When I Get My Name In Lights

Restaurateur and self-exiled heir Lucien Lenault's first look at the breathtaking young chef trainee for his trendy Chicago restaurant is a shock. She’s Elise Martin, daughter of a wealthy French fashion designer. She’s also the holder of a secret that could explode his carefully laid plans. Notorious for her flagrant exhibitionism, and for flouting the respectable façade of her aristocratic background, the coquine’s wild streak shocked most people. Not Lucien. He was tempted by it. It was a deliriously punishable offense as far as Lucien was concerned. But taking on Elise is more than a game. She’s a catastrophe waiting to happen, an inferno that’s burned many a lover. Lucien isn’t most men, however, and he won’t allow her to manipulate him. In order to control the defiant beauty—in order to see her submit—he’s going to have to willingly walk in the flames…

In the underground casino, my ex-fiancé Don Dante Castellano threw the card in my face. His arm was around Sabrina—his first love—and his eyes were ice as they shoved me toward the table. "Your father owed mine a life. The thing in your belly isn't mine." He pressed the card flat against my cheek. "The daughter pays the father's debt. Tonight you're the living chip on that table." The paternity test was fake. The child was his. I knew. He didn't believe me. That night, with a gun pointed at my head, I took off all my clothes in front of everyone. Two years passed. Two years later, in Vegas, he saw me again. I was in a red silk dress with a gold chain around my neck, the other end of the chain held by a yellow-toothed gambler. "This bitch is cheap. Bark for me, and all these chips are yours." I picked up the chips, practiced. "Woof. Woof." Sabrina pressed her face into his chest, covering her nose. "Dante. This is disgusting. Let's go." He didn't go. The veins rose along his temple. He was staring at the bruises on my knees. Then he kicked the gambler across the room. He bent down and took hold of my chin. Hard. "Sienna. Money, and you'll do anything at all?" He was close enough that I could smell him. Soap. Two years, and still the same soap. I closed my eyes, opened them, pulled my mouth into a smile for him. "That's right, boss. Pay up and I'll cooperate with whatever position you want. Care to buy a round?"

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.

The day before my wedding, my daughter and I got into a car accident. My daughter died instantly, and I was left with broken legs, condemned to spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair. When Spencer Ford found out, he rushed us to the hospital, his actions frantic, almost out of control. In the midst of my pain, I overheard a conversation between Spencer and his assistant. "The car's been disposed of. Lorelei will never find out that we tampered with it. But I'm compelled to ask… Rowena was your own daughter. Was it really worth it, losing her for Melanie? "When Rowena was dying, she was calling for you to save her… I could hardly bring myself to do it." Spencer remained silent for a long time, the tension in the air thick. Then he slowly exhaled a plume of smoke. "Melanie's pregnant. I won't let anyone compete with her child for the inheritance. And all of this is Lorelei's fault. She brought it on herself."

⚠️ WARNING: Cowards stay out! No one under 18 allowed! ⚠️ Ava slept with the Mafia boss! Upon discovering her fiancé’s illicit relationship with her cousin, she learned they planned to sell her into the red-light district. Shattered physically and emotionally, Ava was in despair when the Mafia leader invited her to join his world. Alexander Clark was a notorious villain, cold and distant, with no feelings at all. People either froze or trembled at the sight of him; he was more terrifying than the devil. What happens when this devil invites you into his world? What happens when her savior starts to fall for her? He is her nominal uncle. Will she love him back? Will he be able to protect her when her fiancé tries to take her away? What will Alex do when he finds out her fiancé plans to sell her to the highest bidder?

Lara is an independent woman in her thirties. She’s currently working as a teacher in a prestigious high school for girls in Manila. Isang politiko ang ama niya at abala sa pangangampanya sa darating na eleksiyon bilang alkalde sa probinsya ng Tarlac. Dahil dito ay naging politikal/legal advisor ng kanyang ama si Dion Montefalco. Si Dion ay anak ng isang politiko sa San Juan at kaibigan iyon ng kanyang ama. Hindi niya inakala na ang muling pagpasok ni Dion sa buhay nila ang magiging dahilan ng pagbaliktad ng kanyang mundo. Kung tadhana nga itong maituturing hula niya, sila'y pinaglaruan.

I'm Isa Borgia, the daughter of the most powerful Don in Corvina. My father worries I'll marry the wrong man on a whim, so he arranges for me to be engaged to Luca, the rising heir of the Marino family. It's an arranged marriage, but that doesn't mean I've lost all my say. The very least I can do is choose a ring I genuinely like. So, I go to the mafia auction. When the diamond ring appears as the final jewel of the night, I lift my paddle. Just before the gavel falls, an arrogant voice comes from behind me. "A country bumpkin like you thinks you can compete with me? Do yourself a favor and leave." The auction hall goes quiet for a few seconds. The only sound comes from the camera shutters clicking around the hall. I turn and see a woman in a gold couture gown. Her mouth curves in a casual smile, as if she owns the place. Before I can say a word, the auctioneer rushes to close the bid.
"Sold! Congratulations to Ms. Sofia Lopez for winning the final lot, the Eternal Star!" My brows pull tight, and a hot spike of anger rises in my chest. "You ended the bidding early! Do you even follow the rules here?" Sofia turns around and gives me a once-over, her gaze sharp as a blade. 
"Rules?" She lets out a cold laugh. "Come on. I'm Luca Marino's favorite godsister. Around here, I make the rules!" I can't help but laugh. What a coincidence. So, she's my fiance's godsister. I pull out my phone and call him. "Luca, your godsister just snatched the engagement ring I picked out. How are you going to handle this?"

His hand gripped her throat, forcing her back against the cold glass as she choked for breath. “You’ve bewitched my son, and now he asks for his mother…” “No!” she gasped. “He is not your son. He never was! You stole him from me—and locked me away for three years because you’re a billionaire with a god complex!” …. Three years ago, Chelley was betrayed and humiliated by everyone she loved—her ex-husband impregnated her adoptive sister, and her adoptive parents supported her sister whilst blaming her for being barren without giving her a chance to announce her pregnancy. Abandoned and pregnant, she vanished, only to fall into the hands of a crueler fate: Cassian Moretti—a ruthless billionaire with a heart of ice and a dark motive. Cassian locked her away and took her child, named him Asher Moretti, and raised him as his own—because without that boy, he’d lose control over a trillion-dollar legacy clause that ties his fortune to the child. But when the boy starts asking for his real mother, Cassian makes Chelley an offer she can’t refuse. “You want your son?” he sneers. “Then marry me. Publicly, you’re my perfect wife. Smile when I kiss you. And behind the cameras, you’re mine to command. My slave, my property! Stay silent when I hurt. Defy me, and your son disappears forever.” Now, forced into a fake marriage with the man who stole her freedom, Chelley became the First Lady of Cassian’s trillion dollar empire, She wants her vengeance, On her ex-husband, her family, her step-sister and Cassian himself.

The contractions were ripping me in two. My vision was going dark. My husband, Don Vittorio, the man who ruled Chicago, squeezed my hand. His dark eyes burned with love. "Just a little longer, mia cara. You'll meet our baby soon." Sweat poured down my face. I still found the strength to smile for him. Then a nurse walked in. She held a syringe. I thought it was to stop the pain. But Vittorio’s hand fell away. He took a single step back. The needle sank into my arm. I heard Vittorio’s voice. It was cold steel. "Dose her carefully. She holds on until midnight. Not a minute sooner. Not until after Ornella delivers." And then I knew. He thought I married him for the money. He was stopping my labor. All for a sick Falcone family rule: the first son born is the next heir. Pain tore through me. I reached for him. Tears streamed down my face. I begged him to stop. He bit his lip. His voice was pure ice. "My brother is dead. Ornella carries his only heir. You will do as you are told. You and your child will not steal his birthright." The drug hit my veins. The violent squeeze in my belly, like some invisible hand, just… stopped.

As the most well-known weather forecaster in the city, my forecasts were always wrong. Over time, everyone caught on. In this city, whether it rained or snowed depended entirely on the emotions of Cody Harper's lover. One moment, I'm on air announcing "moderate to heavy snow," but the next, the clouds in the sky parted and cleared. My boss openly mocked me. "You used to be the most popular presenter at our station, but not anymore, huh? Your husband’s throwing money around to manipulate the weather. What's the point of you reporting the forecast?" A coworker ruthlessly added, "I heard her husband's new lover doesn't like the cold, so there probably won't be any snow in the city for half a year. I think she's gonna be hit with a lot of fines." Clutching over a dozen penalty notices, I remained silent. When I got home, I tossed the penalty notices at Cody expressionlessly. "Clean up your own mess. I'm tired of being Mrs. Harper. I quit."