Art Of Homemaking

She was just the nanny. Quiet, kind-hearted, and desperately in love with the children she cared for. He was a grieving widower with too many secrets and a heart locked in silence. And when her world fell apart, his offer came with one condition—marriage. After walking away from her first love and discovering a truth that shattered her dreams of motherhood, Monet Palmer finds herself caught between a life she planned and the one she never expected. The Abbott house was only supposed to be a job—but somewhere between bedtime stories and tear-stained lullabies, it became home. Now, with a wedding she’s not sure she wants, and a man she’s afraid to love, Monet is forced to confront the one question that haunts her: What happens when the heart chooses a family… but not the groom? In this emotional slow-burn romance, secrets, healing, and unexpected affection collide. Because sometimes, the most powerful kind of love… is the one you never saw coming.

After five years of marrying into the Loween City in place of my sister, the Gambling King finally passed away. My son and my ex-husband—at long last—gave me permission to fake my death and return to them. But they laid down three conditions. First: kneel before Vivian Gray, apologize for framing her all those years ago, and surrender my place as Mrs. Hartwell. Second: work as a live-in maid for my own son for five years, and never show up at his school in my former identity as the reigning queen of the nightlife scene—lest I embarrass him. Third: drink an abortifacient to destroy my fertility forever, as recompense for the infertility I once caused Vivian. "My lady, you've endured five whole years just to earn your freedom—how dare they humiliate you like this?" My maid's eyes were red, burning with indignation on my behalf. But I just tipped my head back and swallowed the death-faking pill, letting the servants toss my "corpse" into the overgrown brambles beyond the city limits. Then, from the mud and weeds, I crawled back to the Hartwell mansion—one knee at a time. Day one, I knelt as ordered and signed over custody of my son without a fight. Day three, I locked myself in the storage closet and stopped showing up at school to pick my son up like I used to. I also stopped pestering him to call me "Mom." Even when Vivian—knowing full well I'm terrified of the dark—deliberately trapped me in the basement, I bore it in silence. By the time my ex-husband Nathan Hartwell saw me again, I was barely hanging on. For the first time, a flicker of panic crossed his face as he carried me out of that basement. But my son just sneered. "It's just another stunt to win our sympathy." When he caught the tears welling in Vivian's eyes, Nathan coldly dropped me to the ground. "Always scheming against Vivian with your dirty tricks—aren't you tired of it?" Right then, the system chimed in my ear: [Please proceed to the "disposable ex-wife death node" to complete the story line and return to your original world.] I let out a quiet laugh. "Not tired at all." And with that, I turned and dove straight into the swimming pool beside me.

When simple, demure Blanche Rousseau suddenly finds herself responsible for her late father`s estate and crushing debt, she has nowhere to turn. Her rich elusive and fastidious neighbor, Adam takes pity on her and agrees to hire her as his live-in housekeeper. Blanche must live under Adam`s domineering control in all facets of her life. What she doesn't expect is how much she`ll like it...

After following my grandfather abroad for five years of training, he finally entrusted me with the family authority—something he had given me with complete satisfaction. But my stepmother and my three younger stepbrothers were anything but pleased. Ever since I returned home, they had been blasting those ridiculous "real heiress versus fake heiress" dramas throughout the house, day after day. Sometimes openly, sometimes in veiled remarks, they hinted that I didn't resemble my father at all. On the day of my twentieth birthday—my official debut before the public—they even brought in a complete stranger and tried to brand me as the impostor. My stepmother looked at me, the corner of her lips curling in disdain. "Where did this counterfeit come from? Even if you're wearing a stolen gown, you can't hide that cheap, shabby air about you." My three younger stepbrothers shoved me to the ground, shielding the girl beside them—the one wearing my family's heirloom necklace. "We only have one sister, and that's Camellia! Wherever you came from, go back there!" In an instant, the guests' mocking gazes all converged on me. And in the very next second, I stepped forward and slapped my stepmother across the face. "If anyone should be leaving, it's you. Take a good look at what this is!" Then, the moment they saw what I was holding in my hand, the entire room fell into stunned silence.

*Akira*, a talented artist, and *Taro*, a successful businessman, meet by chance in Tokyo. Despite their different backgrounds, they connect over their shared love of art and nature. As they spend more time together, their bond grows stronger, and they realize they've found their perfect match. Through life's ups and downs, they support each other's passions and dreams, creating a beautiful love story.

A young, beautiful she-wolf moves into the house opposite mine. She always strikes up conversations with me, her tone filled with enthusiasm. "You and Mr. Howl have such a great relationship. Even after seven years of marriage, he still kisses you goodbye when he leaves. It’s so sweet." She blinks playfully before continuing, "I have a friend who constantly complains about his mate. He says every time he kisses her, it feels like he's kissing a fat pig. Her scent disgusts him, and he can't even get hard when she's around. "And at night… just the sight of her belly rolls and sagging skin makes him want to throw up." I don’t particularly like this she-wolf, but I still offer her a polite smile. That night, however, when my mate kisses me, he suddenly freezes—then pushes me away and runs to the bathroom to vomit.