Arlene Alda's 1 2 3: What Do You See?

I have a secret. When I touch someone, I see the face of the person they love most. Since Natalie moved in next door when we were seven, I always saw myself in her heart. At eighteen, when she held my hand—it was me. At twenty-two, when she proposed—it was me. On our wedding night, when she kissed me—it was still me. On the morning of our third anniversary, I fixed the hem of her dress. My fingers grazed her ankle. Out of habit, I closed my eyes. This time, I saw two faces. Mine. And some guy I'd never seen before. That night, Natalie's phone lit up. [Thanks for spending today with me, Natalie.] Twenty-one years. A hundred thousand touches. And for the first time, I was wrong.

Ten years ago, I lost my sight saving Ivan Hardman. Now, a decade later, Ivan lets his mistress live under the same roof as me. Every night, he coaxes me to sleep in the first half, only to spend the rest tangled up with her. Even my son secretly calls her "Mom." What they don't know is, I've regained my sight. And I'm planning my escape.

I have a secret. If I touch anyone, I will be able to see the face of the person they love the most. Ever since Dominic Hatterson has moved to the house next door when he was seven years old, I'm the one he loves the most. When he holds hands with me as an 18-year-old, I remain the person he loves the most. When he proposes to me at the age of 22, I'm still the person he loves the most. On the morning of our third year anniversary, I tidy his collar for him. The moment my fingertips touch his Adam's apple, I close my eyes out of reflex. Yet, that's when I see two faces. One belongs to me. The other belongs to a woman I've never seen before. That night, Dominic's phone lights up. "Thank you for spending the day with me, Dom." It's been 21 years since Dominic and I met. I've touched him over 100 thousand times already. And yet, this is my first time finding a mistake.

He is blind and has the money. She is poor and has eyes. Both are perfect together on their quest for revenge, which brought them into the turmoil of lust, love, and hate. *** Leonardo pulled Angela's arms hard and said, "You will serve me and do my wish." He then tore her dress. "This is a wrong move, Mr. Vera." Angela twisted her wrist from Leonardo's grip, but Leonardo's strength remained intact and overpowering; he instead made her a prisoner in his arms and then pinned her on the wall. She was almost , with only her lingerie covering her and below. And he touched her face, down to her neck, her . Angela's hatred escalated with his touch, and she struggled, but he persisted in taming her, dragging and pinning her to his bed. His weight over her made her immobile. And she remembered her gun in her bag and reached out for it at the side of the bed, as Leo’s hand grasped her other hand and pinned it above her head. He was blind, but he knew what he was going to do. A little voice in Angela’s mind screamed, "KILL HIM!" as she grasped the gun in one hand.

Five years after our divorce, my ex-husband, Alex Walsh, reserved the most expensive restaurant on the Hudson for Lydia Grant's birthday. She was Hollywood royalty. I was the ex-wife he wanted the world to forget. I stood outside with a white cane in one hand and five-dollar bunches of red roses in the other, trying to sell them to strangers. A dark red carpet stretched across the entrance, with reporters and fans packed behind the barricades. Whenever camera flashes exploded, I knew from the cheers that another celebrity had arrived. Security had chased me off more than once, but the diners here tipped well, and I was still twenty dollars short of the ingredients for my son's birthday cake. Five years ago, I had taken a seven-hundred-thousand-dollar check from his mother and gone along with the affair scandal she staged. Now an advanced meningioma had crushed my optic nerves and left me completely blind. The moment Alex recognized me, he kicked over my flower basket and flung a stack of bills into my face. "You had no trouble taking that check five years ago. How'd you end up selling flowers on the street?" He pulled Lydia, a woman who looked disturbingly like me, against his side. His voice turned to ice. "Open your eyes and look. I replaced you with someone better." I dropped to my knees and felt across the pavement for the scattered bills. When my fingers found one, I turned toward his voice. "Sir, would you like to buy a rose?"

Elena dreams of becoming a world-class chef. On the day she sets out to pursue her passion, her father, Jon Nolan, sells her in marriage to Brad, who paid off Jon's debts just to have Elena - and win a bet. For two years, she plans her escape from the hellish marriage. Suddenly faced with an external danger that threatened her life and that of her unborn child, she flees prematurely into Boston, carrying a secret that could bring down the most ruthless crime family in Massachusetts and her husband. Now, these men searched the city for her. Elena finds shelter in the Banks’ Family Center, where she hides until her child, Sky is born. Ary Banks, a reclusive billionaire with zero interest in love, walks into Elena's life. The first woman he ever finds intriguing! Ary soon learns that beyond her enchanting laughter is a world of storm, too enormous for her to survive. That same storm now poses a threat to his empire and everyone he cares about. To save his empire, he must protect Elena and Sky. But this means he must be willing to battle not only the external enemies but his estranged mother who has ruthless ambitions and also welcome disruption in his controlled world. Obsessed with controlling his life, Ary's mother will stop at nothing to tear away those closest to him - especially the woman he’s beginning to love - until she is the only anchor he has left, until she could rule his empire and life. Thrusted on each other by fate, Elena and Ary realize their growing connection and dare to trust again. As old wounds resurface, new enemies arise. They must decide if their fragile love is worth the fight - or if it’ll be destroyed before it could ever bloom.