

Reborn as a fake heiress, her only goals are eating, sleeping, and enjoying life as the beloved darling of everyone around her.

Natalia Smith, a powerful businesswoman, had a very spoiled Molly Smith who kept causing trouble. One day, however, she learned Molly wasn't her real sister! Turned out someone switched Molly and Yolanda, Natalia's real sister, after they were born. In the past 18 years, Molly had lived a luxury life like a princess while Yolanda was abused by her foster parents all the time. Now, the truth revealed and Yolanda was back. Would the evil Molly just give up and leave? How would Natalia react to Yolanda's return?

Woo-Yeon, a second-generation chaebol, starts an internship at her father's company, where she works with Jae-Hwan, a notoriously prickly but highly capable and sexy boss. She soon discovers that Jae-Hwan’s wife, Ji-Su, was the one who bullied her in the past. Determined to get revenge, Woo-Yeon decides to make Jae-Hwan her own man.

After being betrayed by her fiancé Dave, Sophia secretly orchestrates her revenge as the "Investment Queen"—acquiring her fiancé's brother Ken Orlando's racing team, transforming Ken into a world champion racer, ultimately bankrupting Dave's company and completing her corporate takeover.

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.

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.

Nancy, an ordinary university student, saved the blind tycoon Yale. Since then, they fell in love and promised to stay by each other's side.However, due to their social status gap, Nancy was forced to leave. Before leaving, she donated her cornea to Yale and gave birth to a girl named Nancy and a boy named Norman. Six years later, Nancy lived a tough life to raise the two kids. In order to save her daughter who was ill, she had no choice but to go to Yale for help. While treating their daughter, Nancy and Yale went through misunderstandings several times. But in the end, they were back together to support each other for the rest of their lives.

When Elijah cheated, I didn’t cry or make a scene. I pretended not to know. When he kept Naomi on the side, I forced down the pain and endured it. After all, I had a lovely son with Elijah. He loved me, and I wanted to give him a complete family. It wasn’t until the day I found out that my son, Kai, had gone with Elijah to that other home and was calling Aunt Naomi with affection that I stopped wanting to endure it any longer. I told my childhood friend that I wanted a divorce. He looked at me deeply, saying, “Hazel, everyone in Neopolis knows that Elijah loves you with his life. His influence covers the entire city. Leaving him won’t be easy.” However, I replied numbly, “Then let Hazel die. Let her die in front of Elijah. Let him watch his wife disappear with his own eyes. From that moment on, there will be no more Hazel Foster in this world.” When I learned that Kai preferred Naomi, I realized that the past two years of endurance had been nothing but a joke. This time, I don’t want either my husband or my son anymore.

After her mother remarries, Leah moves into her stepfather’s mansion. Heavy rain causes her bedroom to leak, forcing her to share a tiny single bed with her cold, rebellious stepsister Isla. Trapped in a cramped room on a stormy night with their parents just outside the door, Leah’s repressed desires ignite after accidentally catching sight of Isla’s private moment days before. As they lie pressed tightly together, hidden touches and breathless whispers stir forbidden longing between the two unrelated stepsisters.

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.