Vegeta Holding Minion

Iris Rossi, a 23-year-old sharp young attorney, has been building a reputation for dismantling the criminal networks of New York’s elite. She sees the Moretti family as her ultimate takedown. Dante Moretti, newly in charge of his late father’s empire, needs to appear legitimate, to secure his position against rivals and federal investigators. After a major courtroom win against one of Dante’s shell companies, Iris is confronted by Dante himself. Instead of threatening her life, he offers her a deal: marry him for one year and secure his public image, or watch her family’s hidden crimes surface, destroying her career and reputation. She discovers evidence that her late father laundered money for the Mafia, and Dante is holding it over her.

On my birthday, Rowan Shore ditches me for the 99th time to run to his suicidal true love. I tell the system, "I'm done with this mission. I've had enough." For years, I have tried every trick in the book, but I can't win Rowan's heart. The system says that if I die in this world, I'll return to my original one. The first time, I slit my wrists in the bathroom. Rowan kicks the door down, sends me to the hospital, and berates me for using self-harm to snare his attention. The second time, I swallow an entire bottle of sleeping pills. He bursts in at the last moment and sobs while holding me. He says he knows he messed up. There's still a third time, a fourth time, and more, right?

My mate, Carter, sent me to a werewolf prison for four years. On the day I was released, he arrived holding the hand of his pregnant mistress. “This is what your parents owe me.” “From today on, you’ll take care of Amelia.” I nodded obediently. She made me pick roses with my bare hands. Made me plant a hundred pots under the scorching sun. Made me scrub my allergic, ulcerated skin with alcohol. And I did everything she asked. Until the day they brought me back to my old home. The house was gone. In its place stretched an endless rose garden. And my only sister— had become nothing but a box of ashes. That was the moment I understood. I survived not to atone. I survived to take revenge.

‘She was MINE before. How could I have known she would find another man so quickly?’Dresden Wade was pretty sure the goddess was punishing him. Married for half a decade to his childhood sweetheart without a child, he is desperate for a chance to fight his wrongs when he sees her again.His TRUE mate. The woman he scorned and humiliated all those years ago.Except that now, she is standing holding hands with another Alpha.Mara Reid wants nothing to do with the surly, arrogant Alpha that used to be her mate. He had made the earlier parts of her adulthood traumatic to say the least.So why did meeting him again feel like coming home? Why did her traitorous heart skip whenever he called her name?

Five years ago, Daniel Douglas publicly called off their engagement and sent her to prison himself. On the day of her release, Daniel took her to the hospital, demanding, "Serena Avery has been in a car accident and needs a kidney transplant. Give her yours." She refused, but he coerced her by all means. On the day of the surgery, her heart suddenly stopped and resuscitation failed. It was said that the man who wanted her dead wept at her grave for three days and three nights. Later, Daniel saw her again at the Douglas family home. She was already holding a five-year-old child, having married his elder brother Ethan and become his beloved and spoiled wife. Daniel: "Jasmine, I know I was wrong，please come back!" Ethan: "Get out! She's your sister-in-law now."

"I agree to the divorce," I said as I dialed my mother-in-law's number. "Matteo Bellandi will never agree to divorce me, so you need to arrange a new identity for me. I need to disappear completely. He must never find me." Despite six years of marriage, I never conceived a child. In the Mafia world, how many men remarried for the sake of an heir? Yet Matteo always stood firmly at my side. To have a child, we tried everything—ninety-nine rounds of IVF that resulted in ninety-eight failures. The final pregnancy ended in fetal demise. Matteo held me and said, "Whether we have a child or not, I will always love you." Everyone said he was deeply devoted and that I was fortunate. Even I believed it. I believed it was my body that was defective. I believed I was the one holding him back. Until that day, when I went to the hospital for a follow-up exam. I saw him with my own eyes, pushing a mobile hospital bed into a VIP suite. On the bed lay a young woman named Sienna Vale, who had just given birth, holding a pair of twins—a boy and a girl. The congratulations inside the room were sharp and piercing. They praised his good fortune and Sienna's superior genes. They said the children were born to inherit the Bellandi empire. They mocked my education and my background and said I could not produce a "high-quality" heir. "Who do you think you are, daring to speak about her? My wife is not someone you get to judge. If I hear one more word of disrespect toward my Donna, you'd better weigh the consequences yourself," Matteo rebuked them coldly, preserving my dignity as Donna. In that moment, I finally understood that the marriage I had been so proud of was nothing more than a joke in everyone else's eyes. If that was the case, I would end this love story everyone envied with my own hands.

Chuck's beloved ex, Ella, got divorced and showed up with her two-year-old daughter. Without asking me, he let Ella and her kid move into our home. Then Ella posted a photo of Chuck holding the child, captioned: [My husband cheated, so I filed for divorce, gave my baby a new dad, and found myself a new husband.] The comments were full of praise: [Real-life boss woman drama!] I had to laugh—so being a homewrecker is what counts as a strong woman now? Chuck didn't see a problem. He even told the child to call me "Momma." "Ella's husband cheated on her. She's raising a kid alone. As a woman, can't you have a little empathy? I'm just helping her out." Well, I had no empathy to give—not for the mistress, and definitely not for the scumbag.

Clara stood in the middle of the glass room with her transparent clothes, holding back her embarrassment while trying to cover her body with both hands. There were cheers from outside the glass room and naughty looks from the hungry men. "1 million," "5 million," "7 million," Everyone placed a bet on Clara at a fairly low price, tears kept going to roll down Clara's rosy cheeks. Her body was almost shaky and she couldn't meet everyone's eyes, she was like a kitten amidst a hungry lion. "50 million," A man's voice that surprised her made their eyes meet. A most dangerous mafia chief raises his betting cards and shocks everyone. Steven looked at Clara with a grin, as if he was ready to eat Clara alive. His eyes were sharp like a wolf's, and it was him.

A car accident leaves me unconscious for a full three years. When I wake up, my family bursts into tears of joy. They care for me with the utmost attention. But from their behavior, I sense something is wrong. There are women's clothes in the house that don't fit me. My mother's shopping cart is filled with mysterious baby items. My father's friends send congratulatory messages about a new child, and my husband is always working overtime. When my husband once again leaves me alone under the pretext that there is something urgent at the company, I secretly follow him. Inside a warmly decorated house, my parents and husband sit around a table. A woman who looks almost exactly like me is holding a baby just a few months old, gently coaxing the child to call my husband "Daddy".

I married a man I couldn't touch then slept with a man I couldn't trust. After walking in on my husband in bed with my cousin and getting her pregnant. I didn’t just sign the divorce papers. I lit them on fire. Frigid, they called me. Uptight. Ice queen. So I moved out. Looked for a roommate. Someone quiet. Preferably female. Her name was Kylie. Except... Kylie turned out to be Kyle—a smug, tattooed stranger with a dirty-mouth and secrets carved into his smirk. He’s cocky, cruel, and way too hot for a man who eats peanut butter from the jar and calls it dinner. One drunken night, I let him in. All the way in. And I swore it meant nothing. Until I found my uncle lying in a pool of blood— And Kyle was holding the gun.