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At the company team-building event, I got called out by my colleague Samantha Rowler for not removing my price tag—she accused me of being a "freebie chaser." "Oh wow, Carla, you drive a BMW 5 Series. Are you seriously planning to return your clothes within seven days too?" she sneered. I tucked the tag back in and ignored her snide remark. But after the event, as soon as I got home, my phone started blowing up. My chat apps were going insane. A friend had sent me a link: [Luxury-Car Executive Turns Out to Be a Return Addict!] Someone had filmed me leaving the price tag on and posted it to a short-video platform. I opened the comment section and was met with a barrage of insults. [Can't afford to live, huh? Tag warrior.] [Is this car a sugar-daddy gift? Those who know, know.] [OMG, does this woman have some kind of illness? Which brand is this so I can avoid it!] I immediately knew Samantha was behind it. I messaged her to delete the video. Instead, the next second, she blocked me—and pinned a comment to the top of the thread: [You can know a person's face but never their heart!] I was about to post a statement to clarify, my finger hovering over the send button, when I noticed the video's likes had already shot past ten thousand. I laughed. If they wanted a scene, fine—let's make it bigger. I quickly posted a new update: [The outfit is really nice. I'll wear it again next time.] The netizens erupted. The insults doubled, the heat skyrocketed, and the post shot straight to number one trending. I just put my phone down and went to sleep.

Today is the sixth time my girlfriend, Shirley Lake, is supposed to meet my parents. My parents and I wait at the restaurant for four whole hours. I call her over and over again, but she never picks up. Just as I'm about to try one last time, I see Shirley's childhood sweetheart, Joshua Solomon, post a picture on his Instagram, with the location tagged at a suburban hotel. The picture shows a woman's pale back, one shoulder bare, with a striking red spider lily tattoo visible on her skin. Underneath the picture was the caption, "We'll make it from 18 to 80." A mutual friend comments, "First-love couples are the sweetest!" I silently hit the like button, then comment, "Make sure to get buried together when you die. And don't come back to haunt anyone else."

  It is never too late to begin again... I had the perfect plan in place when I pressed the reset button on my life. Keep a low profile. It was the only way to keep prying eyes off my secret. Getting into a romantic relationship with the town's number one bachelor, Mario Princeton, was not the best way to remain anonymous, but I couldn't take my eyes and hands off Mario. I tried to dismiss our tension as mere infatuation at first, but this was one truth I couldn't deny. I drew attention to myself, and now someone is blackmailing me because they know what I'm hiding. I should be honest with Mario and his family. I'm not sure how much longer I can continue to tell this lie. But, let's face it, I'm terrified of squandering my second chance. Mario is fantastic, but how will he react if he discovers that his fiancé was a prostitute?

“Kayleigh, you will either take your pants off, or I’ll do it!” Alexander Hearst warned her. If her thighs were not swelling and in pain, this could probably lead to something else because the way he said it turned her on. “Then do it.” She could not take her joke back because he had already opened the button and pulled down the zipper of her pants. Carefully, he took her pants off, and she could hear him gasp as he carefully touched the red skin. He jolted when she yelped in pain. “What’s this, Kayleigh?” His voice was low and angry. She wished to tell him she was lucky her father did not hang her on the wall to punish her for getting married without telling them. It was an accidental marriage, only for convenience, but who would have thought she would be married to the stranger she met at the elevator, the gorgeous, sexually attractive, and the luscious man she had ever met.

"I'm still a virgin." He pulls away from me and appears surprised. "No, then we'll have to stop," He pulls away from me. I don't want this to stop. Something about this feels right. I'm not repulsed by a man touching me for the first time. I resume kissing him. "No, no, we don't." I mumble as I lock my lips with his and ease my hand into his trousers. Emily Adams needs money to afford surgery for her critically ill brother Liam, in her attempt to find another job she stumbles upon an ad offering to pay $350,000 but the only catch is she has to become a surrogate for a stranger. Billionaire Jacob Collin doesn't have time for women, he is only concerned about the family business, persuaded by his grandmother he agrees to have a child but when he meets the woman who has agreed to be his surrogate he begins to fall in love. Their encounter leaves them both yearning for the other, as Emily start getting attached and is unwilling to pull through with the contract and Jacob takes it upon himself to discover the identity of his surrogate but there are forces that wants to keep them apart. Can they find each other and kindle their love or will they never be together?

Allison Trainer has grown up surrounded by wealth, privilege, and the prestige of her family’s law firm. The Trainer Law Firm has been a cornerstone of success for generations, strengthened by its close partnership with Darson Law—a relationship that has brought both families fame, fortune, and influence. But no amount of wealth or status can make Allison tolerate one person: Tristain Darson. The son of her parents’ lifelong friends, Tristain is everything she despises—arrogant, infuriating, and seemingly intent on pushing every button she has. Their rivalry is fueled by endless arguments, sharp words, and an unspoken competition neither is willing to back down from. Then life throws them together in ways neither expects. Trapped in the same world of family expectations, high-profile events, and business dealings, Allison and Tristain are forced to confront the one truth they’ve been trying to ignore: the line between hate and desire is thinner than they ever imagined.

I'm betrothed to Hylton Miller from the moment I'm born. For as long as I can remember, he protects and loves me like I'm already his wife. Even if I get a tiny splinter on my hand, he holds it carefully as he gently clips it away. That is, until the young woman his family sponsors offends a client and is about to be sent to Zubania. He drugs me with a glass of wine. When I wake up, I'm in a foreign country and trapped in an illegal factory. Here, I endure inhuman abuse, torment, even humiliation... At my lowest, when despair almost swallows me whole, that sponsored young woman appears before me in a pristine, custom-made white gown. She smiles sweetly and presses the play button on a voice recording. And from the speaker comes the voice I long for every day and night. "It's fine. Alina's the young lady of the Winslet family—they won't do anything to her. But Priscilla? She's different. Worst case, I'll make it up to Alina when she gets back…" In that moment, it feels like someone tears my heart open with their bare hands.

My roommate was Rachel Travis, and something about her behavior always felt… off. On social media, she hit the like button on every single person’s posts, except mine. Whenever she asked for help, I was always there. However, the one time I asked her for a pad, she wrinkled her nose and called it "disgusting". For my birthday, I invited the whole dorm to dinner. When hers rolled around, she invited everyone, except me. Then, I saw my boyfriend, Ryan Cooper, at her birthday party. That’s when I finally snapped and confronted her. She looked at me, wide-eyed, all innocence. "What? Everything’s fine. Why are you acting like this? You’re just too sensitive." Even the other girls in the dorm piled on, saying I was overreacting and telling me I needed therapy. So maybe I was "too sensitive". Fine. Then, I would treat her exactly the way she treated me. Let’s see how she liked it.

I never thought a day would come when I would need to betray the person I loved the most, but here I am, biting my lip I looked over at him, and my heart ached: What am I doing? Why am I doing this? Can't I just run away with him? No, I can't I pressed the power button on my phone thrice. This is happening, this is so fucking happening. In less than a moment, the cop was standing outside the room we were in. He looked at me as he looked around. " Fuck, come we have to run," he whispered, holding my hand in his. Moving ahead, but I didn't. Raising an eyebrow, his eyes stared into mine. " I called them," I could see the heartbreak in his eyes. "Why?" He asked. " Because it's the right thing to do," "You know we are leaving, whether you agree or not," his voice was dark as I stared into his eyes. "Don't make me do this to you," he said, grabbing my throat. I didn't flinch, he could never hurt me. The pressure on my throat increased, but I tried to keep it down, trying not to show it in my face. "Don't push me," he roared. "Please..."

To save the three most important men in my life, I made a deal with the Moon Goddess. Trade my life for theirs. If I could make any one of them truly love me within five years, I'd get to live. But on the final day of the countdown, all three still had negative feelings toward me. According to the rules, I'd failed. My life was about to be erased. "Moon Goddess, could I send one last message? One final try?" Maybe out of pity, she granted me this last attempt. This message was my final shot. I hit the voice button in our group chat, fighting to keep my voice steady. "Could you guys love me just a little? I'm really going to die." After a moment of silence came their merciless laughter. "You'll do anything to compete with Lidia for attention, won't you?" "Cut the lies. This just makes us hate you more." "If you're so desperate to die, then just do it already." Mission failed. I gave them exactly what they wanted. But when I was about to die, they all freaked out.