

Ian Brown marries Yvonne Miller out of gratitude to her family, and has spent years quietly making her comfortable, growing Miller Group into something genuinely powerful while asking little in return. Yvonne sees only a spineless live-in husband; her heart has always belonged to Sean Jones, the man she truly wants. When Ian's parents ask to meet her over the New Year holiday, she turns them away without hesitation. Then the call comes. Yvonne's own parents are in a car accident and urgently need a blood transfusion. Ian finds her immediately. Yvonne, convinced he's fabricating a crisis to manipulate her, doesn't just refuse, she actively tries to stop him from helping. By the time the truth surfaces, the damage is already done, and the weight of what she threw away settles over her all at once.
![[ENG DUB] They Regretted When I Took the Throne](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
Noah Marr is the last surviving bloodline of his parents, a young heir who sleeps until noon, counts money until his hands cramp, and lists eating and gaming as his highest aspirations. At his own birthday banquet he announces these goals without embarrassment, and the room collectively writes him off as a useless rich boy. His fiancee moves to break off the engagement. Nobody takes him seriously. Noah takes none of it personally. Then, the people responsible for his parents’ deaths finally step into the light, and everyone who ever laughed at him gets a very different look at who they were actually dealing with. Every sneer he absorbed, every dismissal he let slide, was just silence before the thunder.

Right before our Mating Ceremony, my mate, Alpha Damien, told me he had to temporarily mark an Omega from our pack, Seraphina. He claimed she had the Moon Sickness and would die if he didn't mark her. I fought him on it, but the next day, he moved Seraphina right into the penthouse of the Pack House. The suite meant for the future Luna. My suite. To calm me, he even got on his knees, his eyes red as he promised, "Once she's safe, I'll remove the mark. You'll still be my only Luna." But then, Seraphina found me, a medical report in her hand. Six weeks pregnant. They'd already held their marking ceremony long before Damien ever came to me. My heart shattered into ash. My pen dug into the calendar, carving a vicious X over the date that was supposed to be our Mating Ceremony. Then, I opened my laptop and replied to the email from the European Laurel Healers' Guild. "I accept your invitation. I leave on the day of the Mating Ceremony."

Right before our Mating Ceremony, my mate, Alpha Damien, told me he had to temporarily mark an Omega from our pack, Seraphina. He claimed she had the Moon Sickness and would die if he didn't mark her. I fought him on it, but the next day, he moved Seraphina right into the penthouse of the Pack House. The suite meant for the future Luna. My suite. To calm me, he even got on his knees, his eyes red as he promised, "Once she's safe, I'll remove the mark. You'll still be my only Luna." But then, Seraphina found me, a medical report in her hand. Six weeks pregnant. They'd already held their marking ceremony long before Damien ever came to me. My heart shattered into ash. My pen dug into the calendar, carving a vicious X over the date that was supposed to be our Mating Ceremony. Then, I opened my laptop and replied to the email from the European Laurel Healers' Guild. "I accept your invitation. I leave on the day of the Mating Ceremony."

To save the company her late mother left behind, Sienna Hart plans to marry Adrian Woods, the youngest heir of the Woods family, while securing investment from returning financier Ethan White. Her plan succeeds almost too well. Ethan falls for her at first sight, and Adrian gradually falls in love with her. Neither man realizes they are brothers who took different surnames, and neither knows they're in love with the same woman. When the truth is exposed, Sienna fears she's ruined everything. Instead, the brothers become fierce rivals, risking both their bond and their future as they compete for her heart. Caught between them, Sienna must decide who she truly loves.

The second day after I was transferred back to Los Angeles, I ran into someone I used to know on a street corner. She stepped right in front of me, eyes going wide. “Mia? Mia Rossi? Why would you come back now? Dante's marrying Camille at the cathedral in a week.” Dante was my first love, and also the youngest heir to a mafia dynasty on this side of the Atlantic. He'd made me a promise once: that he'd make the entire Moretti family kneel and welcome me in. We had a deal: the day he officially took over as Don would be the day he married me. But his family had other plans. They arranged a match for him: Camille, a princess from one of Sicily's five great families. Pure bloodline, the genuine article. At first, Dante swore up and down she meant nothing to him. Less than nothing. Then I started noticing how he looked at her. Softer every time. Like he was falling. One night, riding home after a shift at the bar, Camille's car came out of nowhere and took me down. The gas tank caught, and half the block reeked of burning rubber and scorched metal. I was pinned under the wreckage, blood seeping from the back of my skull down my neck, warm at first, then cold. Dante was the first one there. He beat the ambulance. The first thing he did was walk past me. He crouched down, lifted Camille out of the passenger seat, and didn't look at me once, just dropped a few words over his shoulder: “I already called an ambulance. Hang tight. Camille's had too much to drink. I need to get her home.” That was the moment I was done with him. Completely, finally done. While he was gone, I discharged myself. I bought the farthest plane ticket I could find that same night and left without looking back. Five years passed. “Mia, you have no idea.” The woman grabbed my wrist, dropping her voice. “Dante spent years turning half of Europe upside down looking for you. You came back at the right time. He still keeps a seat for you every month on his birthday. Camille's too proud for a lot of things

My girlfriend told me she'd been bonded to a System. It let her see a Demand Index for how much everyone around her needed her. At first, her eyes had gone red with tears. "Your number's only thirty. Does that mean you don't love me?" "Not needing you doesn't mean I don't love you," I told her. After that, she started holding an umbrella for her male assistant on rainy days and driving out of her way to take him home. When I asked why, she brushed it off. "Don't overthink it. His number was just high, so I figured he needed the help." Then I came down with a fever and took to my bed, and she chose to go shopping with him instead. "Your number's low, but his side is more urgent. Let me finish helping him first, then I'll come look after you." She shut the door behind her. I closed my eyes for a moment, then picked up my phone. "Mom, I'm coming home alone this New Year."

The night I died, my whole family was busy celebrating my twin sister Elena's eighteenth birthday. Everyone thought Elena was going to die the next day. We're elves. My father worked as a clan guardian, and after Mom gave birth to Elena and me as twins, she stopped working altogether. We should have been a happy family. But from the moment we were born, Elena and I were bound by a witch's curse. Because Elena came into the world one minute before me, she took the full weight of it onto herself. She was never supposed to live past eighteen. From the day we were born, Elena was the family's treasure. Mom and Dad treated me like I owed her something. New toys went to her first. New dresses were always her pick. Every night, Mom would sit in Elena's room for at least an hour before she'd turn off the light. I always fell asleep alone. One night I had a nightmare and ran barefoot to find Mom. She was holding Elena and didn't even look up. "Go back to bed. Stop making a fuss." I kept telling myself: she's dying, of course they're kind to her. But every time I let something go, that splinter in my chest pushed a little deeper. Then the day the curse was supposed to take effect finally came, and naturally, that was the day my stomach cramped so badly I could barely stand. Mom and Dad didn't hesitate. They shoved me into the cellar and locked it from outside. I crouched on the stone floor with the smell of mildew everywhere and knocked on the door over and over. "Mom... Dad... my stomach really hurts, I can't even stand up... let me out, please..." One sentence came back through the door. "Your sister is dying tonight! Can you just give us one day? One day!" "But... Mom... I'm scared..." Nobody answered after that. The cellar went quiet. My eyelids grew heavy. My last thought was: if I were the one dying of a curse, would they come hold me too.

The night I died, my whole family was busy celebrating my twin sister Elena's eighteenth birthday. Everyone thought Elena was going to die the next day. We're elves. My father worked as a clan guardian, and after Mom gave birth to Elena and me as twins, she stopped working altogether. We should have been a happy family. But from the moment we were born, Elena and I were bound by a witch's curse. Because Elena came into the world one minute before me, she took the full weight of it onto herself. She was never supposed to live past eighteen. From the day we were born, Elena was the family's treasure. Mom and Dad treated me like I owed her something. New toys went to her first. New dresses were always her pick. Every night, Mom would sit in Elena's room for at least an hour before she'd turn off the light. I always fell asleep alone. One night I had a nightmare and ran barefoot to find Mom. She was holding Elena and didn't even look up. "Go back to bed. Stop making a fuss." I kept telling myself: she's dying, of course they're kind to her. But every time I let something go, that splinter in my chest pushed a little deeper. Then the day the curse was supposed to take effect finally came, and naturally, that was the day my stomach cramped so badly I could barely stand. Mom and Dad didn't hesitate. They shoved me into the cellar and locked it from outside. I crouched on the stone floor with the smell of mildew everywhere and knocked on the door over and over. "Mom... Dad... my stomach really hurts, I can't even stand up... let me out, please..." One sentence came back through the door. "Your sister is dying tonight! Can you just give us one day? One day!" "But... Mom... I'm scared..." Nobody answered after that. The cellar went quiet. My eyelids grew heavy. My last thought was: if I were the one dying of a curse, would they come hold me too.

I am diagnosed with severe systemic lupus erythematosus, and I only have three days left to live. When my husband rejects my 188th plea for help, I take my test results and enter the hospice care center. "Hello, I'd like to schedule my own cremation process and apply for government aid." Ten minutes later, they arrive. Before I can speak, my lawyer husband, Jasper Horton, coldly slaps me across the face. "You're faking a terminal illness just to steal attention from Janice?" My doctor brother, Casey Carter, snatches the medical report from my hand and scoffs at it. "Lupus? If you're going to fake being sick, at least make it believable. Only one in a million people gets this." I endure the pain in my body, return to the counter, and hand in the application form and my medical records once more. The staff member sees the butterfly-shaped rash on my wrist and sympathizes with me. "I have no family left," I say. "I'm requesting cremation in three days, location doesn't matter. I just don't want my death to burden anyone."