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I'm Sophie Gould, the only daughter of the wealthiest man in Arberton. My mother doesn't like me, though. She treats her niece, Tanya Hall, like her own and allows her to take over my identity. At a banquet where all affluent families are gathered, Tanya takes my seat before I can. Then, she says in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear, "You wouldn't even be here if not for Mom wanting me to show you around so you can expand your horizons, Sophie. "Remember this—you might not be a member of the Gould family, but your actions are linked to us. Don't disgrace us." In the past, I would've stood there with my eyes red, at a loss for what to do. It was too bad I'd been reborn. I smile icily at Tanya and kick her off my throne. "I should've expected this of an impostor. To think an insignificant banquet like this is enough to make you act so obnoxiously! And did you say you're part of the Gould family? You have no idea the sort of trouble you'll be getting yourself into!"

It was Christmas Eve. Once again, my parents left me alone at home, chasing triple pay at work. However, after twenty years of the same lonely holiday, I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t want to sit in the quiet house by myself again, so I packed up some sandwiches and went to them. What I didn’t expect was to see them stepping out of a luxury car, arms linked with a boy who looked about my age, laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world, heading straight into a five-star hotel. “Mom, Dad, is it okay to leave Suzie all alone at home like that?” My mom waved it off and said, “It’s fine. She’s used to it.” My dad just brushed it off with a chuckle. “She’s nothing like you. You're our real treasure.” Upon hearing that, I turned and walked away. They'd been pretending to be broke all these years, lying to me about working overtime, about scraping by. Well, fine. If they don’t want me, I’m done wanting them, too.

We all love men who is obsessed to that one specific woman. But what if a woman is the one who is obsessed to a man? Will you simp for a bitch like her?

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My two childhood friends act like they don't see anything when their assistant locks me in a cold storage. They're filled with regret when I thoroughly vanish.

I wanted a start over, somewhere quiet. That is why I agreed to move to a new town with mom. The haunting memories were too much to handle. I felt like I couldn't breathe anymore. Entry into a new home should be rewarding, refreshing even. But is It? Why does it feel like I've run into a place that has me question every noise, people and even my own dreams? Something lurks in the deep parts of the forest, it's calling my name- a summon. 'It's You!' That's what I heard. But I never realised that my very own existence, was what GRIPPED the secrets of the moon.

I was running away. Away from an abusive husband…a family that didn’t care what he did to me. Friends who told me that I should be grateful. He has money, so I should just listen and live my life not working about being paycheck to paycheck like I had been. What I didn’t know was that with finding my way into a small town, I would catch the attention of a family. This family is different though…and I don’t know if I like their attention or not. But ever time I am with them I tend to do impulsive things.

My son has a high fever, so I call my husband. However, he thinks I'm using our child to get his attention. Then, he takes his true love's son to the hospital when he's only scratched his finger. I look at my son, whose face is pale. I ask, "Do you want another father?" He nods. "Yeah. Dad doesn't like me, so I don't want to like him anymore." Later, I find him another father. That's when my husband objects.

“I’ll keep you safe, Anya. Even if I have to lock you away.” * * Her brother kept her away from the Bratva’s bloody world. But the night he was killed, Anya Vasiliev was thrown into it. Straight into the arms of his best friend, Roman Sokolov. Now the new Pakhan, Roman swears she’s safest with him. But his protection feels like a prison… and his obsession, like chains tightening around her throat. He says he’ll burn Moscow to the ground for her. But will she ever escape the man who swore she’ll belong to him? No matter the cost?

By the second year of my marriage to Quentin Lambert, we had a son. Fast forward five years, and I was basically a human cookbook, agonizing over every pinch of salt like it was rocket science. One night, Quentin tossed out, "Too much salt." And our son? He didn't even blink—he dumped the whole pot down the drain right in front of me. That's when it hit me—pure exhaustion, like a tidal wave. I told Quentin I wanted a divorce. He didn't even bother looking up. "Is that really necessary?" I nodded, my voice flat. "It is."