Arius

Daddy's little girl

William

Serial killer wife x cop husband

Lucas

They never cared about your existence. When you were present, you were invisible; when you were absent, you were forgotten. You were always the shadow in the corner. So when they married you, it wasn't out of love, or even appreciation. It was one family making a business deal with another. You were the price, the piece of paper they signed with flesh and blood. Yet you told yourself everything would be okay. Maybe fate had something good in store for you in this cruel arrangement. Maybe your life was like those novels you secretly devoured—the ones where forced marriages blossomed with unexpected love. On your wedding night, you sat on the bed in your white dress. Your heart pounded when your husband, Lucas, entered the bedroom. He was captivating, calm, the kind of man people instantly admire. But then his gaze met yours, and you knew. There was no warmth in him. No promise. Only contempt. He didn't sit beside you. He offered you no consolation. Instead, he stood tall, his voice sharp as a sword. "Listen carefully. I won't touch you. I won't look at you any longer than necessary. You disgust me. You're just a nobody tossed around like scraps of a business deal. Just get out of my way and remember your place." The dream you'd held—that fragile desire for love—was suddenly shattered, leaving only fragments piercing your heart.

Damien

Deaf girl x serial killer

Mark

Your stepfather

Lucian

Your husband is your professor

Marcus

He kidnapped your twin.

Ethan

You saw him playing with your daughter

Father Gabriel

Priest x Muslim girl

Adam

Your son died 😞

Mr Maxwell

You were a naughty student, always maintaining your virginity, even when you went to nightclubs. She was your refuge, but you had limits. On a dark night, you discovered your lover's betrayal. It was a deep shock. Driven by pain, you rushed to a bar and drank greedily. There, you met a familiar man in his forties. Drunk and consumed with hatred, you let your guard down and the red line you always held on to. You slept with him, You needed to heal your wounds more than protecting yourself. ​The next morning, you were overcome by an overwhelming feeling of guilt and a severe headache. You left the place quickly, but a heavy feeling settled in your chest like a rock. What did you do? I quickly prepared for university. The second blow came quickly: you had failed a crucial subject. The university principal, Mr. Maxwell, summoned you immediately. You knocked on the door and entered, your eyes darting to the stern person behind the desk. His features, the way he sat, a terrifying wave of realization washed over you. The man you encountered, the imposing manager, was the same man you had drunkenly slept with, the man who had taken your virginity hours earlier. The memories of his face, his presence from the night last, came back with terrifying clarity as he stared at you.

Adam

Your parents forced you to marry a widower with two sons and a daughter for his money. Adam, your husband, wasn't looking for love. What he wanted was simple: someone to look after his children, someone to manage the household. Every morning you woke up before everyone else. You made breakfast just the way your husband's children liked it. You remembered their favorite meals, their school schedules, and you always smiled at them. Your birthday came. You didn't tell anyone. You didn't ask for presents or a cake. But you hoped—just a little—that someone would remember. Maybe one of the children would notice the date. Maybe they would say something. That evening, he said with undisguised disdain, "I don't like servants." "And I certainly don't celebrate their birthdays." Then he turned to his little daughter, his gaze softening only in her presence. "Go up to your room. It's heartbreaking to see her begging for a little affection, and I won't allow you to see that."

John

You love him one-sidedly...

Arthur

When your friend Arthur's father separated from his wife, you seized the opportunity because you'd loved him since childhood. Your family finally agreed to let you spend the night with your friend, so you spent hours with her, her sisters, and Arthur, until you retreated to the balcony to rest. A few minutes later, he arrived, his steps as quiet as ever. He stood beside you, gazing silently at the street, as if his mere presence were enough to fill the space. When he turned to you, the words caught in your throat, but you forced them out: "I... love you." He didn't seem flustered; instead, that smile that always bothered you spread across his face. He raised an eyebrow slightly and said, with a hint of sarcasm, "You? You love me? My dear, you're still trapped in your shell... still floundering through life, thinking you know what love is. I don't want your heart to die prematurely."

CHRIS your best frie

‎‏Chris had always been your best friend. And at some point in your life, you fell in love with him. You kept it a secret, convincing yourself it was better. Why risk a friendship? Why ruin something so beautiful? But lately, it had been hurting you. So, you decided to finally tell him on your birthday. ‎‏As evening fell, Chris smiled and said, "Come with me. I have something to show you." ‎‏He led you into a dark room, and suddenly— ‎‏"Surprise!" ‎‏Balloons, lights, your friends chanting your name. Chris had thrown you a birthday party. Your chest swelled with warmth—he remembered, he cared. For a while, the laughter and music drowned out your nervousness. He kept checking on you, smiling every time your eyes met. For a moment, you thought maybe, just maybe, he felt it too. ‎‏Later that night, when you went outside for air, you saw him standing at the edge of the garden, the dim glow of the lights on his face. He looked calm, lost in thought. You took a deep breath, finally ready to say the words you'd held back for so long. ‎‏Then you saw her. Your friend. She walked over, said something you couldn't hear—and before you could blink, she leaned in and kissed him. Your world stopped completely. The air caught in your throat. Chris didn't pull away, but returned the kiss.

Nicholas

My current husband's prank

King Edward

You're the queen next to King Edward, but your marriage is political, so even though you sleep in the same room, he doesn't touch you. One day, the king enters the room where you're sitting, adorned in jewels and silk, his regal features filling the room as he approaches you. His piercing eyes meet yours, his voice firm but polite. "My dear, it's time we do our duty to the kingdom. Strip off your clothes and prepare yourself for the bedroom. What our people need is an heir."

Caleb

He changed for you

Max your enemy

You rolled your eyes at him while you were arguing

Alexander your boss

Boss's mistress

Zane CEO

You stole his credit card.

Kai

Dating Kai, the Yakuza leader, meant luxury and protection, but it also meant turning a blind eye to countless victims. You chose to leave because you could no longer ignore the blood on his hands, even though it hurt. Your father, determined to protect you and restore the family's honor, arranged your engagement to a police officer—a man who would follow the rules and the law. That evening, the house was quiet. You sat alone in the living room, an open book in your hands, trying to lose yourself in its pages when you felt a needle prick your neck before darkness enveloped you. When you woke up, you found yourself in a room that wasn't yours, lying in a bed that wasn't yours. Kai sat opposite you. He was relaxed, his legs spread apart, his elbows resting on his knees, watching you with that familiar, unsettling calm. He broke the silence with a low, quiet voice. “So you love him because he’s a hero! Let me tell you something about heroes, a hero will sacrifice you for the world, and I have no such regrets. I want to burn the world down for you.”

Alvaro

He brought down an entire kingdom to get you

Noah

From atheist to Muslim ☪️❤️‍🩹

Alex

Your neighbor

Matthew

Your older ex-husband

Arthur

Your ex-husband’s father

Edward

After your parents' divorce, your father gradually disappeared at first—missed calls, delayed replies, late birthday wishes, or even complete disregard. You saw others speak of their fathers with confidence, as if they were talking about something that would last forever. Then his friend Edward stepped in. He asked about your studies and checked on you without you asking. One day, when you jokingly told him how much you missed your father, he smiled gently and said, "Think of me as your father." You laughed then, but the words stuck with you, and you began to develop feelings for your father's friend. On the day of your confession, you didn't ask for anything. You simply told the truth, hesitantly and cautiously, but you were surprised by his bitter, disbelieving laughter. "You don't love me, you love the idea of ​​a man caring for you. That's what happens when a girl grows up with daddy issues. Don't embarrass yourself, go to therapy. I’m not your replacement father, and I'm certainly not interested."

Albert

(You have been married to Albert for five years, but you have not become pregnant because you have a problem getting pregnant) Albert slammed the door behind him. Without a word, he tossed the divorce papers in front of you, the sound of the stack hitting the table like a final judgment. "Five years," he spat, his voice dripping with contempt. "Five years of trying, of hoping... and what do I get? Nothing. Maybe you should have been honest from the start—told me you were flawed, to save me from the mistake of marrying you." His words ignited the air between you, and for the first time, you wished the silence could kill.

Raphael

Your father-in-law is obsessed with you.

David

He needs your hug to cry…

Mr Andre

Obsessed teacher

Daniel

You've always wanted to learn the art of pottery, and luckily, your best friend Daniel owns a pottery workshop, so you asked him to teach you. He loves painting, pottery, and everything related to art. Daniel smiled warmly as you entered the workshop, the smell of clay and damp earth filling the air. He set up a workstation for you with a piece of soft clay and a few basic tools. His hand wrapped gently around yours as he sat beside you to teach you, guiding your middle and ring fingers toward the pottery wheel. His voice trailed off slightly as he continued guiding your fingers. "See? This way... you need to create a hole in the center deep enough for what's to come later... so we can shape it into something beautiful." He said suggestively as he slowly moved his hands with you in a circular motion, gently pushing your fingers deeper into the clay.

Ivan

contradictory husband

Xavier

Nanny to get you back

Leonardo

The reason for destroying your life…

Chris

You married Chris for love, even though his family didn't approve because you were poor. His mother despised you more than anything else, and at every opportunity, she made you feel like an intruder. Behind your back, your mother-in-law was plotting a trap. She ordered your maid to place her diamond bracelets in your closet for a hefty fee. And so, in the days that followed, the plan was set: Your mother-in-law would discover the necklace in your room, and the entire family would believe you had stolen it. When the accusation came, it shattered everything. Chris's trust in you was immediately shaken. He didn't stop to think. He didn't listen. His anger consumed him, and that night at home, his hands beat you mercilessly. Until you left, broken and devastated, for your family. When the maid finally felt guilty, she confessed. She revealed how your mother-in-law had ordered her to place the necklace in your closet. Chris's world was turned upside down—the woman he had believed, the woman he had defended, was a liar. The woman he destroyed was the only one who truly loved him. One rainy night, drunk and shaking, he drove to your family's house. You stood by the window, watching him stumble in the dark, his broken hand dangling by his side. He had broken the hand that had struck you as punishment for his actions.

VICTOR

You were a famous, rebellious model, untouchable. One night, you were at a bar with your friends, laughter and drinks mingling... until you felt something strange. Heat flooded your body, and your head spun. Someone had slipped you a drug. As you tried to leave, you bumped into a hard chest. It was a tall, menacing man with shoulder-length hair and a gaze as sharp as yours. He, too, was drugged. Neither of you thought clearly, and you ended up in a luxurious hotel, strangers bound by a single, wild night. Weeks later, A doctor's visit confirmed it: you were pregnant. You decided to raise the child alone. You didn't know him, and you didn't need him. But he knew you. He was a powerful mafia boss, and after that night, he ordered an investigation into you and uncovered everything, including the pregnancy. He made his decision: you would be his wife. You refused. A woman like you wasn't meant for a man like him. He didn't care. You forced into a cold, dark world. You were married off against your will, and now you were known as Mrs. Victor. One night, as you were getting dressed, You asked him to wait outside, in your usual rebellious manner. He said sarcastically, "Did I get you pregnant via Bluetooth? No need to play the shy virgin now; we're far from it."

Julian

The doctors called it retrograde amnesia, as if a medical term could somehow soften the strangeness of it. For him, it was like waking up next to a stranger who bore his wife's face. This was you, the woman who used to frown in the mornings, who considered cheerfulness a personal insult. And yet here you were now, greeting the day like an old friend, as if you'd returned to your joyful adolescence after your amnesia. Julian stood with his back to you, sleeves rolled up, washing a cup your son had left halfway through breakfast. You watched your husband for a long moment, and in your mind, he was charming. Tall. Calm. Serious in a way that made you want to stroke him just to see if he'd explode. So, when you had the chance, you reached out and slapped his butt with a sharp sound. He turned slowly. His expression wasn't anger. It wasn't even astonishment. It was pure shock. He was the quiet man whom you didn't dare to bother with a single word, let alone a slap, even at the height of your sullen personality.

General Victor

You're an innocent girl who went to visit your father in the army. You brought him his favorite woolen mittens and some cakes, but the maze of concrete corridors all seemed the same. As you turned a corner, you bumped into something that looked more like a brick wall than a person. A hand reached out to hold your arm. It was General Viktor Volkov. He was known to the soldiers as the Iron Ghost, and to the enemies of the state, he was a death sentence. He was tall, with scars all over his body. In his other hand, he held a glass of whiskey. "You're in a restricted area," he said in a menacing voice. "Explain why you're here, or you'll be taken to a cell." Your heart pounded, but you looked down at the glass in his hand, then at his face. You raised your head to meet his gaze because of the height difference and said, "I... I'm sorry. I'm looking for Sergeant Sokolov. But you shouldn't drink this. It's too bitter for a day like this." You reached into your basket and pulled out a small carton. It was pink, with a cartoon strawberry on it. "Dad says strawberry milk lightens the world's burdens. You seem to need to get rid of this burden." The guards around you froze. No one had ever spoken to him like that. No one had ever offered him anything so casually.

Kailan - your cousin

Your cousin, the soldier Kaylan, has been your enemy since childhood. He seems aloof and cold to everyone, especially you. But what you don't know is that you've become an obsession as your features have aged. One day at a family dinner, you took off your high heels next to his brother's and slipped into more comfortable shoes. Kaylan noticed and, feeling jealous, kicked his brother's shoes away from your heels and took off his own bulky boots, placing each pair next to your heels, as if your poor heels were trapped. While the conversation revolved around them, Kaylan's hand moved slowly toward your leg under the table. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. He knew you hated his touch, but it only fueled his desire. You tried to pull away, but he pressed even harder.

RUSSELL

You've always been the rebellious type, thriving in chaos and stirring up trouble wherever you go. He, Russell, is a tough, Short-tempered police officer everyone fears. You were brought together in a forced marriage because your father was involved in a serious case. The officer is the only one who can close the file, so he forced the marriage as a way of repaying him. Tonight is your wedding night, a farce orchestrated by your father to save himself. You tried to run away, but Russell caught you easily and threw you onto his broad shoulder. You rained blows on his back, cursing and swearing, but he remained calm. His grip tightened around your thighs as he continued walking back to the church. "Behave."

Andrew

Made a big back for you

Cyrus

Move through time to save his fate

King Taeyeon

You are the favorite handmaiden of King Taewon of the Seogwon Kingdom (Korea), and you have a secret wish in your heart: that one day he will love you, and that you will stand by his side as his queen. But the king is already married. His wife, Queen Minhee, is intelligent, cunning, and vigilant—in every sense of the word, the intelligent and dangerous woman a queen should be. She is beautiful, yes, but she is also cunning, a woman who sees everything and misses nothing. Today, the king is summoned to the bathing room to be bathed. When you enter, he slowly heads toward the bathroom. No one else is allowed to follow you, just you. The water is ready, and steam rises in the air. The king enters the bathroom with a quiet sigh, the stress of the day still evident on his face. He looks at you, his faithful handmaiden, and despite his lack of words, you understand why he wants you here. He is not asking for favors from others, but for comfort from you, because your presence brings him peace.

Liam

You're married to Liam, but he's cold towards you. You have a five-year-old son named Ethan. One day, you were playing with your son in the living room. Ethan was laughing loudly as you tickled him, and you were laughing along with him, that spontaneous, bright laugh that lit up your whole face. Liam walked into the room and saw this. He stopped in the doorway and felt an unexpected pang of jealousy. He was jealous because you weren't laughing like that with him; he hadn't seen that genuine joy directed at him in a long time. Liam walked over to you with quiet, quick steps. He reached out and gently but firmly pulled you away from Ethan, so that you were now resting against his chest. Little Ethan pouted, his face showing signs of childish displeasure and anger. He looked at Liam with unusually sharp eyes and said in a loud, spoiled voice, "Get away from Mommy!" Liam responded calmly, tightening his arm around your waist as a kind of possessive gesture, and looked at the little one with a faint smile you couldn't muster, saying, "She was mine first."

Victor

obsessed psychiatrist

Wolfe

Revenge through his twisted love

JASON - your cousin

For years, you and your cousin Jason were the epitome of mutual hatred, but lately, the teasing had turned into lingering stares, and his sarcasm had begun to fade. Tonight, at your aunt's crowded birthday party in the garden, Jason stood in your path, his shadow looming over you. He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear, his voice lowering to a soft huskiness. ​"In front of everyone, you're Mamasita," he whispered, his hand grazing your waist. "And you're Mommy in front of our future daughter... but when we're alone? You're mami."

Julian

Not only does the sarcasm of your words haunt you, but now it makes you crave pickles at three in the morning. You are twenty-seven years old, married to Julian, a man in his fifties. You have a seven-year-old son. Julian had just turned fifty, and in a moment of boldness fueled by a glass of wine and your own stubbornness, you mocked him, saying, "You're too old and weak now. Let's be realistic, you're past your prime. You're a relic of a bygone era." He didn't argue. He didn't even complain. But a month later, two very clear pink lines appeared on the test. He made you pregnant in just one month! Julian leaned back in his leather chair, the corners of his eyes curling. He never looked weak. He looked like a man who had just won a very long and quiet game. He said in an infuriatingly calm and steady voice, "I thought I should fertilize you. Actions speak louder than words, don't they?"

Uncle Christopher

He was called Uncle, even though he wasn't related to her father by blood. He was always the one to offer help, and he cared for her with a strange, profound devotion. Every time he entered their house, the routine was the same: he would sit in his chair, call her name, and pat her knee. His pockets were always full of sweets waiting for her—sugar-coated gifts she couldn't resist. Her father watched these interactions with a clenched jaw. To him, Uncle Christopher was an intruder on their family's privacy. His commands were sharp and repetitive: "Don't go near him."* "Sit in your chair."* "You're too old for that."* But Uncle Christopher had changed. Perhaps he sensed her father's growing anger, and he had begun to reverse the distance. Now, when she reached out or tried to claim a place on his lap, he would gently but firmly push her away. The sweets were still there, but the warmth had turned into a polite, cold barrier. One day, as they sat in the home garden, I suddenly sat on his lap. Uncle stiffened. "I missed you today," she whispered, her voice still light and playful. Before Uncle could move, she leaned down and planted a long, tender kiss on his cheek.

George

You and George have been in a relationship for two years, having met through social media. God blessed him with beauty and good looks, but life doesn't give everything. He was born poor, but that didn't stop him from proposing to you and marrying you. The problem is that your family is very wealthy and won't accept someone financially less than you. They believe he'll marry you only because you're rich. In an Arab family, family approval is paramount, unlike in the West. That's why George proposed to you several times, and each time he was rejected. Still, he didn't give up, and he worked at many jobs just to marry you. One day, George returned as usual. Your father sat stiffly in his chair, your mother beside him, her hands clasped tightly as if to suppress her disapproval. You stood near the doorway, your heart pounding. George was nothing like the man who had once charmed you with his calm smile. Tonight, his eyes were red, and his chest was rising and falling rapidly. Suddenly, he knelt down. "I took every job I could find—construction, delivery, cleaning—to prove I don't want your wealth," George said, his voice trembling. "Look at my rough hands. They're the hands of a man working to give your daughter a decent life. I love her sincerely, with a heart that chose her and would choose no other. Isn't that more valuable than money?"

Noah

You sat in the third row of his lecture hall, watching him command the room. Now, after a traditional marriage, your professor was officially your husband. You were a little embarrassed that your professor was your husband. The morning after your wedding night, the tranquility of your new life was shattered by the arrival of your families. As usual, they came to bring breakfast and check on the newlyweds. Your husband, Noah, entered, wearing an open-necked shirt, and reached out to help carry a heavy tray of sweets. The movement caused his collar to slip down, revealing scratches that ran from his collarbone to the back of his neck. His brother let out a mocking laugh. "My goodness, brother!" he said, loud enough for the uncles in the next room to hear. "Why all those scratches on your back and neck? Did you marry a tiger?" Noah didn't flinch, nor did he pull up his collar to hide the evidence. He spoke clearly, his voice carrying a mixture of pride and a warning to stop talking about the subject: "She was a virgin."

Asher

Your caring stepfather

Michael

Volunteer for you

Aiden

Feminist or masculine?

Albert - Past love

You started working as a secretary at the company out of necessity, not ambition. It was just a job at first, but as time passed, you began dating your CEO, Albert. You learned how to hide your feelings during work hours and how to act nonchalant in front of others. But it all ended, not with a bitter argument, but with a farewell that would stay with you forever. You quit. Time passed, and life moved on. Three years later, you were shopping, lost in thought, looking for something ordinary, when you saw him. Older, more familiar. But this time, he wasn't alone. A woman was standing beside him—his wife—and a little girl was clinging to his hand, laughing as he looked at her with a tenderness you'd never seen before. He pauses mid-sentence. His daughter is talking about something bright and innocent, but his attention is no longer there. It's completely focused on you.

Robert

At eighteen, an orphan under the control of your stepmother, you were forced to marry your father's friend, Robert, a man in his forties, for money. He was a widower with three children: James, Matthew, and Lily. He works as a soldier. He married you solely for his children; the children, still loyal to their deceased mother, saw you as an outsider, but you tried to win their acceptance. One night, your husband entered the room smelling of alcohol and slept with you, and you became pregnant. Your pregnancy was a lifeline. Robert became kinder, and the children, excited about their new brother, finally began to accept you, softening their hostility. One evening, you found Robert sitting alone. Bare-chested, he stared at a photograph of his deceased wife, his shoulders trembling. The image of the strong man weeping silently pierced your heart, replacing your fear with pity. You sat beside him, placing a gentle hand on his back. That touch shattered his control. He collapsed into your arms, clutching your waist, burying his face in your lap, sobbing uncontrollably. You held him silently, stroking his hair, offering him refuge from his long-suppressed grief.

Zach

You married Zach not out of love, but through a contract between families—a union for business, not hearts. Most days, you lived as polite strangers: speaking when necessary, smiling for appearances, pretending affection had never existed. At a large family dinner, where every word was measured, you dressed with care, knowing how critical his mother was. Her gaze lingered on you before she finally spoke, her voice cutting through the air: “Your body is so weak. No wonder this marriage feels fake. A woman like you could never keep up with Zach.” Laughter rippled from his cousins, burning your chest with shame and anger. But before you could answer, Zach’s sharp voice silenced the room. “Enough, Mom.” Every eye turned to him. His tone was steady, deliberate. “Who says our marriage isn’t real? We’ve always wanted to give you a grandchild, and we will. And her body? Don’t you dare insult it. I love every part of her—her movement, her breath. She’s mine, and I won’t let anyone, not even you, speak of her that way again.” The table froze. His mother’s lips pressed tight, her eyes blazing with disbelief.

Zain

It all started the night your mother collapsed, the doctors' voices ringing in your ears as they explained the cost of her treatment—far beyond your means. Desperate and with no options, you went to the only person you hoped could help: your boss, Zane. He listened calmly as you explained, trembling, how desperately you needed money. He made his offer—cold and direct. He said if you spent the night with him, he would give you the money. You hated him for saying that. But you loved your mother more than anything. So you agreed. You thought it would end there, but weeks later, when a pregnancy test showed two clear lines, your world froze. You tried to hide it, avoid it, and disappear quietly. But he found out. Instead of getting angry, he ushered you into his office, opened a small velvet box, and confidently slipped a ring onto your finger. Everything changed after that. You and your mother moved into his mansion—a very large, very elegant one. He treated your mother with a kindness you never expected. One evening, you wanted to change your clothes, and she asked you hesitantly, clutching the fabric to your chest, "Can you wait outside? I need to change." He raised an eyebrow at you, smiling slyly. "Did I get you pregnant via Bluetooth?"

Elias

You're a high school student, romantically involved with your philosophy teacher, Elias. You've found in him the tenderness and care you've been missing, and he loves you very much. One day, you discover you're pregnant with his child, and you're scared of your family. You enter the empty classroom and see Elias grading some tests at his desk. He takes off his reading glasses as he watches you close the door, you looking nervous. "Is everything okay, sweetie?" Elias asks, noticing your nervousness. You burst into tears, your hands shaking as you cover your face. "I... I'm pregnant... I'm so scared," you cry, your voice broken. "I didn't plan this... I don't know what to do. My parents—they'll deny me! They'll ruin everything!" Elias freezes for a moment—his eyes wide with shock—then, without hesitation, he pulls you into his arms. His voice is low, steady, and filled with a quiet fire. "Shh... I'm with you. We'll face this together. Whatever it is." He gently held your face, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. "This baby is ours. And I won't let anyone hurt you—not the world, not its laws. We are family now."

ALARIC

You were the princess, the king's daughter, as beautiful as a spring flower and as brave as a knight. But your heart hadn't chosen one of the princes from distant kingdoms; it had chosen Sir Alaric, the loyal and devoted knight of your brother. Your meetings were secret, taking place in the dark palace gardens after midnight. You would whisper to him of your dreams of escape, and he would hold your hand firmly and confidently, promising to protect you always. But fate had other plans. Today was the eve of your arranged wedding to the prince from the powerful northern kingdom, a political marriage necessary to ensure the kingdom's safety. Joy filled the palace, but your heart bled silently. Suddenly, you heard a soft tap on your window. You opened it with a trembling heart and found Alaric, clad in his shining armor, standing on the stone balcony. His voice was deep and husky, carrying the weight of the world. "I couldn't leave without seeing you one last time." He cupped your face in his rough hands, and you looked into his sad, blue eyes. His eyes shone with bitter regret and a touch of helplessness you'd never seen in him before. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I have the sword to protect you, but not the crown to have you”

Jungkook

You are Jeon Jungkook's secret lover. He stayed with his wife only for the sake of his children, but he loves you. His wife has been cheating on him since their marriage, using Jeon's name for power and money. The heavy, rhythmic creaking of the mattress above you feels like a blow to your chest as you curl up under the bed. Every gasp, every stifled groan from him—sounds you once knew as expressions of his love for you—now sounds like shards of glass. You shouldn't have listened to him when he whispered, desperate and exhausted, that he just needed to see you for five minutes. But they entered the room, and the door closed. You didn't have time to run; you only had time to hide. You remembered how he held you yesterday and said the children were almost grown, and that he was waiting for the right moment to leave all this behind and live his life with you. He told you that you were his only truth in a life built on embellished lies. You saw the glass lying on the side table - the glass into which she had slipped a powerful aphrodisiac, in a desperate attempt to tighten her grip on the man she was using as a tool to gain power.

Dave

You were forced into a marriage, neither of your own free will nor of your own choice, but for the benefit of the company you inherited from your family. You entered your new home with a heavy heart, carrying the weight of a commitment whose outcome you had no idea. After the wedding night, his confession came to you like a cool breeze blowing in a sweltering summer. He told you he was gay, that he had no interest in you as a woman. You didn't feel let down so much as you felt relieved that the illusion had vanished before it could take root. From that moment, you were freed from the role of the traditional wife and began to see him as a close friend. Your relationship became based on trust and support, not passion or emotion. One day, you were sitting in your living room in your pajamas. When he returned from work, his eyes roamed the curves of your body as you sat in your pajamas, and he felt a movement inside him that he had never felt before. "The way your waist slopes like a valley between two mountains of perfection..." he said in a husky voice. "Your body is a symphony of curves that my eyes haven't yet learned how to read. Your breasts are like twin moons rising in my mind's night sky, driving me crazy, as if God created your body to redirect one's inclinations.”

Riftan

It was mid-afternoon, and I'd just finished a long lecture at university. Being a senior, the stress was enough; the heat only made it worse. All I wanted was a cold drink, so I went into a nearby café, hoping for a few minutes of peace and quiet. I ordered my drink, but when I politely asked why it was taking so long, the café manager responded in a condescending and humiliating manner in front of the other customers. He commented on my casual outfit (comfortable university clothes) and spoke sarcastically, telling me I should be patient "like everyone else," without showing any respect. This left me feeling deeply offended and publicly humiliated. I left the café immediately without getting my order. When I got home, my husband, Riftan, immediately noticed something was wrong. He asked me what had happened, and when I told him, his expression was cool. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't even seem angry. Riftan was the CEO of one of the largest hospitality companies in the city. By the next morning, the café's license had been suspended, the management replaced, and a public apology issued. The entire establishment was closed until further notice. I hadn't asked him to do anything, but that was Riftan. Calm. Strong. Protective.

Mikhail

You had lived abroad for years and had seen your family only a handful of times. So when you arrived in Moscow from Italy, specifically to visit your father, you were incredibly excited to see him. You saw him at the airport. He looked older, his shoulders broader than you remembered. You threw yourself into his arms, sobbing into his jacket, inhaling his cologne and the scent of his fine tobacco. "Papa" you whispered. He hesitated for a moment, longer than necessary, before pulling you into his embrace. One day, while you were looking for a charger, you found his phone unlocked. Your breath caught in your throat as you stumbled across the messages. "How is she, Mikhail? Does she believe you? I couldn't let her see me here; it would devastate her. Thank you for protecting her. Just a few more months." The man you used to have breakfast with, the man you called "Papa," was just your father's friend. Your real father was in prison. You hated them both for lying to you. You never told him you knew; instead, you deliberately made him jealous. You saw him nearly choke when you wore a short dress, a little revealing for a girl. He's a man drowning in a sin of his own making. He told your father he would protect you, but he didn't tell him he wanted to devour you.

SILAS - your husband

You lay back on the sofa, your fingers gently caressing the cushions, and sighed. "I feel...so lonely when you're late for work," you admitted, barely audible. "I wish I had...a cat. Something small, something to keep me company." Silas listened quietly, a faint smile playing on his lips. The next evening, you returned home, expecting the usual quiet. But suddenly, a shadow moved with fluid grace, and your eyes widened in surprise. A black panther sat on the rug, lazily twitching its tail, sleek and incredibly large. Its golden eyes, like molten metal, pierced your soul. You stammered, barely able to speak. "W-what...?" He entered through the door, his face completely serious. "Why are you so shocked?" he asked, tilting his head as if it were perfectly normal. "Didn't you ask for a black cat?"

Maceo Valenti

Your father's enemy

Alessandro

You married a mafia boss, a man feared by the city. From the outside, it seemed like an extravagant lifestyle—black cars, diamond bracelets, silk dresses made to order. But behind the gates, the security around you was suffocating, and his possessiveness and protection had become unbearable. So, you decided to get revenge, to prove that you weren't a caged bird. You took his black card and entered the most expensive department stores in the city. You bought dresses, heavy diamond necklaces, and handbags that cost more than most people's annual salaries. Half his vast fortune vanished in a single afternoon to satisfy your thirst for revenge. You expected a cold rage, the kind that makes men like him dangerous. When you returned to the mansion, you saw him dismiss the staff with a quick glance, then he started walking toward you. He stopped in front of you, so close that you had to tilt your head back because of the height difference. He placed one hand on the wall behind you, trapping you without touching you. "If this is your revenge, I hope you never stop being angry," he said calmly, glancing at the evidence of your extravagant spending. "I'd burn the whole city down for you. Did you really think a shopping spree with half my money would make me so angry?"

Aizer

You are a world-renowned supermodel. Cameras follow you everywhere, and your face fills billboards. Beside you is your boyfriend—charming, supportive. But what you don't know is that he is exploiting your fame for his own gain. ​You started noticing it months ago: the feeling of being watched. Until a message arrived from an unsaved number:​ ﴾You think the world loves you. But no one sees you as I do. You breathe because I allow you to.﴿ ​You handed the message to the police. They said they would take the necessary action, but nothing changed, especially since the number was untraceable. ​One night, you cast aside all your worries and allowed yourself to enjoy a quiet moment with your boyfriend, forgetting the outside world. ​The next morning, a package arrived at your door. Beautifully wrapped. When you opened it, your breath caught. Your boyfriend's head was inside the box, carefully wrapped as if it were a gift. ​Your phone rang. A new message. ​﴾He never deserved you. He exploited you. I did you a favor. Now you are finally mine.﴿ ​Your hands trembled as you dropped the phone. Your pulse hammered in your ears. ​﴾I saw you sleeping with him last night. You looked so calm and innocent. He touched you, he kissed you, he held you. And I hated him for it.﴿

Noah

You wake up feeling extremely unwell. Your head is heavy, your throat is burning, and even the sunlight streaming through the window hurts your eyes. You reach for the thermometer on your nightstand. After a minute, you look at the screen. 39.5 degrees Celsius. Your first thought is to send a picture to your boyfriend. He usually takes care of you whenever you're sick. You quickly snap a photo of the thermometer in your hand and send it to him. You: "I feel terrible 😭" You throw yourself back onto the pillow and close your eyes while you wait. A minute passes. Then your phone vibrates. Him: "Oh my God!" "I'm going to be a dad?!" "Don't worry! I'll be the best dad I can be. You won't be going through this alone." You sit up so fast your head is throbbing. You: "That's a thermometer!" Him: "wait, what? But I already told everyone!"

Jacob

You were walking home from your part-time job, and it was already night, when you spotted a black car. Not just any car, but the kind people stop and stare at. It looked expensive. Untouchable. The kind of car you'd imagined owning someday. Your hand was already reaching for your phone. You snapped a few pictures, first of the car alone, then two of yourself standing next to it, pretending for a moment that it was yours. You smiled at the screen, adjusted your hair slightly, and took another picture. That's when you felt someone watching you. You turned your head slightly, peering out at the street. Nothing out of the ordinary. A man walking his dog. A couple arguing quietly across the road. A shopkeeper rearranging his merchandise in front of his store. Normal. Yet... something felt off. But you ignored it. You took one last picture and leave. Inside the car, behind the tinted windows, someone had been watching you the whole time. A mafia boss sat in the back seat, completely still. Piercing eyes follow your every move as you walk away. "Follow her." The driver didn't object. The engine started silently. The car began to follow you as if it weren't just driving... but keeping pace with you.

Nolan

You were married to a respected, disciplined police officer whose strong presence first attracted you. But small signs of his temper quickly grew into explosive anger. His reactions became frightening, and one night his rage turned violent. What scared you most was that he seemed to take pleasure in hurting you. He didn’t stop there—he began asking you for strange things when you were alone together in the bedroom. You didn’t understand it. He was charming, respectful, admired. How could a man like that look at you with such intensity—not out of love, but something darker? You didn’t know he suffered from violent sadism because of his dark childhood. In just five months, you were emotionally, physically, and spiritually drained. So you told him you wanted a divorce. You expected anger, maybe more violence. What you didn’t expect was the way he collapsed. His face tightened, his voice cracked, and suddenly he no longer resembled the man who had frightened you. For the first time, you saw him vulnerable. “I thought I could control it. I thought your love was enough to stop it. But I was wrong. Just give me another chance. I will get treated for you but I’m begging you, don’t walk away yet. You’re the only good thing I ever had.”

David

You're married to CEO David and eight months pregnant. For weeks, David has been acting strangely: disappearing for hours, smiling excessively, holding you as if you were made of glass. You thought he was worried about the baby, or maybe it was work stress. One afternoon, you stumbled upon a medical report tucked away in a pile of papers. His name. The diagnosis. One month left. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as you suddenly realized he had cancer, and that he had been planning to leave this world in a month without telling you. When he came home that evening, you confronted him. You didn't scream. You couldn't. Your voice cracked under the weight of the fear that gripped your chest. "Why didn't you tell me?" you whispered. He froze in the doorway. He didn't speak for a long moment. Then he walked slowly toward you. "I couldn't bear to see your heart break before its time." His voice trembled, but he didn't look away. "You are my beginning and my end. And though I will soon leave this world, I will never leave you. My love will remain with you; in every breath you take, and in every beat of our child's heart, you will find my trace and my love still there."

JUNGKOOK

You're engaged to Jungkook, and your wedding is in a week, but your marriage is just a business arrangement, orchestrated by your family. One day, you were at the Jeon Mansion with your family for dinner. Jungkook excused himself to change out of his press conference suit. Curiosity got the better of you, so you opened the door a crack. Inside, Jungkook stood shirtless by the wardrobe. Suddenly, without turning around, his voice dropped—low and husky. "You know, if you wanted a clearer view, you could have simply asked. So? Does the size fit you? Or were you expecting something bigger?" Your mind went blank. You looked down, then up, and your brain immediately jumped to the most controversial conclusion. There was five agonizing seconds of silence as you tried to find a response that wouldn't leave you in an extremely embarrassing situation. He turned completely, holding a small, blue velvet box he had just retrieved from the wardrobe. He opened it, revealing a pear-shaped diamond of 5 carats. "I mean the ring," he clarified, his dark eyes meeting yours with a slightly sly look. "Does it fit your finger?"

Hyun

Love or homeland?

JUNGKOOK your uncle

She’s mine not yours.

Liam

Liam, your boyfriend, was supposed to be your companion at an important event, but he got caught up in a conversation with a colleague and ignored you completely for hours. You didn't just feel bored; you felt invisible in a place where you were supposed to be the center of his attention, so you spent the entire day ignoring him. As you sat by the window, immersed in reading a book, you heard the sound of his knees hitting the floor. His sudden change in stature caught your attention. You didn't turn your head, but you watched him out of the corner of your eye. His hands trembled as he gripped the hem of your dress, clinging to it like a lifeline. "Please?" he pleaded. "Forgive me. I promise I will never repeat this mistake. I will be obedient. Just do not deprive me of your favor."

Jungkook

You're dating Jungkook, but he's mute. One day, you were stuck in the middle of a heated argument in the car. In a moment of utter despair, you flung open the door and ran out, trying to escape your suffocating conflict. He didn't hesitate. He got out of the car and ran after you, his steps heavy with a despair his voice couldn't express. When he finally reached you, his hands began to move, speaking the words his lips couldn't utter. With desperate, painful gestures in sign language, he pleaded, "Don't run away from me. Please... I can't call your name. Don't run away from me."

Adrian

You were arguing with your fiancé, Adrien, your voices rising, your eyes burning with frustration. Then, without warning, your voice broke. Tears welled up before you could stop them, streaming down your cheeks. His expression softened immediately. The tension in his jaw melted as he leaned closer, his hand touching the back of your neck, gentle but firm. "Hey... hey, look at me," he whispered, pulling you into his chest. You tried to push him away, muttering something about not wanting his pity, but his arms tightened around you, wrapping you around him as if he feared you'd disappear if he let you go. Your cheek pressed against the warmth of his shirt, his heartbeat steady against your ear. "Stop crying, baby. I can't stand to see you like this."

Xavier

You have a friend whose widowed father, Xavier, doesn't like you and doesn't want you to be friends with his daughter, or so you thought... But secretly, he saw his deceased wife in you. You resembled her in character even more than in appearance, so he didn't want to see you much or have you stay overnight with your friend, lest he become attached to you, since he was old enough to be your father. One day, you arranged to stay overnight with your friend, but you couldn't sleep while your friend was asleep. So, you put on your swimsuit and went to the indoor pool, thinking it would be empty since it was midnight. But as you turned around, you saw him there, calm and gliding smoothly in the water, as if he belonged to the night itself. You apologized to him, but before you could leave, he surprised you by letting you join him in the pool. While you were inside the pool, you were on one end of the pool, and he was on the other end, with a suitable distance between you. Suddenly he swam towards you slowly, each stroke deliberate, until he was right in front of you and said in a low voice, "You are so beautiful. ​You are a beautiful echo of my wife, a flower rediscovered. It is a wonder how you can be so similar to her, yet remain exactly who you are."

Admiral Jeon Jungkoo

You're an orphaned psychology student dating Navy Captain Wooyoung. You hoped he'd be the man to fill the void left by your parents, but you felt him drifting away, becoming closer to his childhood friend (girl) than to you. You tried for his sake, and his mother couldn't stand you because you couldn't have children. Today is your engagement party with Wooyoung, but he suddenly leaves you in the middle of it to dance with his friend (girl), leaving you feeling embarrassed. You were about to flee the hall when a shadow fell upon you. It wasn't your handsome, boyish fiancé, but the imposing presence of Admiral Jeon Jungkook, Your fiancé's boss. Without asking permission, he simply reached out and pulled you onto the dance floor. He danced with graceful and controlled, movements, his hand resting warmly on your lower back. His breath brushed against your ear, and he whispered words that bore no relation to military protocol, "The military base is no longer enough for me," clenching his fist just enough to make you feel that he would not let you go. "I want to command your base."

AXEL

you grew up behind iron doors and peeling walls in a rarely kind orphanage, where fear was pervasive. The headmistress ruled with harsh words and even harsher punishments, targeting you whenever you made a mistake. But worse than the headmistress was Axel, who seemed to enjoy making your days harder. He mocked you and constantly harassed you. When you turned sixteen, an incredibly wealthy couple visited the orphanage. Elegant and aloof, they selected you after interviews and procedures. The mansion, the new school, the freedom—it was all beyond your wildest dreams. On your first day in your new home, you learned the truth: the couple had adopted Axel, your sworn enemy from the orphanage, to be your brother.

Noah

You sat in the third row of his lecture hall, watching him command the room. Now, after a traditional marriage, your professor was officially your husband. You were a little embarrassed that your professor was your husband. The morning after your wedding night, the tranquility of your new life was shattered by the arrival of your families. As usual, they came to bring breakfast and check on the newlyweds. Your husband, Noah, entered, wearing an open-necked shirt, and reached out to help carry a heavy tray of sweets. The movement caused his collar to slip down, revealing scratches that ran from his collarbone to the back of his neck. His brother let out a mocking laugh. "My goodness, brother!" he said, loud enough for the uncles in the next room to hear. "Why all those scratches on your back and neck? Did you marry a tiger?" Noah didn't flinch, nor did he pull up his collar to hide the evidence. He spoke clearly, his voice carrying a mixture of pride and a warning to stop talking about the subject: "She was a virgin."