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Lindsey Johnson asks her fiance's true love, Stephanie Sullivan, to repay her debt. The next day, Jacob Whitaker throws at her a ledger that she had never seen before. Every single expense from their five-year relationship is recorded inside. From small things like two-dollar ice cream to the expensive items like the luxury bags he gave her. Even the costs of hotel stays and condoms are recorded in the ledger. "I'll split half the hotel bills with you. After deducting the 100 grand Stephie owes you, you still owe me 2.08 million. You have one month to transfer the month to my account."

At my own wedding, the groom switched—Malcolm Lowell bailed, and the best man stepped in. Lumi, the Irving's real daughter, latched onto Malcolm's arm and smirked from the crowd. "I was just feeling a little low," she said. "Didn't think Malcolm would go this far for me." Malcolm raised a brow. "I just wanted to make her happy. You took her spot for years. Time to pay it back. This is for your own good." That's when it hit me—this whole wedding was a setup, a twisted show just to entertain Lumi. All because I was the adopted one. I'd lived in her place for over two decades. I didn't cry. Didn't freak out. I just took the new groom's hand, faced the priest, and said, "Keep going."

My biased mother brought my sister, Irene Baxter, to help me with my child. But one day, I forgot to bring a contract to work. When I returned home, I saw two bodies entwined. To cover up their secret, my husband, Sam Hodgson, and Irene pushed me off the tenth floor. It was only after my death that I realized I had been nothing more than a tool for carrying on the family name. "It's better that she's dead. Now my sweet girl can be a mom without having to go through childbirth." "Sleeping with her was revolting; she was like a block of wood. Irene is so much better." Even Irene had regrets. "Still, we shouldn't have pushed her down. She was smashed beyond recognition—otherwise, we might’ve been able to sell her corpse for a pretty penny." When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day they pushed me off the building. This time, I wouldn't let any of them off the hook.

Pierre Delacroix was once the powerful CEO of the Delacroix empire. But when a rather brutal attack left him with one blind eye and a weak heart, he is forced into an arranged marriage with Kate Beaumont to protect his family's reputation. Kate Beaumont who is a rising fashion designer however hides a secret from Pierre who does not know that Kate is the woman from one of his many one night stand that he has spent time trying to find. As Pierre faces several enemies who are determined to destroy him, Kate works in secret to keep him alive while betrayals, hidden truths and other deadly conspiracies also come to light. Now will Pierre and Kate face their unintentional pasts. And can their love survive the coming chaos?

"Shut down for rectification, fined $500,000, plus $300 compensation per customer. That’s the penalty from the Food Safety Bureau. Let’s see if you dare serve us gutter oil again!” Yves Larson, a part-timer at a construction site, sends me a provocative text purposefully, as though he's worried that I don't know what's going on. I just stare at the sign that says "closed for renovation", which is hung on the front door of my eatery. Never would I expect that the budget eatery that I've opened for the sake of the workers will be transformed into a blade that's aimed at me, thanks to the very same workers. That night, I sit in the apartment that my dad has left to me before his death. There, I spend the whole night smoking. Early the next morning, I head over to the bank and withdraw the money left behind by my dad, which is 260 million dollars. Half a month later, my eatery is open for business again. Work resumes at the construction site as well. Yves leads the construction workers to the restaurant at lunch. "I've taught him a good lesson last time. This time, I'm very sure that he won't have the guts to serve us cheap food made of shitty ingredients!" What he doesn't know is that the original eatery is already demolished. In its place stands a luxurious five-star restaurant. I stand in front of the main entrance as I perform a welcoming gesture to the workers. "This is a five-star restaurant that offers a private dining experience to you. The minimum bill for each table is 4000 dollars. You're welcome to dine here."

I’d been married to my husband James for three years. On Valentine’s Day, he gave his stepsister, Mia, one hundred and eighty thousand dollars, along with millions in jewelry. I, on the other hand, received a free bouquet of roses. When I didn’t look thrilled, he accused me of being a gold digger. “Mia never had anyone to care for her growing up. Why are you competing with her? Isn’t being Mrs. Smith enough to feed your vanity?” Furious, I stormed out of the house. When a car lost control and came barreling toward me, he instinctively rushed to protect Mia, who was standing a full ten feet from the road. I was the one who ended up in the hospital. Lying in that bed, I finally gave up. I signed the divorce papers without hesitation. “Giving up the title of Mrs. Smith is the dumbest decision you’ll ever make,” he told me, looking down at me from above before walking away. Seven years later, we met again. He took one glance at my simple dress and laughed out loud. I didn’t bother to respond. I just held my daughter close and waited for her father—the richest man in the city—to arrive.