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Lena Smith, a passionate architect specializing in sustainable design, is hired by billionaire Noah Tan to create an eco-luxury resort on a private island. Despite their shared ambition, Lena’s commitment to sustainability clashes with Noah’s vision for extravagance, leading to constant tension between them. As they work closely together, both uncover deeper emotional struggles—Lena’s fear of never being taken seriously in her career and Noah’s guilt over a past business failure. Their professional conflict leads to a breaking point when Lena resigns from the project after a heated argument. However, when a rival billionaire threatens to outbid Noah for the land, he desperately calls Lena back to help save the project. Reluctantly, she agrees, and together they craft a new design that merges their visions, transforming their professional collaboration into a personal awakening. As they spend late nights together working on the resort, their growing feelings for each other culminate in a passionate kiss. Despite the success of the resort, Lena and Noah must navigate their fears and past wounds in order to embrace a future together. In the end, they learn that trust, love, and collaboration are the keys to not only their professional triumph but also to building a lasting relationship. "Blueprints of Love" is a story of love, ambition, and the power of working together to create something extraordinary.

When billionaire Dominic Hayes is accused of corporate fraud, he hires Serena Caldwell, the country’s top lawyer, to clear his name. As Serena uncovers a web of betrayal led by Dominic’s vengeful cousin, danger escalates, and sparks fly between them. Torn between professionalism and passion, they must work together to expose the truth—before it’s too late

From the time I was ten until I turned eighteen, my parents made me write 299 IOUs. Every time I needed money, I had to borrow it and pay it back as an adult. Then I got into a car accident. I needed money for surgery but was still short by 3,000. With no other options, I went to my parents for help. But they just gave me cold smiles. “Clara, you’re eighteen now. We have no obligation to give you money anymore. If you need it, write another IOU.” While holding back tears, I wrote my 300th IOU. After my surgery, I saw my adopted sister’s social media post. In the pictures, she was celebrating her 18th birthday on a cruise. She was the center of attention, like a princess. My parents had given her a luxury apartment in the city and a Maserati as birthday gifts. Even my childhood friend was looking at her with love in his eyes. She said they were the ones she loved and thanked them for giving her the best of everything. I looked down at the crumpled IOU in my hand and suddenly laughed. Once I paid off my debt, I would no longer need such a family.

My boyfriend has always doted on me. However, after learning that I can't go to work at the bank after falling and injuring myself, he snaps at me. "Why didn't you tell me you switched shifts with someone else? That was a cheap move!" I don't refute him. Instead, I pull out a hospitalization record as I watch the bank descend into chaos. In my past life, I attended to a couple who wanted to deposit five million dollars into their account. Their child had been diagnosed with a rare illness. They'd gotten the money by selling their organs and mortgaging the home—it was to save their child's life and pay for the surgery the following day. However, the money was stolen the following day. I helped them check where the money was withdrawn, but the surveillance footage showed I was the one who did it. My best friend wept when the couple questioned me. "You shouldn't have stolen the money someone needed to save a life, no matter how materialistic and covetous you are!" My boyfriend hurried over and said, "I wondered why you suddenly had money to buy a car—you stole it! You're heartless!" The child died after failing to receive treatment in time, and the couple stabbed me to death on the streets out of devastation. When I open my eyes again, I think injuring myself will help me escape this. To my surprise, the surveillance cameras once again capture me stealing the money.

When the college admission notice arrived, I suddenly developed a high fever and was bedridden. My sister encountered a kidnapping on her way to help me collect the notice, and her life was uncertain. My parents hated me deeply. After tearing up my admission notice, they forced me to give up my studies and work in a factory. Later, I experienced a kidnapping as well. After narrowly escaping, I hid in an abandoned factory and sent them a message for help. My dad called me and shouted at me without restraint, “Lena, are you even human? How could you play such a joke on us on Jessica's memorial day!” “Do you have any idea how much your mom and I wished it had been you who died back then?” In my last moments before death, their insults echoed in my ears. I was tortured and killed, turned into a monster, and my body was thrown into a stinking ditch for three full days. Even my father, the most experienced forensic expert, couldn’t recognize me. When my sister returned home with the guy she eloped with years ago, my dad had just restored my appearance through technology. They knelt before my decaying corpse and cried until they fainted.

When my mother falls gravely ill, my husband, who has asthenospermia, promises to help me think of something. So, I give him all my savings. Despite being pregnant, I get a part-time job doing DoorDash deliveries. However, I see my husband when I pass by a realtor's office. He's supposed to be hard at work like me, but he's buying a place for his childhood friend. He even has his arm around her. "That old hag thinks I only earn that little each month. Don't worry, Yvette. I only give her 10% of what I earn. The rest goes to you!" I hold back my tears and grab the hem of his shirt, wanting to borrow some money for my mother's treatment. However, he shoves me away irritably. "I give you 2000 dollars a month! Isn't that enough? Have you spent it all on useless things?" He leaves without another look back, ignoring my cries and pleas. He also kicks me, effectively murdering the child he's always dreamed of having. Later, he grovels at my feet and begs for forgiveness. It's too bad I've already given up on him. I don't want him anymore.

Our bridal room was set on fire, and my husband, a firefighter, was grievously wounded while trying to save me. I sent him to be saved at the hospital where Winnie Sloan, his childhood friend worked, but the surgery ended up being a failure, and my husband passed away. After the announcement that my husband was deceased, Winnie told me that his dying wish was that he wanted a child. Hearing that, I powered through my grief and used the sperm he had previously frozen to conceive a child through IVF, raising my son to be enrolled in the most prestigious university in the area. On the day of the celebration party, my son kicked me out and invited my husband and Winnie onto the stage as his 'biological parents', and that's when I found out that my husband had faked his death. All those years ago, he and Winnie had swapped out the embryo I'd conceived in secret. The son I had painstakingly given birth to and raised turned out to have no blood relation to me whatsoever. Meanwhile, my husband had been enjoying a luxurious life overseas with Winnie while waiting for a chance to reconnect with his son. In my rage, I confronted them and demanded an explanation, but ended up dying because they pushed me down the stairs. When I came to, I was back to the day of the fire.

My daughter accidentally scratched my husband's young mistress's face with her nails. For that, my husband had her fingers chopped off. Covered in blood, she came home seeking help, only to be assaulted by an intruder. I called my husband, crying, but his mistress's sweet voice answered the phone. "Stop using these lowly tricks to get Jack's attention. All you're doing is making him sick!" I begged my husband to take my call, but all I got in return was a barrage of insults. "Nothing is more important than Yvonne's face! I'm busy taking her to the hospital! I don't have time for your drama!" Later, my daughter's organs were removed by the intruder. Even in death, she was still tightly holding onto the birthday gift she had prepared for her father. My husband, a top lawyer, personally defended the criminal who assaulted our daughter. He let that man walk away scot-free after what he had done. On the day he celebrated his birthday with all our relatives, he finally knew that our daughter had died. He completely lost his mind.

The most popular girl from my high school is getting married. She invites everyone in our class to the wedding. I want to act like I don't see the message, but she deliberately tags me in the group chat. "You kept pretending to be a rich girl like me in high school, but I don't hold it against you. In fact, I'll allow you to attend my wedding tomorrow to see what the rich life is like." The other classmates speak up. "You're so generous, Haley. It's no wonder you can marry someone from the Baumer family. I can't believe you can even forgive someone as materialistic as Emma!" "Does someone like Emma Larkin even deserve to attend Haley's wedding? She's so full of herself." As the insults become worse, Haley Stockwell steps forward to keep the peace. "Come on, let's put this behind us. I'm not bothered by these things since it's been so long. Anyway, let's not bear a grudge against Emma when she's already so poor and ugly." Everyone in the group chat starts singing her praises and calling her kind and innocent. I sneer. Haley is the one who kept pretending to be rich—I'm the true heiress from an affluent family, yet she made me out to be a liar. She turned me into the target of everyone's insults. I check the digital wedding invitation to see that the venue is my villa. The groom looks familiar—isn't he my husband's driver? I smile at the thought of what's going to happen. I reply, "Sure! I have to attend your wedding!"

There's an earthquake. My husband, the captain of the rescue team, abandons me to save Wendy Smith, his true love. I don't stop him. I let him go. Why? Because when he was faced with the same choice in my past life, he saved me because I was eight months pregnant. Meanwhile, Wendy remained trapped under the rubble. She ultimately died due to a lack of oxygen after the delayed rescue. Later, on the day I went into labor, my husband brought me to Wendy's grave. He watched me coldly as I collapsed on the ground from the searing pain. He ignored my pleas. "Does it hurt, Yelena? Wendy's pain was a thousand times worse when she was trapped under the rubble!" I stared at him in disbelief as he descended into insanity. "You were safe that night—you were in the safe triangle zone! Wendy would never have missed the best time for rescue if not for you using your pregnancy to threaten me! I want you to experience all the pain she went through!" He forced me down on my knees and bumped my head on the ground before Wendy's grave. He ignored the blood that flowed down my legs. Ultimately, I died after major blood loss from a difficult labor. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day the earthquake happened. This time, neither I nor my child will wait for him.