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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.

I didn't mean to call my boss. I definitely didn't mean to leave a seven-minute voicemail of dirty secrets about him. Working for Ruslan Oryolov is the job from hell. The man is impossible-demanding, arrogant, and way too gorgeous for his own good. After eighteen months of fetching his coffee and swallowing my pride, all I wanted was one night of stress relief. But the billionaire CEO of Bane Corporation isn't just a boss from hell. He's the head of the Oryolov Bratva-and now that he's heard every secret I never meant to share, he's decided to claim me. His contract. His rules. His protection for my three orphaned nieces and nephews-the only reason I'm signing my life away to a man I should fear. He owns my signature. He owns my safety. Now he wants my soul.

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."

As my husband—the most feared Mafia Don in the city—lay dying, I stood by his bed playing the perfect, grieving wife. But with his dying breath, he confessed a horrifying secret: twenty-six years ago, he secretly swapped our newborn infants in the hospital. He told me he gave my flesh and blood to his mistress so her child could inherit the empire safely, while leaving his own legitimate son to rot in the slums. Before I could even process the betrayal, his mistress and her thug son burst into the hospital suite. "I grew up in the gutter while your fake son wore custom suits," the street rat spat, kicking the bedframe. "I want the penthouses and the millions in cash by tomorrow." The mistress paraded around the room, gloating about how her bloodline would now rule the underworld. Lorenzo signed the entire Syndicate over to the Underboss—the son he believed was hers—leaving me with nothing but a violent, greedy parasite. They thought they had won. They thought I was just a discarded, empty shell, completely stripped of my power, my legacy, and my child. But as I watched the ink dry on the will, I buried a cold, triumphant smile. They didn't know one crucial detail. Twenty-six years ago, I was awake when he made the swap. And in the dead of night, I had crept down to her room and switched the babies right back.

I was washing the caked blood from my five-year-old daughter's broken body in the family mortuary. She had been tortured to death by a rival cartel. My husband Julian, the underworld's legendary "Master of Whispers," claimed his intelligence division did everything they could, but the rescue coordinates were wrong. Yet, while I stood over our child's corpse, he was busy comforting his new apprentice, Chloe. She posted a picture of their intertwined hands online, bragging that she had "accidentally deleted a crucial audio file" yesterday, but the boss had held her hand and forgiven her. Yesterday. The exact day my daughter died. When I confronted him, Julian slapped me across the face in front of our men. "You carry the curse of your bloodline! You are an omen of death! You brought this on her!" He blamed me for our child's slaughter, demanding I apologize to his mistress, while he secretly wiped the server logs to protect the incompetent girl who got our daughter killed. He actually thought I would just swallow the grief, refusing a divorce because I still loved him, allowing him to use my family's immense wealth to play house with his whore. But he forgot one crucial detail. His legendary "God's Ear" was a total myth, a lie entirely powered by the secret algorithms I funded to cover up his permanent deafness. I calmly gathered the ashes of my daughter from the floor and picked up my phone. "Initiate an immediate withdrawal of all funds from Julian's division. Let them bleed."

On my birthday, my husband Dante asked for a divorce over a plate of cold lasagna. He held my hand, tears in his eyes, and told me his mistress was pregnant. "It’s a miracle, Elena," he wept. "God has finally given me a son." He looked at me with pity, calling me "broken" because I hadn't given him an heir in eight years. He moved his pregnant mistress into the penthouse I paid for, and his mother mocked me as a "dry vine" while cooking tonic soups for the new woman. They didn't know the truth I had buried three years ago. I remembered the day the doctor slid the file across the desk: *Azoospermia. Zero sperm count.* Dante was the sterile one. I had burned the results to protect his fragile ego as a Mafia Don. I took the blame. I drank his mother's vile herbal poisons every morning until I vomited, just to keep his secret. Now, he was discarding me for a "miracle" that was biologically impossible. I signed the divorce papers without a tear. Then I bought the debt of his company, put on a blood-red dress, and walked into his heir's Christening. I didn't come to object. I came to plug a USB drive into the projector and show the entire underworld exactly whose "miracle" that baby really was.

Seven days before I was set to marry the most feared Mafia Don in the country, I was asked to step out of my own wedding photos. Because my shadow was ruining the shot. The photographer then took ninety-nine pictures—of my fiancé and my adopted sister. When I refused to give up the master suite meant for a wife, the man I loved called me ungrateful. He abandoned me at a remote compound to take her to a nail salon. So three days before the ceremony, I returned his keys, his ledgers, and his world. I left a single note: 'Thank you.' Eight years later, I came back home—and found him waiting for me on the same road where he once left me behind. He promised to wait forever. He broke that vow in the worst way possible. And I never even heard the crash.

For three years, I played the fool, sacrificing my dignity to drag Luca back from the abyss so he could inherit the Falcone Family. But at his grand swearing-in banquet, the woman he claimed as his own wasn't me. It was my illegitimate half-sister, Elena. To please her, he laced my soup with poison and watched his men mock my agony. When my mother was dying in the ICU and desperately needed my medical signature, Elena's enforcers pinned me to the floor of an underground fighting ring. "Perform your jester routine, Claire. Make me laugh," Elena taunted. Crying, I begged Luca to save my mother. But he just looked at me with cold disgust, wrapped his arms around Elena, and kissed her passionately right in front of me. Driven by blinding desperation, I smeared filthy clown makeup on my face and tore my dignity to shreds just to beg for a merciful laugh. But it was too late. Because of their twisted games, my mother flatlined and suffocated to death alone. I didn't understand how eighteen years of blind devotion and three years of keeping him alive amounted to nothing, or why he so easily believed Elena's fabricated lies to destroy my life. Staring at my ruined, painted face on the cold floor outside the hospital morgue, the last trace of my love for him turned to ash. I wiped away the greasepaint, downloaded the hidden evidence of their crimes, and dialed an independent federal lawyer. "I am breaking Omertà. File the lawsuit."

I am the true bloodline daughter of the Romano Syndicate, but my brother, the Don, hid me in a safe house while treating his adopted sister, Natalia, like the real mafia princess. Blood meant nothing to them. So I decided it would mean nothing to me. On my twenty-first birthday, Natalia publicly humiliated my impoverished past in front of his men just to steal my only birthday wish. My brother didn't stop her; instead, he indulged her cruelty just to keep her happy. When I finally decided to pack my bags and leave, they cornered me in a city boutique. Natalia maliciously crushed the only photograph of my dead adoptive parents under her designer heel. "Look at this garbage," she mocked, grinding the glass into my mother's smiling face. When I fought back, my own brother violently twisted my arms behind my back. He held his own blood sister defenseless just so the fake princess could slap me across the face. He claimed he had to protect the family from her tantrums, but all he did was treat my existence like a toxic infection. I finally understood that in this family, blood meant absolutely nothing. I dropped the trunk of mafia money, walked out the door, and boarded an off-the-grid freight train to the rural south. When the Don finally realized his mistake and brought the whole syndicate to my farm begging for my return, I didn't even blink.

On our first wedding anniversary, my husband walked out the door. Not for business. For her. I left the divorce papers on the table, my wedding ring next to his untouched champagne, and I disappeared into the night. For a year, I watched Dominic Rossi—the ruthless Underboss of the New York syndicate—drop everything the moment his phone buzzed with another crisis from Sophia. A panic attack. A sleepless night. A lie. I was his wife, the woman he’d promised to cherish, but I was never his priority. So I chose myself. Now he’s tearing the city apart trying to find me. But I’m already gone—building a new life with a job that’s mine, an apartment that’s mine, and a name that doesn’t belong to him. The girl who waited in that penthouse is dead. The woman who walked out isn’t looking back. When Dominic finally corners me, I see the cracks in his armor. He says he’s sorry. He says he loves me. He says he finally understands. But some words are too late, and some promises can’t be fixed. He made me guess for a year. Now it’s his turn to wonder if I’ll ever come back. A heart-wrenching, standalone mafia romance about a woman who refused to be second choice, and the man who learned too late what he’d lost.