The Teamwork Makes The Dream Work

Lisa Moon never imagined that a wax-sealed envelope from her high school best friend—who just happens to be a prince—would turn her quiet blogging life upside down. But when she’s invited to the glittering kingdom of Veloria for a month of garden parties and royal indulgence, she packs her doubts and flies across the world in search of magic. She expects champagne. She doesn’t expect Cassian Velarion—the prince’s mysterious and devastatingly handsome uncle, who she accidentally walked in on wrapped in nothing but a towel at an airport spa. What begins as awkward tension quickly ignites into something far more dangerous—desire, secrets, and the kind of chemistry that makes rules irrelevant. But not everyone wants to see Lisa and Cassian together. Victoria Beyers, a cold and calculating noblewoman, will do anything to drive them apart. Jonah, Lisa’s high school ex, isn’t ready to let go. And as the truth about Cassian’s past unravels, Lisa must choose between the life she thought she knew and the love she never expected. In a world of royalty, revenge, and red roses, A Girl Can Only Dream is a dazzling modern fairytale about forbidden romance, second chances, and finding your place in someone else’s palace.

On my wedding day, my fiancée's adopted younger brother, Jason Sanders, suddenly stood up to toast us as we were exchanging rings. "The first toast is for my sister. She gave herself to me last night so that I wouldn't feel insecure, making me her first man." After he said that, he kissed my fiancée, ignoring the strange looks from everyone. "The second toast is for my brother-in-law. Don't be fooled by my sister's usual aloof demeanor around you; she's actually very passionate in bed. Even though you're impotent, you've still struck gold." My fiancée, Wendy Sanders, covered his mouth in a hurry and tried to laugh it off. "He’s just rambling because he's drunk. Just ignore him." But Jason broke free from Wendy and looked at me challengingly. "The third toast is for everyone. Since Wendy is getting married today, I would like to personally put the ring on her finger. I'm sure no one has any objections, right?"

Angela Bailey spent six years believing her marriage was built on love, only to discover her devoted husband was nothing more than a polished illusion. When she filed for divorce and asked her daughter to leave with her, the little girl clung to another woman’s hand and called her “Mom.” Donald Turner, cold and entitled, told her, “As long as you apologize to Nina, you can still live your high-society life.” Angela scoffed. “You might not even stay in high society yourself.” She walked out of the Turner household with nothing, determined to rebuild her life from the ground up. With her own talent and grit, she joined a new company and went head-to-head with her ex. Just when Donald realized his mistake and wanted her back, another man stepped into Angela’s life—someone who protected her openly, supported her quietly, and cherished her without hesitation. Donald regretted everything and wanted her back. He appeared with their daughter, eyes red as he pleaded, “I’ll give you the entire Turner family. Please love me and our daughter again.” The man beside Angela laughed. “The Turner family? That means nothing. Angela doesn’t need it. And as for a daughter…” He looked at Angela, and together they said, “We already have one.”

On their third wedding anniversary, Maisie Bardot expectantly announces her pregnancy to her husband, Andrew Clarke. All she receives in return is a check for a billion dollars, a divorce agreement, and an order to get an abortion.To protect her pregnancy, Maisie flees.Five years later, she returns as a miracle doctor with two adorable children in tow. Countless admirers flock to her side.Andrew regrets divorcing Maisie. He'll do whatever it takes to win her and the children back again.Yes, whatever it takes.

I'd been married to Joshua Merck for five years, but we still didn't have kids. To stay healthy, I took those pricey custom vitamins he ordered from overseas—never missed a dose. Then my cousin came back from studying abroad, took one look at the bottle, and was like, "That brand doesn't even make custom vitamins." I sent them to the hospital for testing. The lab report hit me like a truck—birth control pills. Powerful ones. Suddenly, all those mornings with Joshua hovering over me, acting so concerned while I took my "vitamins," made sense. The whole thing had been a lie. Five years of lies. Just as I was gearing up to confront him, my phone buzzed—a group chat notification. Shirley Hoare had tagged Joshua. [Honey, I had a prenatal checkup today, and the doctor said I'm carrying twins! Your family's about to get two grandchildren at once—excited?] My heart turned to ash. Everything clicked. Fine. We were done. I pulled out my phone and replied to my childhood sweetheart's message from three days ago: [After watching the northern lights, I still wanted to see penguins in Antarctica.]

My husband, Dominic Moore, insists on having his first love, Irene Cobb, at our wedding ceremony. Just when it's time for the bride to enter the hall, he suddenly asks for the ceremony to be paused for three minutes. Then, he gets off stage and pulls Irene, dressed in a white gown, out of the crowd. Right in front of all the guests, he takes her by the hand and walks her down the aisle, saying, "I promised Irene I'd walk her down the aisle someday." The tearful Irene throws herself into Dominic's arms before saying to my in-laws, "Mom, Dad. Although I won't get to be your daughter-in-law, I still want to address you as Mom and Dad just once." She turns back to Dominic and kisses him passionately. The guests exclaim in shock and whisper among themselves, eager to revel in my humiliation. However, I simply open the doors with a smile. I take off my veil and place it on Irene's head. "Why do you say you won't get to be their daughter-in-law? Since you like this cheating scumbag so much, I'll give him to you."

I've gone to the church to pray for my son, Robert Scott. On the way home, my carriage is overturned because the horses suffer from a shock. When I wake up, I look at my family gathering around my bed. Then, I decide to pull a prank on them. "Sorry, but who are you?" I do my best to suppress the smile that threatens to appear on my face. I want to see how my family is going to comfort me now that I have "amnesia". Will Mom and my husband, Jeremy Scott, take my hands comfortingly? Or will Robert lunge at me while crying out to me? What I don't expect is to see my family breathing sighs of relief after their initial shock has faded away. Mom is the first one to speak up with a hint of relief coloring her tone. "Since you've already forgotten all about us, then it's fine. Maisie, you're actually the adopted daughter of the Liddell family. Amber is the actual heiress of the Liddell family." Jeremy points at me while telling Robert, "Robbie, you must address her as Aunt Maisie." Before I can recover from my shock, I see my own son, whom I'm willing to sacrifice my life to protect, running over to hug Amber Liddell, the fake heiress, happily. "Mom, I've spent the whole day playing outside! Oh, I miss you so much!" So, it turns out that my case of amnesia is exactly what this family wants. In that case, I might as well abandon this farce of a family.

On Valentine's Day, I wait for my wife, Nancy Curtis, to get off work after preparing a candlelit dinner for our date. But she only texts me at 9:00 pm. "I have something going on at the company. There's no need to wait for me." Soon, I see a Facebook post made by Nancy's secretary, Derek Jones. "I'm on a business trip with my female boss on Valentine's Day. The thing is, the hotel's fully booked. Oops, this is getting awkward…" The photo in the post features a feminine silhouette standing in front of a floor-to-ceiling window while draped in a bathrobe. Everyone in the comment section compliments Derek for being lucky, seeing as the boss of his has a smoking hot figure and is extremely charming. Derek merely replies with a cheeky emoji. So, it turns out that Nancy's "business" is having fun with her own secretary, eh? I take a screenshot of Derek's post before uploading it to my own social media feed. I even include a smiley as a caption. Immediately, Nancy calls me on the phone and starts berating me. "Derek was just cracking a joke! Why are you being so petty, huh? And here I thought you were mature!" I end the call immediately before texting her, "Let's get a divorce."

Samantha Sonnet, my wife who's also a hospital dean, decides to replace my name with Nicholas Spark, the intern's name on the surgical atlas that I've spent the last three years drafting without my permission. That atlas is then published. I burn the only original draft of the atlas in front of the entire department. Samantha blames me for being brash. "He's just leaving his name there so that he can ensure a smoother project closeout." After dusting the ashes away, I reply, "My academic achievements will always be mine. Since someone else's name is printed on my achievements, that means they are no longer pure." Later at midnight, Samantha hands me a glass of warm milk in an attempt to apologize to me. When I regain consciousness once again, I've already gotten strapped to a surgical table beneath a huge spotlight. I see a scalpel glinting coldly right above me. "You're a man of purity, right?" Samantha murmurs into my ear. "Three people's blood will be coursing through your veins soon enough. You'll be impure soon enough!" At the moment, Samantha is livestreaming an illegal organ removal surgery. As I stare at the camera hovering above my head, I say coldly, "If you've recorded enough evidence, then it's time to turn off the camera! Tell Captain Hardy that I've gotten my hands on the evidence he wants!"

I spent four years pretending to be obedient by West Graham’s side. Four years ago, after the video of Nina Avery running over my younger sister was exposed, my boyfriend, Jake Smith, hired a top-tier defense attorney for her to clear her name. When I was completely alone, with no one to rely on, it was Nina’s stepbrother, West, who stepped forward and chose justice over blood. He found a lawyer for me and gathered witness testimonies and physical evidence everywhere he could. In the end, he personally sent Nina to prison. When everything finally settled, West proposed to me, and I said yes. However, in the fourth year of our marriage, I saw an email in West’s inbox. It was a birthday message from Nina, and attached was a selfie of her smiling brightly at the beach. In the bottom-right corner of the photo was yesterday’s date. [Happy birthday, West! It’s been four years since I received Erin’s sister’s heart. There haven’t been any complications at all. Thanks to you and Jake, I’m given a second chance in life.] West replied. [To make you happy, I’ll do anything.] After reading all of it, I smiled brighter than ever. It’s been four years, and their time to die has finally come.