Nct U Up And Down

With mixed feelings, Jillian Moore goes to the casting of the new season of "The Super Model" to investigate the case of a missing girl behind the scenes. Before she knows it, she stumbles into a turbulent whirlpool of glamour, ambition and shady dealings. When, to make matters worse, she falls in love and has to shimmy from one lie to the next, her life seems to come completely apart at the seams ...

My best friend, Sophia Lisciotti, is brutally murdered at the docks, and I cover up for the real killer. The Don of the Sollazzo family interrogates me, and the Sollazzos hunt me down. Nevertheless, I guard the secret. I would rather die than speak. Ten years later, my former best friend, Valeria Sollazzo, rises to become the Principessa of the Sollazzo family, wielding absolute power. She chains me to the tribunal platform and places a memory extractor over my head. "Lina, you let the murderer walk free for ten years. Today, I'll drag out the secret you've spent your whole life hiding." But when the screen projects the murderer's face, the ruthless Principessa goes deathly pale.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I found another woman’s lace thong in my bedroom. My husband, Mark Donovan, stood in front of the closet and said coldly, “She’s just a kid, Leslie. Don’t make this ugly.” That “kid” was pregnant with his child. That “kid” had already moved into my home, worn his shirts, slept in my bed, and made him cut down the magnolia tree my dead parents planted for me. Everyone in the Donovan family thought I would scream, cry, and beg. After all, I had loved Mark for nine years. But this time, I only picked up my suitcase. Because they didn’t know one thing. The divorce had already been filed. The Donovan wife’s emerald brooch had already been returned. And the evidence against his precious little mistress had already been delivered to the old Don. Mark thought I was walking out of his mansion. He didn’t know I was walking out of his life. Forever.

Four days after my death, my four-year-old daughter finally sensed that something was terribly wrong. The fridge door slammed into her forehead when she tried to get a snack. Normally, I would've been there in a heartbeat—arms open, kisses ready, whispering, "You're okay, sweetheart, Mommy's here." But this time, I just lay on the bed, cold and still.​ She didn't understand. She thought the sweet treat would make me respond. So she held the final piece of chocolate up to my mouth. "Here, Mommy. Have some chocolate..." But I didn't even blink. She climbed into my arms, clutching my clothes tightly. "Mommy... Mommy, wake up..." She waited for me to stroke her hair, to tell her that everything was going to be fine. There was only silence.​ Completely lost and scared, she found my phone. "Daddy, why is Mommy still sleeping?" she asked, her voice filled with desperation.​ In response, Oliver sent a photo of himself having Christmas Eve dinner with his childhood sweetheart. His voice was icy cold when he replied, "She's just sleeping, not dead. It's Christmas Eve, and I'm busy. Tell her to stop playing games and come apologize when she's done sulking." Then he hung up.​ But when the truth finally hit Oliver—when the coroner's report came, when the police knocked on his door right in the middle of his laughter, when he realized I'd been lying dead for four days while he toasted—he broke.

"He was supposed to be cannon fodder. Now he’s the CEO’s obsession.” Sky Templeton thought dying broke was the worst fate. That was until he opened his eyes in the body of a doomed secretary inside a cheesy romance novel he once rage-dropped. The role? Cannon fodder, destined to be crushed under the heel of the cold and ruthless billionaire CEO, Dream Lancaster. But life gives Gloss no time to despair. A mischievous system binds to him with cruel missions: survive 100 days, raise the CEO’s affection score from -1000 to +1000, and…most terrifying of all, rewrite his tragic ending. Gloss only wanted to survive. He never expected to become entangled in office politics, fake dating contracts, or the dangerous pull of a man who despised him. Yet, with every mission cleared, Dream’s icy mask begins to crack, revealing scars and loneliness Gloss never thought a ruthless CEO could carry. Was this just the system’s game, or had fate rewritten both their stories?

Even after being married for three years, my husband treats me like a stranger. When I throw up blood from pregnancy complications, he's in the prayer room chanting for his foster sister, Yvie Springton. He accuses me of being dramatic. If Yvie so much as gets a headache, he drops everything and flies overseas to be by her side. When his parents are in critical condition after a car crash, I beg him to go see them one last time. But what does he do? He claims I'm cursing Yvie. When I go into early labor and cling to life after giving birth to our son, he posts a photo of his international boarding pass on social media. At his parents' funeral, he returns to the country with Yvie and demands I leave the marriage with nothing. The day our divorce finalizes, he holds a wedding ceremony with her. I bury his parents alone. Then, at an exclusive auction, dead set on winning the famous painting for Yvie, he offered a staggering price. Even his accounts are frozen. That's when he finally realizes he's been disowned by the Springton family. His eyes are bloodshot, and he's furious as he demands answers. I simply gesture for my lawyer to step forward. He says, "Mr. Springton, take a look at this will."

Extract Alpha Dominic’s gaze cut through me like ice. “I don’t know you,” he spat, his voice filled with disgust. “How dare you show up out of nowhere, claiming to be my mate, claiming to carry my child, when I have never laid eyes on you before?” “Um, I—” I opened my mouth to explain, to tell him everything, but he cut me off. “Are you here for money? Is that it?” Without waiting for an answer, he reached into his car and pulled out a bundle of cash, flinging it at my feet. “I don’t want to see your filthy face again. I won’t waste my energy rejecting you. We will never be together. The moon goddess must have been mistaken to think a lowlife like you could be my mate.” The money lay scattered on the ground as hot tears blurred my vision. “I’m not lying,” I sobbed. “I am carrying your child.” Wolfless and satisfied, all Odette ever wanted was to be promoted and to become a full-time teacher. But her world came crumbling down when her boss made sexual advances at her, saying it was the only way for her to keep her job. Brokenhearted, she ran from the school, and instead of going home to her family, she went to a hotel, got drunk, ended up in the bed of a stranger, and got pregnant afterwards. She was sent out of the house by her mother until she aborted the baby. Will she abort the baby? Or find the father of her child?

I let Gideon mark me again. Then, I put my Alpha mate up for rent. The fragile widow of his dead Beta, Civian, always found excuses to drag him out of our bed. I stopped crying over the possessive pull of our Mate bond. Instead, I just charged her by the hour. 100,000 an hour during the day. 200,000 at night. Triple on full moons. In just three months, my offshore account grew by nearly twenty million. He had promised to take me to the werewolf auction to buy some rare herbs. But that woman called, crying that her wolf was out of control and desperately needed soothing. I didn't even blink. I just pulled out my phone and started the timer. Midnight. Burning up with fever from the pills I took to suppress my heat, he was driving me to the Pack hospital. That woman called again, shaking because she had a nightmare about Civian’s bloody death. I calmly signaled him to pull over and drop me at the next intersection. Seeing the flicker of struggle in his eyes, I just smiled lazily. "Just don't forget to pay." Then came the day of our daughter Mia’s checkup at The Pack's Gene-Therapy Center. The woman called again. "Toby's first shift is coming up. He really needs a strong Alpha to guide him through this dangerous time..." Gideon hung up the phone. He turned, guilt flashing in his eyes, and started to kneel before our daughter to explain. But Mia just held out her little hand, copying me exactly. "It's okay, Daddy. Just pay up. It's a full moon today, so that’s triple."

To Willa Fowler, I'm not her husband, but rather, a non-performing asset that awaits her handling. When I fall sick and ask her for help, she grows impatient with me. "This is a low-tier problem that you should be dealing with on your own. There's no need to report to me about it." When I burst into tears from an emotional breakdown, she berates me, "If you lose control of your emotions, you'll just show everyone else the vulnerability in our alliance. Next time, I'll have the PR team teach you how to manage your emotions." Even when I call her for help after getting into a car crash, she doesn't hesitate to hang up on me. "Everything concerning you isn't important enough for me to suspend the hundred-billion-dollar transaction I'm performing right now." I spend seven days in the ICU getting my life saved afterward. On the first day of getting home, I witness Willa bending down to gently coax another young man into taking his medication. She opens her mouth in an attempt to explain the situation to me. But I just chuckle bitterly before handing over the paperwork I've already prepared in advance to her. This time, I sound exactly like her. "Ms. Fowler, regarding our marriage project, after a comprehension evaluation, the return on the investment is deemed too low. Therefore, I'd like to officially propose a termination on this project. "This is the divorce agreement. Please leave your signature here."

During the seventh year of my relationship with Oscar Ramsay, he goes back to his home country to inherit the position of heir to the Ramsay family from his younger brother, Oliver Ramsay, who passed away. He also accepts Oliver's widow, Evie Griffin, into the family. Every time after he sleeps with her, he will get down on his knees before me and beg me for forgiveness. "I'm sorry, Aurora. You're the only person I love, but none of this is of my own accord. I'll only be able to publicly announce our relationship after I successfully give Evie a baby to be the next family heir. "I'll be taking over the company by then, too, and give you a better life in the future." He even tells me resentfully that his father, Uriah Ramsay, had told him of his dying wish that Evie give birth to a baby boy. Over the next year, Oscar sleeps with Evie 200 times. It went from a few times a month to a few times a week. Eventually, Oscar just sleeps in her room every single night. After I lose sleep for 200 nights, Evie finally gets pregnant. The next day, Oscar and Evie get married at a very expensive and elaborate wedding at a church. Ingrid Ramsay, my daughter, gets upset when she sees Oscar and Evie kissing on the screen. "Mommy, why is Daddy getting married to someone else? You're his wife!" I cover Ingrid's eyes and smile bitterly. "Because Daddy doesn't love Mommy." Oscar doesn't know this, but I have never cared that other people didn't know about my real identity. I also don't care about his money or wealth. I only care whether or not he loves me. I'm no longer willing to face a man who cheats on me. Instead, I bring Ingrid with me as we leave him forever.