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“A callboy, huh? You begged so fucking sweetly when I had you spread out, coming apart on my cock like you’d never been touched before.” -- Scarlett Reed was done being the perfect, cheated-on wife. When her husband demanded an open marriage, she hired a callboy for one wild, no-holds-barred night of payback. He owned her body—hard, deep, filthy—until she left cash and vanished at dawn. Now she's pregnant. And the "callboy" is back: Ryder Voss, ruthless billionaire, smirking in the shadows. He pins her close, hand on her belly, voice dark and dripping heat: "You paid me to fuck you senseless, Scarlett. Now you're carrying my baby... and I want more. Every inch. Every moan. Forever." One night of revenge. One lifetime of obsession. Will she run... or surrender?

A marriage signed for one purpose, PREGNANCY. Love was never be a part of the deal. Bella, an innocent 22-years-old girl, is forced into a contract marriage with Aaron Lockwood, the big boss of the Lockwood Coorporation. Aaron had to marry Bella under contract because he wanted a heir. Lucy, his wife had been declared infertile since first year they had married. And now, their marriage had reached the 10 years mark.

When I'm three months pregnant, I fall down the stairs at home and end up losing my unborn baby. Since then, I'm immersed in the sorrow of losing my baby. On top of that, I hate myself for being careless during my pregnancy. But my husband, Domenico Ferrante, doesn't blame me at all. Instead, he keeps staying by my side and taking good care of me. "Honey, we'll still have another baby in the future. Don't be sad, okay?" I thought I married my true love. But on the day I get discharged, I overhear a conversation between Domenico and his Underboss, Rocco Carini. "Have you cleaned up the oil spill at the stairway? Nadia is about to get discharged. Don't let her discover the truth." After Rocco makes all arrangements, he hesitates for a moment before telling Domenico, "Don Ferrante, if the Donna ever finds out that you're the one behind her miscarriage, she will never forgive you." Domenico falls silent for a moment. Then, he replies casually, "I will never let Nadia find out the truth. Valentina has finally gotten pregnant after so long—I won't let anyone threaten her child's inheritance right. This is the vow I've made to Valentina in the past. "As for Nadia, she will always be my wife even if she doesn't have a child." It turns out that this isn't an accident. My own husband actually makes me miscarry our child just for the sake of another woman. Heartbroken, I call my older brother, Alessio Nucci. "Alessio, Domenico has killed my child. I want to divorce him and leave him forever." After a moment of silence, Alessio says in a cold, harsh tone, "Fake your death, then. Only after you've completely vanished from this world can Domenico forever live in the pain of not being able to find you ever again."

My sister-in-law finally became pregnant at fifty. But the family parrot, Pip, suddenly said, “Abort it. Abort it.” Hearing this, I immediately forced my sister-in-law to go to the hospital to get an abortion. My brother and parents desperately stopped me. They shouted, “Have you gone mad? Do you trust an animal’s words?” I nodded and answered firmly, “Yes. I believe everything Pip says.”

My husband's beloved lover suffered from menstruation complications. A traveling doctor claimed that a fresh placenta was needed to cure her. His gaze fixated on my seven-months-pregnant baby bump. And thus, I was pinned down on the bed as they ripped the placenta from my body. My son was carelessly tossed aside. He didn't even get the chance to cry before his tiny body fell silent forever. My husband pinched his nose in disgust, frowning as he looked at me—bleeding out, feebly reaching for my child. “It’s just a premature baby. He'll be fine after a few days of care. Why are you making such a fuss? Sandra is waiting for her medicine." He left and locked the door behind him without looking back. He claimed it was a lesson I needed to learn. By the time he finally remembered us, my son and I had long since bled dry, our bodies cold and stiff.

The fertility clinic called to inform me that my embryos were ready for transfer. I touched my abdomen, still numb from the anesthesia of that morning's egg retrieval. Even with cutting-edge medical technology, embryos couldn't be prepared this quickly. Before I could call back to clarify, my husband stopped me. "Mom's been pressing us hard. I pulled some strings to fast-track the process so you can get pregnant sooner. Imagine twins! My buddies will be green with envy." Silent, I drove straight to the clinic and dialed 911 on the way. "Hello? I'm reporting a fertility clinic involved in illegal surrogacy."