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Danielle Cross has spent her whole life running from breakups and troubles. She’s never stayed in the same place for long…until now. The moment she walks through the doors of Logan Dawson’s bar, there’s an attraction between them neither can deny. And when Danielle needs a date to her sister’s wedding, Logan is the man for the job. A cheap trick to fool her family is a small price to pay for a weekend in paradise. Playing pretend is easy. The hard part? Trying to convince yourself the feelings are only fake.

What would you do if you were different from other humans? What if you can hear other people's minds? For Khali, this was a curse... until her brother died. To uncover the cause of his death and punish the culprits, she needs to use her curse and find out the truth.

While I'm enjoying a promotional set that I've ordered from a restaurant, my best friend sends me screenshots she has taken from someone's social media feed. "I just met a weird customer who's clearly impoverished but acts like she isn't. How can I make her realize that she has no right to be dining in such a fine establishment?" The screenshot's descriptions grow even more familiar. "One has to spend an average of two thousand dollars in this fine dining restaurant, and yet this broke loser has the nerve to order the cheapest promotional set instead! On top of that, she's shameless and pathetic enough to make me take a photo of her that makes her look very fancy! "Seriously, I want nothing more than to post that ugly and unedited photo of hers on my social media feed and pin it there, just so I can humiliate her to no end!" Someone in the comment section tells the floor captain of the restaurant to watch her behavior. "She's a customer at the end of the day; your restaurant's reputation will suffer from a blemish if things get out of hand. "You should know when to stop. After all, you're in the hospitality industry, so you shouldn't act too arrogantly." The original poster has the guts to respond to that comment. "I will never show respect to those who can't afford a 14-thousand-dollar meal! The fact that I have the balls to post the entire thing on my social media means I'm not scared of that peasant at all! What can she do to me anyway?"

A week before the wedding, Lorenzo replaced the name on the marriage application with that of his uncle—Enzo, the new Godfather. A friend asked in surprise, "Are you crazy? Selena has waited for you for seven years. She's practically been left on the shelf! And you're giving her to your most ruthless uncle?" Lorenzo smiled carelessly. "Lena and I lost a bet, and I promised to do one thing she asked." "Anyway, once Selena finds out about the name change, she'll panic and come running to me to have it fixed." "Besides, how could my uncle possibly marry Selena? Once he finds out, he'll definitely call off the engagement. In the end, Selena will still marry me." His tone was frivolous and casual, and the group burst into laughter. I had been eavesdropping at the door for a long time, my heart growing cold bit by bit. On the wedding day, I showed up as planned. Lorenzo, who was always so high and mighty, went mad trying to break into the church: "I'm the groom! I'm supposed to be the groom!"

I get cyberbullied by the elderly people in my community. Apparently, they've uploaded videos, claiming that my charity kitchen that sells one-dollar meals not only sells bad food, but I've also sold them at ridiculously high prices. During the first year of the kitchen's establishment, I've sunk 420 thousand dollars and given it my all in running the kitchen. But all I receive in return is the Internet's backlash on me, which calls me for being a vile person. So, I decided to go along with the public opinion by shutting down the kitchen entirely. Then, I transform the venue into a card room that costs ten dollars per hour. As soon as the notice is posted, the entire community goes nuts. The elderly people's children soon show up on my doorstep and beg me to reopen the kitchen.

After ten years studying interior design overseas, I came back to my hometown to do work that mattered to the people who raised me. I offered the full package, from site survey to soft furnishings. The materials were chosen by hand. The price was fair to the bone. The town had just gone through a redevelopment. Everyone was getting new units. With the new family policy, every family wanted a third bedroom too. My business was good. Customers from the next county were driving in. Then a girl just back from a city college kicked open my studio with her phone on a livestream and her neighbors at her shoulder. "This is the dishonest one. Look at her. She has been ripping the village off." "In the city, an eighty-square-meter unit can be done for twenty thousand dollars. She is charging eighty." "That's a sixty-thousand-dollar margin. Sixty thousand. Right out of our pockets." The village fell in line behind her. They demanded the difference back. When I refused, they smashed my studio. They beat me into a coma. The pile-on online killed me. When I opened my eyes again, I knew exactly what I was going to do. I would refund every single one of them. And then I would tear out every single thing I had installed. Let's see what twenty thousand dollars actually buys you.