Ronald Spence

Sofia DeLuca has spent her life running from her family's dark legacy, determined to carve out a life of her own. But when her estranged father, a notorious mafia don, is murdered, Sofia is pulled back into the criminal underworld she tried to escape. Standing in her way is Luca Romano, her father's ruthless right-hand man and heir to the empire. As Sofia and Luca work together to uncover the truth behind her father's death, a forbidden romance ignites between them.

Vanessa's world shatters when her perfect life is upended by her stepsister, Delilah, who cunningly steals away the love of her life, Lucas. Once close, Vanessa now finds herself on the receiving end of betrayal, her engagement shattered, and her trust broken. Determined to reclaim everything she's lost, Vanessa embarks on a path of calculated revenge, using Delilah's own secrets against her. But as the intricate web of lies unravels, Vanessa discovers that revenge may not bring the closure she seeks-only a chance to heal and find true strength within herself.

A prophecy long buried in Lycan lore speaks of a child born of two rival bloodlines-a child destined to unite the fractured packs but cursed to overthrow the reigning king. Seren Duskbane, a fearless rogue, never imagined her path would cross with Lucian Veylor, the brooding and enigmatic Lycan King. When a fateful encounter binds them in a forbidden union, Seren discovers she carries the heir that could change the fate of their kind. As whispers of the prophecy spread, they face enemies from within and beyond their packs-forces that see the child as either salvation or destruction. With time running out and danger closing in, Seren and Lucian must navigate treacherous alliances, unearth ancient secrets, and confront the prophecy's devastating truth.

Selena Kaelvar is the last surviving member of the Kaelvar Pride. After witnessing the cold-blooded slaughter of her family by the ruthless Crescent Moon Pack, she becomes consumed by a singular purpose: revenge. Her opportunity comes when she discovers her uncanny resemblance to Liana Morven, the Crescent Moon Alpha's beloved Luna. Selena kidnaps Liana, hiding her far from her mate, and assumes her identity to infiltrate the pack from within. Darius Raelith, the Alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack, is burdened with the legacy of his father's cruel reign. Determined to lead his pack with honor, Darius strives to mend the wounds of the past. But his efforts are undermined by a "Luna" who seems to be playing her own dangerous game. Selena walks a treacherous path of deception and vengeance, long-buried secrets surface, and the stakes grow higher. What will happen when Selena and Darius confront the truths that tie their fates together? Can redemption be found amid betrayal, or will revenge plunge them both into darkness?

When Seraphina, a young woman with dormant werewolf traits, is mistreated by her pack and ultimately rejected by her Alpha mate, she is forced into a life of solitude as a rogue. Her world is turned upside down when her dormant powers are awakened, revealing her true nature as a powerful Alpha and the dangers that come with it. Seeking to understand her new identity, Seraphina turns to the Lycan King, Kael, who becomes her mentor and guide. Together, they face the threats from her past that rise along with her newfound abilities. But when her former Alpha, Thorne, who once rejected her, returns, pleading for her forgiveness and help, Seraphina is faced with an agonizing choice: should she listen to his plea to take her back, or trust Kael, the one who helped her unlock the great power within her? With her destiny as Alpha hanging in the balance, Seraphina must decide how to wield her powers and confront the looming dangers that threaten her. Will she embrace the future that's calling, or be undone by the past that haunts her?

Hunted by fate and bound by a curse, Selene Draven lives in hiding, avoiding the truth of her identity as the last heir to the Duskwind Pack. When her quiet life is disrupted by Alaric Veylor, the fierce alpha of the Ebonridge Pack, her world is upended. Alaric, seeking vengeance for his brother's mysterious death, captures Selene, believing she holds the answers to the curse plaguing his pack. But as their fates entwine, an undeniable bond forms, challenging everything they know about loyalty, love, and destiny. As ancient forces awaken and secrets unravel, Alaric and Selene must face a choice: break the curse and risk losing each other, or let love conquer the darkness threatening to consume their packs.

For Claire Evans, love has always been a secondhand emotion. After a string of heartbreaks, she's convinced herself that forever isn't in the cards. Instead, she pours her energy into her thriving career as an interior designer. But when her latest project brings her back to her small hometown, she's forced to confront the one man who shattered her heart and the walls she built around it- Ethan Carter. Ethan has spent the past decade regretting the one decision that drove Claire away. Now the owner of a struggling vineyard, he's desperate to save his family's legacy. When Claire steps back into his life as the designer hired to transform the vineyard into a wedding venue, he sees it as a second chance to prove that love is worth the risk. As the days unfold in a whirlwind of late-night confessions, rekindled laughter, and lingering glances, Claire must decide if she's ready to give Ethan- and herself- a chance at the kind of love she thought only existed in fairytales.

When Lady Isolde, the spirited daughter of an English nobleman, is sent to the rugged Scottish Highlands as part of a political alliance, she expects nothing but hardship. Tasked with marrying the feared Highland clan leader, Lachlan MacRae, she is determined to resist her fate. Lachlan, a man of honor and deep scars, is bound by duty to his people and his clan. But the fiery Isolde challenges everything he believes in. As enemies from both sides of the border plot against the Highlands, Isolde and Lachlan are thrust into a battle that could change the course of history-and ignite a forbidden love neither can deny. Can love heal the wounds of war, or will their differences tear them apart forever?

Celeste Ashcroft never expected to inherit the Ashcroft Dynasty-a sprawling global empire of luxury and power-until her father, the legendary magnate Harrison Ashcroft, is found murdered under mysterious circumstances. As she steps into the cutthroat corporate world, Celeste uncovers shocking truths about her father's dealings, the betrayal of trusted allies, and enemies hidden within her own family. With the enigmatic and dangerously alluring Dominic Vale by her side, Celeste must navigate a web of deception and ambition. To claim her throne, she must outwit those who seek to destroy her and transform from a grieving daughter into a ruler who commands respect-and fear.

In a world ruled by wolves, Asha never expected to be anything more than an ordinary woman. But when her family's dark past catches up with her, she is thrust into a conflict that could tear her apart. Declan, a brooding Alpha with a ruthless reputation, claims Asha as his mate, bound by a forbidden claim that no one saw coming. As the war between packs escalates and old enemies emerge, Asha must navigate her new life in the wilds of the wolf world, where loyalty, love, and blood ties are tested like never before. But with a dangerous prophecy looming, Asha might be the only one who can prevent the destruction of everything she holds dear.

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 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 died on a Tuesday. It wasn't a quick death. It was slow, cold, and meticulously planned by the man who called himself my father. I was twenty years old. He needed my kidney to save my sister. The spare part for the golden child. I remember the blinding lights of the operating theater, the sterile smell of betrayal, and the phantom pain of a surgeon's scalpel carving into my flesh while my screams echoed unheard. I remember looking through the observation glass and seeing him-my father, Giovanni Vitiello, the Don of the Chicago Outfit-watching me die with the same detached expression he used when signing a death warrant. He chose her. He always chose her. And then, I woke up. Not in heaven. Not in hell. But in my own bed, a year before my scheduled execution. My body was whole, unscarred. The timeline had reset, a glitch in the cruel matrix of my existence, giving me a second chance I never asked for. This time, when my father handed me a one-way ticket to London-an exile disguised as a severance package-I didn't cry. I didn't beg. My heart, once a bleeding wound, was now a block of ice. He didn't know he was talking to a ghost. He didn't know I had already lived through his ultimate betrayal. He also didn't know that six months ago, during the city's brutal territory wars, I was the one who saved his most valuable asset. In a secret safe house, I stitched up the wounds of a blinded soldier, a man whose life hung by a thread. He never saw my face. He only knew my voice, the scent of vanilla, and the steady touch of my hands. He called me Sette. Seven. For the seven stitches I put in his shoulder. That man was Dante Moretti. The Ruthless Capo. The man my sister, Isabella, is now set to marry. She stole my story. She claimed my actions, my voice, my scent. And Dante, the man who could spot a lie from a mile away, believed the beautiful deception because he wanted it to be true. He wanted the golden girl to be his savior, not the invisible sister who was only ever good for her spare parts. So I took the ticket. In my past life, I fought them, and they silenced me on an operating table. This time, I will let them have their perfect, gilded lie. I will go to London. I will disappear. I will let Seraphina Vitiello die on that plane. But I will not be a victim. This time, I will not be the lamb led to slaughter. This time, from the shadows of my exile, I will be the one holding the match. And I will wait, with the patience of the dead, to watch their entire world burn. Because a ghost has nothing to lose, and a queen of ashes has an empire to gain.

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.

I was the Architect who built the digital fortress for the most feared Don in New York. To the world, I was Brendan Wiggins’s silent, elegant Queen. But then my burner phone buzzed under the dinner table. It was a photo from his mistress: a positive pregnancy test. "Your husband is celebrating right now," the caption read. "You are just the furniture." I looked across the table at Brendan. He smiled and held my hand, lying to my face without blinking. He thought he owned me because he saved my life ten years ago. He told her I was just "functional." That I was a barren asset he kept around to look respectable, while she carried his legacy. He thought I would accept the disrespect because I had nowhere else to go. He was wrong. I didn't want to divorce him—you don't divorce a Don. And I didn't want to kill him. That was too easy. I wanted to erase him. I liquidated fifty million dollars from the offshore accounts only I could access. I destroyed the servers I had built. Then, I contacted a black-market chemist for a procedure called "Tabula Rasa." It doesn't kill the body. It wipes the mind clean. A total hard reset of the soul. On his birthday, while he was out celebrating his bastard son, I drank the vial. When he finally came home to find the empty house and the melted wedding ring, he realized the truth. He could burn the world down looking for me, but he would never find his wife. Because the woman who loved him no longer existed.

Elora Griffiths was on her way to drop her daughter off at school when her husband's enemies opened fire in the street. The bodyguard her husband had personally assigned to protect them abandoned the car the instant the shots rang out. Mother and daughter were hit multiple times, teetering on the brink of death. Elora frantically called her husband, Rodger Griffiths, but he didn't answer. Her brother, Hugh Dale, arrived just in time and saved them both. "How could this happen? Didn't Rodger assign someone to protect you?" Hugh asked. Elora sobbed uncontrollably, "The bodyguard ran away!" On the way to the hospital, Elora kept trying Rodger's number, desperate. One call after another... Finally, on the ninety-ninth attempt, the line connected. On the other end was the female bodyguard, trembling, her voice barely holding back tears. "Rodger, it's really not my fault! There were so many assassins. I would've died if I tried to stop them! I was so scared..." Elora held her breath, waiting for her husband's wrath to thunder down. But Rodger just sighed. "Forget it. The important thing is you're safe," he said. Meanwhile, Elora's daughter took her last breath in her arms. The pain was suffocating. She held her daughter close as her body went cold and stiff, teeth gritted in fury, "Hugh, I'm divorcing him! I'll cut off every single arms shipment to the Griffiths family from the largest arms company in Crownport!"

I stood alone at the center of my art gallery opening, clutching a glass of warm champagne, while the guests whispered behind their hands. My husband, the Capo of the Chicago Outfit, wasn't there. A breaking news alert on my phone explained why. It was a high-definition photo of Dante shielding his mistress, Isabella, from the rain. He was touching her with a protective possessiveness he had never once shown me. Then came his text: "Isabella needed me. Go home." That was the moment the cage door unlocked. I didn't go home to cry. I went to his office the next morning with a stack of papers disguised as "gallery insurance forms." While Isabella sat on his desk, mocking me for being a boring housewife, Dante was too annoyed to read the fine print. He just wanted me gone so he could get back to her. He signed the divorce decree. He signed the asset dissolution. Most importantly, without looking, he signed the irrevocable relinquishment of parental rights. I walked out with my freedom, but fate had a cruel sense of humor. That night, I stared at a positive pregnancy test. I was carrying the Sovrano heir he had always demanded. And he had just legally signed away his right to ever know his child. I fled to the Swiss Alps, vanishing into the snow to raise my baby away from his world of blood and bullets. I thought I was safe, until six months later. Dante hadn't just sent men to look for me. He had burned his own shipping empire to the ground, destroying his status as King, just to prove he would trade it all for the wife he threw away.

For nine years, I was the perfect mafia wife. I laundered Marcus Thorne’s money through my design firm, smiled at his dinners, and ignored the lipstick stains on his collars. I believed in the Omertà of our marriage. I thought my loyalty was my armor. I was wrong. On the night of our anniversary gala, a car lost control and barreled straight toward us in the parking lot. Marcus didn't look at me. Not once. He lunged for his mistress, Izzy, tackling her to safety behind a concrete pillar. I was left standing in the open. The impact threw me like a ragdoll. I lay bleeding on the cold asphalt, my body broken, watching through the haze as my husband frantically checked his mistress for scratches. "My ankle," she whimpered. Without a backward glance, he picked her up and carried her to his limousine, leaving me to bleed out on the pavement. He didn't leave me because he panicked. He left me because I was just a shield he used to protect what he actually loved. As darkness crept in, a shadow fell over me. It wasn't Marcus. It was Julian Croft, his sworn rival. I looked at the empty spot where my husband should have been and made a choice. "Get me to the hospital," I rasped, staring into the eyes of the enemy. "And then help me burn his empire to the ground."