Three Years Wasted, I Married Mr·right

On the day the gynecologist confirmed that I was pregnant, my husband, Austin Jones, pushed me into the operating room to donate blood to save his first love. Feeling frail after the blood transfusion, I almost fainted in front of Austin. However, he pushed me away and went to take care of his first love. Furthermore, he hung up on all my phone calls and stayed with his first love all night on the day I miscarried. Time after time, I was met with disappointment. When I finally decided that I had enough of his mistreatment and no longer wanted to love him, he panicked and begged me to give him another chance.

Brooklyn pulled her phone from her designer handbag to take a photo of her marriage certificate, but her husband snatched the marriage certificate from her hand and asked coldly, “What do you think you are doing, Brooklyn?” Brooklyn looked at her new husband with eyes full of love and replied, “I want to share our happiness with people who are important in my life, Preston.” A surge of anger rose in Preston’s heart, and he said, “Listen carefully, Brooklyn. You will never have my heart. You are nothing but my nominal wife. Please ensure that our marriage remains a secret. Should you disclose our marital status to your so-called important people, you will face consequences.” Brooklyn felt that her heart had been squeezed by invisible hands. The pain was so intense that she couldn’t breathe. Brooklyn swiftly regained her composure before meeting her husband’s gaze. She looked at her husband with eyes that were calm but devoid of any warmth and replied, “I understand, Mr James.”

They say opposites attract. Yet, Raffaele and Edwina avoid each other like the plague. Physically present, but lost in separate dimensions—two forces resisting, yet desperately needing each other to survive. They are each other’s equilibrium, just as fire needs air, just as heat demands the cold. They know it, but they fight it. Raffaele Marcello is the undisputed King of the Italian Mafia. A ghost in the underworld, ruthless and untouchable. One look in his eyes, and you’re as good as dead. He is a killer who has carved away parts of himself just to survive. Blood stains his hands—someone, somewhere had to die for him to live. He is his own law, the embodiment of power itself. Edwina Gemstone is fire wrapped in elegance, a force to be reckoned with. Sassy, sharp-tongued, and unapologetically fierce, she never bows to anyone. Success drapes around her like the finest diamonds, and she wears it with the confidence of a queen. But to touch her is to invite scars—she burns, and she does not regret it. Different paths. Twisted fate. A collision inevitable.

For once, Gianna wants things to go smoothly in her life. After breaking the engagement with her cheater fiancé three years ago, she feels like she wasted enough time. Her bestfriend urges her to find a lover, especially that Marson seems desperate to fill in the role. Now that she finally allows herself to try love the second time, fate hands her down a card she can’t help but gamble. Caden Vitaro is famous band member of a pop-rock band. Now that the band decided to end their journey, a final tribute is on the way and Caden is given a challenge to compose one more song for the fans. The only problem is, he lost himself in guilt to what happened three years ago, and so is his passion. Coming back to his hometown in South Ganuala, he meets his first love, the first girl who put melody and rhythm in his life, his first fan girl. Maybe she will heal him and be his muse. Or maybe, the lost love between them will break him even more.

On the day we're supposed to register our marriage, my girlfriend Jenny Sutton has me removed from the city hall. She walks in with her childhood sweetheart, Ronald Walsh. She looks at me without a flicker of guilt and says, "Ronald's kid needs his legal status sorted out. Once we divorce, I'll marry you." Everyone assumes I'll wait. I'm the devoted fool who's already waited seven years, so one more month seems trivial. That night, I go along with my family's plan and leave the country for a marriage of convenience. I cut myself cleanly out of Jenny's life. Three years later, I return to the country with my wife, Ellie Olsen, who's a CEO, to pay respects at her family's graves. A last-minute issue pulls her away, and she asks the local branch to send someone to pick me up. I didn't expect Jenny, not after three years. "You have dragged this out long enough. Come back. Ronald's kid will be starting kindergarten soon. You can handle the school runs."

During a turf war, I took a bullet for Daniel Wilson. When I woke up in the family hospital after three years in a coma, I discovered that Eva, the showgirl I'd saved from a black market auction, had usurped my place in the Wilson family. My husband Daniel, the family's Underboss, saw that I was awake, and his first words to me were: "The entire underworld recognizes Eva as the woman by my side now. Why did you have to wake up at a time like this?" "Alice and I both love her. She's the one who's been by our side these past three years. And you? You've just been a body in a hospital bed, absent from our lives." "We're through, Sarah." Watching the man I once loved so deeply speak such heartless words, I didn't put up a fight. I simply nodded and gave him what he wanted. But he had no idea the Wilson family was about to burn to the ground.

It only takes one unfortunate evening for Amara: she is jobless, she catches her fiancé with her stepsister, and her own father places the blame on her. One too many drinks led to Adrian Cole, a powerful CEO and the greatest rival of her ex-fiancé. Adrian gets to offer to treat her mother when she becomes critically ill, one of those very few moments in Amara's life when she doesn't have enough money for her treatment. He makes her one proposition: Amara must marry him for three years. Jealousy, lies, and an ex trying to return threaten to rip apart their contract marriage. Amara attempts to walk away, but Adrian refuses to let her go. Until the truth comes out. Now she wants her freedom. He wants another chance. And three years may not be enough.

They say that the deepest cuts come from the ones you hold closest to your heart. But I never expected my husband to be the one holding the knife while another woman twisted it in deeper.... My name is Ariana Carter. I am deeply in love with my husband Misha, and we have the perfect marriage. Scratch that, HAD the perfect marriage, or so I thought until he changed. His lies and betrayal broke me. Until I woke up. Now it's time for me to retake everything I lost--my life, my career, my family, and my dignity. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's start at the beginning, shall we?

My husband, Kieran, is the heir to the Thompson family. In the three years of our arranged marriage, he has never once touched me. I told myself he was just cold and guarded, that I could find a way into his heart, little by little. Then one day he came home drunk, pinned me to the bed for the first time, and called out his first love's name. "Camilla, all these years... I've thought of you every second of every day..." That was when I knew. All the passion and love he possessed was already spent on another woman. I pushed him away, burned every photo of us, and went to a high-end club in New York full of handsome male models. Nine months later, I walked into the airport with my newborn baby in my arms. Later, Kieran searched the world for me, his eyes bloodshot. He asked in a trembling voice why I never told him I was pregnant, why I wouldn't let him see our baby. I glanced at him and gave a light, breezy smile. "Who said the baby was yours?"

On New Year's Eve, I returned home. At the welcome party, my boyfriend, Grayson Caldwell, suddenly appeared, holding a bouquet of red roses and a diamond ring, dropping to one knee. "Although this proposal comes a full three years late, our love will never be late," he said. "Alexa, marry me!" Friends cheered from the sidelines, all expecting me to nod through tears and say yes. But they had forgotten that three years ago, on New Year's Eve, he had promised to propose. That night, I dressed to the nines and waited until dawn—but he never showed up. Instead, there was only a cold phone call. "Tanya is sick. I'm busy taking care of her. You'll have to wait a little longer for the proposal." And so, on New Year's Day, I left the country alone, bound by a family-arranged marriage. I had already married someone else three years ago.