

"I loved Dante Rossi for twenty years. I gave up my medical career, my dreams, and my dignity for him. On the eve of our wedding, I discovered he had gotten another woman pregnant — his childhood companion, Isobel. So on what should have been the happiest day of my life, I canceled the wedding, burned every photo and letter, and disappeared without a trace, leaving only one sentence on our calendar: “Let’s break up, Dante.” Two years later, I returned as a successful medical researcher, engaged to a man who truly loves me. But Dante finally learned the truth — I was the one who took a bullet for him five years ago, not Isobel. Now the once-arrogant heir of the arms empire has lost everything. He kneels before me, regrets eating him alive, and begs for another chance. He even blocked a knife meant for me with his own body. But it’s too late."

Innocent college student Liam Harper wakes up to discover he’s transmigrated into the body of billionaire CEO Clare Sullivan’s husband. He thinks he can coast on his wife’s wealth, but quickly learns the original owner was an absolute scumbag—a gambler,thief, and cheater who even had an affair with Clare’s younger sister, Jade Sullivan! When the manipulative Jade openly provokes her, Clare finally gives up and throws down divorce papers. In that critical moment, Liam explodes into action! He tears up the divorce agreement, kicks Jade out of the house, and grabs Clare’s hand with genuine sincerity: “Honey, don’t cry—I’m not divorcing you!”

Jamie witnessed the tragic death of her husband Ethan. With grief, she uses her magic to travel back five years and vows to save Ethan's life. To do so, she must make Ethan the heir to the Volckoski family, but things are far more difficult than she imagined.There are many sinister people in the family who want the money, including Ethan's aunt, Gloria Volckoski, who killed Ethan.Jamie and Ethan go through a lot of trouble to fall in love again and hold on to the heirship, but then fate plays tricks on them, and the two lovers face a life and death test again.

The air in the Parisian haute couture salon smelled like money and fear. I’d waited six months for my wedding dress. Now, it was draped over the shoulders of Sofia Ross—the trending influencer, and my mafia fiancé Vincent Cassio’s god-sister. The salon manager was sweating bullets, his eyes darting between me and the man lounging on the velvet sofa. Vincent Cassio stood up. He adjusted a fold of the diamond-encrusted train on Sofia with a casual flick of his wrist. “Her premiere next week needs a statement piece. She’s borrowing it. Pick something off the rack and stop making a scene.” His tone was flat, final. Under the crystal chandeliers, Sofia admired herself in the full-length mirror, a triumphant smile on her lips. I looked at my reflection in the same mirror, wearing jeans and a soaked trench coat. I looked like a lost tourist. Suddenly, the entire past year of planning felt like a sick joke. I didn’t yell. I just felt cold. Numb. I slipped the five-carat engagement ring off my finger. It hit the glass coffee table with a sharp, final click. “You’re right, Vincent. I don’t need this wedding dress. This wedding… I don’t need it either.”

In order to marry her beloved partner, the female protagonist was willing to seal the power of the ancestral vampire to marry the male protagonist. Eventually, with the help of her family and the female protagonist, the male protagonist became the leader of the vampires. However, behind a secret door in his bedroom, he discovered the cheating chamber carefully built by his husband. Heartbroken, she decided to unseal and return to the family, reclaim everything that belonged to her, and make the betrayer pay the price of blood. To her surprise, as soon as she got divorced, four handsome and charming vampire leaders courted her, even willing to become her blood servants.

Sylvia Xavier was born a vampire heiress. A servant's forbidden arts took everything -- her name, her arm, her family. Now she's married to a duke everyone thinks is insane. Turns out, he's the most dangerous ally she's ever had. And together, they're coming for the truth -- and everyone who buried it.

My husband, Cesare Ferrante, the most feared Don of the Ferrante family, had always hated children. Yet everything changed the moment my stepsister, Bianca Moretti, moved in next door with her six-month-old baby. Suddenly, my husband became obsessed with that child. He personally fed the baby formula, sang lullabies, and carried the baby everywhere he went. Every day, he came home exhausted at dawn, yet his face glowed with joy, as if that baby occupied his entire soul. I became invisible to him. Three days ago, someone forced my car off the road, and I crashed into the median. Blood streamed down my forehead, and my vision swam. I called Cesare 55 times. He did not answer a single call. Instead, he posted a photo of the baby on his social media. [My little angel smiled today!] I had had enough. Tonight at the family banquet, every member of the famiglia was seated around the table. I raised my final toast, then set down my glass. "I want a divorce." They all froze. "Are you insane?" My parents' voices rose in unison. Cesare grabbed my wrist, disbelief written across his face. "Giulia, you want to divorce me just because I was busy taking care of the baby and didn't answer your calls? You're actually jealous of a six-month-old child?" I did not meet his eyes. Instead, I stared at the glaring kiss mark behind his ear. "Since you love that child so much," I said calmly, "I'll make it easy for you. Go be that child's father."

For three years, Cecilia Nixon had been in a loveless marriage with Nat Gold, untouched by him, and her mother-in-law insisted she leave empty-handed. In a sudden act of defiance, Cecilia managed to force Nat to sleep with her and then vanished, pregnant. Six years later, upon her return to her homeland, the first person she bumped into was Nat. As they engaged in a chase, her rage got the better of her, and she confronted him, demanding a proper distance between them.

For ten long years, Cynthia had loved Ethan Luciano in silence. On the night he won the national championship, he finally pulled her into his arms: “I’ll marry you the moment we graduate.” The next morning. What she heard instead was Ethan’s cocky laugh echoing among his teammates: “She was so fucking eager… legs wrapped around me the whole time, telling me she loved me. She’s a good warm-up though. Looks innocent but takes it like a pro. I’m gonna use her a few more times until I get with Sylvia.” In that moment, Cynthia’s world shattered. The boy she had loved for ten years had never loved her back. She was never his future — only his practice.