

Zoe Shaw is a lowly intern desperate to raise enough money for her grandmother's surgery, while Chase Lloyd is a powerful billionaire whose unusual condition makes him unable to tolerate physical contact with women. Two people from completely different worlds collide after a drunken mix-up, only for Chase to discover that Zoe is the one woman his body accepts. A month later, a positive pregnancy test ties their fates together for good. From that moment on, he shields her from every grievance, indulges her with increasingly outrageous favoritism, and even offers her a marriage certificate. Zoe assumes Chase is only doing it for the sake of the Lloyd family's reputation and an heir. But she couldn't be more wrong. Because the one thing Chase wants more than an heir is the woman carrying his child.

My fiancé, Keith Odell is a hot air balloon pilot. His first love, Michelle Lavigne, insisted on taking a risk and flying to a thousand meters above ground when the balloon’s helium began to leak. In that moment of crisis, Keith grabbed the tandem parachute and leaped with her. With tears in my eyes, I begged him, “I'm pregnant with your child. Can’t you take me first?” But he reproached me. “Is this really the time to fake your pregnancy because of a bit of jealousy? You learned how to skydive but Chelle is afraid of heights. We’ll wait for you on the ground.” Then he forcibly shook off my hand and parachuted down with his first love. He failed to notice the hole in the only parachute he left me. Michelle had deliberately done it. Carrying our unborn child, I closed my eyes and leaped.

Willa Grant, a wealthy heiress, is hit by a car three days before her wedding and left paralyzed for life. What she never expects is that her fiance, Ethan Shaw, has betrayed her again and again. To make his illegitimate daughter Yara acceptable to Willa, Ethan deliberately delays Willa's surgery and secretly has her uterus removed. Heartbroken, Willa wakes to the truth. She pretends not to know anything, and while Ethan lets his guard down, she secretly contacts her best friend Sophie and leaves the country for surgery. Afterward, Willa personally witnesses Ethan meeting Jenna at the orphanage, Jenna coming to the Shaw residence to provoke her, Jenna framing her with a staged fall, and Ethan and his family insulting her without mercy. With her heart completely dead, Willa fakes her death in a plane crash and disappears overseas. When Ethan hears the news at the wedding, he breaks down. When they meet again, Ethan can only hide outside her hospital room and watch her rehabilitation from a distance. Crushed by guilt, he decides to let Willa live the rest of her life without him.

Ivy Shaw knew from the very beginning that the marriage certificate she and Noah Grant held was fake. But during their five years together, Noah had given her so much tenderness that she mistakenly believed she had finally exchanged sincerity for sincerity. It was not until she woke up once in the middle of a coma that she overheard Noah talking to his private doctor: the strange illness she had suffered every month all these years had been caused by Noah drugging her and drawing her blood, and he had stayed by her side only to use her blood to treat her half-sister, Chloe. Another hospital soon confirmed that prolonged blood loss and medication had caused multiple organ failure, and that she had at most a month left to live. Ivy no longer argued, and no longer waited for Noah to turn back. She relocated her mother’s grave, arranged her own burial plot and funeral, and even designated her father Richard and Noah as her pallbearers. But until the very last day of her life, Noah still chose Chloe again and again, and even ordered someone to destroy Ivy’s mother’s grave. In the end, Ivy died alone at home. Only after receiving the funeral home’s notification did Noah discover that Chloe had never been ill, that Ivy was the girl who had climbed over the wall to comfort him in childhood, and that the coma and blood draws he himself had caused had killed the one who truly loved him.

Jinsol lives a ordinary life, finding her only thrill in outrageous K-makjang dramas. One day, a mysterious light pulls her into the drama itself, turning her world into pure chaos. Suddenly a hidden chaebol father appears, her boyfriend's affair is exposed, and her life spirals like a scripted nightmare. Trapped in an inescapable plot, Jinsol discovers the rule: to escape, she must push the drama to No.1. Embracing K-Makjang Level-Up, she unleashes extreme twists, romance, and revenge—until the story turns on her. At the edge of becoming the villain, Jinsol fights back to reclaim her ending and return to real life.

Ten years ago, I was harassed by thugs and saved by a stranger. I always believed that man was Travis. I fell in love with him, and we were together for a decade, yet he never proposed, always entangled with his first love instead. So I let go and married my childhood sweetheart, Jason, who adored me beyond measure. When Travis learned of my marriage, he went mad with regret. And then I discovered the truth, the man who saved me that night was never Travis. It was Jason.

My online boyfriend suddenly sent me a photo of his lunch—a steaming hot steak fresh off the grill. [Praise me, baby! I'm being a good boy and eating my lunch!] I was just about to send 'good boy' when my eyes darted downward, and I saw the conspicuous red letters on the edge of his plate. Mike Tech. What a coincidence—I worked at Mike Tech too… My heart skipped a beat as I froze right then, my mind going blank. But could it be? My online boyfriend, whom I had met over a year ago… was right there beside me?

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."

When Luca Moretti chose the jewelry for our wedding, he still bought two pieces and let my twin sister Bianca choose first. One was a ruby cuff from a Sicilian auction. The other was an off-the-rack black onyx bracelet, the kind sold in every mall jewelry store. For the first time, I reached before Bianca could. I pointed at the ruby cuff. "This time, can I choose first?" Luca set his palm on my head with the easy affection he used to make me behave. "Bianca has always been stubborn about quality. If it's not the best, she won't take it. You don't care about this stuff, Elena. The other piece isn't bad." I didn't answer right away. Something inside my chest went quiet. In my own family, Bianca always got the first slice, the clean seat, and the room with the view. My mother said she needed the best because she carried the Bellini name better. My father called it practical. Marriage worked that way too. The Bellinis and Morettis had promised one daughter to the Moretti heir long before either of us knew what love was. Everyone assumed that daughter would be Bianca. Instead, she made her position crystal clear: she'd rather keep her freedom and her spotless public image than become Mrs. Moretti. So Luca turned to the remaining Bellini daughter. I had known Luca for twenty years, and in his world, I always stood behind Bianca. I looked at the black onyx bracelet on the table and pushed it back. "Bianca can have both. I'm not choosing." I didn't want another leftover choice. Not anymore.

When Luca Moretti chose the jewelry for our wedding, he still bought two pieces and let my twin sister Bianca choose first. One was a ruby cuff from a Sicilian auction. The other was an off-the-rack black onyx bracelet, the kind sold in every mall jewelry store. For the first time, I reached before Bianca could. I pointed at the ruby cuff. "This time, can I choose first?" Luca set his palm on my head with the easy affection he used to make me behave. "Bianca has always been stubborn about quality. If it's not the best, she won't take it. You don't care about this stuff, Elena. The other piece isn't bad." I didn't answer right away. Something inside my chest went quiet. In my own family, Bianca always got the first slice, the clean seat, and the room with the view. My mother said she needed the best because she carried the Bellini name better. My father called it practical. Marriage worked that way too. The Bellinis and Morettis had promised one daughter to the Moretti heir long before either of us knew what love was. Everyone assumed that daughter would be Bianca. Instead, she made her position crystal clear: she'd rather keep her freedom and her spotless public image than become Mrs. Moretti. So Luca turned to the remaining Bellini daughter. I had known Luca for twenty years, and in his world, I always stood behind Bianca. I looked at the black onyx bracelet on the table and pushed it back. "Bianca can have both. I'm not choosing." I didn't want another leftover choice. Not anymore.