Di ja Pen

Take her." " Aunt!" A horrified gasp followed. " Do you mean it ?" A deep gruffly voice questioned. His voice was dripping with malice and beneath his eyes he gazed at the girl figure mostly on her bra straps and her ass slightly shot out. What if the deal you made turned into an unimaginable mistake beyond your control?. Several deals can be made in life , but one can either change or ruin your life . . Ixora was sold as a commodity to loan shark. No she was replaced with the debts of her greedy and wicked Aunt , Clarice . She was sold as a toy. Not knowing whose master to serve . Ixora found herself in the most dangerous clan in Spain as a sex toy. A toy that warms it's master bed and satisfy its master primal urges. A toy the master discard however and whenever he likes. A toy with no say or doing. Mafia's are everywhere , dangerous and wealthy. They own everything. Money , wealth , power belongs to them. They were dreaded so much that normal peasants like Adrianna never wanted to come across with them.. But Ixora ended up as a sex toy in a devil harem . The most dangerous harem in the whole of Spain. How did she end up this way? . Why is fate so cruel to her. At the age of twenty she is being sold out as a sex toy and worse , on her birthday!!!! ~ Hades Kings , the most dangerous Mafia Don in Spain. The King of Mafia's heirs. He is ruthless than the devil himself. His jawline line sharp and well chiseled , his features irresistibly seductive. It can break every wall of your resistance and his dark gray eyes that carried so much power within them . Hades who we call DIABLO [ DEVIL] , A SADISTIC AND CRUEL PSYCHOPATH Hades King is the leader of Kings empire , Kings Villa , Kings airline , King's brewery, King's publishing house , King's foodies a popularly know global restaurant and various more companies you can imagine. He got wealth at his feet and power in his grasp. Women's flooded themselves around him shamelessly . The men looked unto him with envy. But Hades has a dark past. One that hadn't been noticed by anyone yet and he is not ready to share it with anyone. IN HIS WORLD, WHERE, : El amo es traición (LOVE IS TREASON~) El cariño es quinididad (AFFECTION IS INQUITY~) La devoción es mortal (DEVOTION IS DEADLY ~) Hades got entangled with all these .

It all started with a Dare , a mean one a that . A Dare that would ruin her life and destroy her dreams . Every message pass through the messenger . And who was the messenger ?. Jayden Brooklyn , A name that would change her life forever . Dove William was a 3rd year psychology student , she kept to herself and avoided trouble as best as she can . She had her 1424 college plan ,and it was sailing great , until she met Jayden on her 1300 day on college . Unlike other girls , Dove hated distraction and and had few friends but when he came everything change. She tried pushing him off but he was like a leach and stucked to her annoyingly . " What was she going to do , he isn't part of her 1412 College plan.!" Jayden Stuck only to humiliate her! How it all started. *Club night.* On a dark evening ,the noise could be heard , crazy noise coming from drunk boys and girls ,some were underaged but there were rocking the party . Sex was also done openly without shame ! In a slightly calm room .The light was dim ,all that could be heard were loud kissing sounds and moans . Over the corner ,sat Jayden ,he had three girls pleasuring him but he soon lost interest . He push one away ,she tried to come closer but a glare stopped her ,the other two left without a word. " Boring " . A voice yelled. "Yea , let play a game " "What game should we play ? " Another asked " let play Truth or Dare " Another suggested , they all mummured with agreements . " Alright ,I will go first " .The girl picked the bottle with a dirty smirk on her face . "Spin !" "Spin!". The crowd yell and as she did . There was total silence as the bottle stopped rolling . Low gasps were heard . Jayden raised his head slowly, despite the dim light , his sexiness could not he hidden ,he had long hair that covered half of his face . His smoky gray eyes suited his aura , his lips was inviting , red cheery lips . Most girls got wet a just by staring at his face ,but don't be decieved by his looks , Jayden is a jerk , an arrogant and heartless play boy . A girl broken tears is like music in his ears. The girl smirked at Jayden, and bit her lip. The crowd stare anticipated . "So Jayden ,Truth or Dare ?."She asked staring at his lips . " Dare" .He muttered with aloofness , smoking wildly. The girl smirked in satisfaction ,as she stared at Jayden. " What the Dare going to be ? " " Ask me to fuck me just once". "Hey bitch !, Since we are friends let him ride me still sky." The girl stopped up , her skirt , or should I call it a pant exposed her underwear. Her Crop top had a deep cleavage ,she look beautiful but Jayden wasn't interested. Her boobs bounced freely as she walked closer , probably because she wasn't wearing a bra "What's is gonna be Charlotte ?" . Someone snapped . Her suspense was killing everyone. The girl named Charlotte smirked and pull out a photograph. ... "Here is the Dare ". She passed it to a guy ,who handed the picture over to everyone else , it was part of the truth and Dare ritual. As they were all standing to have a peep at the photograph. " Name Dove Moore ,a 300Law Student , she is 23of year ....and has never been in love ". Charlotte said the last sentence , staring at Jayden intently . Jayden eyes flew open as someone handed him the photograph . He glance at the photograph , Dove was wearing a frown but she still glowed she had a blond hair ,and her sapphire blue eyes shone . The picture wasn't a full one but anyone could see that she is beautiful . She had no make up on ,and her gaze was focused on a book . Jayden smirked . He loves having new girls , especially one that he can break . Charlotte with a frown said" Fuck with her and post it on the blog" Gasp filled the Air . . . . . ✓ ✓ ✓

On my wedding day, my father sold me to the Chicago Outfit to pay his debts. I was supposed to marry Alex Moreno, the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. But he couldn't even be bothered to show up. As I stood alone at the altar, humiliated, my best friend delivered the final blow. Alex hadn't just stood me up; he had run off to California with his mistress. The whispers in the cathedral turned me into a joke. I was damaged goods, the rejected bride. His family knew the whole time and let me take the public fall, offering me his cousins as pathetic replacements-a brute who hated me or a coward who couldn't protect me. The humiliation burned away my fear, leaving only cold rage. My life was already over, so I decided to set the whole game on fire myself. The marriage pact only said a Carlson had to marry a Moreno; it never said which one. With nothing left to lose, I looked past the pathetic boys they offered. I chose the one man they never expected. I chose his father, the Don himself.

My marriage to Joshua Caldwell was a prison sentence. I was a Hartman trophy, sold to the powerful family who had destroyed mine. Then I discovered he was cheating. His mistress was pregnant with the child he denied me, and he was stealing my secret song lyrics to build her career. When I confronted him, he called me a spineless liability and threatened to destroy what was left of my family. To make matters worse, a one-night stand with a stranger turned out to be with my husband's brother, Anthony Caldwell-the Don of the city. He knew all of Joshua's secrets and used them to trap me in a twisted game, seeing me as nothing more than an asset. They both thought I was a broken doll they could control. I wrote a song for his mistress, a beautiful execution with a single, impossible note I knew would destroy her voice. She sang it, and now her career is over. Now the Don has summoned me to Chicago, not knowing the woman he thinks is his asset is the one who just burned his brother's world to the ground.

I was the perfect Mafia wife, my dowry the foundation of my husband's ambition. I paid for his Yale degree, his tailored suits, and the very mansion he called his own. My reward? He paraded his mistress into my bedroom and declared her his second wife, expecting me to silently finance their affair. They thought they had broken a merchant's daughter. They forgot I was raised by wolves. Armed with a blood chit—a life debt owed to my family by the most feared man in Chicago—I walked into the lion's den. I went to Damien 'The Wraith' Falcone, the Dark Don who rules the Outfit with an iron fist, to demand a simple annulment. But the King of Chicago isn't interested in simple transactions. He saw the steel beneath my silk, the vendetta burning in my eyes. He granted me my freedom, but at a price: my allegiance. Now, I'm a pawn in his lethal game of thrones, caught between a treacherous husband I swore to destroy and a ruthless Don who looks at me with a terrifying, possessive hunger. In a city built on loyalty and betrayal, I'm about to teach them all that a queen's wrath is the deadliest weapon of all.

Three days after my fiancé publicly dumped me for my stepsister, the Supreme Don issued a command that silenced the entire estate. I wasn't being cast aside. I was being sold to Damien Russo. The "Broken Don." A crippled, scarred monster rumored to have murdered his last two wives. My adoptive mother, Elena, didn't cry for me. She smirked. To her, I was finally being disposed of. She was so confident I was walking to my death that she decided to loot my corpse before I even left. She forged documents to steal my entire inheritance—my biological mother’s trust fund—to pay for my stepsister’s lavish wedding to my ex. "She won't need money where she's going," my stepsister laughed, wearing a dress bought with my stolen funds. They thought they were sending a lamb to the slaughter. They thought I was too weak, too stupid, and too afraid of the monster to fight back. But they made a fatal mistake. With my aunt’s help, I didn't just find the proof of their embezzlement; I found a weapon. I’m not running from the monster. I’m going to marry him. And when I hand him the evidence that the Herrera family stole from his bride, he won't be my executioner. He will be my vengeance.

"Happy Anniversary," my husband said, sliding the separation agreement across the mahogany desk. It was the eighteenth time in five years I had signed these papers. Matteo De Luca, the most ruthless Capo in New York, checked his Rolex with cold impatience. "Sign it, Sera. Bianca is on the ledge again. She needs to see we're over, or she jumps." Bianca. The ward. The broken bird. The woman whose fragile psyche dictated every moment of my marriage. I signed my name, and he left me alone on our anniversary to save her. Again. But saving her wasn't enough. When Bianca pushed me down a flight of marble stairs in a fit of jealous rage, shattering my spine and leaving me paralyzed, I thought Matteo would finally choose me. I was wrong. I woke up in the hospital to find him holding her hand, not mine. "The security footage has been wiped," he told me, his voice void of emotion. "We cannot have a scandal. You fell, Sera. That is the story." He erased the truth. He erased my pain. He protected the woman who crippled me over his own wife. Two months later, he wheeled me into a gala, playing the doting husband while I sat in the chair that was my prison. He didn't know I had a burner phone hidden in my velvet dress. He didn't know that tonight, the obedient wife was going to die on the pavement, and a ghost would rise in her place. I looked at him one last time and dropped the phone in his lap. "I hope she's worth it."

I am the wife of Dante Moretti, a powerful Mafia Underboss. But in secret, I am "Spettro," the phantom architect who built his entire encrypted bootlegging empire. On my birthday, I came home to find him gifting our five-year-old daughter the exact plush toy he had violently slapped out of my hands months ago. Only this time, he was giving it to his mistress, Adriana, to present as her own. "Auntie Adriana is a million times better than Mommy." My daughter's innocent words pierced my heart, while Dante coldly dismissed my presence, treating me like an unwelcome stranger interrupting their perfect family. He mocked my mothering, allowed his mistress to sever my desperate phone calls with my child, and weaponized his power to break our daughter's spirit just to spite me. He sneered that my only purpose was to stay quiet, absolutely certain I would crawl back the second my allowance ran dry. He thought I was just a weak, submissive wife who had lost everything. He didn't realize that the empire he arrogantly ruled was entirely built on my stolen brilliance. I left my diamond ring on the table, violently slashed our ancient blood oath in half, and walked out of his gilded cage forever. Sitting in a cold warehouse, I placed my hands on my telegraph machine and initiated the Ghost Protocol to permanently paralyze his entire criminal network. The era of playing the dutiful wife was over. I am Donna Falcone, and the vendetta has just begun.

I stood before the altar of the grand gothic cathedral, about to marry Julian Moretti, the grieving adopted son stepping up for the comatose Don. To the hundreds of mafia men behind us, it was a dutiful wedding. But I knew the horrifying truth. Julian and his pregnant mistress, Clara, had orchestrated a brutal plot to steal my dowry and secure his place as the next Don. In my past life, I was completely blind to their betrayal. Julian trapped me in our apartment and set it ablaze. I could still feel the blistering heat of the fire. I could still hear my mother’s agonizing screams and my little brother Antonio’s desperate coughing as the smoke filled our lungs. My entire family was burned alive just so Julian could swap the brides and put his whore in my place. I died in pure agony, filled with hatred and despair, wondering why I had trusted a monster. God hadn't saved me from those flames. The Devil had. And he sent me back to this exact moment at the altar. "Do you, Isabella Rossi, take Julian Moretti to be your lawfully wedded husband?" the priest asked. Julian reached for my hand with a sickeningly gentle smile. I didn't give it to him. I tore back my lace veil and turned to face the crowd. "You are mistaken, Father," I said, my voice like ice. "The man I am bound to marry is your Don. Damien Moretti."

At my boyfriend's poorest moment, I suddenly broke up with him. Later, he became a Don in the Mafia and married me by any means necessary. Everyone said he loved me to the bone. But every night, he brought different women home, deliberately trying to provoke me. I asked no questions, shed no tears, and never disturbed his trysts with his mistresses. He went crazy with rage instead, kissing me fiercely and demanding, "Why aren't you jealous?" He didn't know I was sick. Dying. While he was furiously taking his revenge on me, I was slowly walking toward death.

For seven years, I was his eyes. But the moment he regained his sight, he decided to marry someone else. Seven years of devotion couldn't buy his heart. I gave him back his dignity. Now that he was restored as the Godfather of the New York Mafia, he laughed with others, degrading me to the status of a mere "mistress." He thought I didn't understand Italian, but I heard him loud and clear: he was going to marry his first love. He arrogantly believed I would always love him, willing to stay in his penthouse like a caged bird. But he was wrong. I boarded a one-way flight to Australia. Dante, I don't want you anymore. By the time he returned home, he would have lost me forever. But a sore loser refuses to concede. Even if he had to burn the world to the ground, he would search for me and beg for my forgiveness.

I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.