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“I’ll give you anything you want but you need to leave.” Daniel muttered to me the second time making my leg wobbled, I fell infront of him. He looked at me but no trace of concerns in his eyes. “Cynthia, you should name your price and leave as soon as possible.” he muttered, his voice filled with so much ease as if I meant nothing to him all these years—as if the whole three years of being together were absolutely nothing! After begging frantically, he threw a cheque at me, his eyes impatient. With tears in my eyes, I looked at Daniel but he didn't even budge. Slowly, I picked myself up, took my box, tore his cheque to his and left his home—if he could threw me out even after three years of peaceful marriage then he could as well hold his cheque. I didn't marry him for his money and I'd prove to him that I was worth more than the money on his cheque.

It was only meant to be a one-time, one-night solution to ONE problem. Okay, that's a lie. There are two problems: #1) I'm broke. Through no fault of my own, other than I fell down a rabbit hole so deep, I'm now buried in my sister's debt—with my name, Nikki St. Claire, stamped across it. #2) I honestly need a reprieve from my overly mundane, personal life. So when I stumble upon a highly exclusive and extremely secretive auction, I'm both intrigued and potentially saved, given I've left no "box" of what I'll do unchecked on the interview questionnaire, which exponentially increases the reserve that's set on me. Only thing is… The man who buys me turns out to be Jameson Richards. A drool-worthy billionaire bachelor. Also… My boss. How we got this tangled up in each other is a story unto itself. What we do once I accept his one-night contract is a tale riddled with lust and love.

When Julian, the true heir by blood, was finally brought back to the Family, my cold-blooded adoptive parents cast me aside. They sent me to "The Abyss"—a clandestine hellhole where billionaires and mafia bosses paid to hunt, rape, and slaughter human prey. No matter how humiliatingly I begged for mercy, I remained locked in an iron cage, passed around as prey for those bloodthirsty beasts. Days later, a photo of me—covered in whip marks, kneeling like a dog with a chain around my neck—made its way to my beloved fiancée, Vivienne. Standing before the press, the untouchable Mafia Princess sneered, her voice dripping with disgust. "He’s pathetic and utterly filthy. The Valenti family would never align with such trash. I'll be marrying Julian instead." On cue, the Russo family officially disowned me, permanently stripping me of their name. After I was tortured to death, the wedding of the century commenced, broadcast live worldwide to celebrate the alliance between two major mafia families. But right then, my "wedding gift" was delivered. When the box was opened, the entire room went dead silent.

I've been married to Ryland Webster for eight years. In that time, we got divorced nine times. I met every woman he dated after our wedding. Whenever he grew tired of someone and wanted out, I became his favorite excuse. "If you marry him, you'll end up like me," I told them. "Cleaning up his messes, signing divorce papers over and over, and walking away with nothing." On New Year's Eve, I sat beside another woman he'd abandoned, handing her tissues as she cried. Across the city, Ryland was setting off a fireworks display for his newest girlfriend. As I watched her sob through an entire box of tissues, I saw a younger version of myself. For the first time, I asked Ryland for a divorce. He looked genuinely confused. "We'll be remarried in three days," he said. "Do we really need to go through this again?" I smiled and shook my head. No. Not this time. Ryland, I'm done waiting for you.

In her past life, Lindsay and the adopted daughter of the Harper family were kidnapped together. Tragically, her biological parents, five older brothers, and childhood sweetheart all chose to save the adopted daughter first, resulting in Lindsay's death. Reborn, Lindsay decided to sever ties with her family and break up with her childhood sweetheart. Determined to survive, she set out to conquer the entertainment industry. Her eldest brother, a powerful CEO in the entertainment world, soon witnessed her star studio rise to the top of the industry. Her second brother, a top agent, saw her become the ace agent in the circle. Her third brother, a popular and talented singer, watched as one of her songs quickly topped the charts. Her fourth brother, a genius new director, found himself envious of her film’s box office success. Her fifth brother, a top young idol, saw her win numerous awards and become a top actress. Eventually, her biological parents and five brothers begged for forgiveness, filled with regret. Even her ex-boyfriend, now a renowned actor, begged for reconciliation. Lindsay, however, refused to forgive them.

When I was discharged from the psychiatric hospital, my brother and sister-in-law dropped everything to personally pick me up. Even my nephew, who had just finished his college entrance exams, arrived with a box of carrot cake he had waited in line all day to buy. His warm smile was the picture of innocence. “Auntie, congratulations on your discharge. With me here, you’ll never feel lonely again.” To outsiders, we were the perfect family—envied by all and even awarded the title of a local model family. But behind the facade of family bliss lay a very different story. On the very day my brother transferred the last of the family properties to me, I went live on social media. In front of an audience that idolized my so-called perfect family, I boasted about my "accomplishments." I conned my nephew into paying for a spot at an elite school, duped my sister-in-law into stepping into a scandalous club, and tricked my brother into losing everything he had worked for. “My brother has treated me with nothing but kindness. And I can only repay his kindness with betrayal.”

My wife's first love fell seriously ill. To save him, she gave away the kidney donor that was meant for me. Afraid I would cause a scene at the hospital, she locked me inside our home. Day after day, she stayed by his bedside, cooking for him, caring for him, never leaving his side. All she left for me was a box of stale biscuits… and expired milk. A month later, she finally opened the door. "Have you thought it through?" I looked at her, pale and desperate. "If I don't get that transplant, I'll die." "Why are you talking about dying?" she snapped. "You've endured this for so long already. A little more pain won't kill you. Are you trying to scare me?" "But Vincent is different. He's never been able to handle pain. Can't you be more understanding?" "Understand…" I nodded stiffly. Then, I walked out, without looking back. Only for her to be stabbed multiple times… yet still refuse to let go of my hand!

At the five-star hotel where the blind date was set, leftover takeout was complimentary. I liked their Australian lobster and Poule de Bresse en Vessie. I packed my own portion and even helped box up what my date hadn't finished. Just as I picked up the bags to leave, he grabbed me with a dark look and demanded, "Jennifer, we agreed to split the bill. What gives you the right to take all the food?" I explained that he wouldn't be able to finish it anyway, and if we didn't take it, it would just be thrown away. He let out a cold laugh. "I paid for that food. Even if I toss it, that's none of your concern. Looks to me like you've been waiting for a chance to take advantage. I didn't expect you to be this kind of person. "I'd rather feed these leftovers to a dog than give them to you! And don't bother contacting me again. That petty, small-minded behavior of yours is disgusting." I pressed my lips together, at a complete loss for words. After all… this five-star hotel belonged to my family.

She was hired to stand at the altar. She was never supposed to say I do. Naomi Bridges needed rent money, not a husband. But when a mysterious woman pays her to be a "stand-in bride" for a private ceremony, Naomi asks zero questions and signs every paper put in front of her. Big mistake. Because the ceremony is real. The groom is real. And Adrian Holt, billionaire, is now her very real, very furious husband. With one ancient inheritance clause standing between Adrian and everything his father built, the marriage cannot be dissolved. Not for a year. Not without destroying him. So she moves into his mansion, survives his ice-cold mother, outlasts his beautiful ex and quietly begins to wonder why a photograph of her dead mother sits in a Holt family box dated twenty years ago. Then the real bride turns up dead. And someone sends Adrian a video that points directly at his wife. Naomi came for rent money. She stayed for answers. But the deeper she digs, the clearer it becomes that she wasn't chosen by accident... She was chosen because of who she really is. Some marriages are mistakes. Some mistakes are destiny.

He opened the box and read the letter inside. It said: I married you to fulfill my dreams, but little did I know that you would become the man of my dreams, Alessandro. Fate has its ways of weaving two people together and separating them as well. I just wanted to say, thank you, for everything. And sorry. Sorry that I couldn't gain your trust. Sorry that the only thing that you experience when you see my face is, quoting you, pain, betrayal, and regret. But you can stay happy now since this is where our journey ends. Lastly, a confession, every touch, and every kiss meant something to me… With affection, Your Tesoro. As the letter slipped from between his fingers and flew down the sky-high building, he laughed, hysterically, knowing that this was the end of their marriage. Amber Williams, an ambitious twenty-three-year-old woman with dreams of establishing an art gallery spins herself in a web of secrets, drama, and lies when she agrees to a contracted marriage with the cold-hearted mafia boss, Alessandro Bianchi. Will she melt his cold heart with her fire? Or will the flames burn them both?