A decade of devotion later, Aurora learns her wealthy husband Chuck neglects their daughter Molly for his first love Mia and her son. Heartbroken, Aurora seeks divorce; Molly gives Chuck a second chance but is hurt again, leaving with her mother. Aurora’s long-lost godfather offers Chuck a billion dollar order, which Chuck mistakenly attributes to Mia. Overwhelming regret hits when he learns the truth—but by then, Molly has completely given up on him.

Gabrielle Taylor, a bold young model, is publicly humiliated and fired after discovering her ex is marrying her best friend. A spontaneous kiss with powerful CEO Kyle Wright sets off a chain of events that pulls her into his world. Hired as his assistant, Gabrielle must navigate ambition, romance, and betrayal in a glamorous, high-stakes world.

To save her mother, Melissa enters a transactional arrangement with paraplegic billionaire Owen. Their deal turns into love, threatened by his manipulative mother and jealous ex, Nina. When Nina kidnaps the pregnant Melissa, Owen miraculously walks to rescue her, exposing the plot.

After a reckless one-night stand with equestrian champion Phillips Hobbs, hotel maid Cindy Becker is caught in a scandal that forces them into a flash marriage. Bound by pride and passion yet divided by class and circumstance, their fragile union faces relentless tests—from Phillips’ devoted fiancée to the weight of family expectations. But as jealousy, rivalry, and sacrifice threaten to tear them apart, Cindy and Phillips uncover a truth neither expected: their lives have been intertwined long before that night.

At the elite gala, crystal chandeliers shimmering above champagne towers, Juliet Hayes stepped into the ballroom in a crimson gown, a silver small-caliber pistol aimed at Victor Astor’s chest. “You owe me,” she sneered, eyes sharp as blades. “Did you think I wouldn’t come back—when you left me on that Venetian bridge three years ago?” Silence gripped the room. Victor only smiled, lifting his wine glass with deliberate grace. “Oh? Then tell me—exactly who are you?” The livestream chat exploded: [No way! This Juliet is fake! The real Miss Hayes has been locked away in a sanatorium by Victor for five years!] [Plot twist incoming! Every move she makes is part of his script!] [Even her name was given by him… oh god, she’s just a doll he created…] Juliet froze. She remembered the night she fled the slums—he gave her the name "Juliet," taught her aristocratic diction, sent her into Parisian high society. She thought it was love. It was training. “You think you’re here for revenge?” Victor set down his glass, stepping closer. “But you don’t even realize it—your dress, your words, even the way you hold that gun—all written by my brother, Jasper, just for you.” She pulled the trigger. The gunshot rang out. But it wasn’t Victor who fell—it was the bodyguard rushing in behind her, blood blooming across his chest, the Hayes family crest pinned to his jacket. “He’s the real one.” Victor’s voice turned icy. “And you? You wouldn’t pass a DNA test.” Staggering backward, Juliet crashed into the champagne tower. Glass shattered. On the grand screen at the far end of the hall, surveillance footage flickered to life—a pale woman in a wheelchair, smiling quietly at the camera. *That* is Juliet Hayes.” Victor said. “I’ve killed seven impostors before you. You’re the eighth.” She finally understood—no one ever intended for her to walk out alive the moment she stepped onto that red carpet. In the next breath, she dropped to her knees—not in surrender, but raised the gun to her own temple. “If I’m not her… then who am I?” Victor looked down, whispering like a lover’s kiss: “You were my most perfect forgery. Pity—even the finest counterfeit must burn.” Flames crept from the hem of her dress. Music swelled once more. At the center of the dance floor, only a pair of bloodstained red dancing shoes remained, slowly spinning.

The chandelier in the ballroom glared harshly, casting sharp light over the scene. Red wine dripped down Alison's crimson dress, trailing like blood. A blonde socialite sneered, "You actually brought a fake bag to my son’s engagement party? Aren’t you ashamed?" Silence swallowed the room. Alison knelt on the floor, fingers clawing at the carpet until her nails nearly split. She looked up at her best friend—the one who once called her “sister”—only to see her quietly sipping wine, avoiding eye contact. She turned to the brand director she’d worked with for three years; he was already walking away. Even her cousin, whom she’d helped countless times, took a quiet half-step back, as if afraid of catching some contagion. Her phone vibrated inside her purse. The butler’s trembling voice came through: “Miss… Mr. Li is boarding now. It’ll take at least forty minutes…” She laughed, a broken sound, tears slipping into the corners of her mouth. “So… I really have no one after all.” Then—**the ballroom doors burst open.** The click of high heels stopped dead. A figure stood in the doorway—gray suit perfectly tailored, tie slightly loosened, eyes so cold they froze the noise in the air. He strode forward, his polished shoes silent on the carpet, yet each step pressed like weight on every heartbeat. The entire room held its breath. He dropped to one knee before her, shrugged off his coat, and draped it gently over her shoulders. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the hall like a blade: “Who gave you the right… to touch my fiancée?” He lifted his gaze to the sneering woman, lips curling in disdain. “And that bag? A one-of-a-kind piece I personally commissioned in Paris. You call it fake—so it must be?” The air turned to ice. Suddenly, the chat exploded: 【HOLY SHIT! That’s him—the elusive CEO of the Li Corporation!】 【OMG the female lead just activated her main storyline!!!】 【Don’t cry, girl—this is only the first step of your legendary comeback!!】 Alison stared up at him, stunned. And he—gently wiping the wine stain from her cheek—whispered only for her to hear: “I’ve waited five years… finally found you.”