

The doctor told me I had 72 hours left, unless I got access to the newest experimental treatment. However, there was only one slot available, and my husband Bowen Liddell gave it to my sister Yvonne Lawson instead. "Her kidney failure is more critical," he said. I nodded and swallowed the white pills that would only speed up my death. In the time I had left, I got a lot done. The lawyer's hand trembled as he passed me the documents. "Are you sure you want to transfer the two billion dollars in shares?" I replied, "Yes. Give them to Yvonne." My daughter, Candice Liddell, was giggling in Yvonne's arms. "Mommy Yvonne bought me a new dress!" I said, "It looks beautiful. Make sure you always listen to Mommy Yvonne, okay?" The art gallery I built from the ground up now had Yvonne's name on the sign. "You're too kind, Kathy," she said, crying. I told her, "You'll run it even better than I ever did." I even signed all my parents' trust fund away. That was when Bowen finally gave me his first genuine smile in years. "Kathleen, you've changed. You're not so aggressive anymore... You're beautiful like this." Indeed. This dying version of me finally became the 'perfect Kathleen Sullivan' in their eyes—obedient, generous, and no longer argumentative. The 72-hour countdown had already begun, and I couldn't help but wonder what they would remember when my heart stopped for good. The good wife who 'finally learned to let go', or the woman who completed her revenge by dying?

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.

In her previous life, Maggie Lopez was framed by her boyfriend, Jeffrey Harris, and her stepsister,Chelsea Lopez, and was put in jail. After Maggie got out of jail, her mom had already passed away. Finding out the truth about everything, Mandy chose to kill Chelsea and die with Chelsea and Jeffrey. When Mandy woke up again, she found she was back to the day she was framed for committing murder in her previous life.The next moment, she decided to get into the next room and use him as an alibi.

Evan, the skating prince, is as cold as a swan on ice; Max, the wrestling team captain, is as wild as a beast trapped in a cage. Due to an unexpected burst water pipe, Evan's school skating team was forced to use the changing room of Max's wrestling team. Two individuals from entirely different worlds suddenly collided within that cramped space, filled with hormones and sweat. Max viewed this "beautiful newcomer" – who had intruded upon his territory – with a mix of mockery and desire for conquest; using the right to use the arena as leverage, he coerced Evan into signing a humiliating "flexibility training partner" contract.

My daughter, Ruby Pratt, has leukemia. She needs a bone marrow transplant—and fast. Out of everyone in the family, my husband, Dan Pratt, was the only match. I begged him for an entire month before he finally agreed to go through with the donation. But on the morning of the surgery, he went completely off the grid. I stood outside the hospital all day, waiting. No calls. No texts. Not even a shadow. That night, his childhood friend, Valerie Kinder, posted on Instagram. In the photo, Dan was holding Valerie's hand with one arm and carrying her young son with the other—on a beach in Lulabo City. The caption read: [Soaking up the sun! Dan cleared his whole schedule to join us on a month-long trek and we finally made it to the coast! My little boy said Uncle Dan made his ocean dream come true. Pure joy!] My heart splintered. While I was drowning in worry over my daughter, he was off playing happy family with them. I wiped my tears and typed a comment beneath her post: [Not 'Uncle.' From now on, he's your son's father.] That night, I finally got a call from him. "Babe, don't be like this," Dan said. "You're not being fair. "Valerie's son has been bullied at school for not having a dad. I couldn't stand seeing him hurt, so I took them on this trip. It was supposed to help him heal. "I'll catch the first flight back tomorrow and head straight to the hospital to donate the marrow. I promise." I hung up with a bitter smile. The next morning, Dan rushed into the hospital room. But all he found on the bed was a death certificate.

Once the deadliest gunman in the West, Logan vanishes after his wife dies and lives as a humble bartender, shielding his son from his violent past. But as the outlaws invade the town and his son’s life hangs by a thread, Logan decides to draw his gun one last time, to protect his loved ones and remind the West— that he is still the best!

For three hundred years, the cultivator Sean Yale single-handedly guarded the pass, keeping the demon invasion at bay and ensuring peace for Aureate. But his long vigil bred only complacency and distrust. Accused of fabricating the demon threat, he was cast out by the very nation he protected. Without him, the demons descended, throwing the realm into chaos. As Aureate faced its doom, Sean moved on, aiding other lands against the onslaught, his legendary might now sought by all who once doubted him. In the end, it was he who pushed the demons back to the wastelands and restored peace, leaving those who betrayed him to face the consequences of their folly.

Tired of the life of violence, Frank becomes an ordinary taxi driver, hoping to live out his days in peace. However, when he accidentally rescues two girls from kidnappers, he's hired as the driver for one of them, Wendy. What seemed like a simple job quickly turns dangerous—Frank discovers that Wendy is the prime target of multiple powerful forces...

After a failed tribulation, Quella, an ancient cultivator, is transmigrated as a mistreated noblewoman. Her quest for revenge is complicated when she falls for a charming merchant, Xavier, only to realize he's the man she slept with years ago. Now she must win back his love.

I was the one who broke Kane Blackwood's heart. He was the Alpha heir, my boyfriend since we were kids, and I pushed him so hard that I drove him all the way to the Northern Stronghold. He stayed there for seven years. Now he was back. He had a new woman with him, and they were going to hold their bonding ceremony here, in our pack. That same week, the pack witch told me I had three months left to live. When my mother wheeled me outside to see him, Kane's mouth curled into that cruel, mocking smile I remembered too well. His dark eyes swept over me from head to toe, taking in the wheelchair, the thinness of my arms, the paleness of my face. "Well, well," he said, his voice low and sharp. "Seven years and you look like hell. Can't even walk anymore?" I tugged my sleeve down, hiding the scars—the silver tracings left by years of failed treatments. I kept my voice steady. "I fell. Broke something. It's nothing." He let out a short, cold laugh. "Right. Anyway, my bonding ceremony's coming up. You should be Vivra's maid of honor." I smiled back at him. I had gotten good at smiling through pain over the years. "Sorry, but I'm leaving soon. Somewhere far away." Then I patted my mother's hand. She didn't say a word, just gripped the handles of the chair and pushed me back toward the house. I didn't look behind me.