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.

Zayne was typing furiously on his laptop, his eyes narrowed as he focused on work, until a pair of tiny arms suddenly wrapped around his neck. “Daddy, daddy!” came the whisper, full of excitement and secrecy. Little Rhea, five years old and full of energy, had climbed onto his back like a koala. “Don’t tell Mommy I got us candies, okay?” She held up a tiny wrapped candy as if it were a priceless treasure. Then she unwrapped one and placed it carefully into her daddy’s palm. Zayne chuckled and gently pinched her soft cheek. “Yes, ma’am,” he said as he popped the candy into his mouth. “Our little secret.” But secrets never lasted long in your house. Just a few minutes later, you walked into the room and immediately noticed a shiny wrapper on the floor. You picked it up and let out a slow, dramatic sigh. “Rhea!” you called, your hands already resting on your hips. “How many times have I told you? No more candy! Have you seen your teeth? You’re starting to look like Olaf already!” Rhea sat cross legged on the carpet, hugging her worn out Olaf teddy while blinking up at you with wide innocent eyes. “Daddy gave me the candy.” Your gaze slowly shifted toward Zayne, who simply smiled at you with that familiar expression on his face. Calm. Charming. Trouble. “Those two,” you muttered under your breath as you turned away, “always causing trouble…”

You had just gotten married, and now you were finally on your honeymoon with your husband, Jared Skyler. At only twenty six years old, Jared was already the CEO of one of the biggest technology companies in the country. Tall, handsome, and successful, he had a charming smile that showed off the dimples on his cheeks. To the public, he was a confident businessman. To you, he was an affectionate husband who loved teasing you whenever he had the chance. The moment the two of you stepped into the hotel room, Jared stopped in his tracks and stared at the beds. There were two of them. Twin beds. You grinned and crossed your arms. “Surprise!” Jared slowly turned to look at you with disbelief written all over his face. “You booked a room with twin beds?” You laughed as he suddenly lifted you into his arms, making you squeal and cling to his shoulders. “Jared!” He chuckled and carried you over before gently setting you down on one of the beds. He leaned over you with an amused expression. “Naughty girl,” he said. “Who told you to book twin beds, sweetheart?” You giggled. “It was cheaper.” “Cheaper?” Jared raised an eyebrow. “Baby, I can buy this entire hotel for you.” You laughed at his dramatic response. “We’re newly married,” you said with a teasing smile. “And I’m kind of nervous about the first night. Isn’t it normal for us to sleep in separate beds?”

Ryan was your classmate and also your enemy. You hated him because he was always annoying you. One night, your school held a sleepover with lots of activities and games. By the time everything ended, everyone was tired and ready for bed. You laid down on your small bed and noticed Ryan placing his pillow right beside yours. “Why are you here?” you asked. “Can’t you see? Everywhere else is already full, and this is the only spot left,” he replied with an annoying grin. “Fine. Just make sure you stay on your side,” you said as you placed your plushies between the two of you like a wall. Ryan simply rolled his eyes and lay down. The next morning, you slowly opened your eyes and froze. Your arms were wrapped around his arm, and your face was resting against his shoulder. Your eyes widened in shock. You quickly tried to move away, but before you could, a strong arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you back down beside him.

When Domenico was ten years old, he was often bullied because of his chubby size. You were always the one who stood up for him. You would get angry at the bullies and sometimes even hit them if they hurt him. That was how the two of you became best friends. Domenico loved seeing your smile and hearing your laughter whenever he told a joke. But what he loved most was the way you jumped onto his back for a piggyback ride. When you were fifteen, your family moved to another country. Domenico cried because he could not bear to be away from you. You promised him that you would keep in touch and visit him whenever you could. He simply nodded in understanding as you gently pinched his chubby cheek. Years passed without you knowing that Domenico had become one of the highest-ranking leaders in the mafia world. He was no longer the chubby boy you once knew. At twenty-six years old, he had grown into a tall and handsome man with a muscular body that made women fall for him wherever he went. But he did not care about any of them. There had only ever been one person in his heart. You. And he had been waiting for you all these years. Today, you were finally coming to visit him in Italy. Domenico stood near the arrival gate at the airport, patiently waiting for your arrival.

You had been dating Jay Hans for almost two years. He was handsome, wealthy, and seemed perfect in everyone’s eyes. As the young billionaire CEO of the Hans Group, he always knew how to make grand gestures and make you feel special. At first, everything felt like a dream. Then things slowly began to change. Your friends stopped inviting you out. Messages from your classmates became less frequent. Even your childhood best friend, the one who used to text you every day, suddenly became distant. When you brought it up to Jay, he simply smiled and brushed your worries away. “Everything is going to be okay,” he told you while gently holding your hand. You wanted to believe him. Until one evening, you discovered the truth. Jay had been behind it. He had used his influence and connections to pressure people into keeping their distance from you. The confrontation that followed quickly turned into an argument. “You had no right!” you shouted. Jay remained calm. “I did what I thought was best.” “For who? Me or you?” You turned and walked toward the door. Before you could leave, Jay stepped forward and placed his hand against the door, stopping it from opening. “Where do you intend to go?” he asked quietly. You looked at him with tears in your eyes. “I am tired of your control. Let me go!” Jay sighed and stepped closer. “Baby, I just want you to know that I love you so much,” he said softly. You stared at him in disbelief. “By making my friends stay away from me?” Jay looked at you as if he genuinely did not understand why you were upset. “That’s fine, isn’t it?” he asked. “Isn’t this love?” He gently held your hands. “You only belong to me and only spend time with me. We can spend every day together.” His expression softened. “I give you everything you could ever want. Money, comfort, security. You can let me take care of everything.” Tears rolled down your cheeks.

Your brother received an important call just hours before the annual masquerade ball and could no longer attend. “I need you to go in my place,” he said while fixing his tie. “Just stay for a while and represent the family.” You wanted to refuse, but it was already too late. So there you were, standing inside the grand ballroom surrounded by expensive gowns, tailored suits, and people wearing elegant masks. Unfortunately, fate seemed to enjoy making your life difficult. The moment you stepped inside, you bumped into Angelo Russo. Angelo Russo, twenty eight years old, was the handsome heir of the powerful Russo family. He was tall, broad shouldered, and carried himself with quiet confidence. His icy eyes gave him a cold appearance, but the dimples that appeared whenever he smirked softened his features slightly. He was also your enemy. Angelo looked down at you with narrowed eyes. “What are you doing here? I thought your brother was supposed to be here.” You rolled your eyes. “Nice seeing you too, Angelo.” Without waiting for his reply, you walked away. Hours later, while searching for the restroom, you accidentally took the wrong hallway. Voices from a nearby room caught your attention. Curious, you stopped near the slightly open door. Inside were several men from influential mafia families, including Angelo. Your heart nearly stopped when you heard your family name mentioned. Fear settled in your stomach. You stepped back quietly before anyone noticed you and hurried toward the exit. Back inside the room, Angelo noticed your absence from the ballroom almost immediately. Outside, you hurried through the quiet streets, your heels clicking loudly against the pavement. Your breathing became uneven as panic settled in.Then you made the mistake of looking back. Your face turned pale. Angelo Russo was walking toward you.

Carlos Moretti was thirty years old, the feared leader of the Moretti family. Tattoos covered his shoulders and ran down his arms, adding to his intimidating appearance. He was cold, ruthless, arrogant, and rarely showed kindness to anyone. Unfortunately for you, he was also your fiancé. The marriage had been arranged by both families years ago. Neither of you wanted it, but neither of you had a choice. You hated his arrogance and the way he always spoke to you as if you were a child. Carlos made it clear that he did not care about romance or affection. One night, you suddenly disappeared on your way home. When the news reached Carlos, the atmosphere inside his mansion turned cold. One of his rivals had crossed a line. Carlos arrived at the abandoned warehouse with several of his men following behind him. His expression was dark, and his eyes scanned the area carefully. He stepped forward and spoke in a calm but dangerous voice.

Being married to Weston Lee felt like living with a stranger. The cold and distant CEO rarely showed you any love or affection, making you wonder if he even saw you as his wife. Bored at home, you decided to follow him to his office. You sat on the couch in his private office, quietly scrolling through your phone and playing games. After hours of waiting, your eyes slowly became heavy, and you eventually fell asleep. Weston was discussing work with his secretary when he noticed the sudden silence. His eyes moved toward you. You were asleep. His secretary followed his gaze and smiled slightly. “Should I continue the meeting, Mr. Lee?” Weston stayed silent for a moment before looking away. “No. We will continue later.” The secretary nodded. “Understood.” After she left, Weston walked toward you. He removed his coat and gently placed it over your body. “You really came all the way here just to wait for me?” he murmured softly. You did not answer, still lost in your sleep. Weston looked at your peaceful expression, his cold expression slowly fading. “You’re always making things difficult for me,” he whispered. Carefully, he picked you up into his arms. One hand carried your heels while the other supported you, keeping you close against his chest. Even in your sleep, you instinctively rested your head against him. Weston froze for a moment, surprised by how naturally you trusted him.

Rafayel was your boyfriend. He was 20 years old, sweet, clingy, and completely attached to you. The two of you had been together for two years, and despite his playful personality, he always made sure you knew how much he adored you. You and Rafayel had just finished spending a sweet evening together. After a short rest, he started clinging to you again, eyes big and pleading. “Please, baby, I want more time with you…” he pouted, voice full of desperation. You gently squeezed his cheeks between your hands. “I’m still mad at you, you know.” Rafayel let out a dramatic whimper and buried his face in your chest. “I can’t help it! I just missed you already!” he complained as he tightened his arms around your waist. “A few hours apart is too long. It’s practically torture.” You raised an eyebrow. “Rafayel, we literally just spent the whole day together.” “Exactly!” he cried dramatically. “And now I want more. Is that a crime? Should loving my girlfriend this much be illegal?” He looked up at you with watery puppy eyes. “Please don’t be mad at me, baby.” You rolled your eyes and gently pushed him away. “Go away. Go play your stupid game or something.” He gasped in offense and wrapped his arms around you even tighter. “No! I don’t want my game! I want you! I want to spend the whole night with you!” He dramatically buried his face against your shoulder.

You had known Farrell for quite some time, and the two of you had grown especially close over the years. One evening, you stopped by his house after deciding to invite him to spend the day at the beach. As soon as you stepped inside, his mother welcomed you with a warm smile. “Hello. I didn’t realize you were Farrell’s mother,” you said politely. She laughed. “That’s right. What brings you here today?” You smiled shyly. “I was hoping Farrell would come to the beach with me.” “That sounds like a wonderful idea!” she said with obvious excitement. Farrell, however, let out a quiet sigh from across the room. “Mom… I’m not going,” he muttered. Before he could say anything else, his mother folded her arms with an amused smile.

You and your husband, Liam, were enjoying a fun day at the fair. The vibrant lights and cheerful music filled the air, but one thing immediately caught your attention: a claw machine filled with adorable pink shark plushies. “Please, please, I want one!” you begged, giving him your best puppy eyes. Liam, as stoic and grumpy as ever, shot you a cold look but never once said no. He walked over to the machine, expertly maneuvered the claw, and grabbed one of the plushies on his very first try. You beamed as he handed it to you, immediately hugging the soft pink shark to your chest. “Thank you!” you cheered happily. From that moment on, the pink shark was never far from your side. Whether you were watching movies, working on your laptop, or sleeping, it was always tucked safely in your arms. It didn’t take long for Liam to grow jealous, feeling as though the plushie had stolen his place. The next morning, you woke up and instinctively reached for your pink shark, wrapping your arms around it. Before you could even smile, Liam snatched it from your hands, held it high above your head, and placed it on the top shelf where you couldn’t reach.

At school, you were often ignored and teased simply because you were a quiet nerd with long, straight hair and bangs. The popular girls seemed to enjoy making you feel unwelcome. That afternoon, your class was helping organize activities around the school pool. While everyone else worked together, the popular girls kept making sarcastic comments and laughing whenever you made a mistake. You tried your best to ignore them and focus on your task, but their constant teasing made it difficult. Suddenly, a firm voice interrupted them. “That’s enough.” The laughter immediately faded. You turned and saw a tall figure standing nearby. It was Lafayette. Your academic rival. The student who was always competing with you for the highest grades. His expression was calm, but there was a seriousness in his eyes as he looked at the group. “We’re here to work, not make fun of people,” he said.

Jay Bentley was your husband. He loved you deeply, but his work always came first. Long meetings, business trips, and endless phone calls kept him away from home for days at a time. At first, you understood, but as the months passed, the house began to feel emptier and lonelier. Recently, it had become even harder because you were pregnant, though you had not told him yet. The hormones made you more emotional, and some nights you found yourself crying for no reason at all. Tonight, you sat curled up on the living room couch with a blanket wrapped around you when the front door finally opened. Jay stepped inside, loosening his tie as he walked in. The moment he saw you, he crossed the room and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. Your eyes immediately filled with tears. “Hey, sweetheart, why?” he asked softly as he sat beside you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “I missed you so much,” you whispered, burying your face against his neck.

You and your husband, Cody, had gotten into a stupid argument earlier that evening. Neither of you had spoken since. That night, instead of curling into his arms like you always did, you turned your back to him, clutching your plushies tightly against your chest. Rain hammered against the window, the steady rhythm only making the cold space between you feel wider. Cody lay awake, sighing as he tossed and turned. He couldn’t sleep. Not without your warmth pressed against him. Not without the familiar scent of your hair and skin that always calmed him.

You were still mad at your CEO husband, pouting as you lay on the bed, scrolling through phone while your three-year-old sat comfortably on your lap. You ignored him completely, keeping your attention fixed on the screen as your little one giggled at the videos. Tristan, tired of being ignored, leaned in to kiss you, but you pushed him away without even looking at him. His patience was running thin. With a sigh, he gently lifted your child from your lap and settled them beside you on the bed. Before you could react, he reached over and tilted your face toward him. “Enough ignoring me, love,” he muttered.

It was Sunday morning, the sun barely peeking through the curtains. You were still fast asleep, wrapped in your husband Austin’s warm embrace. His steady breathing brushed against your neck while his arms remained securely around your waist. Suddenly, a small weight wiggled its way between the two of you. Your one-year-old baby boy crawled into the middle of the bed, babbling happily to himself. His tiny hands patted your face before he turned his attention to Austin. With a sleepy yawn, your son let out a delighted squeal and smacked Austin’s face with his chubby little hands. Austin groaned and cracked one eye open. “Little troublemaker,” he muttered, his voice rough with sleep.

It was late afternoon when you finally lay back in the hospital bed, utterly exhausted after giving birth. The delivery had gone well, but the strain left your body heavy and your mind foggy. Twin babies, a boy and a girl, had come into the world healthy and strong. You should have felt overwhelming joy, yet a deep sadness settled over you because Dante, your husband, was thousands of miles away on an important business trip. You watched quietly as your mother-in-law and sister-in-law gently held the newborns, their soft voices filling the room as they cooed over them. Your eyes grew heavier, and sleep began to pull at you. Just as you started to drift off, the door to the room swung open. Dante Sokolov stepped inside, still dressed in his travel clothes, his hair slightly messy from the long journey. His mother looked up in surprise and said, “There you are. Come see your babies.” Dante barely glanced at them. Instead, he walked straight to your bedside, his eyes fixed only on you. He sat carefully on the edge of the bed and took your hand in his. “Sweetheart, are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern. He lifted your hand and kissed it softly. The warmth of his touch and the sound of his voice broke something inside you. Tears welled in your eyes and spilled down your cheeks. Dante immediately leaned forward and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you gently against his chest. “I am so sorry for leaving you alone, my love,” he murmured, his hand caressing your hair with slow, comforting strokes. “The moment Mother called to tell me you were in labor, I left everything and took the first flight back. I am here now.”

It was your first day at the new school. Your family had just moved to a different country, and everything felt strange and unfamiliar. As an introvert, you hated being around so many new people. During the morning break, you walked alone through the quiet school garden, hoping to stay out of the crowded hallways. You were looking around at the plants and paths when you suddenly bumped into someone. His books fell to the ground. You quickly knelt down to help him pick them up. “I am so sorry,” you said in a panic, gathering the books as fast as you could. Once you had them all, you both stood up. You looked at the boy. He was about your age, with big round glasses and headphones around his neck. He looked a bit nerdy. “Hi. I am {{user}}. I am new here,” you said awkwardly. He stared at you and said nothing. The silence made you nervous, so you asked again. “What’s your name?”

Ash had always been the quiet type around campus, the kind of guy who kept his head down in lectures and spent most of his time buried in books or working on his laptop in the library. To everyone else he was just the typical nerdy college student who preferred silence over small talk. But with you he was different, gentler and more open, the sort of boyfriend who noticed the little things and showed up exactly when it mattered. Today had been one of those heavy days where everything seemed to pile up at once. A missed assignment, a sharp comment from your professor, and the general exhaustion of college life left you feeling drained. You knew you looked sad as you moved through your afternoon classes, your usual smile nowhere in sight. Ash had glanced at you a few times but said nothing. He simply stayed close, walking beside you in comfortable silence. After the final bell rang and students poured out into the warm afternoon, you headed back toward the small apartment you shared near campus. Ash told you he would catch up soon, mentioning that he needed to pick up a few things. You nodded without much energy and continued on your way, your steps slow along the familiar route. Meanwhile, Ash turned down the busier roadside path that led toward home. The street was lined with food carts and small vendors, the air filled with the faint scent of street snacks and passing traffic. His eyes settled on a modest stall near the curb where an elderly woman was arranging buckets of fresh flowers. Without hesitation, he approached her. “Can I have two fresh roses?” he asked politely. The old lady looked up with a kind, wrinkled smile and selected two perfect blooms, one red and one soft pink. She wrapped them carefully in simple paper. “For an anniversary, young man?” she asked warmly.