The Studio The smell of turpentine and decay was ever-present. The two scents, one artificial and sharp, the other organic and sour, swirled together in the basement studio beneath a brownstone at the edge of Chicago's art district. Elias Granger stood barefoot on a drop cloth splattered with flecks of red-paint, mostly. He held a palette in one hand and a brush in the other. On the easel before him was a canvas nearly complete: the portrait of a woman with auburn hair, blue-gray eyes, and a soft expression. Her smile was serene, almost beatific. Elias smiled, mirroring the expression on the canvas. "You're perfect now, Emily," he whispered. He set down the brush and turned to the real Emily-what was left of her, anyway-sitting across the room in a battered, velvet armchair. Rigor mortis had long passed, but he'd preserved her well enough. Her head slumped slightly to the side, skin pale and waxy under the harsh white light. Her expression, once contorted in fear, had been gently adjusted into something more... suitable. He leaned in close and studied her face. "Don't worry," he said softly. "The gallery show is next month. They'll see you. They'll see all of you."
The Studio
The smell of turpentine and decay was ever-present. The two scents, one artificial and sharp, the other organic and sour, swirled together in the basement studio beneath a brownstone at the edge of Chicago's art district.
Elias Granger stood barefoot on a drop cloth splattered with flecks of red-paint, mostly. He held a palette in one hand and a brush in the other. On the easel before him was a canvas nearly complete: the portrait of a woman with auburn hair, blue-gray eyes, and a soft expression. Her smile was serene, almost beatific.
Elias smiled, mirroring the expression on the canvas. "You're perfect now, Emily," he whispered.
He set down the brush and turned to the real Emily-what was left of her, anyway-sitting across the room in a battered, velvet armchair. Rigor mortis had long passed, but he'd preserved her well enough. Her head slumped slightly to the side, skin pale and waxy under the harsh white light. Her expression, once contorted in fear, had been gently adjusted into something more... suitable.
He leaned in close and studied her face. "Don't worry," he said softly. "The gallery show is next month. They'll see you. They'll see all of you."
The Collector" In the quiet town of Elmridge, nothing ever really happened-until people started disappearing. Detective Mara Lin had seen her share of murderers, but nothing prepared her for the case that would haunt her long after retirement. Each victim was meticulously chosen: no connections, no patterns-just ordinary people plucked from their lives. The bodies, when found, were always displayed like works of art: posed, eyes open, smiling. A single white rose in their hand. The media dubbed the killer "The Collector." What no one knew was that The Collector lived among them. Thomas Avery, a charming local librarian with an encyclopedic knowledge of true crime, spent his days recommending books and chatting with elderly patrons. He was the last person anyone suspected. At night, however, Thomas transformed. He wasn't driven by rage or revenge. He didn't hear voices or feel compelled. He was simply... curious. What did fear look like? How did the human body respond to slow, methodical dissection? Could he recreate the perfect expression of peace in death? He documented everything-scrapbooks filled with notes, Polaroids, and autopsy sketches. He believed each "project" brought him closer to understanding the soul. But he made one mistake: Mara Lin's niece was his eleventh. Mara followed the clues no one else saw-the misplaced library checkout timestamps, the rare flower only found in Thomas's greenhouse, the way he always seemed to know more than he let on. When she finally cornered him in his basement studio, she saw what he had done. And Thomas, smiling like one of his lifeless portraits, simply said, "Do you see it now, detective? The beauty in stillness?" Mara didn't respond. She just raised her gun and ended the collection.
Melanie married Ashton out of gratitude, but she quickly found herself entangled in a web of relentless challenges. Despite these struggles, she stayed true to her commitment to the marriage. In the hospital room, Ashton indifferently attempted to draw her blood, disregarding her discomfort. This callous act was a harsh revelation for Melanie, awakening her to the grim reality of their relationship. Resolved to prioritize her own welfare, she decided to sever ties. With newfound resolve, Melanie filed for divorce. In the process, she unveiled her concealed identities, leaving everyone in shock. Throughout these turbulent times, Melanie realized that Derek, Ashton’s uncle, had been discreetly protecting her all along.
Elena, once a pampered heiress, suddenly lost everything when the real daughter framed her, her fiancé ridiculed her, and her adoptive parents threw her out. They all wanted to see her fall. But Elena unveiled her true identity: the heiress of a massive fortune, famed hacker, top jewelry designer, secret author, and gifted doctor. Horrified by her glorious comeback, her adoptive parents demanded half her newfound wealth. Elena exposed their cruelty and refused. Her ex pleaded for a second chance, but she scoffed, “Do you think you deserve it?” Then a powerful magnate gently proposed, “Marry me?”
"Please trust me, I didn't do anything." "I don't believe you. I am rejecting you as my Queen and giving you the punishment of death." Alina was living outside her pack for five years. Her parents didn't try to contact her and always ignored her. Her best friend convinced her to go back to their pack and she agreed. But she had never imagined what was waiting there for her. She never thought she would meet her mate and had to face betrayal from everywhere. She had to pay for the crime which she never committed. Aaron Robertson is the king of Lycans. He is a very dominant and powerful King who not only rules Lycans but also rules other ranks of werewolves. Everyone is afraid of Lycans and he is the king of them. But who knew that he would get a mate who was just a simple Omega with no powers and strengths? He called her weak all the time but little did he know that his weak Omega would give him the biggest betrayal of his life for which he had to give her the sentence of death.
For ten years, Daniela showered her ex-husband with unwavering devotion, only to discover she was just his biggest joke. Feeling humiliated yet determined, she finally divorced him. Three months later, Daniela returned in grand style. She was now the hidden CEO of a leading brand, a sought-after designer, and a wealthy mining mogul—her success unveiled at her triumphant comeback. Her ex-husband’s entire family rushed over, desperate to beg for forgiveness and plead for another chance. Yet Daniela, now cherished by the famed Mr. Phillips, regarded them with icy disdain. "I’m out of your league."
Blinded in a crash, Cary was rejected by every socialite—except Evelina, who married him without hesitation. Three years later, he regained his sight and ended their marriage. "We’ve already lost so many years. I won’t let her waste another one on me." Evelina signed the divorce papers without a word. Everyone mocked her fall—until they discovered that the miracle doctor, jewelry mogul, stock genius, top hacker, and the President's true daughter… were all her. When Cary came crawling back, a ruthless tycoon had him kicked out. "She's my wife now. Get lost."
Darya spent three years loving Micah, worshipping the ground he walked on. Until his neglect and his family's abuse finally woke her up to the ugly truth-he doesn't love her. Never did, never will. To her, he is a hero, her knight in shining armour. To him, she is an opportunist, a gold digger who schemed her way into his life. Darya accepts the harsh reality, gathers the shattered pieces of her dignity, divorces him, takes back her real name, reclaims her title as the country's youngest billionaire heiress. Their paths cross again at a party. Micah watches his ex-wife sing like an angel, tear up the dance floor, then thwart a lecher with a roundhouse kick. He realises, belatedly, that she's exactly the kind of woman he'd want to marry, if only he had taken the trouble to get to know her. Micah acts promptly to win her back, but discovers she's now surrounded by eligible bachelors: high-powered CEO, genius biochemist, award-winning singer, reformed playboy. Worse, she makes it pretty clear that she's done with him. Micah gears up for an uphill battle. He must prove to her he's still worthy of her love before she falls for someone else. And time is running out.