

The night before high school graduation, Ethan Luciano pulled me into his bedroom. His hands were rough, his touch demanding, yet my heart overflowed with a decade's worth of unspoken longing. I'd loved Ethan for ten years, and finally, it seemed my silent wishes had come true. Afterwards, as we lay tangled in his sheets, he whispered that he'd marry me after graduation. Once he took over the Luciano family's empire from his father, he'd make me the most cherished woman in the family. I believed him. The next morning, I sat curled up against his bare chest as he casually told my foster brother, Lucas, about us. My cheeks were flushed, and my heart raced, still clinging to the sweetness of the night before. However, then their conversation shifted into Italian. Lucas smirked, leaning back against the doorframe. "Not bad, Young Boss. Your first time, and the school's 'it girl' just threw herself at you. So, how's my little sister taste?" Ethan gave a lazy chuckle. "Looks like an angel, but a freak in the sheets. Who would’ve thought?" The room erupted in low, conspiratorial laughter. Lucas raised a brow. "So, should I call her my little sister or my future sister-in-law?" Ethan’s tone darkened, his arm tightening around my waist for a moment. Then he let out a sigh. "She’s nothing. Just practice," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I’m trying to hook up with the cheer captain, Sylvia Dawson, but I don’t want her thinking I’m clueless in bed. Cynthia Saville’s just a warm-up." He paused. "But don’t tell Sylvia. I don’t need her getting all emotional." They didn't know that I’d spent months secretly learning Italian, preparing for the life I thought I’d share with Ethan. I didn't say a word. Later that day, I quietly withdrew my early decision application to Caltech and applied to MIT instead.

On her birthday, she ends up sleeping with a man, thinking of him as a surprise gift. Little does she know, she is unknowingly entangling herself with a big shot...

After hearing her daughter Ann's inner voice, Liz Sawyer learned that in her past life, her husband had been accusing her of having postpartum depression and took everything from her family, even their house. Now she rushed back home and used Ann's help to reclaim the housing deed. When she found out her husband tried to throw Ann away, she arrived with her parents to rescue her. Based on Ann's inner voice, she divorced her husband, met her true love, and therefore changed the tragic ending of her previous life.

The Bellaros border is in crisis, and Eloise Quimby volunteers for a political marriage. She has grown up with the crown prince, inseparable from him for ten years, yet now she leaves him behind. When he seeks to marry Camila Lowe instead of her, Eloise’s heart has already turned cold. The emperor names her Protector of the Realm, to wed in seven days—while the crown prince remains unaware…

I was born broken. My Alpha mother was the one who branded me. She said emotion was a sin. A weakness. Especially for a werewolf. Especially for an Alpha’s heir. The day we were born, she clamped emotion-suppressing collars around our necks. Mine and my twin sister's. The slightest flicker of emotion, and the collar flashed red. My mother would then push the button, injecting me with a diluted "silver solution" to suppress my feelings. But my sister Cassia's collar? Always a calm, steady blue. Even when she shattered Mom's precious moonstone, it just pulsed gently. And me? I’d just whisper, "Mom, the thunder scares me," and my collar would erupt in a violent red. Then came the sting of silver poison burning through my blood.. I used to argue. But Mom always said the same thing. "The data doesn't lie. Pain is a teacher. This is for your own good." After thousands of these injections, I started to believe it, too. That I was born out of control. The night of the alliance's Moon Goddess Festival, Mom was taking my sister to the rooftop party. Something scared me during the day. The collar flashed red, and my mother started the punishment. But this time, the collar malfunctioned. It shot a dose a thousand times stronger into my neck. I collapsed on the carpet, begging, "Mother, the collar... it hurts so much... help me." My collar was flashing a frantic red. My mother just looked down at me, drenched in a cold sweat, and pressed the button for the maximum dose. "You'd lose control like this just for attention? You're a lost cause." She turned, took my sister, and slammed the door. I couldn't help but think, Mom must be right. The collar is red. It doesn't really hurt. I'm just being dramatic, looking for pity again. I'm sorry, Mom. In my next life, I'll be the perfect daughter you always wanted.

Emergency physician Charli Spencer dies suddenly from overwork and wakes up in the body of her namesake in the Republican era.There, she shares a night of unexpected passion with Stephen Dawson, the formidable Warlord of the capital. But fate soon pulls them apart. While Stephen becomes obsessed with finding her again, Charli discovers she is pregnant and chooses to raise their son,Kevin alone.Five years later, Stephen finally uncovers the truth about Kevin. Determined not to lose them again, he proposes to Charli and begs her to enter the Marshal's Mansion as his wife...

Harry Shields, as a big fan of The Paradise of Divine Retribution, gets pulled into the novel, only to find the plot is off track! From the very start, he's thrown into the deadly "Execution Square". To survive, he relies on his memory of having read the original novel 100 times, pushing himself to the limit. Along the way, he meets the mysterious and aloof Linda Miller. They begin an exhilarating and thrilling adventure...

For six years of marriage, Winona Smith was kept in the dark—until she discovered her husband,Yale Gunson, was sheltering his lover abroad. Her heart shattered the moment he failed to show up while their daughter lay critically ill. Devastated but resolute, she ended the marriage. Picking up her career where she left off, Winona transformed from a homemaker into a luminary in scientific research—her papers graced top international journals, her breakthroughs earned global accolades. Just as she prepared to embrace a new life filled with happiness, the once-indifferent Yale completely broke down. Desperate and unhinged, he fell to his knees, begging her to come back.

Claire Graves transmigrates into the cultivation world and finally has a family, except her birth mother wounds her deeply and conspires with her vicious elder sister to steal her phoenix bone. Her young daughter Jessi raises her tiny hammer with one declaration: anyone who makes her mother cry is getting cooked. Mother and daughter handle their enemies with remarkable efficiency.What Claire never anticipates is her amnesiac servant. She contracts him carelessly, barely paying attention. He turns out to be Lucas Blackwell, one of the most feared immortal sovereigns in existence, bound to a cultivation path that forbids attachment of any kind. He recovers his memory and promptly becomes hopelessly devoted to Claire, pestering her daily for a formal commitment. The entire cultivation world watches their most terrifying sovereign dissolve into a lovesick fool in real time. Nobody is taking it well.

I was born broken. My Alpha mother was the one who branded me. She said emotion was a sin. A weakness. Especially for a werewolf. Especially for an Alpha’s heir. The day we were born, she clamped emotion-suppressing collars around our necks. Mine and my twin sister's. The slightest flicker of emotion, and the collar flashed red. My mother would then push the button, injecting me with a diluted "silver solution" to suppress my feelings. But my sister Cassia's collar? Always a calm, steady blue. Even when she shattered Mom's precious moonstone, it just pulsed gently. And me? I’d just whisper, "Mom, the thunder scares me," and my collar would erupt in a violent red. Then came the sting of silver poison burning through my blood.. I used to argue. But Mom always said the same thing. "The data doesn't lie. Pain is a teacher. This is for your own good." After thousands of these injections, I started to believe it, too. That I was born out of control. The night of the alliance's Moon Goddess Festival, Mom was taking my sister to the rooftop party. Something scared me during the day. The collar flashed red, and my mother started the punishment. But this time, the collar malfunctioned. It shot a dose a thousand times stronger into my neck. I collapsed on the carpet, begging, "Mother, the collar... it hurts so much... help me." My collar was flashing a frantic red. My mother just looked down at me, drenched in a cold sweat, and pressed the button for the maximum dose. "You'd lose control like this just for attention? You're a lost cause." She turned, took my sister, and slammed the door. I couldn't help but think, Mom must be right. The collar is red. It doesn't really hurt. I'm just being dramatic, looking for pity again. I'm sorry, Mom. In my next life, I'll be the perfect daughter you always wanted.