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My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.

On her seventh anniversary, Vivian’s mansion is trashed on livestream by Sophie, who mistakes her for Arjun’s mistress—only to learn she is his wife. Vivian then discovers Arjun is sleeping with both Sophie and her best friend Mia. Armed with an ironclad prenup, the secret Sterling heiress begins her ruthless revenge.

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.

Kiley, a seemingly meek housewife, is divorced by her arrogant husband Evertt Baker, who is having an affair with Adda Vincent. Kiley reveals her true identity as Kiley Stafford, a powerful and wealthy heiress who had sought genuine love. She takes over a failing family hotel and uncovers fraud involving Evertt's company and Adda's toxic family business. As Kiley systematically dismantles the Vincents and challenges Evertt professionally, he slowly realizes her true capabilities and the extent of Adda's deception. Evertt, initially resentful, begins to regret his actions, defending Kiley from an attack and discovering her hidden talents and past love for him. Defying his family, he cuts ties with Adda. Kiley, now CEO of KS Group, declares business war on Evertt, who, no longer angry, feels alive and ready to fight for the woman he now respects and loves.

I accidentally give my crush’s rival a love letter—then realize it’s actually the porn I wrote. Worse, he turns out to be my new stepbrother- a total devil! Now we’re stuck living under the same roof, he’s holding my embarrassing secret over me… and somehow, we start falling for each other...

Leila, a runaway princess, happens to save Kieran, the merman king, on a pirate ship. Bound by blood, they know they're fated mates. Kieran endures the pain of a forbidden tail-splitting spell to find her. They go through thick and thin together.

After dying from overwork, I wake up in a cybernetic world where Synchronization Rate determines everything. Though I possess unmatched power, all I want is an easy life—hanging out with beautiful women and enjoying my days as a seemingly useless F-rank nobody. But trouble keeps finding me: my ex-wife wants my fortune, my family demands a political marriage, my brother dies protecting me, and even my own blood wants me dead. Fine. No more pretending.

Betrayed by his fiancée and brother at his own wedding, the trash miner Severin reveals his true identity — the Sovereign Godfather. As a dark conspiracy threatens the realm, he reclaims his throne alongside elite heiress Elowen. Time to make them all kneel.

Cate thought her romance with mafia heir Nick was a new beginning—until the night she planned to give him everything, only to find James in her bed instead. Ruthless, powerful. Overnight, her world shattered. At a party the next day, the truth hits hard: she slept with the man who rules the underworld—and her boyfriend's father.