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Olivia Penn was the only daughter of the Penn family. She was born into privilege and status. People often called her the holy maiden of high society. She was untouchable and devout. The system gave me a mission to win her heart, but I ended up losing mine to her. After we got married, the mission was successfully completed. I should have left this world immediately, but I chose to stay for her. The cost was constant, bone-deep pain every single day. One day, I saw her being intimate with my younger brother in a church. The rosary she never took off was teasingly caught between his lips, then removed and tossed aside. Even our son wanted my brother to be his father. So, I gave them what they wanted. However, if this was what they wanted, why did they regret it after I died?

Due to the change in my work location, I'd already informed Paul Miller, my part-time helper, to look for a job elsewhere three months ago. Back then, Paul had agreed to do so immediately. But when I'm about to move out of my old home, he made an absurd request to me. "I've spent so many years working for you to the bone. According to this industry's rules, you have to take care of me for the rest of my life. But if you refuse to do that, you can pay me a pension of ten thousand dollars every month." I'm stunned, to say the least. Did I hire a part-time helper, or did I find myself a financial burden instead? I turn Paul down immediately, so he decides to take a step back. "If you don't want to pay me, then give me this house of yours. I can't just leave without anything, right? It'll just show how petty of an employer you are. If not, I'll humiliate you in the group chat!" Fury floods my senses immediately. Fine. Let's see who will get humiliated here!

While I was bleeding heavily from my miscarriage, the hospital needed a family member to sign some documents urgently. The nurse frantically called my husband on my phone. After more than ten rejected calls, he finally answered, his voice a frustrated yell, "I'm busy! Don't bother me with these little things!" When we tried calling again, I realized he had blocked my number. Despite the pain, I forced myself to sit up and sign the papers. Tragically, our baby couldn't be saved. Later, I saw a viral video of my husband kissing his childhood sweetheart under fireworks. "It was just a silly joke," she said, "but he surprised me by lighting up the whole city with fireworks as a present!" Seeing their matching wedding rings, I wordlessly slipped off the simple ring I'd worn for five years and threw it in the bin. After coming so close to death, he was now insignificant to me.

Years after graduation, someone suddenly tags me in the class group chat. "Mr. Warren is gravely ill, Mira. Aren't you going to do anything? You really are heartless!" I only realize what's going on when I click on the fundraising link in the chat. Our high school homeroom teacher, Joseph Warren, has late-stage cancer. Thus, Lyra Fairfield, the class belle, is leading a fundraiser and patient-donor matching process. "I'll donate ten thousand dollars. My husband is the director of Waverly General Hospital, and I've already asked him to arrange a VIP ward for Mr. Warren." Right after I send that message, the group pounces on me. "Mira, you contracted an STD back then and tried to pin it on Lyra. She didn't even hold it against you, and now you're trying to steal her thunder? You're unbelievable!" "I can't believe you're still lying through your teeth during such a serious situation. You never change, do you?" Lyra immediately defuses the tension. "Mira, I don't blame you for what happened in the past, but you really shouldn't impersonate the director's wife. I've already arranged the ward and surgery, and I'm donating another 100 thousand dollars to Mr. Warren!" I'm this close to laughing out of sheer anger. She's the one who scratched her name off the diagnosis report and framed me for having an STD all those years ago. I never even confronted her about it, and now she's playing the victim? Lyra soon posts a photo in the group chat, showing off her husband's car. Yet, when I see the man in the passenger seat, I guffaw. Isn't that my husband's driver? When did he start running a hospital?

On Christmas Day, eight months pregnant, I struggled through the kitchen,cooking for my husband and his secretary. When I finally sat down, hoping to taste a piece of turkey I didn’t even get during Thanksgiving, my husband shoved me aside like I was nothing. He slid the turkey in front of his secretary instead. “Alison,you’re already so fat. Stop eating. Let Daisy have it—she deserves to enjoy your cooking.” Daisy，chewing on the turkey I had painstakingly prepared, had the audacity to mock me under the guise of playing truth or dare with my child. “So, what do you think your mom looks like?” “Mommy looks like a fat pig on a farm!” “Her stretch marks? They’re like disgusting worms crawling all over her. Even Santa would run for his life!” Their laughter erupted like daggers piercing me from all sides. Humiliation and rage burned through me as my dignity was stripped bare. I demanded an apology from that vile woman, but my husband—my husband!—turned his cold, cruel face toward me and said, “Get out of here.” Pregnant, exhausted, and humiliated, I stood there in shock. Then I snapped. I grabbed the Christmas cake and turkey and threw them in the trash. I walked out without looking back. This wretched family doesn’t deserve a second of my effort or a single ounce of my love!

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A mature CEO of a successful clothing company develops a crush on his new secretary, a girl more than twenty years younger than him. After carefully navigating his feelings and the professional boundaries between him and his secretary, he discovers that the crush is not as one way as he initially thought. Can a secret crush that turns into a passionate affair develop more? Could these two people, despite the difference in their age and social position, create a lasting, loving relationship?

Carmela Blake never imagined her life would spiral into chaos. Once a rising fashion designer, her dreams crumble when her family faces financial ruin. To save them, she agrees to a loveless marriage with Damion Blackwood, a billionaire CEO whose icy exterior hides dangerous secrets. To the world, their marriage is a perfect union of power and wealth. But behind closed doors, it’s a battlefield of clashing wills, unresolved passions, and painful betrayals. Carmela soon discovers Damion’s true motives—he’s using their marriage to settle a score from the past

Memories. That is what Amara Brooks lacks. She lost her memories in a tragic accident two years ago. A tragedy she had no idea why had occurred. A human couple discovered her and rushed her to the hospital. She has no recollection of anything other than her name and her wolf. Regardless, she continued to live. However, a mysterious man later appeared in front of her. She couldn't shake the familiarity of his blue eyes, blue eyes that screamed ‘mate'. But she didn't understand why, instead of being relieved that she could finally recognize him, she felt fear and pain. As she figured out the missing puzzle, she was confronted with the whole truth, a painful past, and tragedy—a tragedy in which her memories ended and her undying love for her mate, Alpha Greyson, began.

In a world where werewolf packs are bound by loyalty, strength, and the ancient powers of the moon, Dawn’s life takes a dramatic turn when she finds herself thrust into a role she never imagined. Set in the heart of the Silvermoon Pack, Dawn’s love story with Alpha Xander begins with a bond of passion, loyalty, and the weight of leadership. Together, they navigate the responsibilities of leading a pack, the brewing war against traitors, and the shifting dynamics of power within the werewolf world. As enemies rise and alliances fall, Dawn and Xander face betrayal from within their own ranks. Amanda, a rogue traitor, threatens to dismantle the pack from the inside, pushing Dawn and Xander to make heartbreaking decisions to protect their people. But just as Dawn becomes Alpha alongside Xander, tragedy strikes on the battlefield.