Good Crime

When my dad died, my husband was at the airport—picking up another girl. She looked like me. Only difference? He actually loved her. I was just the stand-in. Three years of marriage? It cost me my dad... and every last shred of self-respect. But at least I finally saw him for who he was. I left the country in a soaked dress. That's when it hit him—what it really meant to lose. "Emily, I was wrong!" "Daniel Wilson, it's too late." Stand-ins don't get love. They get a new beginning.

I give my grandmother a gift she'll never forget on her 60th birthday. My husband and I get into a fight on the highway back to my hometown. He pulls over in the emergency lane and chases me out of the car. He then drives off, leaving me stranded on the highway. He later gets into a major accident on the highway. His car is totaled, and he dies. It's actually not an accident—it's homicide. I'm the murderer.

I donated 45 million to the city's best kindergarten, but my daughter failed the enrollment interview. She was a polymath. Furious, I demanded an explanation from admissions. She hurled an assessment file at my face. "Your daughter's brilliant, but you're the exact opposite! You're dead last among the parents!" She continued, "The others have tech domes! You're nothing but a regular Ivy League graduate! Your degree's worth about as much as toilet paper!" The other teachers laughed as well. "If we admit her daughter, it's going to look bad on the other kids. She can't take that responsibility." "Yeah, I can't believe she's demanding an explanation from Ms. Johnson. Her husband is the kindergarten's biggest stakeholder. He can make sure her daughter has nowhere to go." The admission teacher shoved me away. With disdain in her eyes, she said, "Out of my sight if you know what's good for you. My husband is picking me up in his Rolls-Royce. His car plate alone is worth more than your life! It's lucky 777! Only one in Georgeport!" Three sevens? That was my husband's car. I laughed mirthlessly and texted my husband. "I had no idea you had another wife behind me."

---Cali is an international and an expensive runway model and was married to Hadrian Calypso Forbes, a multi-billionaire guy based on Dubai, after refusing to marry the son (Luca Amadeus Turner) of her dad’s bestfriend. She then lived a happy and financially better life with her husband and son, but just as they say-life is like a ball, you will not stay in your place or position forever, but always remember that just as the ball, never forget to bounce back. ---Calista Payne Aurellian, just like her name she’s been completely surrounded by pain throughout her life. After spending 10 years in prison and paid 2 billion dollar penalty for being accused with such a heinous crime that she never did. She will bounced back to get her life, her son, her company and image she had a decade ago. With the mission and plan she had, would she be able to restore again everything or will she continue to mourned and silently scream in the middle of the night forever?

Isabella Moretti is known to be the best among the rest. A deadly rose amongst a field of daisies. A strong ripple in calm waters. A killer seeking revenge, finds two allies more than willing to lend her a hand. Will she trust them both? Or will she trust neither?

Menghadapi pernikahan yang rumit membuat Shireen hanya bisa pasrah akan keadaan, namun saat hak asuh anak dirampas, ibu mana yang akan diam saja melihatnya.

A series of past murders catch the attention of the police and the media. All the people who were killed were women, all of which had some sort of relationship with a well known and successful businessman named Asriel Parker. For some reason, the murders all point to him as the number one suspect and connection between them. The reasonable thing to do is to put him behind bars but there is one problem. "Everyone is innocent in the eyes of the law until proven guilty." There isn't a shred of evidence that actually pinpoints Asriel Parker as the culprit. With that statement in mind, Selena March, a good police officer and detective is sent undercover as his live-in Personal Assistant to dig up whatever information she can use to put the murderer behind bars. Selena has no idea what she signs up for but she knows for a fact that falling in love is not part of the whole 'undercover' mission

During the pack's wilderness training, my adopted sister, Tessa, shoved me from a cliffside thick with wolfsbane. My Alpha, Fenrir, turned and left with Tessa feigning injury in his arms, leaving me for dead at the bottom of the ravine. I died instantly, but my soul lingered, watching everything with cold detachment. I watched as Tessa's tearful complaints swayed him into blaming me for my own disappearance. "Will Selene ever stop causing me trouble?" "She's weak and always looking for trouble. How could she possibly be fit to be our Luna?" He had no idea I was already dead at the bottom of that cliff choked with wolfsbane. Five whole days. The poison hit my bloodstream like liquid fire, racing through my veins with merciless speed. As my body decayed under the moonlight, my love for him faded with it. The title of Luna, the magnificent coronation I had dreamed of, everything I once cherished was now meaningless. The Selene who loved him was well and truly dead.

The cataclysm was upon us. The world was besieged by a wave of deadly frost, covering everything it touched in an icy coffin. We were trapped in a cave of ice, but fortunately, Joshua Frost came to our rescue just in time. I thought I was saved, but I thought wrong. Joshua didn't even give me a moment of his time. Instead, he went to my best friend's side. "Irene isn't good with the cold, and she's not in the best of health. Just hang on for a bit, Sera. The rescue squad's coming soon." When the rescue squad did come, I had passed out from the extreme cold, my body numb. While I was weakened, Joshua stripped me of my Ability and gave it to my best friend.

I was reborn before I signed up for a scientific expedition tour to the South Pole. My boyfriend’s adopted younger sister used a system to forcefully exchange my physical senses with hers. She deliberately went out to do something good on a day with a temperature of 107.6 °F, like delivering water to the outdoor workers. On the other hand, I got so hot in a 60.8 °F air-conditioned room that I fainted from heat stroke. I begged Wendy Little to stop, but she feigned innocence. “You must make a good excuse if you want to lie like that!” Max Little sounded disdainful. “How selfish! You’re quite lucky to enjoy yourself in air-conditioned rooms every day. You can’t tolerate Wendy doing something kind.” Wendy took her time and basked in the sun for a month outside. People took photos of her and put them on the internet. Countless netizens were moved by her. But I died from heat stroke in an air-conditioned room. Nobody even found my corpse. If that was how it was, I wanted her to enjoy the coolness of -184 °F in the South Pole.