Project Silence Sinopsis

For the eighteenth time, Samson brought home his new lover and enjoyed their intimacy right in front of me. Knowing he was doing this to get back at me, I just quietly picked up their scattered clothes. Five years ago, Samson was nearly killed in a kidnapping. Ignoring all his desperate pleas, I broke up with him and left the country. Five years later, he became the CEO of a major corporation and used his wealth to keep me at his side as his personal assistant. Every so often, he would bring home a different woman and flaunt their affection in front of me just to humiliate me. Samson never knew that I had saved him from those kidnappers five years ago—and that I was the one who couldn't let go of him. Things went on this way until he brought Judy back. My cousin, someone I had financially supported for years. When Judy proudly stroked her belly and told me she was pregnant with Samson’s baby, I just congratulated her calmly. Then, I turned and made a phone call. “Hello, about that Medical Support Project we discussed? I’ve decided—I’m ready to join.”

The night Araya was born, the Moon refused her. Marked as wolfless, mocked and forgotten, she grew up as prey in her own pack. Even her fated mate broke the bond with a smirk and left her bleeding at the border — for rogues to finish. But they forgot one thing: Ash remembers. And so does the throne buried beneath it. The forest did not devour her. It bowed. The flame did not die. It waited. Until, in the silence between heartbeats, something older than gods whispered: “She is not blessed. She is not chosen. She is the reckoning the moon tried to silence.” Now Araya walks again — no longer mortal, no longer meek. She is Hollow-Blood reborn, daughter of the fire that swallowed fate, heir to a throne no god dares name. And fate has bound her to Dorian—Azrien—the exiled god chained to shadow and ruin. He expected to crave nothing but vengeance. Until her. Araya is the mate his immortal soul demands, the salvation he denies, and the spark that could either set him free… or burn the world to ash. But enemies stir in silence. Adira, the Luna who would claim the Alpha prince at any cost, forges a pact with a creature older than gods, a monster chained in rot and darkness. The price she pays will rip fate itself open. Betrayals. Forbidden desire. Gods who bleed. Wolves who kneel. And at the heart of it, one truth no prophecy can silence: The gods will end. She will not. And the last prophecy carved into stone whispers: “The Flame That Walks Returns. Let the gods burn first.”

On my birthday, my fiancé used his supermarket points to get me a pair of dishwashing gloves. But at an auction, he bought a five-million-dollar gem for his first love. I was mad, confronting him, but he called me a gold digger. "I've been giving you money to spend. Isn't it only right that you take care of me? This was supposed to be my final test for you. If you passed, we'd get married. You've let me down big time." I broke up with him. He turned around and proposed to his first love. Five years later, we ran into each other on a private vacation island. Alex Thompson saw me in the workers' uniform picking up trash on the beach. He mocked me on the spot. "You turned your nose up at the gloves I got you, and here you are, scavenging garbage. Now, even if you begged me, I wouldn't give you a second glance." I ignored him. My son's social studies project was to clean up the backyard with a parent. His dad had expanded the yard all the way to the beach. Cleaning it up was exhausting.

My CEO wife insists on taking a young, fresh intern under her wing. She wants to train him personally. She says to me, "Don't overthink this. I just value his potential." She's always been stern and stoic, but she starts dressing in pink and pulling her hair back in high ponytails. On our third wedding anniversary, she and the intern even willfully disappear for 48 hours. When others are searching for her like mad, she shares photos of her riding a carousel and holding cotton candy. She captions them, "I found the purest of joys in the most joyful of places—all because of you!" Our company loses a huge project because of this, and I lose my wife. I slip a divorce agreement between the pages of the intern's application to become a permanent staff member. My wife signs it without even looking and says, "Knowing what Elliot can do, he's more than capable of carrying out the role of a vice president." I calmly hand her my resignation. "You're right. That's why I'll make way for him."

A centuries old tale of a woman who grants wishes to lonely souls haunts the mind of the new generation. Charlie Peddington is a broke, aspiring writer who wishes to write and publish her very first novel that would blow the minds of every reader she could imagine. She spends her time struggling in between master classes and in being a ghost writer to any student needing her service. As part of her final project, she's tasked to write the most out of this world story she could ever come up, with the possibility of being introduced to a well-known publisher courtesy of her mentor. But how does she make her story excel amongst the new generation of creators? Until an unfortunate event brought her to the life of a mysterious woman who rescued her one night. Her curiosity got the best of her, that when she learned of her identity, she realizes she could no longer turn her back against the things that she is about to discover. How will she fare against a half jinni, half witch who has lived for hundreds of centuries filled with the most out of this world stories she can ever imagine?

She was sold by her own father and forced into a loveless marriage with the most feared mafia boss. Trapped in a world of power, violence, and silence, she has no choices—and no way out. Until she realizes the most dangerous temptation in that house isn’t her husband… It’s his son. Cold. Protective. Forbidden. He watches her from the shadows, guards her with quiet devotion, and desires her in secret. When escape becomes their only chance at freedom, they are hunted without mercy. Because in the mafia, a woman is property. And betrayal is always paid for in blood.

Loving Jess was like navigating a labyrinth with no clear path. Every moment with Jess was a blend of joy and heartache, moments of pure bliss interspersed with uncertainty and longing. Her laughter was a melody that lifted spirits, yet her silence could be a chasm that swallowed hope. Loving her required patience, resilience, and an unwavering belief in the beauty of the journey, despite the challenges. Each day brought new opportunities to understand her a little better, to connect on a deeper level, and to cherish the unique bond they shared. It was a struggle, yes, but one filled with moments so precious that they made every effort worthwhile.

Pledged by birth to ancient obligations he barely understands, the unnamed heir grapples with a destiny that demands secrecy and sacrifice. Cloaked in shadows within his ancestral keep, he learns to read arcane symbols whispered through generations. When political machinations from the gilded twilight city threaten to expose his lineage—and his potential—he must navigate deception and hidden loyalties to claim what is rightfully his. Guided by a devoted guardian, and haunted by the weight of prophecy, he must choose whether to embrace the power he fears or shatter the silence that has long protected him.

Isabella Ferrera becomes a substitute bride on her own wedding day when the woman her groom loves runs away. Married to billionaire Matteo Conti, she spends five years living as a ghost—unloved, ignored, and blamed for a betrayal she never committed. While Matteo clings to his first love, Isabella endures his cruelty in silence, until she finally leaves without a word. Only then does Matteo uncover the truth behind the runaway bride—and realize too late that the woman he pushed away was the one who truly stayed. Regret is all he has left.

By the third year of my mate bond with Caesar, the reigning Alpha, the she-wolf who had once abandoned him returned. For the thousand-and-first time, I launched into my well-rehearsed performance—the devoted, desperate mate. "Do you still love me?" I asked. And for the thousand-and-first time, Caesar turned away without a word, his silence a colder rejection than any shout. On the surface, I was the picture of heartbreak. Behind closed doors, I went straight to Caesar's uncle to collect a hefty payment for my performance. "Three years of this acting," I said. "Can I leave now?"