A Miao
18 Published Stories
A Miao's Books and Stories
Unwanted By The Alpha, Destined For The Wraith
Werewolf For three years, I was the dutiful, wolfless Luna of the Stone Pack. My family's immense wealth funded my Alpha mate's entire empire, keeping his pack from ruin.
But today, Angelo brought a human judge's daughter into our bedroom.
"I am taking Cecelia as my chosen mate," he declared.
He expected me to step aside, quietly manage their finances, and accept his mistress as a "sister." When I refused, his family mocked me as a defective burden. They thought because I had no inner wolf, I was powerless. They had already embezzled my dying mother's blood money to court his human fling, and now Angelo threatened to starve my younger siblings if I didn't submit. They wanted to keep me as a captive ATM while parading the new Luna.
He thought an Alpha's command would crush me. He forgot that he built his entire title on the sacred Blood Oath he swore to my dying mother. How could he be so arrogant to bite the very hand that kept his pathetic pack alive?
They thought they had drained my well, completely blind to the fact that I controlled the roots.
Since he had been too disgusted to ever Mark me, our bond was useless. I calmly locked down every cent of my trust fund, leaving his pack utterly bankrupt and drowning in debt. Then, I took my mother's ancient token straight to the apex predator of the North—the Lycan King, Damien Blackwood.
I wasn't just walking away. I was declaring war. From Burden To Unstoppable Queen
Modern My fiancé, Caleb Holder, saw me as a burden, a stain on his perfect image. In my past life, his constant cruelty and public humiliation drove me to suicide.
After I died, the truth came out. His mistress, Erica, had faked her pregnancy and the miscarriage she blamed on me. While the world celebrated their "true love," I was just a tragic, forgotten fool.
But then I opened my eyes.
I was back on the night of the gala, moments before Erica would throw herself down the stairs.
In a few minutes, Caleb would believe her lies without question, slap me until I bled, and call me a monster in front of his family.
"You evil, jealous monster! You tried to kill my child!"
Last time, his words destroyed me. This time, they would be my battle cry. Five Years Of Lies: The Wife's Awakening
Modern To an orphan like me, the Donovans’ approval was oxygen. I thought I was living a fairy tale as Ivan’s fiancée, finally finding a place to land.
That illusion shattered the night I overheard my future father-in-law whisper behind a study door.
"We can't keep paying Kayla forever. If this comes out, it ruins the merger."
The name hung in the air like toxic smoke.
Driven by a sickening gut feeling, I dug deeper. I found a tuition bill for a prestigious kindergarten for a boy named Leo—paid for by the Donovans.
I disguised myself as a pest control worker and infiltrated the address on the bill.
Inside the playroom of a massive mansion, I found the smoking gun.
It wasn’t a receipt. It was a commissioned oil painting.
It depicted my fiancé, Ivan, smiling with his arm around a beautiful woman, a young boy standing between them.
The plaque read: *Our Happy Family - 2023.*
They weren't just cheating; they were living a parallel life. They thought I was just the naive, grateful scholarship student who would never look too closely.
They were wrong.
At our lavish fifth-anniversary party, in front of five hundred of Manhattan's elite, Ivan waited for my loving toast.
Instead, I signaled the AV booth.
The giant screen behind us flickered to life. But it didn't show our wedding photos.
It showed the painting.
And then, I played the recordings. Betrayed By The Don: Her Ultimate Escape
Mafia On our anniversary, I was basting the roast when my husband’s encrypted laptop lit up on the kitchen counter.
Alex Bradley, the ruthless Underboss of New York, never made mistakes. But tonight, he left a chat room open.
The notification shattered my world: "Is the idiot eating the dog food yet?"
It was from his mistress, Charlotte.
They were betting on whether I would eat the red velvet cake she had spiked with her Rottweiler’s excrement.
I realized then that my marriage was a long-con. I was just a "placeholder" wife to secure his promotion to Don.
To survive, I had to play the part.
Alex sat on the bed, feeding me the tainted cake with a loving smile.
"Eat up, Jillian," he purred. "It’s to die for."
I swallowed every bite of the filth, forcing myself not to vomit until he left the room.
The humiliation didn't stop there.
I found out our marriage license was void.
He publicly bought me a twenty-million-dollar necklace at a gala, then abandoned me to face the debt, forcing me to hand over my grandmother’s earrings as collateral.
He even watched calmly as his family beat me for a prank Charlotte orchestrated.
But the final blow came when I overheard him planning our "romantic" getaway.
"The blizzard hits Friday," he told Charlotte. "It’ll look like a tragic accident. Hypothermia."
He thought he was taking a lamb to the slaughter.
He didn’t know I had been counting down the days.
When we arrived at the cabin and he went to prepare my "accident," I didn't cry.
I tossed one of my boots over the cliff edge to stage my death.
Then I climbed into the black extraction van waiting in the snow.
Alex Bradley thought he had killed his wife.
He had no idea he had just set her free. The Invisible Girlfriend's New Start
Modern After three years of being the agreeable, invisible girlfriend to my tech CEO boyfriend, Edward, I finally left him. Then Brody Frazier, his charming rival, swept into my life, determined to use me to get under Edward's skin.
But at a tech gala, Edward cornered me, publicly declaring his love and flashing a "promise ring" he claimed he'd bought for me weeks ago.
He did this right after his high school crush, Jeannette, announced their engagement, and right before he accused me of humiliating him.
He insisted his feelings for Jeannette were a "youthful fantasy" and that I was his "anchor," his "stability." He said he loved me.
But I remembered the truth. I remembered the small, hand-carved wooden bird he'd once made.
A gift he'd had me send to Jeannette years ago, along with a love note he dictated himself.
And I knew his desperate confession wasn't love. It was damage control. From Mafia Wife to Rival's Queen
Mafia After fifteen years of marriage and a brutal battle with infertility, I finally saw two pink lines on a pregnancy test. This baby was my victory, the heir that would finally secure my place as the wife of mob capo Marco Vitiello. I planned to announce it at his mother's party, a triumph over the matriarch who saw me as nothing but a barren field.
But before I could celebrate, my friend sent me a video. The headline read: "MOB CAPO MARCO VITIELLO'S PASSIONATE NIGHTCLUB KISS!" It was him, my husband, devouring a woman who looked like a younger, fresher version of me.
Hours later, Marco stumbled home, drunk and reeking of another woman's perfume. He complained about his mother begging him for an heir, completely unaware of the secret I held. Then my phone lit up with a text from an unknown number.
"Your husband slept with my girl. We need to talk."
It was signed by Dante Moretti, the ruthless Don of our rival family.
The meeting with Dante was a nightmare. He showed me another video. This time, I heard my husband's voice, telling the other woman, "I love you. Elara... that's just business." My fifteen years of loyalty, of building his empire, of taking a bullet for him—all dismissed as "just business."
Dante didn't just reveal the affair; he showed me proof that Marco was already stealing our shared assets to build a new life with his mistress. Then, he made me an offer.
"Divorce him," he said, his eyes cold and calculating. "Join me. We'll build an empire together and destroy him." Blinded By Her Betrayal
Romance The scent of lilies was thick, sweet, and suffocating.
It was my wedding day, a grand affair Chloe had meticulously planned, even insisting on a custom-designed lighting fixture for the venue.
Then the world exploded: metal twisted, glass shattered, and a crushing impact stole my sight, leaving me in a terrifying void.
Chloe stayed by my side, weeping as the doctors delivered their grim prognosis: permanent blindness.
She promised to be my "eyes," to take care of me, and swore our extravagant wedding would still happen, a beacon of eternal devotion.
Her words were a lifeline in the suffocating dark, and I clung to them, believing in a future where her love would guide me.
But then, the flickers started, ghost images resolving into light.
My sight was returning, yet an instinct deep inside told me to keep it a secret.
I continued to play the blind man, observing, listening, hidden in plain sight.
One evening, feigning sleep, I heard Chloe whisper to Mark Stone, her brother-in-law.
"Are you sure this was the only way?" she asked.
"It was the cleanest way," he murmured, "An accident. Now he's helpless. He'll never find out about us."
My heart stopped as I saw Mark kiss her-long and deep-before they spoke of my "inheritance" and a future built on my ruin.
They planned it all: the accident, my blindness, my slow, humiliating descent into a "charity case" to be exploited.
The betrayal was a physical blow, a cold, black void far worse than any darkness they thought they' d cast me into.
They thought me a sightless fool, an easy target.
They had no idea who I truly was, or what I was capable of.
A silent, burning rage ignited within me, hardening into an unbreakable resolve.
They wanted a show?
I would give them one tonight at the wedding-a spectacle they would never forget, where their carefully constructed lies would unravel. The Star Maker's Revenge
Romance I watched the man I loved, the star I' d built from scratch, standing on a stadium stage.
My heart hammered, knowing he was about to call me up, to begin our dreamed-of life together.
But then he smiled, a brilliant, camera-ready smile that didn' t reach his eyes.
"I' d like to welcome to the stage, my fiancée… Nicole Lawrence!"
The name hit me like a physical blow as the polished pop-country princess glided out to kiss him.
Later, when I confronted him with our old demo tape, he stared at me with cold, empty eyes.
"I' m sorry, I don' t know you. You should probably go home."
Then I heard his manager whisper: "Good job. The amnesia story is perfect. We can' t have any small-town baggage dragging you down."
My blood ran cold. It wasn' t amnesia. It was a choice. I was baggage.
The humiliation only escalated.
Nicole publicly mocked me, then staged a fall, screaming I pushed her.
Caleb rushed to her, snarling, "What the hell is wrong with you, Stella? Get her out of here! She' s poison to my career."
Security guards dragged me out, dumping me on the sidewalk.
Days later, Nicole broke my father' s beloved guitar, his legacy.
And Caleb, seeing her theatrical tears, finished the job, stomping on the splintered wood.
He blacklisted my name, starved me of work, and used his fame to have me arrested for a staged poisoning attempt.
I became a pariah, selling my father' s precious mementos to survive.
How could he do this? How could a lifetime of love and shared dreams be erased so easily?
Was I just a forgotten memory, or something worse?
Was this all part of a calculated plan, or was he truly that cruel?
My world shattered, left homeless and brutally attacked in an alleyway, I lay dying.
But then, a shadowy figure appeared, a hand reached down.
I woke up in a sterile room, face-to-face with Wesley Hughes, "The Wanderer."
He told me the truth: Caleb' s betrayal was a calculated move, and Nicole' s malice was intentional.
He had proof.
And more importantly, he revealed our fathers' long-lost pact.
My father' s legacy, our legacy, was waiting to be reclaimed.
This wasn' t the end. This was the beginning of my reckoning. Erase Me? I'll Erase You
Modern The air in the upstairs hallway was thick with the scent of expensive perfume, and I paused, my hand hovering over my bedroom door.
For three decades, I was the unseen force behind my husband, the Governor of Texas, building his dynasty brick by painful brick.
But then, voices from my son' s room shredded that illusion: my daughters-in-law, their hushed tones revealing a chilling plot.
"Stress-induced heart failure within five years," one whispered, detailing my supposed "natural decline" as a pre-programmed exit for a new woman, Sabrina, my husband' s dead college sweetheart' s daughter.
My breath hitched-they were discussing a "system" and a payoff for my demise, orchestrated by my own husband and sons.
The family I built, the sons I raised, saw me as nothing more than a placeholder, destined to conveniently die so a younger, 'fresher' face could inherit my life.
A cold dread, sharp and sickening, turned into a burning rage that pulsed through my veins.
They wanted me gone? They wanted a compliant, tragic matriarch?
I ripped open the door to Andrew' s room, my voice dangerously calm as I asked, "Tell me more about this 'system' ."
They were speechless, frozen in fear, but I wasn't going to die quietly for their convenience.
I was going to burn their carefully constructed world down. The Jilted Bride's Revenge
Romance My New York apartment smelled of lilies and roses, and my perfect Hamptons wedding was just three days away.
Mark Olsen was everything I'd ever wanted: charming, successful, and devoted.
I was about to become Mrs. Mark Olsen, stepping into the solid, perfect future we' d planned.
Then a text from an unknown number shattered my world: "Can't believe you're still going through with this sham wedding. Last weekend was proof you belong with ME. Call it off like you promised, or I will. - T."
My breath hitched.
The words swam before my eyes.
Mark was supposedly at a finance conference that very weekend, but my investigative dive into "T" (Tiffany Hayes, his high school ex) revealed glossy photos of her at his hotel, captured during his supposed conference.
To add insult to injury, Tiffany was already engaged to another man, Alex Walker.
I wasn't just betrayed; I was Mark's desperate fallback plan.
Every cherished moment, every promise over our year-long engagement, felt like a sickening, elaborate lie.
Why propose, why plan this lavish wedding, if I was just a convenient consolation prize?
The thought was humiliating, the destruction of everything I believed our relationship was.
My excitement curdled into icy rage.
I wouldn't just call off the wedding.
I decided to expose them both.
This wouldn't be a celebration of love; it would be their public downfall, and I had just the stage for it: our pre-wedding brunch. My CEO, My Prison
Billionaires My 30th birthday, and my wife, the brilliant tech CEO Izzy Hayes, was late-again.
Living in her opulent New York apartment, I, Ethan Cole, a once-promising surgeon, felt like a ghost, a consequence of a transactional marriage that saved my mother' s life five years ago and simultaneously crushed my own dreams.
Fed up with her absolute indifference, I finally decided to break free.
I accepted a prestigious surgical fellowship in Germany and served her divorce papers.
She signed them on the spot, without a second glance, mistaking them for adoption forms-a brutal testament to how little I meant to her.
But escaping Izzy' s orbit proved impossible.
Her manipulative ex, Marcus Vance, resurfaced, systematically sabotaging my reputation and career.
He staged a fake "assault" at the hospital that got me suspended, and Izzy, completely blind in her work-obsessed world, effortlessly believed his lies, her family joining the cruel chorus, painting me as a jealous villain.
Just as my visa was finally approved, offering me a clear path to reclaim my life, I found her waiting at the airport.
Tears of frustration blurred my vision as she snatched my passport.
"Going somewhere, Ethan Cole?" she smirked, then, with chilling nonchalance, she ripped it in half.
"Oops. Clumsy me." She still believed we were married, choosing to live in that delusion even as her own company began to tank due to Marcus' s cunning schemes.
"You are my husband," she declared, grabbing my arm, dragging me back into her chaotic, high-stakes world.
She forced me to play the role of the devoted spouse, a public facade to salvage her company' s image.
Trapped, bewildered, and furious, I knew this wasn't just a crisis for her, but a crucible for me.
Can I survive this charade? And what will it take to truly escape? From Background Character to Leading Lady
Romance My life as Marcus Thorne's personal assistant was a tightrope walk, fueled by debt and a desperate need for invisibility.
He was Hollywood's most feared mogul, and I was just the anonymous competence making his world run.
Then Tiffany arrived, a caricature of a woman whose perfume assaulted the senses, declaring herself Marcus's "leading lady" and dismissing me as mere "help."
Her delusion quickly escalated from annoying pronouncements to outright malice.
She openly resented a simple silver pendant Marcus had given me, dismissing it as "charity."
She deliberately sabotaged my work, sweeping crucial files across the floor.
Once, she even sloshed scalding coffee onto my hand and keyboard, her smirk dripping with false sympathy.
Her threats grew bolder, hinting she knew a dangerous secret about Marcus's most guarded Blackwood deal.
I tried to endure, focusing on my duties, but her fervent belief in her own rom-com script, coupled with her growing aggression, was deeply unsettling.
How could she be so dangerously unaware of reality, or worse, so brazenly malicious?
The breaking point arrived when she, in an overly dramatic gesture, spilled steaming coffee directly onto Marcus Thorne's immaculate suit.
The room fell silent.
But Marcus didn't look at her; his icy gaze found me.
"Sarah," he said, his voice dangerously quiet.
"Handle this."
It was the first time he truly saw me, not just as background noise. The Party Barn Massacre
Billionaires It was Leo and Lily' s fifth birthday, a bright morning, and my husband Ethan, the real estate mogul, was showering our twins with laughter and kisses.
He promised to see me at my parents' that night, his hand tenderly resting on my pregnant belly, blissfully unaware of the horror about to unfold.
Hours later, the world shattered.
My car was ambushed, my children and I dragged to a remote barn, and then I saw them: Tiffany Monroe, a socialite I vaguely recognized, and... my husband, Ethan, by her side.
They stood watching impassively as men brutally beat my twins, Leo and Lily, to death.
My twins screamed, fought, and then fell limp, moments before Tiff, with Ethan's cold encouragement, burned me with a cigarillo.
Even when I screamed his name, when they ripped my custom locket off, he dismissed me as "trash," declaring his wife "safe" because she had her locket-the very one they'd stolen from me.
The final blow came when he ordered a C-section in front of me, taking my unborn child as a "souvenir" for Tiff.
How could he not know me?
How could the man who promised me forever, the father of my children, casually order my baby carved from me, all because a locket wasn't on my neck?
The pain of his betrayal, his utter blindness, was colder than death itself.
Yet, as one loyal employee saved me from oblivion, I watched Ethan's horror when he finally saw the truth, confirming he was a monster, not an unwitting participant.
It sparked a new life within me, not one of grief, but of ice-cold, calculated revenge.
He took everything.
Now, I will take his empire, his freedom, and his sanity, piece by agonizing piece. A Mother's Deadly Confession
Modern Ava Rodriguez's brilliant brother, Leo, won the acclaimed American Justice Fellowship.
His future was supposed to shine, a beacon of hope for their family.
Then, he died.
They called it suicide, but Leo's last scrawled words to her were: "Don't accept the fellowship."
Ava knew they were lying.
He was murdered, just like every other fellow who threatened the powerful.
For three years, she buried herself in law, watching, waiting, preparing to expose the truth.
Now, she's won the fellowship herself, her proposal a direct challenge to the corrupt system.
But as she publicly declares her brother was murdered and vows to expose the truth, the trap springs shut around her.
Suddenly, she's not the grieving sister seeking justice, but the prime suspect in a series of horrific murders.
Evidence - her brother's unique custom pen, her IP address near other "suicide" scenes - mysteriously emerges, painting her as a cold-blooded serial killer.
Even her own mother, distraught and masked, appears, "confessing" to the crimes to protect Ava, unknowingly deepening the meticulously planned frame-up.
The world spins into a nightmare of accusations and twisted truths.
She' s being set up not to shine, but to be destroyed, with her "suicide" in federal custody as the perfect final act.
How could they twist everything so perfectly? Why her mother' s desperate, bizarre act?
The narrative has been set: Ava Rodriguez, brilliant law graduate, or monstrous serial killer?
Refusing to be another silenced victim, Ava stages a high-stakes escape from federal custody.
She races to the darkest secret her family holds, the one place she believes the real truth lies-her father's grave.
Under the harsh glare of news cameras and the FBI, a shovel in hand, she prepares to dig.
What she unearths will either expose a shocking family secret and a vast conspiracy, or bury her forever. The Runaway Wife's Resolve
Billionaires My life with Ethan was a dream.
High school sweethearts, married five years, he was a charismatic tech mogul, and I loved him deeply.
Then, I got pregnant, and he seemed absolutely over the moon, especially when we learned it was twins.
That dream shattered when I overheard a hushed conversation between Ethan and our fancy OB-GYN.
He was demanding an early C-section for me-not for my health, but to align with his mistress Chloe's due date.
The "twins" he cried tears of joy over? One was hers, a sickening ploy to pass off her baby as ours for a crucial inheritance.
My world tilted on its axis as I discovered I was only carrying one healthy baby.
His tearful joy, his endless doting-every cherished moment was a well-rehearsed performance.
When I fled, he staged a massive "missing person" search, dragging me back to his hospital while still talking about our "high-risk twins" to control me.
Then, on our wedding anniversary, I found him with Chloe, kissing her passionately, planning their wedding right there in the hospital wing he always steered me away from.
How could the man I'd loved for a decade be such a monstrous deceiver, using my body, my pregnancy, and my life as pawns in his twisted game?
The hypocrisy burned, the casual cruelty a punch to the gut.
Everyone around him, even our doctor, was complicit in this horrifying web of lies.
But as I watched his humiliating, live-streamed "wedding" to his mistress from my hospital bed, my heartbreak hardened into icy resolve.
I finally understood the extent of his betrayal, and that very realization ignited a fierce determination within me.
I signed the divorce papers, ready to escape this gilded cage and fight for my freedom and my child's future, no matter the cost. You might like
From Jilted Bride To Mafia Empress
Xiao Wang 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." Rejected By My Family, Desired By The Mafia
Rain_R Camille Laurent was stolen at birth. Swapped by a greedy nanny, abandoned without a second thought, and erased from her rightful place in one of the most powerful families in the country.
While the real heiress struggled to survive, the nanny's daughter, Talia, was raised in luxury as the beloved jewel of the Laurent family, pampered by Camille's parents, adored by her three brothers, and even promised to the prestigious Matteo Devereux through a childhood engagement arranged by their grandparents.
Then the truth came out.
Six months ago, Camille was finally brought back to the Laurent family. To protect the family reputation and prove their devotion to their bloodline, the Laurent patriarch transferred 35% of his personal shares into Camille's name overnight, instantly making her one of the wealthiest heiresses in the country.
It brought anxiety to all the Laurent family. But what they don't know.is that Camille never needed them.
Behind her elegant smile lies a woman filled with secrets powerful enough to shake the whole family. She's a miraculous healer capable of curing the incurable poisons.
Yet despite everything, her family still chooses Talia.
Every accusation against Talia is forgiven. Every scheme against Camille is brushed aside. Even Matteo, the man who was supposed to be Camille's fiancé-cannot let go of the woman he always believed belonged by his side.
But while the Laurent family underestimates Camille, another man begins to see exactly who she is.
Dante Moretti.
The ruthless heir of an old-money dynasty. A billionaire CEO worshipped by the public.and the merciless king of a criminal empire hidden beneath the city's glittering surface. When Dante is poisoned by a rival syndicate with a deadly toxin no doctor can cure, he offers a fortune for anyone who can save him.
Only Camille can. Their deal is simple: she becomes his personal physician, and he gives her anything she wants. The Mafia's Nanny
Um_royhan Emilia's world is crumbling-her brother is in desperate need of a kidney transplant, and she's sold everything to keep him alive. She's on the verge of loosing it all when something unexpected happens at the hospital. Mistaken for the mother of a mafia lord's daughter, Emilia's life does a 180 turn.. Alaric Castillo, cold and commanding, demanded she became his daughter's nanny, and she agreed-on one condition. He'll pay for her brother's surgery.
A tight bond forms between Emilia and the child. But the more time she spends with Alaric, the more she discovers a side of him that's buried beneath layers of control and power. What started as a reluctant partnership soon became something deeper, but in a world ruled by secrets and enemies, love is a dangerous game.
Caught between her past, her present with Alaric, and the deadly feud that is trying to ruin them all, Emilia must decide-will she fight for her heart or walk away from the only family she's ever known?
The Unwanted Bride Becomes The City's Queen
Breeze 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. Abandoned Heiress, Now His Mafia Bride
Priority I was tracing the gold paint on my own tombstone when a hand tapped me on the shoulder.
It was Clayton.
The same man who, five years ago, had left me bleeding out in a ditch because he didn't want to be late for my sister's engagement party.
"Die quietly, Ivy," he had said over the phone before hanging up.
Now, standing over my grave, he dropped his cheap plastic flowers in shock.
"Ivy? You're... we buried you."
They hadn't buried me.
They had buried an empty box to save face, mourning a "troubled" daughter they had actually discarded like broken trash the moment I became a liability.
Clayton's shock quickly turned to that familiar, arrogant anger.
He accused me of faking my death for attention.
He told me I was sick for putting the family through such pain.
He even reached out to grab my arm, intending to drag me back to my father to apologize.
"You're coming with me," he spat. "You owe us an explanation."
But he made a fatal mistake.
He thought he was talking to Ivy Dillard, the soft girl who cried when she skinned her knees.
He didn't notice the town car waiting at the curb, or the man stepping out of it.
Before Clayton's fingers could graze my coat, a hand made of steel caught his wrist.
Collin Richardson, the most feared Capo in Chicago, stepped between us.
"Touch my wife again," Collin whispered, his voice promising violence. "And you lose the hand."
I smiled at the terror draining the color from Clayton's face.
I didn't come back from the dead to explain myself.
I came back to bury them. He Let My Parents Die,Then He Died for Me
Olivia I was lying in a sterile hospital bed, recovering from a severe hemorrhage that had just taken my baby. Hours later, a police officer handed me a bloodstained watch, informing me my parents had been killed in a car crash rushing to see me.
My husband, the city's most feared Mafia Don and a brilliant trauma surgeon, ignored my seventy-six desperate calls.
Instead, he was busy buying a designer puppy for his mistress. He even let her shred the baby blanket my late mother had painstakingly knitted, turning it into a crude dog sweater. When I confronted them, the man who refused to hold my hand in public due to his severe germaphobia slapped me across the face to protect her.
"You are embarrassing yourself and this Family. Apologize to Mia right now."
I had surrendered my dream of being a journalist to be his perfect, docile wife. I lived in a heavily guarded estate, caged by his control issues, while he used the blood money of his empire to fund his mistress's extravagant life. He thought my parents' death was a lie I invented to win an argument. He thought I was a broken, powerless woman who would swallow the humiliation to keep his protection.
He was completely wrong.
During the lavish banquet meant to clear his mistress's name, I hijacked the live broadcast to expose his embezzlement and their graphic sex tape to the entire underworld.
Then, I served him the divorce papers and bought a one-way ticket to a war zone. Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles
Dorine Koestler 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. The Crimson Throne
Eva obrien The Crimson Throne
By Eva Obrien
In a world where loyalty is lethal and love is a weakness, she must choose between vengeance and survival.
When Adriana De Luca's father-the powerful leader of the De Luca crime family-is assassinated, she is left with two options: run and die in hiding or fight to claim the throne that was never meant for her. But in the ruthless world of the mafia, power is taken, not given.
To secure her survival, she is forced into an arranged marriage with Lorenzo "Enzo" Moretti, a feared and merciless mafia kingpin who trusts no one. Their union is meant to bring peace between warring families, but when hidden enemies start striking from the shadows, Adriana realizes the real threat isn't outside-it's within.
As betrayals unfold and a war erupts, Adriana must decide:
✔ Trust the man she was forced to marry, or destroy him before he destroys her.
✔ Hunt down her father's killer, or become the next target.
✔ Rule with blood, or risk being buried by it.
In a game where love is dangerous and power is deadly, will she survive long enough to take what's hers?