Eagle Woman

Annette Vasquez is broken and desperate to talk to Ryan, her ex-boyfriend who broke up with her a month ago. When an intimidating man appears on her door dressed in all blacks, she runs for cover and sends Ryan a text for help. Vicente Di Alberto is the Don of the Italian Mafia, cold, ruthless and untouchable. A strange message pops up on his phone which has him acting on impulse. He hates men who hurts women and he is ready to save and protect the woman calling for his help. Rescued by a sinfully handsome man, Ann feels safe around him until she finds out his real identity and also finds herself married accidentally to the most feared man in Italy. She wants out but Vicente is ready to use the accidental marriage to his advantage.

Claire thought she had everything figured out. After discovering that another woman was pregnant with her husband's child, she made up her mind-she was done with Xandros. Armed with divorce papers, she walked out of his life, ready to take control of her own future. But what she didn't expect was for Xandros to let her go so easily. Then everything went dark. When Claire woke up in a hospital with no memory of how she got there, she's stunned to learn from her friend, Quinn, that she's married to Xandros-and that she's just ended their marriage the night before. But there's more-her father won't say a word about who Xandros really was. What happened to her? Why was she divorcing him? And what exactly did Xandros do to ruin her so completely? With nothing but a blurry past and a dangerous need for revenge, Claire is determined to reclaim her memory and get back at the man who betrayed her-even if she's carrying his babies.

Andrea Silva was forced to marry her twin sister’s supposed boyfriend after her twin sister, Camila Silva ran away. Andrea was deeply heartbroken when she found out the man she had just wedded was in love with her sister and she was just a substitute till Camila was back. Andrea thought she could make Damine Fel fall for her but what would happens when her sister comes back and want her boyfriend back? What would happen when her husband forced her to agree to a divorce? What would happen when she found out she was pregnant for him but he didn’t want anything to do with her?

Arabella finds out she is pregnant with a child for her husband, Richard Giodano. She wants to inform him about it when she hears him speaking on the phone with Eve Rogers, his ex-lover. Because of Eve's arrival back into the states, Richard wants a divorce. That has always been the plan until he finds Eve cheating on him with his best friend. Five years later, they bump into each other at a party and Richard finds out his ex-wife is not only back with a child but is also a hot sexy CEO of Eagle Homes and Interiors. Even when she pretends not to know him, he vows to stop at nothing to chase after and win her back.

When Valerie Adams gets to know that she is betrothed to the youngest billionaire in New York, just to save her father's dying company, it is two nights after she caught her boyfriend cheating on her with her best friend. She is upset with the news of the betrothal and becomes more pissed when she finally meets him. Ryan Lorenzo is the most arrogant, pompous, and cold-hearted guy she will ever cross paths with. He is less interested in keeping a woman but what he needs is a wife to satisfy his parent's desires for him to be married and considered responsible. Valerie decides to take advantage of the situation, to save her father's company and to make her cheating boyfriend jealous. She suggests a CONTRACT for their marriage and Ryan is making the RULES.

When Jasmine Cooper runs into a drunk rapist, a man saves her. It is Xavier Ravarivelo, the billionaire Mafia whose bride left him at the altar. Jasmine Cooper looks just like his run-away bride, Andre, who was being forced to walk down the aisles with Xavier. Jasmine has the same look and tattoo as Andre but different hair color and personality. Taking her against her will; he forces her to marry him. He wants revenge for the humiliation he got after his supposed bride left him at the altar but Jasmine is hell-ass sure she never abandoned anyone at the altar. How will Xavier find out that Jasmine is different from his runaway bride? How long will it take for Xavier to note the difference between Jasmine and Andre?

"He is not yours!" She affirms with a confident and unwavering look. "Whose child is he, then?" I question, my eyes wandering to the boy with piercing blue eyes like mine. Celine narrows her eyes with her hands clenched. "He is mine!" "What about his father? Who is he?" I drop my hands lazily and watch her intensely. "That is none of your business." She says defensively. "It means he is mine and I am taking him", I conclude with a smile and walk past her to pick up the child who is already dozing off. "No, no, no!" Celine chants, blocking my way. "Please, don't take him. I beg you!" **** After realizing she was pregnant which was not part of the deal she made with Billionaire Bryan Martinez, Celine left his mansion before the end of the contract. When they meet again and he discovered the secret she was hiding from him, he decided to punish her by taking custody of the child. What will happen when the baby wants his mother close to him? Will this reunion blossom the love between them before her departure? How sweet will Bryan's revenge be for Celine?

It Is a one-night stand for a 24 years old college girl, Annabelle. With no strings attached. When she sees her baby father on the cover page of a magazine tagged as a billionaire and a Casanova, her mother is set on using him to change their poor status. Aidan is a 26 years old billionaire with a high sexual urge, ever since the night with Anna. He is less interested in keeping a woman and having a baby is totally out of it. When confronted with the news of Anna's pregnancy, he denies it until her mother threatens to tarnish his image. Will Aidan agree to the marriage? Will Anna keep the pregnancy even after the rejection? Will she be able to take his insults and the fact that he finds her unwanted?

Isabella needs a huge sum of money for her aged grandmother's surgery. She has nowhere to go for help and she decides to seek help from her Billionaire boss, Jayden. Jayden doesn't believe in marriages and happily ever after but he needs a wife so his mother would stop pestering him when he eventually proves to her that marriage isn't for him by getting divorced after a year. Isabella comes to him for help at the right time; a contract is signed and there will be no strings attached. After a year, they will both go their separate ways. What will happen after a night of drunken passion between them? Will Isabella be able to endure his cruelty for just one year or leave before the stipulated time for their marriage to end? Will Jayden find Isabella or let her go with his seed growing inside her?

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.

I'm a moaning mess as Antonio slams into me from behind. His hips hit me hard, and each deep thrust sends shockwaves through my body. My breasts bounce with every movement, my eyes roll back, and I moan his name without control. The pleasure he gives me is overwhelming-I can't hold it in. I feel my walls tighten around his thick length. The pressure builds fast, and then- I explode around him, my orgasm tearing through me. He groans loud and deep as he releases inside me, his hot seed spilling into me in thick pulses. Just when I think he's done, his grip shifts. He turns me over and lays me flat on the bed. His dark eyes stare into mine for a moment, filled with raw hunger. I glance down- He's still hard. Before I can react, he grabs my wrists, pins me down, and pushes himself inside me again. He fills me completely. My hips rise on instinct, meeting his rhythm. Our bodies move together, locked in a wild, uncontrollable dance. "You're fucking sweet," he groans, his voice rough and breathless. "I can't get enough of you... not after that night, Sol," he growls, slamming into me harder. The force of his words and his thrusts make my body shake. "Come for me," he commands, his voice low and full of heat. And just like that, my body trembles. Waves of pleasure crash over me. I cry out, shaking with the force of my orgasm. "Mine," he growls again, louder this time. His voice is feral, wild, like a beast claiming what belongs to him. The sound sends a shiver down my spine. *** Solene was betrayed, humiliated, and erased by Rowan Brook, the man she once called husband, Solene is left with nothing but her name and a burning hunger for revenge. She turns to the one man powerful enough to destroy the Brooks family from within: Rowan's estranged and dangerous uncle, Antonio Rodriguez. He's ruthless. A playboy who never sleeps with the same woman twice. But when Solene walks into his world, he doesn't just break the rules, he creates new ones just for her. What begins as a calculated game quickly spirals into obsession, power plays, and secrets too deadly to stay buried. Because Solene isn't just anyone's ex... she's the woman they should've never underestimated. Can she survive the price of revenge? Or will her heart become the next casualty? And when the truth comes out, will Antonio still choose her... or destroy her?

I stood outside my husband's study, the perfect mafia wife, only to hear him mocking me as an "ice sculpture" while he entertained his mistress, Aria. But the betrayal went deeper than infidelity. A week later, my saddle snapped mid-jump, leaving me with a shattered leg. Lying in the hospital bed, I overheard the conversation that killed the last of my love. My husband, Alessandro, knew Aria had sabotaged my gear. He knew she could have killed me. Yet, he told his men to let it go. He called my near-death experience a "lesson" because I had bruised his mistress's ego. He humiliated me publicly, freezing my accounts to buy family heirlooms for her. He stood by while she threatened to leak our private tapes to the press. He destroyed my dignity to play the hero for a woman he thought was a helpless orphan. He had no idea she was a fraud. He didn't know I had installed micro-cameras throughout the estate while he was busy pampering her. He didn't know I had hours of footage showing his "innocent" Aria sleeping with his guards, his rivals, and even his staff, laughing about how easy he was to manipulate. At the annual charity gala, in front of the entire crime family, Alessandro demanded I apologize to her. I didn't beg. I didn't cry. I simply connected my drive to the main projector and pressed play.

I spent a year scrubbing floors in my fiancé’s club, hiding my identity as the daughter of the Capo dei Capi. I needed to know if Connor Bishop was a King worth merging empires with, or just a puppet. The answer came walking in wearing a neon pink dress. Jaden Juarez, a civilian he was infatuated with, didn't just treat me like a servant; she deliberately poured scalding espresso over my hand because I refused to be her valet. The pain was blinding, my skin blistering instantly. I video-called Connor, showing him the burn, expecting him to enforce the code of our world. Instead, seeing his investors watching, he panicked. He chose to sacrifice me to save face. "Get on your knees," he roared through the speaker. "Beg her pardon. Show her the respect she deserves." He wanted the daughter of the most dangerous man on the East Coast to kneel to his mistress. He thought he was showing strength. He didn't realize he was looking at a woman who could burn his entire world to ash with a single phone call. I didn't cry. I didn't beg. I simply hung up the phone and locked the kitchen doors. Then, I dialed the one number everyone in the underworld feared. "Dad," I said, my voice cold as steel. "Code Black. Bring the papers." "And send the wolves."

For three years, I kept a secret ledger of my husband's sins. A point system to decide exactly when I would leave Blake Santos, the ruthless Underboss of Chicago. I thought the final straw would be him forgetting our anniversary dinner to comfort his "childhood friend," Ariana. I was wrong. The real breaking point came when the restaurant ceiling collapsed. In that split second, Blake didn't look at me. He dove to his right, shielding Ariana with his body, leaving me to be crushed under a half-ton crystal chandelier. I woke up in a sterile hospital room with a shattered leg and a hollow womb. The doctor, trembling and pale, told me my eight-week-old fetus hadn't survived the trauma and blood loss. "We tried to get the O-negative reserves," he stammered, refusing to meet my eyes. "But Dr. Santos ordered us to hold them. He said Miss Whitfield might go into shock from her injuries." "What injuries?" I whispered. "A laceration on her finger," the doctor admitted. "And anxiety." He let our unborn child die to save the blood reserves for his mistress’s paper cut. Blake finally walked into my room hours later, smelling of Ariana’s perfume, expecting me to be the dutiful, silent wife who understood his "duty." Instead, I picked up my pen and wrote the final entry in my black leather book. *Minus five points. He killed our child.* *Total Score: Zero.* I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I just signed the divorce papers, called my extraction team, and vanished into the rain before he could turn around.

For seven years, I scrubbed floors, cooked books, and hid my identity as the Vitiello heiress just to test if Dante Moretti loved me for me, not my father’s power. But the massive digital billboard in Times Square froze the blood in my veins. It wasn’t my face next to his under the headline "The King and his new Queen." It was a cocktail waitress named Lola. When I walked into the lobby to confront him, Lola slapped me across the face and crushed my late mother's locket under her stiletto heel. Dante didn't defend me. He didn't even look sorry. "You’re useful, like a stapler," he sneered, checking his watch. "But a King needs a Queen, not a boring clerk. You can stay on as my mistress if you want to keep your job." He thought I was a nobody. He thought he could use me to launder his money and then discard me like trash. He didn't realize that the only reason he wasn't in federal prison was because I was protecting him. I wiped the blood from my lip and pulled out a secure satellite phone. Dante laughed. "Who are you calling? Your mommy?" I stared him dead in the eyes as the line connected. "The pact is void, Papa," I whispered. "Burn them all." Ten minutes later, the glass doors shattered as my father’s military helicopters descended onto the street. Dante fell to his knees, realizing too late that he hadn't just lost a secretary. He had just declared war on the Capo dei Capi.

I was the spare daughter of the Vitiello crime family, born solely to provide organs for my golden sister, Isabella. Four years ago, under the codename "Seven," I nursed Dante Moretti, the Don of Chicago, back to health in a safe house. I was the one who held him in the dark. But Isabella stole my name, my credit, and the man I loved. Now, Dante looked at me with nothing but cold disgust, believing her lies. When a neon sign crashed down on the street, Dante used his body to shield Isabella, leaving me to be crushed under twisted steel. While Isabella sat in a VIP suite crying over a scratch, I lay broken, listening to my parents discuss if my kidneys were still viable for harvest. The final straw came at their engagement gala. When Dante saw me wearing the lava stone bracelet I had worn in the safe house, he accused me of stealing it from Isabella. He ordered my father to punish me. I took fifty lashes to my back while Dante covered Isabella's eyes, protecting her from the ugly truth. That night, the love in my heart finally died. On the morning of their wedding, I handed Dante a gift box containing a cassette tape—the only proof that I was Seven. Then, I signed the papers disowning my family, threw my phone out the car window, and boarded a one-way flight to Sydney. By the time Dante listens to that tape and realizes he married a monster, I will be thousands of miles away, never to return.

I was the fiancée of the Chicago Outfit’s heir, a bond sealed by blood and eighteen years of history. But when his mistress pushed me into the freezing pool at our engagement gala, Jax didn’t swim toward me. He swam past me. He scooped up the girl who pushed me, cradling her like fragile glass, while I struggled against the weight of my gown in the murky water. When I finally dragged myself out, shivering and humiliated before the entire underworld, Jax didn’t offer a hand. He offered a scowl. "You’re making a scene, Eliana. Go home." Later, when that same mistress shoved me down the stairs, shattering my knee and my dance career, Jax stepped over my broken body to comfort her. I overheard him telling his friends, "I’m just breaking her spirit. She needs to learn she’s property, not a partner. Once she’s desperate enough, she’ll be the perfect obedient wife." He thought I was a dog that would always return to its master. He thought he could starve me of affection until I begged for scraps. He was wrong. While he was busy playing protector to his mistress, I wasn't crying in my room. I was packing his ring into a cardboard box. I cancelled my transfer to UCLA and enrolled at NYU instead. By the time Jax realized his "property" was missing, I was already in New York, standing next to a man who looked at me like a queen, not a possession.

The exact moment Marcus Thorne, the most violent Capo on the East Coast, chose to leave our anniversary dinner to answer his mistress's call, I didn't cry. "Business," he rumbled, ignoring the untouched meal I had cooked. "Don't cause a scene, Ellie," he commanded before walking out the door. I later found out his "business" was a polo match with Izzy. She posted a photo of them laughing, her hand on his chest, wearing the shirt I bought him. When I tried to leave, he humiliated me publicly. He kissed her on stage at a gala, just to prove he could. He told his men I was merely acting out. "Ellie is the furniture," he laughed. "You don't throw away antique furniture just because you bought a new TV." But the final blow came when a bomb detonated at a family gathering. Marcus didn't look for me. He dove to cover Izzy with his body. He actually stepped over my bleeding leg to carry her to safety, leaving me in the dust and debris. He thought I was trapped. He thought I was dependent on his money and his name. He thought I would be waiting at home when he was done playing hero. He was wrong. I signed the divorce papers, destroyed my wedding ring, and boarded a one-way flight to Italy. Three months later, when he finally tracked me down in Tuscany, he fell to his knees in the street, begging me to come back. But I just held the hand of the man standing next to me—a man who treated me like a partner, not a prop. "You are trespassing," I said coldly. "Go home, Marcus."

When I was eight, Dante Moretti pulled me from the fire that killed my family. For ten years, the powerful crime boss was my protector and my god. Then, he announced his engagement to another woman to unite two criminal empires. He brought her home and named her the future mistress of the Moretti family. In front of everyone, his fiancée forced a cheap metal collar around my neck, calling me their pet. Dante knew I was allergic. He just watched, his eyes cold, and ordered me to take it. That night, I listened through the walls as he took her to his bed. I finally understood the promise he’d made me as a child was a lie. I wasn't his family. I was his property. After a decade of devotion, my love for him finally turned to ash. So on his birthday, the day he celebrated his new future, I walked out of his gilded cage for good. A private jet was waiting to take me to my real father—his greatest enemy.