Deposit Book

It was almost New Year. I had just withdrawn money from the bank when I noticed that the amount on my passbook didn't match the cash in my hand. I counted carefully—my passbook showed a different figure than the five thousand dollars I was holding. Frustrated, I turned and went back to the counter to find the teller who had handled my transaction. Clutching the receipt, I tried to be polite. "Excuse me, I think there might be a mistake with this transaction." Instantly, she snapped, pointing her finger at my nose. "Don't you know that once you leave the counter, we are not responsible for any discrepancies?" I waved my hands, trying to explain. "No, wait, look again. I clearly withdrew five thousand dollars, but on my passbook, it shows…" She cut me off impatiently. "When you filled out the form, it was all right there. Once you leave the counter, it's not our problem. You signed the form yourself, confirming everything. Are we supposed to correct it every time someone claims a mistake after leaving the bank?" I froze. No wonder she kept repeating that the bank isn't responsible after leaving the counter. She thought I had come back to ask for more money. What I was really trying to explain was simple: I withdrew five thousand, yet my passbook showed that I deposited five thousand.

Iris Hale is hiding a secret even she doesn't know: She is The Ledger. Born with a photographic memory, Iris is the ultimate prize in a bloody underworld war. For decades, five rival Mafia families have hunted her bloodline, ready to tear her apart to get the secrets locked inside her mind. Dante Vitale is a man of shadows and cold steel. As the ruthless heir to the Vitale empire, he has one mission: find The Ledger and use her to crush his enemies. But the woman he finds isn't just a weapon—she’s the only person who makes him feel human. Now, Dante faces a choice: use her to win a war, or start one with every family in the city to keep her safe. But Iris is about to learn that her protector is the same boy who survived the fire that killed her mother. And in the mafia, the only thing more dangerous than a secret is a man who will burn the world down to keep it.

DEOS The world is distorted, yet most are oblivious about it. The creator seems to have abandoned his works and has left it incomplete, appearing in inappropriacy. All that's left is a book that is said to have all the records about the world and they call it "DEOS". Being aware of the distortion, a person becomes "awakened" and gains a power that can manifest their thoughts and mental images into the physical realm, a power that's almost like the creator itself. But, without the "awakening", normal people cannot see the actual power of the awakened nor the distortion, making them see what's beyond the superficial world.

The night my father collapsed, I learned some men negotiate with money… but Noah Thorne negotiates with lives. I never planned to marry a billionaire CEO, especially not the man my father owed $50,000 to. But when the hospital demanded an $80,000 deposit before surgery, life made the choice for me. While my mother sobbed in a cold hallway, Noah’s bodyguard arrived with an offer, an arranged marriage, a contract marriage that would clear the debt and cover every medical bill. When I confronted Noah, he presented the terms without cruelty: one year, no intimacy, public appearances only, and freedom after. He believed he was offering mercy but I felt like beautifully packaged captivity. Desperation crushed pride, and I signed. Our “marriage” was a seven-minute formality, no vows, no meaning. Moving into his penthouse was like stepping into a museum built to contain silence. Publicly, we were the perfect romance. Privately, we were strangers navigating a fragile arrangement thick with unspoken tension. Complications followed us: Noah’s elegant, smug ex who treated me like a placeholder, and my own ex-boyfriend, whose sudden reappearance triggered jealousy in Noah he couldn’t hide. Arguments, silences, and late-night moments softened something between us. Slowly, painfully, the man behind the empire emerged, the lonely boy shaped by loss, abandonment, and guarded walls. We began to care. We tried to deny it. Feelings weren’t in the contract but feelings don’t read contracts. Near the end of the year, Noah pulled away. I thought he wanted freedom. He signed the release papers with steady hands and a breaking heart. I was almost gone when he whispered the truth: “Please don’t go.” We tore up the contract. A year later, we married again, this time for love, not survival. This time, I chose him

My wife, Alisha West, has always been obsessively frugal. After marrying her, my single guilty pleasure became blowing money on luxury watches—almost like revenge for how absurdly tightfisted she was. By the time our daughter, Elyse Day, turned 7, she had inherited every bit of her mother’s penny-pinching nature. The two of them looked completely out of place in our sprawling mansion. And I loved it. I’d slip into my latest custom-tailored suits and watch them wince at my credit card statements, their expressions twisted in quiet pain. Until one day, lines of floating text suddenly appeared before my eyes. [This spendthrift idiot is still shopping? Doesn’t he know his wife’s company is about to go bankrupt?] [She’s been drained dry supporting this parasite. Her T-shirt collar is practically worn out from washing. Good thing the financially savvy male lead is about to show up and save her.] [Can’t wait for Alisha to file for divorce and kick this useless freeloader out. Let’s see how he survives fighting stray dogs for scraps under a bridge.] I slammed the limited-edition Richard Mille watch onto the table. Alisha, who was crouched on the floor breaking down delivery boxes for recycling, and Elyse, who was helping stomp them flat, both jumped in shock. A chill ran through me. I lunged forward, snatched the battered cardboard box from Elyse’s hands, and held it tightly against my chest. "No… no more buying. I’m returning this watch. "And these boxes… don’t sell them. I think we might need them someday… to lay out under a bridge when we’re sleeping outside…"

Elena believed that her life was simple. She had a career she loved. A boyfriend she could trust and a future that felt safe. Not until she met Valeria Moretti. Cold, powerful and dangerous. A billionaire queen who ruled from the shadows, where money bought loyalty and betrayal was paid in blood. When her boyfriend, Marcus made a deal he couldn’t afford to keep. Elena became the collateral he never expected to lose. Taken into Valeria’s world of steel dominance and threats, Elena found herself trapped in a cage where luxury had teeth. Valeria claimed she wanted only what she was owed, but that was far from the truth. Her gaze lingered, her words cut too precisely and the line between punishment and desire began to blur. Elena had never questioned her heart. She never questioned her sexuality. Until Valeria began to dismantle her certainty, slowly and deliberately, without laying a hand on her skin. Because to Valeria, she didn’t need to conquer with force. She conquered with presence. As danger and intimacy coil together, Elena must face the truth she had never truly allowed herself to see: some forms of captivity felt like freedom, and some queens didn’t ask for loyalty; they claimed it. In a world of ruled silk temptation, steel authority and sinfully forbidden desire, love may be the most dangerous debt of all. This story contains themes, including power imbalance, captivity, psychological manipulation, emotional intensity and morally grey characters. Reader's discretion is advised. When power demands surrender, and desire refuses to be denied, how far would you fall before you stop fighting it?