What Awards Did 'How Late It Was, How Late' Win?

Machines of Iron and guns of alchemy rule the battlefields. While a world faces the consequences of a Steam empire. Molag Broner, is a soldier of Remas. A member of the fabled Legion, he and his brothers have long served loyal Legionnaires in battle with the Persian Empire. For 300 years, Remas and Persia have been locked in an Eternal War. But that is about to end. Unbeknown to Molag and his brothers. Dark forces intend to reignite a new war. Throwing Rome and her Legions, into a new conflict

“Give my best friend one month to stay in our house, Love.” Aurelia had been enjoying her afternoon snack when her husband’s words made her turn toward him. “Stay… with us?” “Yes.” Ethan stepped closer, taking her hand, his voice soft with pleading. “Just one month. You heard what Anna told us yesterday about her life, didn’t you? Could you really bear to see her suffer even more? What if her ex-husband comes back and hurts her again? She’s pregnant too—just like you.” Auri looked at her husband for a long moment, searching his face. “Please,” Ethan said quietly. “Will you?” The permission Aurelia gave that day became the beginning of a ruin she had never imagined. From the moment Anna arrived, Ethan’s attention slowly drifted away from her. The affection that once belonged fully to Auri was now divided—often leaning toward his childhood friend, who had come carrying sorrow and carefully displayed wounds. Day after day, she lost more than her husband’s warmth. Until one day—heavily pregnant, her body was still weak after nearly losing her life due to a severe allergic reaction—Aurelia was driven out of the house she had once called her heaven. But her suffering didn’t end there. At the lowest point of her life, Auri was abducted by her husband’s business rival—used as leverage to pressure Ethan Harrow in a ruthless corporate battle. A real threat. A pregnant woman’s life is placed on the line. And yet, to Ethan… it was nothing more than a trick. Ethan didn’t come. He believed it was all a lie. A cheap performance—one he thought his own wife had staged.And perhaps, in that moment, he had already lost everything… long before he realized what he had thrown away.

Claire Sterling went to prison because her family decided she was expendable. Her husband, Nathan Sterling, needed her out of the way. His mistress was already waiting to take her place. Their son testified against his own mother without hesitation. When Claire is released, Nathan offers her a choice he believes is merciful: apologize, return quietly, and remain Mrs. Sterling in name only. Their son makes it clear he wants nothing to do with her. Claire declines. She files for divorce and takes her case to Carter Thorne—the man Nathan has spent years trying to crush in business. Carter doesn’t offer sympathy. He offers strategy. The divorce becomes a public defeat. Claire walks away with control of most of the assets, while Nathan loses more than money. His reputation fractures, his partners retreat, and the leverage he once relied on disappears. Free from the marriage that destroyed her, Claire rebuilds her career on her own terms. Her work earns recognition fast, and her name becomes valuable again—this time without the Sterling family attached to it. Nathan’s life unravels just as efficiently. The woman he protected exposes her real ambitions. The son who rejected his mother realizes too late who actually cared. The family that pushed Claire out collapses from the inside. When Nathan and his son finally show up at Claire’s door, regret has replaced arrogance. They ask her to come back. They ask as if forgiveness is still owed. Claire listens, then makes it clear: She is no longer waiting to be chosen. Whether they belong in her life at all is now her decision—and one she has no reason to rush.

Lennon Shepard's first love, Jessie Sterling, has caused a medical malpractice incident due to an operational mishap. That night, Lennon cuts off the oxygen for Mabel Judson's mother to coerce her into taking the blame. At the moment, he's sitting across from Mabel with a confession placed between them. Once she signs it, she will never be able to pick up a scalpel in this country for the rest of her life.

My sister ate the half plate of mango I had left on the table and broke out in hives from her allergy. My brother stormed over, pried my mouth open, and poured the mango juice straight down my throat. "You love mangoes so much, don't you? Today you'll get your fill." The juice flooded my lungs. I choked, fighting for air as my throat swelled in agony, begging him to save me. Instead, he turned and locked me in the basement. "Betty suffered because of you, so don't expect any comfort. Stay down here and reflect on what you've done. Growing up without any real guidance. No wonder you're so vicious." Two days later, my mom remembered me. "Ralph, that's enough. Let Catherine out. If she stays there much longer, she might start resenting Betty." My dad chimed in casually, "What's the big deal? Just buy her something nice to make up for it." My spirit clung to his back, floating along with them toward the basement. I'd like to see how they were going to compensate a dead girl.

In the past, I was Raymond Wright’s wife. Or rather, a prisoner kept in his gilded cage. I was an internationally renowned jewelry designer. Under the spotlight, I had the most dazzling presence. Raymond was the most influential business elite on Floor Street, and he had an extreme desire for control. He claimed to love me, but he never truly loved me for who I was. He was determined to shape me into the “perfect Mrs. Wright” that existed in his imagination. He disliked me having my own social circle and hated it when I appeared in public. I once naively believed that if I were obedient enough, he would eventually recognize my sacrifices. The turning point came at a banquet. Someone there publicly mocked me as “nothing but a canary kept by Mr. Wright.” I could bear it no longer and retorted. Raymond rushed over and coldly scolded me. He said, “Behave yourself. Don’t embarrass me.” At that moment, the surrounding snickers and the disgust in his gaze forced the truth upon me. Ultimately, I fell down the stairs in an “accident” orchestrated by my stepsister. When I opened my eyes again, I was greeted by a warm-toned pendant lamp in the apartment I lived in before I married Raymond. On the desk calendar, a date was circled in red—there were only five days left until my wedding to Raymond. I had returned to the past. This time, I did not want to get involved with Raymond anymore.