What Happens At The End Of The Pachinko Parlour?

My husband is poor. We've already been married for three years, but I've covered all our expenses during that time. Even when I'm interested in a cheap bag when we go shopping, he says it's too expensive. He tells me not to buy it. Later, I discover that he gives his first love a four-million-dollar diamond necklace for her birthday. It turns out he's not broke and heavily in debt—he's the heir to an affluent family with a net worth of billions of dollars.

The Cossini family has a strict rule about marriage—the future don can only marry a woman of equal social standing. But Marco Cossini falls madly in love with me and declares that he won't marry anyone but me. In a fit of anger, his father, Don Sergio, locks him up in the dungeon and uses corporal punishment on him. Even when he emerges covered in blood, he still puts a ring on my finger, saying, "Don't be scared, Helena. You're my entire world." Later on, he inherits the position of Don and organizes an extravagant wedding ceremony for me. After seven years of marriage, I finally get pregnant, but the doctor tells me I need to undergo expensive treatment to keep my baby. I call Marco in a panic, but he doesn't even let me finish what I have to say before replying, "Same rules as always—we'll decide the amount blind-box style. Pick a number from one to nine, and I'll give you the corresponding allowance." "I pick one." Marco has always told me that box number one has the most money. Three seconds later, I get a bank transfer of exactly 9.90 dollars. "It's not my fault. Alessia discovered that you always choose one. You messed up. Choose a different number next time." Alessia Lombardo has taken a bullet for Marco three times before. She's also obsessed with blind boxes. Marco constantly feels indebted to her, so he plays along with her, letting her decide everything in the Cossini family with blind boxes. But of course, he won't be that stingy with me, his own wife. Feeling hopeful still, I try to tell him that I'm pregnant, but the call cuts off. A sharp pain shoots through my abdomen, and my vision goes dark. I lose consciousness. When my eyes open once more, I find that too much time has been wasted. I've lost the baby. In my grief, I wipe my tears away and book a flight abroad that leaves in seven days. I don't love you anymore, Marco.

On the day of our wedding, my fiance Thomas Warsh was killed in a car accident on the way there. His adopted sister rushed toward me, clutching his ashes, accusing me of being a jinx who brought him misfortune. I was drowning in grief when a line of floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes. [You must remain a widow for three years for your deceased husband. After three years, he will be reincarnated and return to love you again!] [Don’t ever remarry. Otherwise, the male lead will never rest in peace, and you will suffer for the rest of your life!] That was when I learned that my fiancé and I were the hero and heroine of a novel. Only by following the spoilers in the comments and completing the storyline could I reunite with him. I did not remarry. Guided by the comments, I remained a widow for three years, and then another three. However, it was not until I suddenly died from a severe illness that I discovered the truth–the comments had all been written by Thomas. He had faked his death, changed his appearance, married his adopted sister, and fed me endless empty promises so I would continue to slave away for the Warsh family. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day before the wedding.

I've been in a secret relationship with Declan Gibson for five years, and I've tried to seduce him more times than I can count. Yet, when I stand in front of him in my birthday suit and a pair of bunny ears, all he does is worry that I'll catch a cold and wrap me in a blanket. I used to think his restraint came from being the mafia don, that he was saving our first time for our wedding night. However, one month before the ceremony, he secretly plans the city's grandest fireworks show to celebrate his childhood sweetheart's birthday. They hug and share a slice of cake in public. That night, they check into a hotel. … The next morning, I watch them leave together. That's when I realize Declan is not restrained. He just doesn't love me, so I walk out of the hotel. I call my parents. "Dad, I've broken up with Declan. I'll marry into the Sullivan family as planned." My father is stunned. "I thought you were madly in love with Declan. Why did you break up? I heard Bryson can't have children. You've always loved kids. What will you do once you marry him?" "It's fine," I reply, disheartened. "We can always adopt."

Fourth in Series. Many familiar faces are re-united, as you see their children grown and preparing to take their positions in pack or find their place in life. Just like their parents, the group are incredibly close. The many friendships are intertwined, but will things become complicated as love has potential to bloom or unexpected matebonds form. But, sure as the moon is to rise, you know fate will take them on unexpected twist, after unexpected twist… but, did fate have a greater plan all along?

Edward and I held our engagement party in Las Vegas. Everything seemed perfect—until someone suggested a game of Truth or Dare. One of Edward's female coworkers looked me straight in the eye. "I am pregnant. It is your fiancé's baby." Laughter burst out around us. Everyone thought it was a joke—except Edward. After the trip, we returned home. He looked uneasy. "I'm the father of Juliet's baby," he admitted. "Don't overthink it. We were on a business trip and got too drunk with a client. We accidentally spent the night together. "She is from a British aristocratic family. Reputation matters a lot to her. She will never marry me. She only wants to have the baby and raise it alone." "So what are you saying?" I asked. "I am the father. I have to take responsibility. I will stay in the apartment I rented for her and take care of her pregnancy on weekdays, and come home on weekends. "Our wedding will be delayed. We will get married after the baby is borned." I gave a small smile. So he had it all planned out. He was just here to inform me. He let out a sigh of relief, picked up his Rimowa suitcase, and walked out without looking back. I wiped the tears off my face and began packing away all the memories of our relationship. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. The voice on the other end sounded messy and emotional. "Margot, I freaking love you. Don't marry him. Marry me instead." I froze for a second, then replied, "Okay."