Sassy Flower

My husband died in a fire trying to save me, leaving behind a mountain of debt and a newborn child. I worked hard to pay off the debt while raising the child, only to unintentionally discover that my husband hadn’t died at all. Instead, he was sleeping with my cousin. “Honey, you’re so clever. You transferred all the company funds and faked your death, leaving that stupid wife of yours to shoulder all the debt. “She’s so clueless that she doesn’t even realize the son she’s raising isn’t hers, that I swapped him out. Once she’s done paying off the debts, the three of us can live a great life together.” I silently sneered, pretending I knew nothing, and continued to raise the child. Twenty years later, my son returned home after studying abroad. The company went public in New York. On the day of the IPO, my cousin appeared arm in arm with my husband, holding a paternity test. “Claire, your husband never died. We’ve been together all these years. Alex is my son. Now that you’ve been his mother for so long, isn’t it time to return him to me?” My husband also presented a divorce agreement. “I built this company from scratch. It’s premarital property. Sign the divorce papers, walk away with nothing, and you can leave now.” I smiled and told him, “I’ve prepared a special gift for you too. I wonder if you’ll like it."

Airin, faced with an unexpected pregnancy from a brief en counter with a man named Zidan, navigates the challenges of single motherhood when Zidan disappears upon learnin g about the pregnancy. Determined, Airin decides to raise her child alone while co ntinuing her studies. Despite facing judgment and pressur e at her university for bringing the baby to classes, Fachri, a young lecturer, consistently supports her and even helps care for the baby during lectures. Over time, their bond deepens, and Airin sees Fachri as a w arm and caring figure. Likewise, Fachri admires Airin's intel ligence and independence. As Airin contemplates choosing Fachri as the father figure for her child, Zidan unexpectedly reappears in her life. No w, Airin faces the difficult decision of choosing between Fa chri, who has been a constant support, and Zidan, the biolo gical father of her child.

Three years ago, on the day I married Luca Moretti, he personally handed me a marriage contract with a fixed term of three years. His tone was casual, indifferent, as if he were discussing an ordinary business deal. "This marriage exists solely to serve the alliance of interests between the Morettis and the Vitales. Sign this agreement. After three years, the marriage will automatically dissolve. When that time comes, you can go and pursue your true love." I barely hesitated before signing. Ten years earlier, at an inter-family business gala, when I was ten and Luca was sixteen, I had already fallen hopelessly in love with him. What looked like a strategic alliance was, in truth, the outcome of my decade-long unrequited love. During the three years of our marriage, Luca was attentive and gentle toward me. Over time, I began to believe I was loved. I sank into that illusion, unable to pull myself out, forgetting entirely about the agreement. That illusion was shattered completely on the night of our third wedding anniversary. That evening, Luca arrived with Elena, who had just returned to New York, and attended what was supposed to be our third anniversary celebration together. She stood beside him with ease and composure, smoothly engaging with business partners. People praised her, saying she looked more like the Donna of the Moretti family. In that moment, even though Luca never mentioned the agreement again, I understood clearly that it was time for me to step aside. After breaking free from his control, crossing an ocean to rebuild myself, and becoming a brilliant leader in my industry, I would no longer wait for his love.

Guy Marchand, PDG charismatique et redouté, règne sans partage sur un empire de parfums luxueux. Cette façade impeccable dissimule l'empire souterrain d'un réseau mafieux impitoyable qu'il dirige d'une main de fer, naviguant entre transactions troubles et alliances criminelles. Elara Vance, jeune femme au tempérament de feu dissimulé sous des apparences discrètes, officie comme serveuse dans le prestigieux restaurant Le Velours Pourpre. L'établissement appartient à Marius Croft, ami d'enfance et bras droit indéfectible de Guy Marchand. Leurs destins auraient dû rester parallèles, séparés par l'abîme qui distingue le jour de la nuit. Mais un après-midi, dans l'atmosphère feutrée du restaurant, leurs regards se croisent. Un échange silencieux de quelques secondes à peine... une étincelle qui mit le feu aux poudres. Entre eux, l'attraction est foudroyante, un vertige immédiat et réciproque. Pourtant, leurs mondes sont séparés par des murs infranchissables de secrets, de mensonges et de sang. Chaque pas qu'ils font l'un vers l'autre les rapproche du précipice. Dans ce jeu dangereux, ils risquent aussi bien de tout perdre leur vie, leur liberté que de tout gagner : l'amour qui pourrait soit les sauver, soit les achever.

Robert, jeune homme exemplaire prisonnier des attentes familiales, dissimule depuis toujours un secret qu'il n'ose révéler. Sa vie parfaitement orchestrée bascule le jour où il croise William, un musicien de rue rebelle et magnétiquement libre, qui chante au coin d'une rue. Malgré leurs univers diamétralement opposés l'un discipliné et conformiste, l'autre sauvage et insouciant une connexion profonde naît entre eux. Ce qui commence comme une rencontre fortuite se transforme rapidement en une attirance irrésistible. Mais leur amour émergent devra affronter de multiples épreuves : le poids écrasant des conventions familiales de Robert, sa peur de décevoir et de perdre tout ce qu'il a construit, ainsi que les blessures cachées de William qui doute de sa propre valeur. Entre authenticité et conformité, passion et raison, ces deux âmes contraires devront choisir entre la sécurité du mensonge et le courage de vivre leur vérité.

Anathea Jacobson has had a crush on Gregory Sinclair for ten years. She thinks marrying him is a dream come true. Even if he's just a block of ice now, she'll surely be able to melt him over time. However, all she ever gets is his ice-cold treatment. He's gentle and tender to his true love, but he scorns and neglects her. He also mistreats and humiliates her… Anathea endures it all because they have a son. For his sake, she's willing to cling to her title of Mrs. Sinclair and cage herself in this loveless marriage for the rest of her life. This changes when she's abducted. Gregory spends the night with his true love, and even her beloved son abandons her—he wants to have Gregory's true love as his mother! That's when Anathea sees sense. Her husband will never love her, and her son will never appreciate her. If that's the case, she doesn't want them anymore. She wants to live for herself! … After the divorce, Anathea picks up floral art again. She sets up a company, makes big money, and wins various awards. She wants to give herself all the love she deserves so that she'll go back to being the lively, vivacious woman she once was. Gregory panics when he sees the men surrounding her and vying for her affections. He falls to his knees before her, his eyes rimmed with red as he pleads, "I love you, Nat. Please don't leave me." Anathea sneers. "Your love is too little, too late, Mr. Sinclair." Her son clings to her legs and wails. "Don't abandon me, Mom!" She pushes him away impassively. "Don't call me that. I'm not your mother."

I loved Adriano Ferraro—yeah, that Don—for five freaking years. He wasn't just my fiancé; he was my anchor in a world where loyalty got tested, and weakness got you killed. We had it all mapped out—dreams, plans, a future we actually thought we owned. Until I lost our baby. I reached for him, shaking, desperate for anything. But comfort never came. Instead, it was her. His stepsister, propped up. "Don't buy her act. She's just fishing for attention—again." That snake smiled like she just won a prize for emotional torture, dripping venom while fanning the flames. And Adriano? He bought it. He turned away. In that moment, it hit me—I wasn't just grieving. I was completely alone. The kid I carried, the future I built in my head? Gone. And so was I. I walked out. On him. On the Ferraro Family I was stupid enough to think I could belong to. All I left behind was silence. Empty space where we used to be. Now Adriano's drowning in regret, but it's too damn late. The life we should've had, the love we should've built? Dust. And her? The stepsister who ruined it all? She's paying for every lie.

It was the third anniversary of my registration of a mate bond with Xavier Ashford, the alpha of Shadowcrest Pack. My gift to him was a positive pregnancy test, but his gift to me was a contract terminating our bond as mates. I froze, too distraught to reach out and take it from him. Xavier cleared his throat awkwardly. "A wolf tricked Talia into getting pregnant. A pup born out of mate bond can't get the rights to live in the pack. My plan is to terminate our bond as mates and become mates with Talia for the time being so that her pup can have a legal identity. After she gives birth to her pup, then you and I can become mates again. How does that sound?" He passed me a bond termination contract. It had clearly been prepared a long time ago. He noticed my hesitation and explained gently, "You're my one true love. I'm only helping her as a friend. Even after we split up, I can guarantee that you won't be mistreated." I looked up at him with a smile and stayed silent. Then, I reached into my pocket and felt the pregnancy test under my fingers. The two red lines on the screen were as clear as day.

"Mom, please stop searching for a lover. I don't want Fathe r's condition to deteriorate further due to your behavior. Ot herwise, I will destroy any relationship you have with any m an!" Chelsea admonished, giving a warning. She had lost c ount of how many warnings she had given, given the nume rous men her mother had approached for money, despite h er father's serious illness. "It's up to you, do whatever you want. I don't care anymore because I can't bear to live in poverty," the mother replied c almly, indifferent to Chelsea's feelings. "Fine, if that's what you want. I swear I will marry one of yo ur most meaningful lovers!" Chelsea promised her mother when the pain had taken over her.

My birthday present this year is a written contract titled 'Behavioral Reform Contract'. My fiance, who was the mafia head Matteo Giovanni, and my parents have already signed their names at the bottom. Together, they had me sent to the Behavioral Correction Center. … The windows are always shut, and the sunlight is filtered through the metal window bars. They drug, reprimand, and ostracize me to make me shove my feelings of aggrievement down. Even while I am being humiliated and punished, they teach me to force a smile and maintain a steady breath. It was all done in the name of "treating" me. A year passes, and I go from being a so-called "troublemaker" to their ideal version of me—quiet, elegant, and utterly perfect. Matteo beams at me and says, "You've finally become my perfect wife. We can finally marry." I match his smile, a gesture that they think means obedience from my part. However, it is not true. It is just me bidding my farewell before I leave for good. There's something I don't understand, however. They constantly found me lacking, so now that I am gone from their lives, why are they falling apart?