

Silas Thorne has seen enough lives destroyed by gambling to dedicate his entire existence to ending it. He beats Lady Sparrow, the Titan, the Ace one by one, talks them all into walking away, and disappears with them into quiet retirement as a foot massage therapist. It holds, until it doesn’t. His sister-in-law is drowning in gambling debt, and the underground world he walked away from is the only place that can save her. He goes back in disguise, looking every bit the scruffy laborer, and proceeds to dismantle the underground gambling scene from the inside out. The legend they forgot to fear just walked back through the door.

Underworld queen Cecilia quits the game to be a housewife for her wife-crazed husband until his manipulative ex-girlfriend comes back with a rich backer to kick her out at a family banquet.She slaps the ungrateful sister-in-law, chokes the ex, leaks the mother-in-law's cheating pics, and then fakes helplessness the second her husband shows up to destroy the ex. After he beats the crap out of the ex, Cecilia leans down to sneer in her ear: "I can wipe out your whole family in 2 seconds.How dare you mess with me?"

Four years of marriage. One signature—his own—that set me free, though he never realized what he was signing. I was Sophia Moretti, the invisible wife of James Moretti, heir to the city’s most powerful mafia family. But when his childhood sweetheart, the dazzling and privileged Vicky, returned, I finally understood: I had always been temporary. So I played my final move. I slid the papers across his desk—divorce disguised as routine university forms. James signed without a second glance, his fountain pen scratching across the page as carelessly as he'd treated our vows, without noticing he was ending our marriage. But I walked away with more than my freedom. Beneath my coat, I carried his unborn heir—a secret that could destroy him when he finally realized what he'd lost. Now, the man who never noticed me is tearing the world apart trying to find me. From his penthouse to the underworld's gutters, he's turning over every stone. But I'm not some trembling prey waiting to be found. I rebuilt myself beyond his reach—where not even a Moretti can follow. This time, I won't be begging for his love. He'll be begging for mine.

Valeria Moretti lived the fairy tale the world envied. Luca Moretti, the golden heir of the most ruthless mafia family, abandoned blood and power for a girl from the slums. He called her his salvation. He made the press believe in forever. But forever had a second address. While Valeria believed in the man who trembled at her bedside, Luca was building a secret life with his childhood sweetheart Bianca Rizzo — complete with twin boys who already called him Daddy. The night Valeria discovered the truth, she didn’t scream. She calculated. Three days later a luxury cruise ship vanished in a staged tsunami. The world declared Valeria dead. Luca’s empire burned. He tore through cities, bribed governments, and buried men alive searching for a body that did not exist. Seven months later he finds her — pregnant with his child, building a quiet new life under another name, and colder than the sea that supposedly took her.

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.

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.

After Jane Michael married the rich scum Kirk Jones, she suffered endless abuse from him and his family. One day, her sister Judy stabbed her to death. When she was at her last breath, Judy coldly said, "It's all your fault I'm this miserable." When Jane woke up, she was sent back three years, to the day her family held the husband selection for her and her sister. She realized fate had given her a second chance. At life's crossroads once more, just as Jane was ready to avoid Kirk, her sister snatched him, securing the marriage. But Jane made a choice no one expected. She pointed to a young man in servant's clothes, and said, "I have decided to marry this man."

Martin Duncan, a successful businessman, showed endless tolerance to the so-called victim, Emily Terry, because her brother died saving him. Time after time, he hurt Lena Turner, the woman he truly loved. Yet without realizing it, he was drawn to her resilience and deep devotion. Lena, amid the pain, gradually awakened, secretly gathering evidence and striking back step by step, exposing the shocking scheme of Emily and her brother Eric. In the end, after losing Lena, Martin completely broke down. Consumed by regret, he began the long road of trying to win her back.