Willy Wonka Good Morning Starshine

After helping the company secure a project worth 30 million dollars, the HR department suddenly tells me that I'm fired, and I will not be receiving any of my bonuses this year. Confused, I look for my boss, Jett Leroy, to ask him about it. However, he points his finger in my face and yells at me, "If it weren't for you being a stupid Scorpio, being the most toxic match for me and affecting the company's luck, we wouldn't have had a 30% drop in net profits this year! "I'm already generous enough by not making you compensate for all the losses you caused me! How dare you still ask me for more money? Get lost if you know what's best for you!" I smile when I read the text message notification on my phone and hurriedly sign the release documents. Jett is right. My horoscope and his definitely don't get along well. After all, I will be coming for his ass just a short while later!

I worked for a restaurant, and our boss loved making empty promises about giving us restaurant shares. The boss said we would start with zero shares, but we could earn 0.01% for every two hours of overtime, covering someone else’s work or saving the restaurant 1,000 bucks. I suggested she write this down in an official document and have someone track it properly. She just smiled and told everyone to work harder. She never actually put it in writing. The experienced staff did not believe her, but one prep cook took it seriously. At the end of the year, he went to the boss to claim his shares. The boss said, “Sorry, the head chef told me there’s no official document, so it doesn’t count. You can’t claim any shares.” The prep cook worked hard all year and got nothing for it, so he took his anger out on me. The day before I was going home for the New Year, he killed me with a knife. “If you hadn’t said it doesn’t count without an official document, this whole restaurant would’ve been mine!” I lay in a pool of blood. When I opened my eyes, I was back to the day the boss first made those empty promises.

It was a national holiday and we decided to drive back to my husband's hometown to spend the holidays. One day before we left, my husband's childhood crush came crying to him that she had not managed to buy train tickets home. My husband immediately decided to let her have my seat in the car and insisted that I take the train instead. I looked at him in disbelief. There was shock in my eyes. Even my son insisted I take the train. "Mommy, Aunt Rosie is so pretty. How could you make her take the train?" I did not argue. I booked my train ticket right in front of them. However, it was to my own hometown. I no longer wanted a biased husband and a disloyal son.

The day I went to try on my wedding suit, a stranger stormed into the VIP fitting room and drove a knife into my gut. "Sleeping with my woman, and you dare wear a suit this expensive?" He ripped my shirt into ribbons with a wild grin and threw sulfuric acid straight at me. The knife was buried deep in my abdomen. Pain ripped through me as I collapsed. He yanked my hair, forcing my head up. "Susan Lefebvre is my wife. What the hell are you? Just some filthy side piece hiding in the shadows!" Blood dripped from my fingertips as the truth sank in. The fiancée I'd loved for seven years had been cheating on me all along. "What are you staring at?" He sneered. "Even if I kill you, no one can touch me. My wife runs this city!" Watching that arrogant face twist in triumph, I took out my phone with a trembling, blood-soaked hand and dialed my sister. "Allison," I said, my voice cold and calm. "Come pick me up at the bridal salon. And tell the Lefebvres that the engagement is off."

Brandon Smith is a handsome billionaire and single father of two. She hired Chris Mariah Sigua to be his bride to grant the wish of his children to have a mother who will cook a meal, take good care of them, and have a big, happy family. Chris Mariah Sigua, the breadwinner of her family, works as a kindergarten teacher in the morning and as a housekeeper at night. She accepted Mr. Smith's offer to save her father's life. She won't mind if she suddenly becomes a billionaire's bride if it means her father will survive and her family in the Philippines will have a comfortable life. But the question is, would their marriage work if there was no love between them, just pure business? Will they be able to learn to love each other after they marry, or will they divorce?

My younger sister Avery Denning's fiance, Timothy Lane, is injured by a raging bull on the eve of their wedding. Timothy ends up impotent because of the incident. Refusing to marry an impotent man, Avery flees from the wedding. I gaze at Timothy, abandoned, along with my humiliated parents. My parents then beg me to marry Timothy instead, to which I agree. Since marrying Timothy, I've shouldered the burden of juggling household chores and outside work, working tirelessly from morning till night. He miraculously recovers from his impotence and even becomes the wealthiest man in town. But Avery suddenly returns on the day Timothy is officially announced as the wealthiest man in Greenwood Vale. She sobs as she explains that she didn't flee the wedding of her own will. Instead, Avery claims that I had tricked her into going into the mountains to search for a miraculous berry that could cure Timothy's impotence. She also claims that I had struck her unconscious on said mountain range. Timothy immediately believes Avery's lies. He angrily slaps me and even tosses me into a river to drown. My words fall on deaf ears, and I swiftly pull Timothy and Avery down into the river with me. When I next wake up, I am back to the day of my wedding to Timothy. This time, Avery shows up, too. But what they don't know is that without me, Timothy will never recover from his impotence nor become the wealthiest man in Greenwood Vale.

As soon as I saw her, I knew I had to have her. I thought this Vegas fundraiser was going to be boring—another obligation to keep the family business alive. Wrong. I don’t remember a thing about the night we spent together, other than how good she felt against me, like she was made for me. We woke up the next morning with more than we bargained for—wedding rings. Too bad I don’t believe in true love. I’d feel bad about it, but she’s got a strong opinion of me too. I’m a perpetual bachelor from her perspective. Great. Crazy enough, this could work out for both of us. I need someone to keep my traditional Greek family from nagging me about settling down, and she could use some cash for reasons she doesn’t want to share. I know a good deal when I see one. And if she wants to end up in my bed all over again, all the better…

In the third year of my engagement to Jack, he found himself a pureblooded, sharp-fanged huntress up in the Northern Territory. The night before my birthday, he brought her to me—just to call off the bond. He looked at me, cold and distant. “Bethel and I both live for the thrill of the night hunt. You're just a greenhouse wolf—soft and sheltered. You’ll never get what makes it all so addictive.” I asked, holding back the hurt, “Did it really have to be today?” He chuckled, “Did breaking a bond require a date on the calendar?” I nodded without arguing. But the next month, we ended up in the same Blood Moon Trial up north. What he didn’t know was—I tasted the rush of the hunt, the heat of blood, and got the champion long before he even came of age. Later, on his birthday, I sealed a life bond with another powerful wolf. He looked at me, red-eyed and hoarse, voice barely his, “Did it have to be today?” I smiled back, “Life bonds need good omens. The moon’s just right tonight.”

The night before high school graduation, Ethan Luciano pulled me into his bedroom. His hands were rough, his touch demanding, yet my heart overflowed with a decade's worth of unspoken longing. I'd loved Ethan for ten years, and finally, it seemed my silent wishes had come true. Afterwards, as we lay tangled in his sheets, he whispered that he'd marry me after graduation. Once he took over the Luciano family's empire from his father, he'd make me the most cherished woman in the family. I believed him. The next morning, I sat curled up against his bare chest as he casually told my foster brother, Lucas, about us. My cheeks were flushed, and my heart raced, still clinging to the sweetness of the night before. However, then their conversation shifted into Italian. Lucas smirked, leaning back against the doorframe. "Not bad, Young Boss. Your first time, and the school's 'it girl' just threw herself at you. So, how's my little sister taste?" Ethan gave a lazy chuckle. "Looks like an angel, but a freak in the sheets. Who would’ve thought?" The room erupted in low, conspiratorial laughter. Lucas raised a brow. "So, should I call her my little sister or my future sister-in-law?" Ethan’s tone darkened, his arm tightening around my waist for a moment. Then he let out a sigh. "She’s nothing. Just practice," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I’m trying to hook up with the cheer captain, Sylvia Dawson, but I don’t want her thinking I’m clueless in bed. Cynthia Saville’s just a warm-up." He paused. "But don’t tell Sylvia. I don’t need her getting all emotional." They didn't know that I’d spent months secretly learning Italian, preparing for the life I thought I’d share with Ethan. I didn't say a word. Later that day, I quietly withdrew my early decision application to Caltech and applied to MIT instead.

Our bridal room was set on fire, and my husband, a firefighter, was grievously wounded while trying to save me. I sent him to be saved at the hospital where Winnie Sloan, his childhood friend worked, but the surgery ended up being a failure, and my husband passed away. After the announcement that my husband was deceased, Winnie told me that his dying wish was that he wanted a child. Hearing that, I powered through my grief and used the sperm he had previously frozen to conceive a child through IVF, raising my son to be enrolled in the most prestigious university in the area. On the day of the celebration party, my son kicked me out and invited my husband and Winnie onto the stage as his 'biological parents', and that's when I found out that my husband had faked his death. All those years ago, he and Winnie had swapped out the embryo I'd conceived in secret. The son I had painstakingly given birth to and raised turned out to have no blood relation to me whatsoever. Meanwhile, my husband had been enjoying a luxurious life overseas with Winnie while waiting for a chance to reconnect with his son. In my rage, I confronted them and demanded an explanation, but ended up dying because they pushed me down the stairs. When I came to, I was back to the day of the fire.