When Sun Shines We'll Shine Together

In a world of werewolves, identical twin Alphas Damon and Mason Daerk rule the Southern Gate Pack with contrasting styles—Damon, stern and ruthless, and Mason, gentle and lenient but yet they don't seem to see eye to eye on pack matters. Their dynamics shift with the arrival of Emma, a beautiful and timid omega wolf who becomes the object of their desire. As they navigate their complicated relationships with Emma, they're threatened by Estella, a rogue wolf and Emma's aunt, who seeks revenge against the pack. As tensions escalate, the twins must put aside their differences to defeat Estella and protect Emma, ultimately discovering their own feelings for her. In the end, can Emma accepts both Damon and Mason as her mates? Will they ever find love and unity together?

Cecilia Henderson has lived her life in a bubble of privilege and purity, sheltered from the darkness that funds her father’s empire. Her world is charity galas, college degrees, and dreams untouched by violence. But when a single waltz with Zacian,the ruthless Boss of All Bosses, shatters that illusion, everything changes. Dominic Henderson, her father, is drowning under Zacian’s tightening grip. Desperate to protect his family and reclaim his power, Dominic strikes a dangerous bargain with rival bosses, setting the stage for betrayal and bloodshed. As tensions ignite and loyalties fracture, Cecilia becomes the ultimate leverage; a pawn in a game she never knew existed. But Zacian doesn’t see her as a pawn. He sees her as his weakness. And in a world where kings burn kingdoms for love, innocence may be the deadliest weapon of all.

My boyfriend did not like my big chest. He gave me five hundred thousand dollars to go for a breast reduction surgery. At the same time, a mystery man suddenly transferred me five million dollars with a note telling me not to listen to my boyfriend. I gripped my phone tightly and secretly replied to my boyfriend’s best friend’s text message. [If you want me to listen to you, money is not enough.] He immediately texted back. [What are you saying? I don’t understand.] I replied. [Forget about it. I’m heading to the hospital now.] As expected, he got anxious. [What else do you want?] [Do you have 7 inches?] [I have 10 inches.] [I won’t believe you until I see it for myself.] After that, he proved it to me through his actions.

I was Brandon Sandler’s most cherished canary—pampered, sheltered, and utterly his for five years. Then came the news of his engagement to another woman. Only then did I realize his affection had been a carefully crafted revenge. He trapped me by his side, flaunting his love for another while subjecting me to relentless humiliation. Eventually, I stopped caring. But the ruthless business tycoon, who once held himself above all, clutched me with red-rimmed eyes, begging me to come home. He said he regretted everything. My hand instinctively cradled my stomach as I glanced at the man behind him. “Darling,” I murmured, “this man is scaring our baby.”

Grandma lay bedridden, her dementia taking hold as she repeated Scarlett Hayes's name over and over. Tears streamed down my face as I dialed my wife's number. When she picked up, Scarlett sounded irritated. She said she was working late tonight and would call me back when she was free. I could clearly hear the sound of a man's laughter in the background. The moment I hung up, Grandma gasped sharply. She called out my wife's name. It was her last breath. While I sat drowning in grief, Scarlett's male best friend Chase Morrison posted a video update, geotagged at a couples' hotel. In the video, their fingers were laced together. The woman's arm bore a distinctive black mole I recognized instantly. The caption read: "When two hearts become one, why care what anyone else thinks?" In that moment, my heart turned to ash. I gritted my teeth and left a comment. "Let's file for divorce tomorrow. Then you two can be together openly and legally. You'll even save on the hotel fees. Win-win, right?"

This is my 18th time coming to City Hall, yet Tessa's still nowhere to be seen. Right as I'm about to call and ask her how much longer she'll be, her childhood friend's post popped up on my screen. "Celebrating 1000 days of marriage with my wife. May we always be this happy." The photo highlights a marriage certificate, and Tessa Cross' name is right there under "wife". As for the license date, it shows February 14th, three years ago. So this is why she hasn't shown up the last eighteen times. It turns out that she's already somebody else's wife.

On the night the family manor was set on fire, my husband Don Luciano Cacciola whisked Loretta Peri away. "Be a good girl and wait for me here, Tati. I'll send my men over to pick you up soon." As soon as he left, the explosions buried around the villa were set off instantly. That's when I sent Luciano one last text. "Luciano, we're even now." Rumors had it that Luciano had gone mad after that incident. As he gripped the burned ring, he purged the entire mafia family on his own. After that, he kneeled before my grave for three long days. When Luciano found out that there was a possibility of my surviving the explosion, he decided to give away half of his family fortune just so he could track me down. Three years later, Luciano stares at the woman, who's toying with a pistol, with red-rimmed eyes at the family's negotiation table. "Tati… Is that you?" I pull the trigger in response, causing a bullet to ricochet past Luciano's ear. "You got the wrong person, Mr. Cacciola. I'm here to take your life." As I watch Luciano kneel by my feet and press a kiss onto the tip of my high heel, I can't help but laugh. This time, it's my turn to choose.

My husband’s family has a tradition of couples living apart together, and he can't publicly acknowledge our relationship until a son is born. He forces me to respect his family's traditions and tells me to raise our daughter alone. Six years after we got married, Andrew Sonovan inherits everything his late brother left behind, including his widow, Kasey Jordan. To satisfy his family's demands for him to carry on both lines, he sleeps with Kasey time and time again. Then, he holds me in his arms. "I can have a proper wedding with you once Kasey gets pregnant and carries on my brother's line. Hold on for a bit longer…" However, all I get is the news of him marrying Kasey. "Marry me, Kasey! I'll make you the happiest woman in the world!" I watch as Andrew gets on one knee in the glow of the flickering candlelight. He looks at Kasey lovingly as he proposes. Meanwhile, she rubs her baby bump, looking blissful. My daughter and I stand outside the room and witness their happiness. It's only then do I understand that I'm the only one who's been in the dark for the past six years.

At our wedding, my wife's assistant "accidentally" uploaded the wrong photo. The big screen was supposed to display our wedding portraits. Instead, it was a picture of my wife and him in full wedding attire. Their fingers were laced together, their eyes locked in a soft, intimate gaze, looking every bit like a blissfully happy couple. The entire venue erupted in shocked whispers. The assistant froze in shock, acting like he had no idea why he was in the photo. He started panicking, asking if we should just postpone the ceremony. My wife, however, stayed surprisingly calm. She whispered her solution, “Everyone’s here. Postponing now would be humiliating and, honestly, a bad omen. Beside, most people here don’t even know what the groom looks like. Why don’t we just let him stand in for you?” Our friends were dumbfounded. They all thought I’d explode in anger and jealousy after hearing something so outrageous. Instead, I nodded, saying it was actually a great idea. Seeing how composed I remained, my wife looked pleased with herself. She told me that since we were legally married anyway, she’d make it up to me later with another ceremony. However, she seemed to have forgotten one thing: she had just signed the divorce papers.

Every Thanksgiving, my husband, Salvatore, brings home a showgirl from one of his clubs. He makes me kneel and serve them drinks. A lesson, he calls it, in how to please a man. This was the eighth Thanksgiving, and this time, he brought back a girl poured into a tight leather dress. "She doesn't have any decent jewelry," Salvatore announced. "Give her your heirloom diamond ring. Your grandmother's pearl earrings, too. And take off that silk choker for her." He smirked. "And listen, she's young, doesn't know the rules. You'll have to show her the ropes. Especially how to handle a man in bed." Every member of the Genovese family was watching, waiting for my humiliation. I didn't disappoint. I opened my mouth and asked Salvatore for a divorce. Salvatore let out a sharp, ugly laugh, his eyes full of contempt. "Francesca, you pull this same shit every time," he jeered. "Your act is pathetic. Even more dramatic than your performance in bed." He leaned in. "You really want to divorce me? Fine. I'll give you five million in cash if you actually walk out that door." The living room erupted in laughter. They all said I was playing hard to get, that I didn't know my place. But they didn't know. This was the 88th time I had asked for a divorce, and it was the first time I truly meant it.