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Rachel Larson was adamant about marrying me, and she spent ten years stealing my heart. On the night before our wedding, I overheard her conversation with her friend. "You're marrying Leonardo? What about your side piece?" A moment of silence later, Rachel answered, "That guy? He's just a cheap replacement. Leonardo's the real deal. Don't compare my side piece to him. If he stays put and keeps his mouth shut, I might let him stay around. Leonardo's a broad-minded man. He won't mind." The side piece did not stay put. In fact, he caused a scene at the wedding the next day. He shoved me off the stage, but the woman who was supposed to marry me darted over to his side instead. Why? He was holding a piece of broken glass against his throat. Gutturally, he roared, "Choose! Me or him?" Panicked, Rachel kicked me away despite my injuries, and she roared, "Get out of the way! I need to take him to the hospital! If anything happens to him, I'll kill you!" She didn't need to wait that long. My heart died right there and then. … That night, I bought a flight ticket that would take me abroad and left her.

When my ex-husband, Hanson Rowse, got remarried, I jumped into the ocean with our ten-year-old daughter, Tess Rowse, in my arms. The police called Hanson and my parents. The wedding reception was cut short, and they all rushed over. My soul hung in the air above it all, watching as Tess was pulled from the water. The sight of her hit like a blade to the chest. At the hospital, my parents looked at her with nothing but cold indifference. My brother, Edward Wells, didn't hesitate. He stepped forward and slapped her hard across the face. "You're just like your mother! Always causing trouble and pulling cheap stunts like this just to get attention." Hanson's fists clenched. He scanned the area, and when he couldn't see me anywhere, anger spilled into his eyes. "Where's Melody? She picked my wedding day to pull this stunt, and now she won't even show her face? If she really wanted to die, why leave behind this burden?" At his words, Tess suddenly moved. She stumbled toward the window, climbed up, and before anyone could react, she jumped. The room went dead silent for a heartbeat. Then, the screaming started. What they didn't know was this: the first thing Tess and I learned at that reform school was obedience.

On the night of her eighteenth birthday, Nyx’s world shattered. Her parents celebrated her twin sister and ignored her entirely, a final insult after years of coldness and favoritism. Humiliated and aching to escape, she walked straight into Basque—the city’s most dangerous club. There, under flashing lights and the pull of reckless music, she caught the eye of a man everyone feared—the ruthless mafia boss who owned the night. One drink, one touch, one reckless decision… and by morning, he was gone. A month later, Nyx learned that she was pregnant. Her family’s rejection turned vicious, and she was cast out with nothing but her shame and the child growing inside her. Six years of struggle followed—cheap apartments, dead-end jobs, and a daughter who became her only reason to fight. Then fate threw him back into her life. A chance encounter. A cold stare. A card pressed into her hand. Days later, tragedy struck—her little girl was left clinging to life after a hit-and-run. Desperate and out of options, Nyx went to the only man who could save her… unaware he was the father. His price? "Give me your body,and I'll give you money" Now, Nyx must decide to sell her body to the devil who destroyed her, or watch the only person she loves slip away. But in the shadows of power and lust, nothing is as simple as a deal. And the devil always collects more than you owe.

The words echoed, a promise she wore like a blindfold. “Give me a chance to prove to you that love is beautiful.” Kensington Darley had believed him. At twenty-six, she was the beautiful, trusting daughter of a gilded cage, and she had willingly traded her own life’s map for the one drawn by her boyfriend. His choices became her destiny; his whispered needs, her sacred law. Until the moment his love demanded her degradation. He didn't ask her to empty a savings account. He didn't ask her to sell the family jewels. He asked for her body, for her dignity, to be sold piece by devastating piece. The debt. It was a cold, unforgiving beast, and the only currency powerful enough to silence it was Kensington's unwilling performance in front of a camera. Every forced smile, every feigned moan, was a knife-edge decision she made in the name of love. She despised the spotlights, the sterile sets, the shame that clung to her like cheap perfume—but she did it. Because she loved him. But as she watches the man she is saving—the man who allowed her to be lost—a single, poisonous question begins to bloom in the darkness of her despair: Does he love her back? If the answer is no, what becomes of a woman who has sacrificed everything for a lie? And how will Kensington Darley ever learn to trust a single word, let alone love, again?

At the celebration where Lorenzo Alvarez is crowned the new mafia boss, his men arrange a few performances. A dancer in a backless top and short skirt twists around the pole under the lights. "Don't look," he murmurs, covering my eyes with his hand. "This kind of cheap entertainment isn't worthy of you." His men jump in immediately. "Lorenzo still spoils Ms. Valenti after all these years. That kind of devotion is rare. We're so jealous." "A man as loyal and single-minded as Lorenzo is hard to find." I rest a hand on my belly, planning to tell him tonight that I am pregnant. But when I return from the restroom, I see the same man who had just held me in his arms leaning back in his chair while the dancer straddles his lap. Lorenzo slips his business card and a thick fold of cash into the waistband of her skirt. He laughs, relaxed and unbothered. "Isabella is wonderful, sure, but life needs a little passion. This ragazza is just something new. A bit of fun. "Keep your mouths shut. Don't go running to Isabella and upset her. Otherwise, you'll have a problem." Cold rushes through me. I do not approach or confront Lorenzo. I simply take out my phone and answer the email I have been avoiding for days. "I agree to participate in the confidential experiment."

There's this thing that my mom keeps repeating to me. "I love my children equally. I will always treat you and Brielle the same." It's true that I get everything my sister, Brielle Montgomery, has since we were children. If Brielle has a new backpack, I do too. If Brielle goes for piano lessons, I'll be given the opportunity to attend the same lessons. When I go home for the holidays, my mom digs out two beautiful shopping bags sporting luxury brand logos. With a smile on her face, she hands them to us. "I specifically went to the store to buy you nice coats. Both of you get a coat each. I'll have you know that coats with wool linings are worth thousands of dollars. I don't even have the heart to wear one of these coats. I only bought these coats for you two." As I gaze at the expensive-looking coat, I feel warmth surging into my heart. But when I try on the coat, I feel a weird, scratchy sensation coming from my armpits. After flipping the coat inside out, I notice a few strands of long, dry hair tightly entangled among the seams. I even smell a faint trace of mold mixed with a strong hint of rot that can't be covered up by the cheap fragrance on the coat.

Allysa Hall is a 25-year-old brazen yet beautiful lady. Heir to her father’s big company but due to her elder step-sister’s scheme she lost the favor of her father. She was called many names, the black sheep of the respectable Hall family. She once believed that she was the luckiest girl in the world having both parents that love her, but the moment her mother died everything changed. Her father, Andrew Hall remarried three years after his wife's death and it was the start of Allysa’s nightmare. She was forced to restart her life. Finding relief and temporary happiness she found herself in a cheap bar recommended by one of her friends. She drank and partied till dawn to forget all the bad things that happened. Being single for almost all of her life she decided to make a bold move on the hot guy sitting next to her. “Hi, there! Can you grant this miserable woman who’s never been in a relationship, a favor?” Allysa asked pretty boldly, cheeks flushed red due to alcohol. The man looked up from his drink and saw a drunk lady on his left side. “What?” he asked irritably. “Can I kiss you?” Allysa asked with a grin on her beautiful face. Little did she know that due to her impulsiveness, she had no idea that her miserable life would turn upside-down.

On our fifth dating anniversary, my boyfriend, Luke Bolton, gives me a cheap bracelet worth less than a hundred dollars. On the same night, he splurges ten million dollars on a yacht for his first love, Cindy Gale. I refuse to accept this, and he accuses me of making a scene. "I gave Cindy that gift to boost the company's stock price, not because I still have feelings for her," he says. "You're poor, and I still promised to marry you. Isn't that enough? This was actually your last test, Elisa Gray, but you failed it." I break up with him, and he immediately proposes to Cindy. Five years after that, we meet again at a luxury hotel during a business summit. His company is about to become an industry giant, and Cindy is holding onto his arm. When he sees me, I'm standing in a fountain, all drenched and disheveled. "Elisa," Luke sneers. "When you turned me down back then, did it ever cross your mind that you might end up worse than a homeless person? "Don't think acting pitiful here will make me feel sorry and take you back." I ignore him. My son's cherished blue diamond was a birthday gift from his father, and he accidentally dropped it into the fountain. He's so upset that he's about to cry, and I have to find it right away.

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.

Someone started a thread on a forum asking, [Do men become stingy with their wives after marriage?] The replies were full of women complaining about how cheap and calculating their husbands were. My husband, however, went in the opposite direction. After we got married, he handed me his payroll card to manage and kept only a few dozen dollars a month for his own expenses, as though he had truly given everything to me and to this family. I shook my head and was about to respond when my mother-in-law's call interrupted me. "Chloe, Josh's god sister is sick. She needs $4,500." My husband immediately slipped an arm around my shoulders and assured me, "Don't worry. We'll use my salary. You won't have to pay a cent." "Alright," I said. Seeing how certain he was, I transferred one dollar to him on the spot and added a note: Medical expenses transferred. When my mother-in-law saw the transfer, she flew into a rage, sharply accusing me of being jealous and petty, even withholding money meant to save a life. I remained unmoved. "That's all there is on the card." She completely lost her temper, threatening to come over and audit how many kickbacks I had supposedly pocketed over the years. I agreed to settle the accounts. That was when my husband suddenly lost his enthusiasm.