Is Baekhyun'S Candy On Spotify?

Candice is a free soul when it comes to her private life. She just moved into Milan to be homemate with her best friend. On her first day in this city, a stranger rocked her world to the ground. A stranger who is at the age of her father. After that one night of passion and she will never be the same. Will she ever encounter this mysterious guy again? Will she find her candy daddy?

When I was seven years old, my younger brother went into anaphylactic shock after sneaking a handful of peanuts. Outside the emergency room, my mother slammed my head against the wall over and over, her face twisted with rage. "If you had been watching him like you were supposed to be, this never would have happened! You should be the one with a ruptured stomach, not him!" After that, whenever my brother so much as caught a cold, my mother forced me to eat spoiled leftovers as punishment. I once prepared an elaborate feast. She flipped the entire table and made me crawl on the floor to lick it clean. When I said I wanted to study culinary arts, she poured hot oil over my hands. My father wanted to send me to vocational school to learn a trade, but my mother clutched my brother to her chest and wailed. "She destroyed her brother's health! She owes him a lifetime of service!" When I was fifteen, my brother's gluttony cost my father an important business deal. I took the blame without even being asked, and the furious client forced me to drink more than half a gallon of hard liquor. By the time I was sent home with a bleeding stomach, my father had already scolded my brother. My mother took out her anger on me instead, slapping me so hard my ears rang and my vision went dark at the edges. "You useless thing! You should’ve choked to death at that table! I get sick just looking at you!" I coughed up black blood. From my pocket, I pulled out a piece of sour candy that had gone soft and sticky. It was the only treat my mother had ever given me with a smile, back before my brother's allergic reaction. I put the candy in my mouth and swallowed it down with the taste of stomach acid. The candy was so sour it made my throat burn. Whatever came next, I just hoped I would not have to be my family’s garbage disposal again.

"W-What do you want?" "I want to see the girl who saved me. Do you know who I am?" James sharply gazed up at Delilah's blue eyes. Delilah innocently shook her head at him. "From now on, call me, Mr. J." James Harristian, aka James Belgenza, is the mafia leader of Daga Nero, a splinter group of one of the oldest famous mafia families in Naples. Apart from his powerful ruler of the town who controlled the underground weapon industry in Europe, James was also a successful owner of a high-tech motor company. One day, James was deceived into a scam dinner by his mistress. It strived to kill him, but somehow, he escaped. Being trapped in gunshots with his enemy, a flower girl saves James' life from his shameful miserable death. Delilah is a flower girl who runs a small flower shop in an alley in Naples. She thought innocently helping James to get to the hospital without wondering who the man was. When James has another chance to breathe, he does not feel grateful to his savior unless to kidnaps her. Unfortunately, Delilah turns out to be a collateral of her father's debt, which ran off unable to pay. Therefore, he intentionally kept Delilah in his mansion and added more debts to confine her forever. What will happen when the debt is only a scheme to kill James and Delilah is a pawn? Meanwhile, James falls for Delilah, who tries hard to pay her unpaid debt.

Penelope Rivera's little boy toy, Theodore Schneider, is throwing another tantrum. She slides the divorce papers across the table toward me. "Just sign them for show. It's to keep Teddy happy." I clench the cuff of my suit and nod in silence. I sign my name in one swift stroke. As I'm walking out, I hear one of her girlfriends teasing, "Samuel's way too easygoing. Does he actually do everything you say?" Penelope takes a graceful sip of red wine and smirks. "Wanna bet?" They bet that I will quietly go through with the divorce at the courthouse, even if my eyes are red with tears. Listening their laughter, I rub my thumb over my phone screen and reply to the message I've just received. "Will you marry me?" it says. "I will."

At the end of the year, I went to the spa and discovered a stranger had been using my VIP card. When I logged into my personal profile, the last three treatment records were not under my name. The preference section listed specific details about someone else. She was allergic to rose essential oil, preferred lavender, and her heating pad temperature could not exceed 108 degrees Fahrenheit. Her menstrual cycle fell around the 15th of each month, so no waist or abdomen treatments during that time. I stared at the screen, my palms turning cold. Only my husband, Zachary White, knew this password. At the time, he said he needed it to check the balance and renew my membership. I scrolled down and found a system note at the bottom: [Birthday treatment reserved for December 30, prepared according to Ms. Anderson's preferences.] Today was December 30. My phone vibrated. Zachary had sent a message: [Working late tonight. Won't be home.] Familiar laughter drifted from the hallway. Through the glass door, I watched Zachary walk into the adjacent room with his arm around a woman, the beautician hurrying forward to greet them. "Mr. White, we have Ms. Anderson's birthday treatment ready, just as you requested."

After two years of marriage, Khloe Roswell went to reissue her marriage certificate—and discovered the document she'd cherished was a forgery. Determined to confront her husband, Trey Fox, she instead overheard the devastating truth: the man who had tenderly cared for her for six years had, in fact, been married for five—to their university’s advisor, who was six years older than him. She wasn't just his cover; he had branded her barren and forced her to raise his child with another woman. Disgusted, Khloe called the lawyer about her inheritance. Her declaration was simple and left no room for doubt. "I am unmarried. I have no children. The assets are mine, and mine alone." With that, she walked away without a backward glance. Trey, smug and convinced she had nowhere to go, waited for her to come crawling back. He never imagined the day he'd see Khloe again in a marriage alliance broadcast to the nation. Now, she stood in the spotlight, commanding unimaginable wealth, side-by-side with a man at the pinnacle of power—basking in the world's envy.