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I thought marrying him would be my fairy tale ending. Instead, I became invisible. For three years, I played the perfect wife to David Chen, cooking, cleaning, and donating blood whenever his first love needed it. I gave up everything: my identity, my family, my pride. All for a man who never once looked at me like I mattered. Then came the photo. He was sleeping peacefully next to her. The text called me a homewrecker in my own marriage. That’s when I realized I wasn’t his wife. I was just a convenient blood bank with a marriage certificate. So I walked away. Signed the papers. Took back my life. Now David’s calling, but I’m not answering. His mother’s threatening, but I’m not scared. Because I’ve got a secret that will shake this city to its core. I’m not just Maya Lawson, the nobody who married above her station. I’m Maya Lawson, heir to the Lawson empire, the richest family in the country. And I’m about to show them all exactly what they threw away.

I have to admit that my husband's true love is a charming and charismatic woman. After she returns to the country, my husband, who always says he knows nothing about being romantic, racks his brains to think of ways to please her. Even my son wants her to be his mother—he says it to my face, too. To my husband and son, I'm only worthy of cooking and cleaning for them. Later, an autistic little girl tugs on my shirt and says firmly, "Zach might not want his mommy, but I do!" It's only then that I realize flowers can bloom in parched land. When I'm finally living the life I want, my ex-husband and son come to me, telling me they regret their actions… My ex-husband calls and says Zach misses me. I answer, "I'm not his mother anymore." Then, he says he's made a mistake—he's realized that I'm the one he loves. The man beside me kisses the back of my hand, sounding jealous as he says, "Do you think you deserve to be with her when I've yet to win her heart?"

It's Thanksgiving, and I'm waiting for Zeke Jones to come home after cooking up an extravagant meal. When Zeke returns, he doesn't even glance at the meal I've prepared for him. Instead, he proceeds to pack a bag. "I can't celebrate Thanksgiving with you this year," he says. I take another bite of my turkey and say nothing. At the stroke of midnight, Zeke's first love posts a new photo on her social media page. In the photo, she's lying on Zeke's back with a bright smile on her face. The moon outside the window is bright. "Happy to spend Thanksgiving with good company," her caption reads. Instead of hysterically questioning Zeke about the post, I just tap on the "like" button without reacting in any way. Zeke calls me. His voice sounds panicked as he tries to explain himself. "Please don't misinterpret the post. I will definitely spend Thanksgiving with you next year…" I freeze for a few moments, letting out a small laugh. I don't offer him a reply. Next time, he says? Oh, Zeke, I'm afraid there won't be a next time.

When my husband from the arranged marriage lost his memory, I couldn't resist messing with him. “Adrian. Say 'Boss.'“ The man in the hospital bed hugged his pillow and looked up at me like a good little boy. “Boss.” I nodded, satisfied. Perfect. A whole year of marriage, and he never once called me his wife. One car crash, and he'd been demoted to calling me Boss. Adrian and I had an arranged marriage. I did it for my family's dying factory. After the wedding he was colder than the fridge. We slept in separate rooms. He wouldn't eat my cooking and wouldn't take my calls. He even saved my number in his phone as “the Bell girl.” I lived in the Crane house more carefully than the hired help. His mother thought I was poor. His aunt thought I was trash. Adrian thought I was an eyesore. Then came the crash. A clot pressing on the nerves in his brain. The doctor said his mind had rolled back to about six years old. I looked at the man in the bed, clutching my sleeve and refusing to let go, and on the inside, I was glowing. Payback. My moment had finally come. I wanted money. I wanted revenge. I wanted a divorce and a clean getaway.

Synopsis Rose has nothing. Three years inside the Quinn mansion — cooking, cleaning, invisible — while her husband waits for the woman he actually loves. When that woman walks back through the door, Rose walks out. Divorce papers signed. Suitcase in the rain. Then four black cars block an empty road. The Albert brothers have spent thirteen years searching for their kidnapped sister. The DNA doesn't lie. Rose Albert is finally home — to a family that loves her, a stepsister who wants her gone, and a name worth half a billion dollars. But the real problem has green eyes. Damien Rodriguez walks through locked doors. His reflection moves half a second behind his body. His eyes burn red in the dark. He arrived at the Albert estate one morning, looked past everyone in the room, and pointed directly at Rose. Her. She's mine. The contract predates her birth. The agreement was made before Rose existed — between Damien and her bloodline. He has been watching her entire life. Waiting. Certain. Because Rose isn't just an heiress. She carries something four hundred years old inside her. And Damien — ancient, dangerous, and not entirely human — has been waiting through centuries for her to come back to him. She just doesn't know it yet.

My husband is cooking for his true love when his parents are abducted. I don't stop him from doing anything. Instead, I call the police. I've been reborn. In my past life, I stopped my husband from caring for his true love. In turn, he stopped his parents from leaving the house, helping them avoid a tragedy. However, his true love ended up getting an amputation after cutting her finger and getting a wound infection. My husband didn't blame me after the incident. His revenge only came a year later when I was almost due for labor. He tricked me to a remote cliff and pushed me off. "Nothing would've happened to Hailey if you hadn't stopped me that night! This is all your fault! Why is she the one who had to have an amputation? You're the one who deserves to die, you evil woman!" I rolled down the cliff while pregnant with his child and died a horrible death. This time, he leaves the house to care for his true love as he wishes. But when he returns, he falls to his knees in despair. He looks like he's aged a decade.

I gasped, shocked as he pulled me to his lap in the wheelchair, roughly. “M.mr. K.king,” I stutter, afraid and surprised. He glanced up at me, his grey eyes shining in an emotion I couldn’t place. “If you are going to pretend to be a doting wife to me, cooking meals and trying to make unnecessary conversations, then you might as well strip naked, get on the bed and let me perform my duty as a doting husband by damaging those walls in between your legs and trust me, my illness won’t be a hindrance,” he whispered against my neck and for a second I forgot I was married to a literal devil. A handsome devil in a wheelchair. **************** After an accident, Dexter King got confined in a wheelchair. A once admirable man turned sour, hated by all and even his fiance left him for his brother. After a marriage proposal he couldn’t refuse, Dexter and Aurora got married and Dexter promised within himself to make her life miserable. But what happens when Aurora is hell bent on healing his broken leg? And what happens when they realize the accident was all a plan? Enemies are definitely closer than Dexter thinks, and betrayals are bound to happen, but would everyone give up on him, including Aurora, who has her share of a harsh life from her family?

I messed up—big time. Blurting out at a family dinner that my boss, neighbor, and best friend’s brother, Arnold, asked me to be his wedding date was not my finest moment. Mortified, I’m ready to apologize and smooth things over with his family, but Arnold? He’s not having it. Instead, he doubles down, proposing a wild plan: a fake relationship that suits us both.The deal? Three months of playing the perfect couple while my toddler and I live in his house, rent-free. In return, Arnold shields me from my toxic ex, and I help him dodge the town’s relentless matchmaking efforts. It’s the perfect arrangement—until the lines between fake and real start to blur.Arnold’s not just playing a role. He’s reading bedtime stories to my son, cooking us meals, and kissing me like the world might end if he stops. With every tender touch and stolen glance, he makes me feel seen, desired, in a way I’ve never known. The guestroom feels colder each night when his strong, tattooed arms are just down the hall, calling to me.As our forbidden kisses deepen, so does the risk. Are we crafting a love that could break us? Or are we building something breathtakingly real?

Drugged by her father, stepmother and step-sister, Trina Ryder had a passionate one night stand with a total stranger. As if that betrayal wasn't enough, her conniving family took away all hers and her ailing mom’s vast inheritance and sent them away from their ancestral home. Eager to regroup so as to become powerful enough to reclaim what’s rightfully hers, Trina relocates abroad, only to find out that she's pregnant for the mysterious stranger she had a one night stand with! Six years later, she returns to her homeland with a five year old daughter in tow. With her degree in hotel management and excellent skills in cooking, she got the much-coveted job as the private secretary/ personal chef to the richest and most successful businessman in the whole United States of America, Zane McAllister. When an incident led to her  cheerful, boisterous and mischievous daughter, Eleanor Ryder and Zane McAllister’s mini version— the cold, aloof, indifferent and extremely smart five year old Jayden McAllister to discover that they are actually biological twin siblings, their two unsuspecting parents are in for a roller coaster of surprises! Jayden and Eleanor formed an alliance and their mission; place a trap for their parents such that they have no option but to fall.  But exactly what will Zane and Trina fall into? Undying love or a reckless battle of custody? 

On the way home during the holidays, my fiance's sister-in-law, Pamela Kensington, brings out an electric pot that requires 2,000 watts in order to function so that she can cook some meatballs. "The sockets in the electric car are meant for us to use, no? If we can't have hot food during our trips, then what's the use of having an electric car in the first place?" My fiance, Mason Vance, who is driving, doesn't bother to stop Pamela. Instead, he helps her fill up the pot with water while smiling. In my previous life, I had strictly stopped them from cooking meatballs and told them that we didn't have enough power left in the electric car. If they were to cook the meatballs, the car would stop in the middle of the journey, and we wouldn't be able to make it home. Pamela, who tagged along for the ride, thought that I refused to let her son have a piping hot meal, so she began criticizing me. Mason, on the other hand, thought that I was being too much of a busybody. He slapped me in front of everyone before pushing me out of the car. I was frozen to the bone in the blizzard as I watched everyone else leave me behind happily. In the end, I died from hypothermia. When I woke up again, I realized I'd returned to the moment when Pamela is about to plug the electric pot into the socket. This time, I hand her a power strip. "Go ahead and use this power strip. It can channel more power for your meatballs to cook quickly."