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"You and your baby are mine whether you want it or not." Renata Neroni's life was shattered the moment she discovered her boyfriend and stepsister's betrayal. In a rare lapse of judgment fueled by grief and alcohol, she spent a single, anonymous night with a stranger, unaware that she had just surrendered herself to Domenico Veronesi, the most formidable figure in the global underworld. That night left Renata with more than just a memory; she was pregnant with the heir to a mafia empire. As her father, desperate to free himself from the debts, prepares to marry her off to a man nearly his own age, Renata finds herself trapped. Her only escape arrives in the form of Domenico himself. Asserting his claim, he interrupts the arrangement and brings Renata to his secluded estate. Within the fortified walls of the Veronesi estate, the man known for his cold, merciless exterior reveals a singular obsession: the protection of Renata and their unborn child. However, Domenico's readiness to provide is met with a wall of ice. Despite his efforts to provide for her, Renata's resentment initially hardens into a wall of silence. To her, Domenico is simply another powerful man attempting to control her fate. However, as she is forced to navigate the inner workings of his life within the mafia world, she begins to see the man behind the fearsome reputation. Renata discovers the deeper layers of Domenico, a loyalty and a hidden vulnerability regarding their child, and the fear that once defined her begins to dissolve.

**Mature Content** "For you, I can burn the very pack that gave you nothing but pain. I can kill my own nephew for breaking your heart. I vow, Reina, with me by your side, you will believe in love again." ~~~~ Reina Ashfall was born an omega into a prestigious family of powerful Alphas. As the illegitimate daughter of a noble Alpha, she was denied recognition and raised as a servant in her own home. Ignored by her father and despised by her stepmother, Reina endured years of humiliation and cruelty for a sin she never committed. Her only comfort was Zayne Kingsley, her childhood friend and secret protector. He promised to stand by her and shield her from harm. But her happiness shattered the day Zayne was declared Alpha of the Pack. On that same day, Reina discovered him cheating on her with her half-sister. Broken and rejected, Reina decided to flee the pack. However, that was when fate intervened. A mysterious and powerful man appeared at her doorstep, Damon Kingsley, an Alpha feared across territories, known for his golden eyes and unmatched strength. Nearly ten years older, Damon claimed Reina as his destined mate. Forced by her family's threats, she agreed to marry him, entering the union with no hope of love. What she didn't know was that Damon was Zayne's uncle. For twelve years, Damon had searched relentlessly for his mate, defying destiny itself. With the help of a powerful witch, he finally found Reina, hidden in his nephew's pack. From the moment he saw her, he knew she was the one he had waited for. Determined to protect her, Damon claimed her as his mate and vowed to give her the devotion, respect, and love she had never known.

[Mature Content] "He fell first and he fell harder!" A day before her engagement, Renée Findlay is rejected by her boyfriend. On top of that, she discovers that he has been cheating on her with her best friend. Her distress doesn't end there; Renée is thrown out of her own house after her ex transfers it into his name. Renée feels trapped in darkness until her ex's boss, Killian Morrison, enters her life. Killian Morrison is the CEO of Morrison Group. He is renowned for his icy demeanor, with a reputation cemented by his cold, heartless, and arrogant attitude. When he proposes to Renée to be his wife, she can't refuse because she wants revenge on her ex! But what came as a shock to Renée when she finds out Killian already has a girlfriend despite that he wants to marry her and keep her as his wife for one year. Why? Check out to find out in the story. **COVER IS MINE**

Adolphus Osbourne, the Alpha and Crown Prince of Arcaria, carries a heavy price for his ambition. While attempting to seize the forbidden Moon Crystal, he was struck by a witch's curse: he would be forever denied the bond of a fated mate. For years, he lived in that cold void, until Iris Vinsant crossed his path. Now, he is drawn to her, ignoring the dark consequences that loom over his kingdom and his life. Iris, a human girl who endured fifteen years of her stepmother's cruelty, chose to risk the unknown rather than suffer another day. But her midnight escape led her straight into the heart of the Forbidden Forest, where humans are never permitted. Captured by werewolves and forced into servitude at the royal palace, her world shifted from one nightmare to another. Yet, amidst the terrors of the court, she found herself haunted by a pair of predatory, green eyes. The Alpha Prince has noticed her, and in Arcaria, his attention is both a gift and a death sentence. ~~~~~ Iris's back pressed painfully against the cold stone wall as Adolphus's towering frame loomed over her. "You took your time returning, Iris," he murmured. The sharp, heady scent of wine clung to his breath, mingling with the earthy musk of his wolf. "His Highness is intoxicated. I... I should take my leave," Iris whispered, her voice trembling as she tried to shrink away from his heat. "You are the sole reason of my condition," Adolphus countered, his gaze locking onto hers with a terrifying intensity. Iris blinked rapidly, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Me?" Adolphus gave a slow nod. "The way you smiled at my younger brother... The way your fingers brushed his as you handed him that drink. It made me want to tear his throat out," he confessed, the casualness of his threat making Iris gasp. "I never-" Her protest was cut short as Adolphus pressed his index finger firmly against her lips, silencing her. "So, it was my brother today," he whispered, a dark, dangerous smirk tugging at his mouth. "Tell me, Iris, shall I kill him simply for smiling back at my woman?"

'His words weren't mere rules, but the laws.' Julia Sanchez wants to be a drama writer. But life took a strange turn for her when she was told to marry the most influential businessman, Marimo Martinez. However, there exists a problem. Marimo Martinez has been in a vegetative state for four years. His chances of survival are limited, yet Julia is forced to marry him. On the wedding day, Julia waited for Marimo to come on a wheelchair. To her surprise, Marimo came in a black tuxedo and was on the aisle, waiting for her. His features were breathtaking and stole her heart in a second. ****** "Wifey, let's make this night beautiful," Marimo said as he advanced to her. Julia gulped and slowly took backward steps. Her breath hitched when her back hit the pillar of the poster bed. Before she could run away, her petite figure landed on the soft mattress and those icy blue orbs fell onto hers. "Mr. Martinez, we don't know each other yet. Could you please—" she paused when she felt his cold fingers on her leg. The next second, she kicked him and Marimo fell to the floor with a loud bang.

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.

I was three days away from marrying the Underboss of the Fazio crime family when I unlocked his burner phone. The screen glowed toxic bright in the dark next to my sleeping fiancé. A message from a contact saved as 'Little Trouble' read: "She is just a statue, Dante. Come back to bed." Attached was a photo of a woman lying in the sheets of his private office, wearing his shirt. My heart didn't break; it simply stopped. For eight years, I believed Dante was the hero who pulled me from a burning opera house. I played the perfect, loyal Mafia Princess for him. But heroes don't give their mistresses rare pink diamonds while giving their fiancées cubic zirconia replicas. He didn't just cheat. He humiliated me. He defended his mistress over his own soldiers in public. He even abandoned me on the side of the road on my birthday because she faked a pregnancy emergency. He thought I was weak. He thought I would accept the fake ring and the disrespect because I was just a political pawn. He was wrong. I didn't cry. Tears are for women who have options. I had a strategy. I walked into the bathroom and dialed a number I hadn't dared to call in a decade. "Speak," a voice like gravel growled on the other end. Lorenzo Moretti. The Capo of the rival family. The man my father called the Devil. "The wedding is off," I whispered, staring at my reflection. "I want an alliance with you, Enzo. And I want the Fazio family burned to the ground."

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.

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.

For seven years, I was the architect of my fiancé's criminal empire and the strategist behind his every move. I was Dante Gallo’s unofficial Consigliere, his partner in everything but name. Tomorrow, I was finally supposed to marry him and take my place as the queen to his throne. But on the eve of our wedding, a single text message sent by mistake detonated my life. It was a photo from Dante, showing a platinum wedding band on his hand. The message read: “Married this morning. She’s safe now.” My gaze fell to the engagement ring on my own finger. It was the identical band, just smaller. The engraved initials ‘D.I.’ didn’t stand for Dante and I. They stood for Dante and Isabella—his childhood sweetheart. My entire relationship was a lie; I was just a shield to protect his one true love. He dismissed my discovery as a "tantrum." Then, his new bride began taunting me, sending a picture of them tangled in bedsheets with the caption: "Loser." They expected me to break. They thought I would shatter. They were about to find out just how wrong they were. I forwarded the picture to Isabella’s fiancé, a man far more dangerous than Dante. "Your fiancée is in Suite 8808 at the Grand Hyatt," I told him. "I'll meet you downstairs. We're going to crash their party."

For five years, I was married to the most feared Mafia Don in New York. But my husband's heart only had room for one woman: my fragile, manipulative half-sister, Siena. He constantly used his absolute authority to protect her, even forgetting my deadly genetic allergy just to cater to her meals. The ultimate betrayal came during a hostage exchange with a rogue faction at the freezing East Docks. The kidnapper pressed a gun to Siena's head and demanded a one-for-one trade. The Mafia Queen for the sweet civilian. My husband and my son didn't hesitate for a single second. "Walk forward, Tessa," Cassio commanded, his voice devoid of any hesitation. "Go save my aunt!" my young son screamed from the car. I was shoved toward the ruthless mobsters and dragged onto their idling smuggling boat. When I looked back, Cassio was hurriedly wrapping his warm coat around Siena's shivering shoulders. He didn't look at me. Not even once. In that freezing rain, I finally realized my absolute worthlessness. I was never a wife or a mother; I was just a disposable bargaining chip. Memories of a past life suddenly flooded my mind—a life where I withered away in a cage, dying alone while Cassio stood over my hospital bed and whispered his final words. "I wish I had met Siena first." I looked down at the freezing, black ocean churning below the edge of the boat. An underground extractor had already prepared my new identity in Switzerland. With a sudden jerk, I ripped my arm out of the mobster's grip and stepped backward off the edge of the boat. This time, I chose to live for myself.

I was trapped in a locked-in state for six months, fully conscious but unable to move a single muscle. My step-family, Delma and Jazmyne, marched into my hospital room, forged a Do Not Resuscitate order, and yanked out my oxygen tube just to stop paying my medical bills. When my three-year-old daughter, Amari, leaped out from under the bed to protect me, they beat her mercilessly. They kicked my tiny girl in the stomach, smashed a heavy metal IV pole into her fragile shoulder, and dragged her out by her ankles. They even tied her to a tree in their backyard and let a massive Rottweiler tear into her flesh, laughing as they recorded her agonizing screams. I lay in that hospital bed, hearing every blow and every desperate cry. I didn't understand why they had to torture an innocent toddler just because they thought I was a worthless piece of trash with amnesia. A tidal wave of absolute fury crashed against the invisible walls of my paralyzed body, burning away the despair. Gritting my teeth until my jaw popped, I forced my dead weight off the mattress and dragged my atrophied legs across the freezing floor to a landline. With trembling, bloody fingers, I punched in a twelve-digit military-grade encrypted code. It was time for my real family—the most powerful men in the country—to make these monsters pay.

The moment I saw my husband massaging his dead brother's pregnant mistress's feet, I knew my marriage was over. He moved her into our home under the guise of "family duty," forcing me to watch as he prioritized her comfort over our vows. The final betrayal came when she stole and deliberately broke my mother's priceless necklace. When I slapped her for the desecration, my husband struck me across the face to defend her. He had violated a sacred honor code by putting his hands on the daughter of another Don-an act of war. I looked him in the eye and swore on my mother's grave that I would bring a bloody revenge upon his entire family. Then I made one phone call to my father, and the demolition of his empire began.

My husband, Don Lorenzo Bianchi, the man who once took ninety-nine lashes for me, had just locked me in a guest room. I was four months pregnant with our child, the heir to his mafia empire. My crime was throwing a glass of wine on his mistress, a woman he had moved into our home. She cornered me in the garden, gloating that once the baby was born, he would give it to her to raise as her own. Later, she shoved me down the grand staircase, then threw herself down after me, screaming to my husband that I had tried to kill her. As I lay in a pool of my own blood, Lorenzo rushed past me, scooping her into his arms and carrying her away without a single backward glance. To force me to apologize, he had my parents brought to my hospital room and brutally whipped until they collapsed at his feet. He was no longer the man who had 999 crystals sewn into my wedding dress. He was a monster who believed every lie she told and punished me for her crimes. How could the man who swore to love me forever become this cruel stranger? But he didn't know the truth. Days before the fall, I had secretly terminated the pregnancy. I took the urn containing our child's ashes, filed for divorce, and disappeared from his world forever.

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.