceremony. It was the seventh time he asked me to suppress the sacred bond between us for his childhood sweetheart. The first time he suppressed it was because Darcy’s pack was under attack and he wanted to be by her side. “Darcy is fighting for her survival and you want me to be pulled by our fated bond? Don't make me believe you are this selfish., Emma.” The third time he suppressed it he said, “Darcy is having a fever. I can't leave her alone.” By the sixth time, he didn't bother explaining why he had the witch suppress our bond in the most brutal way possible because he was in a hurry to go meet Darcy. Since we were fated mates, every time he wanted to be intimate with her, he would have a witch suppress the bond between us. As an Alpha, this suppression barely affects him but as an Omega, it would leave me in a terrible pain that I could not get up from my bed for weeks. Though devastated seeing me in such pain, he would offer me only a few lines of apologies and a bundle of promises to make it up to me in future. That's it. So, when the seventh time, he refused to mark me and came home to suppress our bond to be with Darcy, I had already packed my clothes. It will be the last time he suppresses our bond because the next time, there will be no bond between us to suppress.