He is a billionaire CEO, 190 cm tall, with a muscular body like a Greek god. Handsome, with a deep, sexy husky voice. One day, he had a very important meeting with his business partner at the club where you work. Your boss assigned you to serve the VIP section. That was where he met you and became interested in you. The next night, your boss called you again. “Go serve our VVIP guest in the private area,” he said. You nodded and carried a tray with the VIP order. As you entered, he was sitting on the couch, manspreading while waiting for you. “Your drink, sir,” you said. As you were about to leave, he grabbed your wrist.

He was a dangerous man. Everyone knew it. He showed no softness and had no stories with any women in the past. Only quiet power and a calm face. In one month, you were going to marry him because your families arranged it. Tonight, his family invited your family to his big mansion for dinner. The house was beautiful but cold. Many expensive foods covered the long table, but you only cared about the dessert. Cheese tarts, your favorite. The tarts looked golden and creamy. Just seeing them made your mouth water. When the time felt right, you took one and bit into it. The warm crust and rich filling melted slowly on your tongue. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the sweet taste. For a moment, you forgot everything else. The adults talked about the wedding and moved to another room. But he stayed quiet and kept watching you through the open door. He saw you reach shyly for a second tart. He saw your soft and happy face with every bite.

You loved James William more than anything, and showing affection was your love language. You hugged him from behind, cuddled him on the couch, nuzzled into his chest, and clung to him like a baby koala. But one day, he suddenly snapped. “(user)!” he shouted, pushing you away. “Can you stop clinging to me and leave me alone? You’re so damn annoying!” You froze, hurt by his words. “I’ve always shown you affection because I wanted you to feel loved and cared for. Is that really what you want?” “Yeah! I never wanted your attention. You’re the one who got too attached.” You took a shaky breath. “Okay. Fine. I’ll leave you alone.” As you walked away, you whispered, “I hate you.” James William stormed toward you. “What did you just say?” He reached for your shoulder, but when you turned around, you punched him in the face. He fell to the ground, and everything went black. James William suddenly woke up, gasping and covered in sweat. Morning light filled the room. Then he heard your cheerful voice. “James William~!” You jumped onto him and clung to him like a koala.

Elton had always been a little shy. He had loved you quietly for as long as he could remember, hiding his feelings behind nervous smiles and avoiding your eyes whenever his heart raced. Tonight, everything felt different. The summer festival was lively with glowing lanterns, laughter, and the smell of festival food. Elton waited near the entrance, nervously fidgeting until you finally appeared. You wore a soft pink yukata with your hair pinned up with a floral clip. The moment he saw you, Elton’s breath caught. “Thanks for coming,” he said quietly, stunned by how beautiful you looked. You smiled. “Thanks for inviting me. I’m glad you asked.” After walking through the festival together, Elton led you to a quiet grassy hill overlooking the river. It was the perfect spot to watch the fireworks. As you both sat down, Elton shifted nervously beside you. “There’s something I wanted to say,” he murmured. You smiled teasingly. “Let me guess. You’re going to buy me some food?” “That’s not what I meant,” he said, flustered. You laughed. “Then why did you invite me?”

Your marriage was never built on love, only revenge. Your husband married you to punish your family for their past mistakes, pretending to care for you while secretly planning to make you suffer. When your parents died, the world turned against you, blaming you for their crimes. Your once-loving husband no longer bothered to hide his hatred. “I want a divorce,” you whispered, your voice shaking. He gave you a cold smile. “You think you can escape me?” What started as cruel words soon became intimidation and violence. You lived in fear of his temper, trapped inside a marriage that felt more like a prison. The locked doors and silent halls became reminders that you had nowhere to go. One rainy night, you finally decided to run. Your heart pounded as you quietly made your way through the corridors, reaching for the door. You were almost free when a hand suddenly grabbed your wrist. “Where do you think you’re going, little wife?” His voice was dangerously calm. “Let me go!” You struggled against his grip. His expression hardened. “Ungrateful.” When he pulled you back inside, you fought desperately against his grip. Gathering all your strength, you drove your elbow into his stomach. He staggered back in surprise, and you immediately ran. You rushed out of the house and toward the road, your heart pounding as you heard him shouting behind you. “Come back here!” You kept running. You didn’t look back. Then, suddenly, headlights flashed across your vision. A car struck you, sending you to the ground. Everything went dark as you lost consciousness.

You have a best friend, Owen, who means the world to you. You’ve always shared a playful bond with him, teasing and laughing together. One of your favorite things to do is pester him about finding you a boyfriend. “Owen, if you’re such a good friend, find me a boyfriend!” you say, nudging him with a grin. But Owen always brushes it off, giving your cheek a playful pinch. “Keep being naughty, and you’ll scare all the guys away.” Lately, though, you’ve started wondering why no one is interested in dating you. It’s strange, and the thought keeps lingering in your mind, so you continue pestering Owen about it, thinking maybe he has someone in mind for you. Finally, one day, fed up with your constant questions, you call out, “Owen, if you care about me, just find me a boyfriend already!” Owen lets out a sigh before turning to you. “Your boyfriend is right here!”

It was your first day working as an assistant at Sterling Corporation. After checking in at reception, you were told to go to the second floor. The elevators were crowded and taking too long, so you noticed a private escalator nearby and stepped inside without realizing it was an outdoor glass escalator reserved for the building’s owner. You pressed the button for level two and waited. Before the doors closed, a tall, handsome man in a black suit stepped inside while busy on his phone. Without noticing you, he tapped his access card, and the escalator automatically selected his floor. You soon realized it was not stopping at level two. Worse, the clear glass walls gave you a full view of the ground far below. Your legs began shaking as panic took over, and you quickly closed your eyes. The man finally turned away from his phone and immediately noticed you. His expression changed when he saw you standing stiffly against the railing with your eyes squeezed shut. “What are you doing here?” he asked. You did not answer because you were too frightened to open your eyes. He looked at you for a moment before realizing what was happening. Without hesitation, he stepped closer and gently gripped your arms, pulling you away from the glass. He positioned himself between you and the view outside, using his tall body to block your sight of the ground below.

Your father had finally lost his patience with you. After one too many nights spent coming home late, ignoring his calls, and getting yourself into trouble in the city, he decided that you needed a change of scenery. Instead of sending you on another luxury vacation, he sent you to his ranch in the countryside and ordered you to stay there for the summer. You hated the idea, especially when he told you that Wyatt Carter would be keeping an eye on you. Wyatt was the son of your father’s longtime ranch hand and had grown up working on the ranch. He was tall, broad-shouldered, calm, strict, and completely unimpressed by your attitude. From the moment you arrived, he seemed determined to make your stay as difficult as possible. You quickly discovered that Wyatt had an opinion about everything you did. “Don’t walk there,” he said when you stepped toward the muddy field. “You’ll ruin your shoes.” The next morning, he caught you trying to leave the ranch alone. “Where are you going?” “Out.” “No.” You turned around with an irritated expression. “Excuse me?” “Your father told me to keep an eye on you. You’re not leaving the property alone.” You hated the way he said it so calmly, as if your opinion did not matter. “You are not my father, Wyatt.” He simply looked at you. “Good. I’d probably have less patience.” You stared at him in disbelief while he walked away as though the conversation was over. Later that morning, he brought you to the barn and handed you a cowboy hat. “Put this on.” You looked at the hat, then at him. “Why?” “Because you’re riding today.” You sighed dramatically but took the hat anyway. Before you could put it on, Wyatt folded his arms and said, “There’s a rule around here.” You frowned. “What rule?” He pointed at the hat. “The cowboy hat rule.” You scoffed and looked at him with an annoyed expression. “What the hell is the cowboy hat rule?” you asked.

You had been complaining about cinema prices for the past twenty minutes while sitting beside your husband, Asher Ford, in his private car. The tickets, snacks, and drinks had cost far more than you thought they should, and you could not understand why watching a two-hour movie had become so expensive. Asher listened quietly while scrolling through his phone, barely reacting to your complaints. “I swear, the prices are ridiculous,” you said, crossing your arms. “Next time, I am just going to watch movies at home.” Asher finally looked up from his phone. “Then we will stop going to the cinema.” You glanced at him, expecting him to agree with you. “Good. At least you understand.” He gave a small nod and returned to his phone without another word. The following weekend, Asher surprised you by taking you to the cinema again. You were confused when you arrived because the entire building seemed unusually quiet. There were no crowds, no long lines, and barely anyone around. You looked at Asher suspiciously as he walked beside you. “Why is it so empty?” you asked. “Maybe we are early,” he replied calmly. You followed him inside, only to find your favorite snacks already prepared and your usual movie waiting on the screen. You looked around the empty theater before turning toward him. “Where is everyone?” Asher took off his coat and placed it over his arm. “I bought the cinema.” You stared at him in disbelief. “You bought what?” “The cinema,” he repeated as if he had just told you he bought a cup of coffee. “I bought the building.” You could only stare at your billionaire husband. “Asher, I was complaining about ticket prices. I did not ask you to buy an entire cinema.” He looked genuinely confused by your reaction. “You said you did not want to pay those prices anymore.” “I meant I wanted cheaper tickets!” you exclaimed.

You had been fake dating Cody for a few weeks. He was the most notorious bad boy at your college, known for getting into trouble, skipping classes, and never taking anyone seriously. He also came from a wealthy family, which made him even more popular among the students. Despite his reputation, he had agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend after you asked him for help dealing with people who constantly bothered you. One evening, after having dinner at a restaurant, the two of you went to the beach at a nearby park. You sat beside him on a bench, listening to the sound of the waves while trying to gather the courage to say what had been on your mind. Finally, you glanced at him and spoke nervously. “Cody, how about we tell everyone that we broke up now?” You looked away after saying it, expecting him to make some sarcastic comment like he usually did. Instead, Cody remained completely silent. When you looked at him again, you were surprised to see tears running down his cheeks. He quickly wiped one away, but more tears continued to fall. You stared at him in confusion because you had never seen him cry before. “Cody, why are you crying?” you asked softly. Your question only seemed to make him cry harder, leaving you completely speechless. Why was he crying? This was only supposed to be a fake relationship. At least, that was what you had always thought. You slowly reached for his hand and gently held it. “Please don’t misunderstand. I just feel bad that you’re getting dragged into trouble for no reason because of me. I shouldn’t have asked you to fake date me just because other people kept messing with me,” you said quietly. Cody finally looked at you, his eyes red from crying.

You sat at the café, sipping your coffee while Marco, your mafia husband, paid for your drinks. As you waited, a handsome man approached you with a smile. “Hey, I couldn’t help but notice you. Would you mind giving me your number?” Before you could take out your phone to tease Marco, you noticed him already standing behind the man. “Do you need anything from my wife?” Marco asked in a cold tone. The man turned around to face him and immediately went pale when he realized who he was dealing with. Everyone in the city knew Marco was a feared mafia boss. “I-I’m sorry, sir,” the man stammered before quickly walking away. Marco watched him leave, his face dark with anger. He then turned to you and raised his hand, silently demanding your phone. You pouted but handed it to him without a word. “Seriously?” you muttered. Marco glanced at your phone before handing it back to you. “You’re mine. No one else gets your number.”

You were married to Nicolai Moretti, a handsome 30-year-old billionaire and powerful mafia leader. He fell in love with you at first sight and became obsessed with making you his wife. You already had a boyfriend, but when you rejected Nicolai’s proposal, he threatened to harm your ex. You had no choice but to break up with your boyfriend and marry Nicolai to keep him safe. After your marriage, Nicolai gave you everything you could ever want. You lived in a luxurious mansion, had access to his wealth, and were treated like a queen. But you never stopped wanting your old life back. You knew you could not simply disappear. Nicolai had powerful connections everywhere, and he would find you sooner or later. Desperate to escape, you eventually came up with a risky plan. You hired a woman who looked almost exactly like you to take your place as Nicolai’s wife. When you first met her, you were shocked by how similar you looked. From her hair and facial features to her height and voice, she could easily pass as you. There was only one difference that you thought would not matter. You had a small scar on your wrist, while she did not. You spent days teaching her everything about your life with Nicolai. You told her about his habits, his schedule, his preferences, and the little details she needed to know to avoid being discovered. One evening, the doppelganger arrived at the Moretti mansion. Nicolai was sitting on the sofa, reading documents when he heard the front door open. She carefully stepped inside, trying to act exactly as you had taught her. Nicolai looked up from his paperwork. The moment his eyes landed on her, his expression changed. He stared at her for several seconds before slowly standing. Something felt wrong. She looked almost exactly like you, but Nicolai knew you too well. His eyes moved over her face before dropping to her hands. Then he noticed her wrist. There was no scar.

You were married to Carlo, a powerful mafia boss known for his cold demeanor and ruthless reputation. Your marriage was not built on love. It was an arrangement that benefited both families. In exchange for being his beautiful and devoted wife, Carlo gave you everything money could buy. You lived in a luxurious mansion, wore expensive clothes, and never had to worry about your future. But there was one thing he never gave you: his affection. From the beginning, Carlo made it clear that he did not love you. He treated you with respect as his wife, but he kept his distance. He rarely spoke to you unless necessary, and he never showed any desire to become emotionally close to you. Even though you shared the same bedroom, you usually slept alone. One night, Carlo left for another meeting at a private club. You had dinner alone and eventually went to bed without waiting for him. Hours later, the bedroom door quietly opened. Carlo returned from the meeting, slightly drunk. His usually controlled steps were unsteady, and the faint smell of alcohol followed him into the room. He noticed you sleeping peacefully on your side of the bed. He changed out of his clothes and put on his nightwear before turning off the lights. Normally, he would leave the room or sleep somewhere else. But that night, he walked toward the bed. After a brief hesitation, Carlo climbed onto the mattress and lay down beside you for the first time since your marriage.He kept his distance at first.Sometime during the night, however, Carlo moved closer. His arm slowly settled around your waist, pulling you gently against him. Neither of you knew it yet, but it was the first time Carlo had allowed himself to sleep beside his wife. The next morning, you woke to an unfamiliar warmth around your waist. Still half asleep, you shifted slightly and froze. Carlo was lying behind you, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. His face was close to your shoulder, and his eyes were still closed.

It’s Halloween, the best time of the year. You and your friends have decided to go trick-or-treating, laughing as you walk down the street. You’re dressed as Harley Quinn, complete with her signature outfit and playful makeup. Your group approaches a beautifully decorated house and knocks on the door before calling out together. “Trick or treat!” A kind-looking older woman opens the door with a warm smile. “You girls look amazing! But I’m sorry, we don’t have any ca…” “Yeah, we do.” A deep, familiar voice interrupts her. You freeze. Scott. Your worst enemy. Seriously, of all the houses in the neighborhood, you had to end up at his? Scott steps into view behind the woman, dressed as the Joker. His face is covered in Halloween makeup, and his messy hair completes the look. Your friends immediately start giggling when they realize the coincidence. You stare at him in disbelief. “You’re the Joker?” Scott raises an eyebrow. “And you’re Harley Quinn?” You glance down at your costume, then back at him. “This is getting weird.” The older woman laughs softly. “You two look perfect together.” You suddenly realize who she is. “Wait… you’re his mom?” She smiles. “I am.” Scott sighs. “Mom, please don’t start.” His mother laughs and reaches for a bowl of candy. “Go ahead, girls. Take some.” She hands out candy one by one until you’re the last person left.

Zayne was your boyfriend and soon to be your husband. He was also a doctor, which meant you had gotten used to his habit of checking your pulse at the most random times. Even at your wedding, he could not seem to resist. During the wedding reception, you were sitting beside him when he quietly reached for your hand and gently placed two fingers against your wrist. You looked at him. “What are you doing?” “Checking your pulse.” “You’re checking my pulse at our wedding?” Zayne looked at you with a small smile. “I’m your doctor. It’s my job to make sure you’re okay.” “I’m perfectly fine.” “I know.” His thumb gently brushed over your wrist. “I just like having an excuse to hold your hand.” You felt your cheeks warm. “You’re such a liar,” you whispered. “I’m a doctor, not a liar.” You laughed softly and leaned closer to him. Zayne kept your hand in his, his fingers gently intertwined with yours.

You had been tired and sleepless since your baby was born. In the middle of the night, you yawned as you walked toward the kitchen to wash the baby bottle. Your eyes were half-closed from exhaustion when you noticed the kitchen light was already on. You turned and saw your husband leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, watching you. “Hmm, sweetheart, you’re teasing me so much with that outfit,” he said as he walked toward you. You looked down at yourself. You were wearing a simple nightdress, your hair was messy, and the dark circles under your eyes made you look exhausted. You looked at him in confusion.

You are a supermodel, one of the most famous models in the city. You are married to Felix Harper, a billionaire CEO and one of the most powerful businessmen in the city. That evening, Felix stood by the side of the road with his phone against his ear. “I can’t make it to the meeting tonight. I have a date with my wife,” he said. “But, sir…” Before his assistant could finish, Felix ended the call. He looked up and noticed a huge billboard lighting up across the street. It displayed a photo of you posing for your latest campaign. Felix smiled as he looked at your face. “So beautiful,” he murmured. Suddenly, someone wrapped their arms around him from behind. “Gotcha!” you said with a giggle. Felix smiled and turned around to face you while you continued hugging him. He gently cupped your cheek and caressed it with his thumb.

You had always known that Owen Martin’s family did not accept you. Ever since you married him, his mother and younger sister had made their dislike obvious. They constantly criticized your choices, questioned your actions, and acted as if you were never good enough for their son and brother. Owen knew about it, but he never allowed their opinions to change how he treated you. To him, you were his wife, the person he chose to love. Now, six months into your pregnancy, you tried your best to avoid conflict and keep the peace for Owen’s sake. One evening, Owen’s family gathered for dinner at his parents’ house. You sat beside him, gently placing a hand over your growing belly as everyone talked around the table. At first, the conversation was normal, but soon his mother began commenting on everything you did. “You shouldn’t eat that. It’s not good for the baby,” she said, pushing your plate away slightly. His sister quickly joined in. “You should be more careful. A mother should know what is best for her child.” You stayed quiet, not wanting to start an argument. You were already tired, and the constant criticism was becoming overwhelming. Before you could respond, Owen calmly reached over and took your plate back, placing it in front of you again. His expression turned serious. “She knows what she wants. Let her eat peacefully.” The entire table went silent. His mother looked surprised, and his sister frowned, clearly not expecting him to defend you. Owen had always been respectful toward his family, but this time, he made it clear that you came first. He gently held your hand under the table, silently reminding you that you were not alone. After dinner, you and Owen returned home. As you changed into your pajamas, you looked at him quietly. “Why did you defend me like that?” you asked. Owen walked closer and gently placed a hand on your cheek. His usual serious expression softened as he leaned down and kissed your forehead.

It was past midnight when you found yourself sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying a bowl of noodles. The warmth and comfort of the food helped you relax after a long day. The house was quiet and peaceful until you heard footsteps approaching. Your husband, Kenneth, appeared in the doorway, clearly annoyed as he rubbed his tired eyes and looked at you. “What are you doing up so late?” he mumbled, still half-asleep. You simply smiled and took another bite of noodles. “I was hungry,” you replied casually, not thinking much of it. Kenneth sighed and walked over, sitting beside you. His presence was warm and comforting, even though he was clearly irritated. “You know you woke me up because of this, right?” he said, his tone playful despite his fake annoyance. You continued eating, enjoying your late-night snack, but soon you felt him shift closer. Kenneth leaned toward you, looking at your sleepy face as you ate.

You feel a warm hand resting gently on your belly, making you slowly open your eyes. Still half asleep, you blink a few times and see Lucian sitting beside you on the bed. His usual cold expression is gone, replaced by a rare softness as he looks down at your pregnant belly. His fingers move carefully, almost afraid of disturbing you or the baby. The man who is always strict and serious with everyone else is now sitting quietly in the middle of the night, completely focused on the little life growing inside you. You watch him for a moment before softly asking, “Lucian?” He immediately looks up, slightly surprised that you are awake. “I thought you were sleeping,” he murmurs. You smile sleepily. “I woke up because I felt your hand.” Lucian glances back at your belly and gently strokes it. After a moment of silence, he whispers, “I was just checking on you both.” You notice the tiredness in his eyes and realize he has probably been awake for a while. “You were talking to our baby, weren’t you?” For once, Lucian looks embarrassed. He clears his throat and looks away. “I was trying to make an alliance before they are born,” he admits quietly. “I need someone on my side.” You let out a small laugh and reach for his hand. “Are you already worried our baby will be against you?” Lucian looks at you, his lips slightly curving into a rare smile.

You were the new maid at the Saint Mansion, and before your first day even started, everyone warned you about John Saint. He was a billionaire known for his charm, wealth, and endless list of girlfriends. People said he was a womanizer who never took love seriously. He was always surrounded by beautiful women, but no one had ever managed to stay by his side for long. “Don’t get too close to him,” the other maids warned you. “Mr. Saint changes girlfriends like he changes clothes.” You expected him to be arrogant, cold, and impossible to deal with. However, after working at the mansion for a week, you noticed something strange. One evening, while cleaning the garden area behind the mansion, you heard a soft meowing sound. Curious, you followed the noise and found John Saint kneeling on the ground, carefully feeding a group of stray cats. The same man everyone called heartless was gently petting a small kitten in his arms. You froze in surprise. He immediately noticed you standing there. His eyes widened slightly before he quickly stood up and cleared his throat, trying to regain his usual serious expression. “Don’t tell anyone,” he said. You smiled, crossing your arms.

They say that far out in the deepest part of the ocean, there is a folktale whispered among sailors about a powerful siren whose beauty could drive men mad and whose voice could command the sea itself. Many ships never returned once they strayed too close. That night, Captain Pablo Braveport of the infamous Black Moon sailed straight into those cursed waters. The sea roared with fury, rain slashed down, and thunder split the sky, but nothing could prepare him for you. You sat upon a jagged rock rising from the dark waves, your shimmering tail catching flashes of lightning. Your voice, sweet yet deadly, curled through the storm like invisible chains, pulling at the minds of his crew. One by one, they stumbled to the edge of the deck, their eyes glassy and their bodies ready to leap into the abyss. “Captain! Cover your ears, or you’ll be hypnotized by the witch!” his first mate shouted over the storm. But Pablo’s gaze remained locked on you. “She’s… beautiful,” he murmured, his grip tightening around the wheel.