Miss Poem For Him

When I had only three months left to live after taking the cursed blade meant for my husband Lucian, his first love Lily returned. When I endured the pain and prepared a dinner to commemorate our anniversary, he did not come back, he was having a steamy car session with Lily. When I went to the hospital alone to buy medicine, he was accompanying Lili for her pregnancy check-up. I pretended not to have noticed, I just silently played the role of a perfect wife, and wrote him four letters as a gift for our anniversary. After I die, he saw the gifts I left behind and went completely insane.

My boy friend Caleb Ford's childhood sweetheart, Julia Leclair, is losing her hair from chemotherapy. So, he orders me to cut mine off and make her a wig. "Julia's allergic to synthetic wigs. You've been growing your hair for ten years—it's perfect." I refuse, but his friends tie me down. Someone shaves my head to the scalp, buzzing through my thick, glossy hair until nothing's left but a butchered mess. Julia sits in her wheelchair and laughs, saying I look like a toad. Caleb smiles and nods in agreement. He adds with a chuckle, "It's just some hair. Was that really necessary?" But back when I was bullied for having uneven, choppy short hair for six straight years, it was he who stood in front of me. He had his arms spread wide as he shielded me from harm. Now he's the one wielding the blade. One by one, their little circle chimes in. They tell me not to hold a grudge against someone who's sick. Caleb snaps impatiently, "Stop trying to talk sense into her. She can get lost! Did you see that fit she threw over a few strands of hair? It's not like they won't grow back." I turn around and walk away. I never look back. Later, I hear that Caleb begs for my forgiveness by kneeling his way up 9000 steps until his knees are ruined.

On the night of our seventh anniversary, I was pulled into an emergency C-section. Before I could scrub in, my director caught my arm. “Gianna, the woman on that table is under the protection of a man powerful enough to ruin this hospital by morning. Do not make a mistake.” I glanced at the patient chart and frowned. Men in our world including Enzo were all obsessed with their wives. How could a man like that possibly have another woman he cherished? The surgery went well. Clean incision. Clean closure. No complications. I had barely exhaled in relief when a swarm of men in black dragged me to my knees outside the recovery room and forced me to my knees outside a private recovery suite.

The day I land a hundred-million-dollar deal for the company, my girlfriend—Paisley Needham, the CEO—finally agrees to marry me. The next day, I wait at the city hall until it closes. She never shows up. Instead, what I get is her official announcement with her assistant, Jude Grayford. In the photo, she nestles in his arms. A crisp marriage license sits in her hand, impossible to miss. The caption reads, "My CEO, Ms. Paisley Needham, couldn't bear to see me going on blind dates, so she just went ahead and got the marriage license with me today. I'm so happy!" My colleagues gossip, assuming I'll be jealous and furious. I don't. I just like the post and comment, "So, when's the ceremony? Don't forget to invite me!" Paisley calls immediately, cursing me out. "I just didn't want to see him being pressured into blind dates by his parents, so I agreed to get married on paper to keep them off his back. It's not like we're actually married. Do you really have to be so petty? "Delete your comment right now and get on your knees to apologize to Jude. If you don't, I'll never marry you." I laughed bitterly. "Even better," I say. "I hope you two have a long, happy life together… and have lots of kids."

At my engagement banquet, a student sponsored by my fiancé sneaked drugs into a wine glass. To save my meticulously planned event, I quietly had a servant replace the glass. But then, the student and a notorious playboy had a scandalous encounter. A video leaked. Her reputation was ruined, and she jumped to her death. Then my refined fiancé forced me to kneel at her grave and tortured me to death with drugs. Only then did I learn she was his lifelong love. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the engagement banquet.

From a campus romance to marriage, Dominic Fleming had always believed he led a perfect life. His wife, Isabella Sinclair, was dazzlingly beautiful. Their daughter, Lilith, was sweet and obedient. Dominic sometimes told himself he must have been a saint in a past life to deserve such happiness. Everything began to change the moment Isabella's so-called "sworn brother," Alexander Grant, entered their lives. Alex's name appeared more and more often, and it crept into every corner of their marriage. For Lilith's sake, Dominic endured the strain again and again until the day of the accident. As he lay on the operating table with his life hanging by a thread, Isabella was not at his side—she was with Alexander instead. That was the moment Dominic's heart finally turned cold. So why did Isabella regret it? She knelt with Alexander, who likewise barely clung to life, and wept as she begged Dominic for forgiveness. "Dom, I know I was wrong. Let's get married again. I will make him kneel and beg you for forgiveness," Isabella said. "Scram," Dominic replied. Isabella nodded eagerly. "Fine. I will throw him out right now!" "Get the fuck out too!" Dominic barked.

Giorgo Romero, the Don of the Romero family, gets ambushed by a suicidal madman who has bombs strapped to him. When that happens, my husband, Fabio Lopez, and his troops have already gone to a fashion show with his childhood sweetheart, Reina Digiorno, so that they can protect her there. Instead of pressing the signal button on my ring, I launch myself at Giorgo despite being heavily pregnant. Just like that, I'm able to protect him from the explosion with my body. In my previous life, I had pressed the button. Fabio had ditched Reina in favor of hurrying back to the scene to save Giorgo's life. Because of his contribution, he gets elevated to the position of Underboss. But Reina got mad at Fabio for leaving her in advance, resulting in her crossing the highway out of pure spite. That was how she got hit by a car and died. While Fabio didn't say anything, he chose to send me to an underground auction house on the day I went into labor. "The Don had so many soldati protecting him! Why did you force me to come back in the first place? Isn't it because you just want the glory of being the Underboss's wife? "If it wasn't for you, Reina wouldn't have died! You must go through a thousand times the suffering she did!" I could only watch as the guests bid for my organs one by one. Not even my newborn's umbilical cord could be spared from the auction. In the end, I died from an infection that had occurred while my organs were being removed. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Giorgo gets ambushed.

The night my family’s rival gang stormed the mafia ball, I was taken as leverage. My boyfriend, Nolan, and my closest friend, Riven, stood only steps away. But they chose to shield my cousin, Anna, instead. I was being saved by a secret man hours later—bruised, shaken, and already forgotten. No one asked what had been done to me. Nolan only said, “Anna was scared. She needed us more.” Days later, Anna invited me to her birthday party. I went out of courtesy—only to watch her cast me as the villain of her story. Nolan and Luca stood by her, protecting her again. That night, I said yes to the marriage alliance my family had prepared years ago. When I left the city, Nolan finally texted—angry, wounded, offended. “You’re really leaving?" I replied with just one line. “You’re more than welcome to my wedding.”

My dad died in a car crash. On the seventh day after his death, I hear him whisper in my ear, "Amara, save your brother. There are cracks in the old stone bridge at the village entrance... It will collapse... He will die." I immediately call my brother, Asher Langford, and he takes a different route out of the village. But that afternoon, the police report that a murder took place on that road. The victim is Asher. My sister-in-law, Delia Winslow, and I bury him in tears. On the seventh day after my brother's death, I hear my dad's voice again. "Amara, keep an eye on Jasper. Don't go to the back of the hill. The dead trees there attract lightning... There will be a thunderstorm in three days." That night, Delia locks my nephew, Jasper Langford, inside the house. But three days later, Jasper falls from a window on the 12th floor. Delia goes insane after losing her husband and son consecutively in such a short time. Holding back my grief, I leave my own son, Billy Calloway, with my husband, Felix Calloway, and help Delia lay Jasper to rest. On the seventh day after Jasper's death, I see my dad holding Billy's hand and looking back at me with a sorrowful expression. He says, "Amara... There are spirits looking for substitutes in the reed marsh in the village. Take care of Billy. Don't go..."

Celeste Vane was twenty-four when Diana Hale dismantled her family’s company with a legal maneuver so precise it left no trace of wrongdoing — only ruin. Four years later, Celeste returns. She walks into Hale Group as a junior financial analyst, unseen and underestimated. But she has already spent years quietly acquiring fragments of the very system that destroyed her family. Every step inside the company brings her closer to reclaiming what was taken. And closer to Marcus Hale. Marcus is nothing like what she expected. Controlled, perceptive, and infuriatingly fair, he is the one man who sees the real structure of her mind — and the one person she cannot afford to be seen by for too long. Celeste is not there to survive Hale Group. She is there to dismantle it from within. But the longer she stays, the more the lines blur. Marcus begins to trust her. And against every rule she has lived by, she begins to trust him back. Then there is Diana Hale — watching Celeste’s rise with quiet precision, as though she has been expecting her return all along. As buried financial truths surface and old alliances fracture, Celeste faces a choice she never designed for: the revenge she built her entire life around, or the man who makes her question whether the woman she became in pursuit of it is someone worth keeping. When Diana finally moves, Celeste will have to decide what reclamation actually means — because what she built in the wreckage may be worth more than anything taken from her.