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After Pierce Emery and I got back together, I started "renting him out." Every time his old flame, Daphne Roach, called him away, I stopped crying and causing scenes like before. I charged by the hour instead. Ten grand an hour during the day. Twenty at night. Triple on holidays. Three months later, my account was up almost two million dollars. Pierce had promised to help me pick a dress for a banquet, but Daphne called him crying, saying she'd sliced her hand while cooking. I didn't even look up. I just held out my phone with the payment screen open. One night, I came down with a brutal fever. While Pierce was driving me to the hospital, his phone rang again. Daphne. He stared at the screen for a long second before answering. Her voice came through shaky and tearful. "Pierce, the thunder's so loud. I can't sleep. Can you come stay with me?" I quietly pulled out an umbrella and told him to let me out at the next intersection. He looked at me like he wanted to explain something, but I just smiled. "Don't forget to transfer the money." The same thing happened again on the day our daughter went in for her routine checkup. Except this time, she was the one asking him for money.

During a long holiday, my husband booked flights for a family vacation. On the way to the airport, I suddenly saw numbers appearing on everyone’s head. The numbers on my husband’s head indicated sixty years, but my parents and I had only six hours indicated on our heads. While I was puzzled over the meaning of those numbers, I noticed that the driver next to us only had six seconds indicated over his head through the car window. Five… Four… Three… Two… One. When the number turned zero, a massive truck immediately rammed into the car next to us. I saw flickers of fire, flesh and blood exploding before my eyes. People were screaming for help, but I could not hear anything. I trembled as cold sweat drenched my entire body. It was because my flight would be taking off in six hours.

Victor’s private jet has barely cleared the runway when Amelia gives in to the one man she’s never allowed to touch: her husband’s son. She has everything money can buy, except the intense, raw passion her body craves. Ethan has the fierce intensity that finally gives it to her. For nineteen stolen days they turn the penthouse into their personal playground: the marble island where she loses herself in his embrace, the glass shower where he holds her dripping wet, the marital bed where they lose all control night after night while Victor is away thirty thousand feet in the air. She was a bored trophy wife. Now she’s obsessed, counting the hours until her husband leaves again, because only Ethan can break through her walls, ruin her composure, and make her forget she ever belonged to anyone else. Nineteen days. No limits. No mercy. And when Victor comes home, she’ll greet him with the memory of Ethan still burning inside her, smiling like the perfect wife.

Scarlett Voss has one rule: get in, get paid, get out. No attachments. No exceptions. No mercy. When a mysterious client offers her the biggest payday of her life to seduce billionaire Xavier Blackwell and steal a file from his private server, she doesn’t hesitate. Men like Xavier are easy targets — too powerful to expect betrayal, too arrogant to see it coming. Except Xavier Blackwell isn’t either of those things. He knew about Scarlett before she walked through his door. He knew her name, her game, and exactly who sent her. What he didn’t know — what no amount of preparation could have warned him about — was how completely she would dismantle every wall he’d spent years building. What neither of them knew was how deep the danger truly ran. Because the man who hired Scarlett isn’t just a client with a secret. He’s a senator with blood on his hands, a confirmation hearing in twenty-seven days, and a willingness to destroy anyone who stands between him and untouchability. He’s already killed once to protect himself. He’ll do it again without hesitation. He’s also Xavier’s uncle. And he chose Scarlett specifically — not just for her skills, but because he saw what would happen between them before either of them did. Now Scarlett and Xavier are running out of time, running out of trust, and running toward each other in a situation designed to make both impossible. The con was supposed to be simple. The truth is anything but. Some lies protect you. Some truths destroy you. And some people are worth burning everything down for.

After three miscarriages for Xavier Lowe, I see it—my mother-in-law has three years left, my father-in-law nine years, and my sister-in-law two years. I say nothing. After the third miscarriage, my mother-in-law blames me, calling me a curse who "kills" children. My sister-in-law sneers, saying she almost died in a car crash the year I married Xavier—as if my bad luck dragged her down. My mother-in-law snaps, "She can't even keep a child. It must be because she's cursed!" Xavier just stands there, silent. He doesn't say a single word for me. I know that, deep down, he believes that I bring bad luck. Maybe it's also because he already has someone else—his secretary, Yvette Snyder. His mother has always liked her better, and he clung to her the night I lost my third child. I don't explain because I know the truth will only destroy them faster. On my 28th birthday, I catch a glimpse of my own countdown in the mirror. On that day, I take a leave of absence. I go to the funeral home and pick out an urn—pure white, just like the wedding dress I once wore. Wearing a beautiful floral dress, I text Xavier, asking him to meet me at the lake where we first met ten years ago. I wait from daylight until nightfall as my countdown ticks to zero. I die, and he never shows up.

Ten years of devotion. Ten years of playing the "perfect" wife. All for a lie. I spent a decade as a ghost in my own home, scrubbing floors for a husband who never loved me and raising children who treated me like the help. But when I discover the ultimate betrayal—a forged marriage certificate and a plot that murdered my parents—my heart finally shatters. Trying to confront the people who betrayed me, I was murdered. But instead of dying, I wake up to the past. It’s June 14th. The morning of my wedding. My parents are still alive, my "loving" fiancé is downstairs plotting his first theft, and my twin sister is hiding her evil thoughts behind her innocent smile. I have less than 24 hours before the "I do" that ruined my life. Less than 24 hours to move millions in assets, stop a fatal car crash, and expose the affairs.