A young mother just wants to give her dying 8 years old son one last Christmas, but his father just wants his mistress and doesn't realize how much he is about to lose. When will his absent father find out his son has cancer? And will it be too late?

Kingpin Don Moretti, disguised as a janitor, Michael Smith, saves CEO Evelyn Hart and unexpectedly marries her. Hiding his empire, he watches her bravely face dangers beside him—until she learns that his power has always shielded her, and his love was his deepest secret.

To flee a forced marriage with Jake, Layla weds Ethan, a handsome slum-bred mechanic. Embracing his humble life, she is stunned as Ethan effortlessly crushes Jake’s provocations with elite skill. As secrets unravel, Layla discovers her "poor" husband is a hidden billionaire heir. Their accidental romance hides a billion-dollar secret.

Aroura is lured to New York by her father, who plans to sell her. On the train, she saves the bleeding mafia king, Vittoria. He falls instantly, becoming her obsessive protector, crushing all enemies. Through betrayals and bullets, he chases his bride. Together, they rise, untouchable in love.

When Lyra feigns amnesia to test her husband Marcus, he ruthlessly hands her off to his brother, Ethan, claiming he's her true spouse. Lyra then uncovers Marcus’s seven-year double life of S&M and infidelity with her best friend. Caught between a fake husband with a real heart and a real husband with a fake soul, the twisted "Husband Swap" begins.

Eight years ago, he knelt in the snow and fastened that necklace around her neck, saying, "Grace, I will spend my entire life loving only you." Eight years later, I broke down sobbing in the hallway of a children’s hospital. My daughter lay in ICU, diagnosed with stage-three leukemia—her match found, yet no one willing to donate bone marrow. The doctor said, "If we don’t get a donor soon, she won’t make it through the month." And him? He stood outside the Oval Office in the White House, listening to his campaign team erupt in cheers: "President elected! The youngest in history!" His mother gripped his hand tightly. "Now you’re the face of the nation. Tomorrow you must appear publicly with Isabella—end all rumors about that Chinese woman." He remained silent, staring out at the storm beyond the window. Inside a drawer lay a faded photograph—she in a qipao, smiling as she teased, "If you become president and forget me, I’ll tell the whole world you’re afraid of needles." Fate has never played fair. That night, desperate and clinging to a final thread of hope, I attended a charity gala, praying to meet a medical expert who might help. In the chaos, a little girl knocked over a VIP table. I bent down to pick up scattered items, fingers brushing against a platinum chain lying on the floor. My heart stopped. It was the engagement gift he’d given me on my eighteenth birthday—bought after selling his family’s heirloom pocket watch. Engraved on the back were tiny words: **To Grace, my only sun in winter.** I didn’t leave. Clutching the necklace, I raced toward the backstage area. He stood before the mirror adjusting his tie, sharp in a tailored suit, radiating power—an untouchable man from another world. I pushed the door open, voice trembling uncontrollably: "Gu Chengzhou, you don’t remember me, do you? But this chain you gave me—it saved my life three times." "Now… it’s my daughter’s turn." He spun around abruptly, eyes locking onto what was behind me. A five-year-old girl stood timidly at the doorway, wearing a pink knitted hat. Beneath it, just behind her left ear, a small red mole—one identical to his. The air froze. His lips moved, but no sound came out. Snowflakes drifted in through a crack in the floor-to-ceiling window, landing on his shoulder—just like the one that had settled on her lashes the day they first kissed so many winters ago. Then, without a word, he ripped off his presidential badge and dropped it to the ground. He strode forward, dropped to one knee before the child, hands shaking as he gently lifted her hat. The moment he saw the mole, tears spilled over. "What… what is her name?" I choked back sobs. "Gu Nian’en. She says her dad is a star in the sky, watching her every time she gets an injection." He looked up at me, eyes shattered with pain and disbelief. "You’re telling me… she calls me *Dad*?" Lights flickered overhead. Live news flashed across screens: [Presidential candidate Gu Chengzhou abruptly withdraws from election!] At the same time, my phone vibrated—a call from the hospital: [Matching results are in. Donor and recipient gene compatibility: 99.98%. Source: Presidential Medical Database.] The storm still raged. Old debts remained unpaid. This time, finally—he owed me, and now he would pay.