Real Rich

My husband, Malcolm Thorpe, has low sperm motility. After 33 rounds of IVF, I finally got pregnant. On delivery day, I start hemorrhaging, and the medical team calls for an emergency C-section. Malcolm signs the consent form, then rushes straight back to his childhood sweetheart's birthday party. But instead of starting the C-section, the surgeon says, "Ms. Jacobson, the electronic medical record lists you as single. This consent form isn't valid." I stop breathing for a beat. The happy marriage I believe in turns out to be a sham. Later, Mom and Dad rush in and sign the consent for me. But by then, the baby is gone. The asphyxia lasted too long. After surgery, I scrawl my name on the cremation consent with shaking hands, then dial a number without thinking. "Samuel, are you free now? Meet me in front of City Hall."

Back when we were still in love, I heard from someone else that Charlie Grant had been getting unusually close to his secretary. He never offered an explanation. He let me dig for the truth on my own. Over the past five years, I quietly collected countless photos of them together—having lunch, leaving late-night meetings, even traveling for business—but none of them offered conclusive proof of cheating. Until the day he proposed to me. There was a giant screen set up. It was supposed to play a romantic video Charlie had prepared just for the proposal, but the screen suddenly cut to something else. A video of Charlie at a hospital, standing beside his secretary as she underwent a pregnancy check-up. In the video, the doctor clearly referred to Charlie as her husband… and the father of her child. His secretary burst into tears on the spot and apologized to me repeatedly. She sobbed as though she were the victim. Charlie, however, stood there with a cold expression and said flatly, "She's an unwed mother. She was helpless. I was just accompanying her for the checkup. The doctor must've misunderstood." Everyone braced for a dramatic scene. However, I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I only reached up and slowly removed the delicate flower hairpiece from my head. I set the hairpiece down. Then I looked Charlie in the eyes and spoke calmly. "You're right. It is sad that she’s pregnant and all alone. "This marriage proposal was meant for her. Not me." I gave a faint smile. "May you enjoy a blissful life. And… congratulations on the baby."

Akibat kecelakaan, Rosea kehilangan sebagian ingatannya dan bangkrut. Untungnya, dia memiliki teman baik yang mau mempekerjakannya. Bahkan, Rosea diajak untuk menghadiri pesta pertunangan salah satu konglomerat di Prancis! Hanya saja, wanita itu terkejut kala menemukan bahwa calon tunangan pria di pesta itu adalah Leonardo Abraham, sang mantan kekasih. Sejak saat itu, hidup Rosea pun berubah! Leonardo tampaknya menginginkan wanita itu kembali ke sisinya! Tak peduli apa pun caranya

I spent five years helping my boyfriend Marco rise to the position of Don. I nearly died countless times, but I didn't care; I loved him. He used to look at me tenderly and promised to propose to me publicly at his Don succession ceremony. But on that very day, he held the hand of another Mafia Principessa Sophia Romano and announced their engagement. To completely get rid of me, Sophia pulled a stack of photos from her bag and slammed them into my face. "See for yourself! She's been sleeping around to get intel!" In the picture, I was leaning into a man's arms. I tried to explain, but Marco interrupted me. "I always knew you were lowborn, but I didn't realize you were this cheap." "Get out!" Marco pointed at the door. "Elena, you are exiled from the family. Never let me see you again." I finally saw this man for who he truly was. He was completely subservient to me when he needed my help to seize territory, but after becoming the Godfather, he needed a more distinguished Donna, and therefore no longer needed me. I sneered; they had no idea that the man in the picture was my brother, the Don of the most powerful Corleone family. Sophia’s family was nothing compared to the Corleone family. I stopped arguing and simply turned and left. But when my true identity was finally exposed, he crawled back to me, weeping and begging for my forgiveness.

What's worse than being trapped in an elevator with your gorgeous, Rich boss? Being trapped with all three of them. Jack, Gavin, and Harrison aren't just my bosses; they're my brother's filthy rich best friends. After a steamy, unplanned hookup when the lights went out, I'm about to become much more than just the girl next door. There's Jack, whose touch drives me wild. Gavin, the cocky CEO whose dirty orders I can't wait to obey. And Harrison, the sweet, passionate one who pours his heart into everything... including me. I've waited years for these men to finally see me. Now, I belong to them. My body is theirs to devour, my bed is theirs to break. But giving them my heart is a terrifying risk, and I just pray they don't shatter it.

Marcus Webb didn't believe in ghosts. It was not until he woke up in Prometheus House with no memory of how he got there and met the devastatingly beautiful man who claims to be his roommate. Silas Ashford is perfect. Too perfect. He doesn't eat, doesn't sleep, and casts no reflection in mirrors. When Marcus discovers a photograph from 1924 showing Silas standing beside a man who looks exactly like him, the truth becomes impossible to deny. Silas is a ghost, bound to the facility for a hundred years, waiting for someone he can't remember. Marcus is a tech billionaire who died six months ago in a car accident, his body in a coma, his soul trapped in the between. They were lovers in a past life. Michael and Silas, 1924. They died in a fire trying to escape an abusive sanatorium. Michael survived long enough to reincarnate. Silas has been waiting ever since. Now, the facility's sinister director, a reaper who feeds on trapped souls will do anything to keep them apart. The building is collapsing, and time is running out. Marcus must choose: wake up and live, forgetting Silas forever, or stay and risk losing everything. To free Silas, Marcus will have to destroy the anchors binding him to this world, confront the creature born from their shared tragedy, and burn Prometheus House to the ground a second time. Some love stories survive death. He's not real, But he's mine, and I'll set the world on fire to keep him.

After a one night stand with a mysterious stranger. Evelyn Rosé, twenty five years old and mother of one, came back to her City to live a new life but under the fear of her son getting snatched away from her. She had a bad history with her family and her fiance but came back strong with the love of her son occupying her heart. But then she met her new cold Billionaire Boss who looked so much like her son and whom her son kept calling 'Daddy.' "Shush, don't call him that." "But he is my Daddy." Her son pouted. Raphael Theophilus the cold-hearted unbend Billionaire smiled at her son. He remembered Evelyn Rosé but she doesn't remember him.

Elena and Holden's story is told in the novel. Two people who are destined to spend their whole lives together aside their differences. Before they are husband and wife, they meet each other. They do not even manage to impress one someone because they're lost in their own worlds.

Anica Faith Mendez, a certified secret man-hater but a player during her teenage days, who believes that a man can cheat on his wife, a boyfriend can hook with other girls while winning the heart of his girl with sweet lines and a boy can always consider a girl as their toy. Waking up one day realizing that the world believed she's pregnant- a fake news that spread and caused her to seal the deal of making it real with... Caspian Alexander Arevalo- a certified secret playboy and a black sheep to his noble family's name. Upon knowing the man she seal deal with, it lights the fuse of her teenage days motto. "If he's a player, then I'll give him a game to remember." What if the playboy met someone who is secretly an expert on the field of 'playing hearts'. Will they be able to provide a family for their child? Or will they kept on playing on each other's heart.

The day before the semester began, my childhood friend Daniel Carter asked if he could borrow my private jet. Thinking he'd finally changed his ways, I agreed without a second thought. A moment later, he transferred a single dollar, calling it rent because he couldn't stand the thought of freeloading. The quirky amount said more than words ever could. I smiled and accepted it. On the first day of school, I kept things low-key, taking a cab back to campus. But when I arrived, there it was, my private jet parked right in the middle of the quad. The jet had been decked out in bubblegum pink, and students crowded around, their eyes shining with envy. My heart leapt. For once, I thought Daniel had finally figured it out. Beaming, I braced myself for his surprise. But as I drew closer, my smile froze. Sitting barefoot in the pilot's seat, my seat, was Clara West, the campus' queen bee.