C.D
8 Published Stories
C.D's Books and Stories
He Betrayed Me, Now He Begs
Mafia 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." The Sterling Scandal: Married To The Uncle
Billionaires I was at my own engagement party at the Sterling estate when the world started tilting. Victoria Sterling, my future mother-in-law, smiled coldly as she watched me struggle with a cup of tea that had been drugged to ruin me.
Before I could find my fiancé, Ryan, a waiter dragged me into the forbidden West Wing and locked me in a room with Julian Sterling, the family’s "fallen titan" who had been confined to a wheelchair for years.
The door burst open to a frenzy of camera flashes and theatrical screams. Victoria framed me as a seductress caught in the act, and Ryan didn't even try to listen to my pleas, calling me "cheap leftovers" before walking away with his pregnant mistress. When I turned to my own family for help, my father signed a document severing our relationship for a five-million-dollar payout from Julian. They traded me like a commodity without a second thought.
I didn't understand why my own parents were so eager to sell me, or how Ryan could look at me with such disgust after promising me forever. I was a sacrifice, a pawn used to protect the family's offshore accounts, and I couldn't fathom how every person I loved had a price tag for my destruction.
With nowhere left to go, I married Julian in a bleak ceremony at City Hall. He slid a heavy diamond onto my finger and whispered, "We have a war to start." That night, inside his secret penthouse, I watched the paralyzed man stand up from his wheelchair and activate a screen filled with the Sterling family's darkest secrets. The execution had officially begun. His Wife's Secret, His Burning Rage
Romance For six months, I clung to the belief my wife, Sophia, was in Europe saving her family's struggling hospital-the one I' d poured my career into.
Then she came home, stepping out of the car beaming, but not alone; her personal assistant, Mark, was with her, pulling her luggage.
"I have something wonderful to tell you," she chirped, taking my hand, her eyes betraying a nervous flutter.
"I'm pregnant," she announced, placing a protective hand on her stomach.
My heart soared until her gaze shifted to Mark, and she added, "It's not yours."
The world spun. My wife, pregnant with another man's child, stood before me in my home.
"I'm three months along," she offered, clinically.
Before the shock could fully register, she brazenly declared, "I need you. The baby has a congenital heart defect. A procedure only you perfected."
She wanted me to save her lover's child. I was a surgeon, not a pawn.
"No," I choked out, but her mask crumbled, revealing a ruthless stranger.
"You will. Or I'll divorce you, tell the world you refused to save an innocent child, ruin your reputation, and destroy the hospital you built."
Then, a chilling memory resurfaced: our miscarriage, years ago. Sophia had been oddly dismissive then, saying, "It was just a bunch of cells. Don't be so dramatic."
Now, overhearing her on the phone with Mark, it clicked: "I'm not going to do something stupid like go jet-skiing just to show off for you again. We learned our lesson, didn't we?"
Jet-skiing. She' d been eight weeks pregnant with our child then. She' d risked our baby' s life to impress him.
My child hadn't been an accident; it had been a calculated choice. The love I felt for her vanished, replaced by a cold, hard resolve.
I would do the surgery. But the moment that child was stable, I would burn our lives to the ground and walk away. The Woman He Threw Away
Romance For ten years, Liam was my world.
I was the silent force behind Aegis, his tech empire, turning a garage startup into a titan on the brink of its IPO.
Every all-nighter, every neutralized threat, every high-stakes deal – I was there, a ghost in the shadows, believing his promise: "Once Aegis goes public, Ava… I' ll make you my wife."
But tonight, at the pre-IPO celebration, I overheard him.
He called me a "loyal old dog," suitable only for a "generous severance package," while declaring his intention to marry "pure, clean" Chloe.
My world shattered. The man I loved, the man I sacrificed everything for, saw me as something disposable, a liability from a past he wanted to bury.
He said Chloe was the "prize at the top," and I was merely a "partner for the climb."
The ultimate betrayal, a decade of my life reduced to a job, my loyalty deemed an investment he' d now pay out with calculated interest.
I walked through hell for him, taking bullets and doing his dirty work so his hands could stay "clean," only to be cast aside for being "unclean" myself.
Then, he was kidnapped. And even after he threw me away like trash, I walked into a den of armed killers, taking two bullets for him, just to cut the final ties.
He ran straight to his new love, leaving me bleeding on the cold concrete.
Now, he' s back, crawling, begging for forgiveness and offering me everything-his company, his name, his future-because his "prize" betrayed him.
But I'm not a trophy to be won back. He shattered me, and I refuse to be pieced back together for his convenience.
My past is a battlefield, my scars are my resume, and this time, I choose myself. Heart's Sorrow Unboxed
Romance The world slammed back into me in a dizzying rush. One moment, oblivion. The next, I was back in a familiar bed, the sun warm, the scent of roses faint.
My heart seized at the June 12th calendar-the day it all began to unravel in my first life, the day before Richard announced he was funneling our savings into his first love' s art gallery.
Then he walked in, handsome and dismissive, still my husband, yet a stranger. The sight of him brought nothing but a hollow echo.
I stood by the fireplace, a silent observer as Vivian Hayes, ethereal and artfully fragile, entered the room, captivating Richard with a tenderness he' d never shown me.
Later, the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place: a beautifully wrapped gift, a silver hairpin "Heart' s Sorrow," a sketch Vivian had made, fumbled into my hands by a clearly distracted Richard.
My husband had handed me a gift meant for his artistic mistress, the one he had always loved more. The bitter taste of betrayal choked me.
This time, I closed the box and pushed it back across the table. "I think you' ve made a mistake," I said, my voice clear as a bell, shattering the forced cheer of the family dinner.
The silence was deafening, Margaret' s smile frozen, Richard' s jaw tight, Vivian' s face a mask of shock.
I placed my napkin on the table, the desire for divorce no longer a desperate plea, but a cold, final business decision.
"If you'll excuse me," I said, walking away from the stunned table, leaving behind the wreckage of a life I was no longer willing to live.
I was alive, I was back, and this time, I was going to rewrite my own story. Swamp Witch's Vengeance
Fantasy I used my bayou magic, a forbidden art that deals with life and death, to save Julian Thorne, a rising politician, sacrificing a piece of my own life force for his.
I poured everything into him, funding his comeback, turning my folk wisdom into his sharpest political instincts, enduring cheap noodles so he could dine with the powerful.
I thought I loved the man he could be, a man who was initially kind even to my disabled brother, Leo.
But when his political future was threatened, Julian ruthlessly betrayed us.
He framed Leo and me for drug dealing, sacrificing us to save his career and becoming a U.S. Senator.
Imprisoned, Leo suffered brutal injury from guards, losing his mind forever, leaving him with the cognitive function of a small child.
Julian then moved us into a gilded cage on his D.C. estate, marrying a socialite for power, always assuring me he was protecting us.
Years blurred until his cruel stepson, Thomas, brutally beat Leo to death for a trivial lie.
Julian and his wife, Isabelle, watched, then arranged for Leo' s small body to be disposed of like trash, covering up the murder without a thought.
The ultimate betrayal came when I overheard Julian' s security calling Leo' s death a "blessing in disguise," "one less loose end."
Every sacrifice, every drop of love, shattered into an icy shard.
The man I saved, the man I loved, saw my brother and me only as liabilities, disposable.
My heart, once full, turned to stone, not in grief, but in a cold, hard rage.
I was no longer a victim; I was a reckoning.
That night, at his grand political gala, I unleashed the full, untamed power of the bayou, plunging his world into chaos.
I secured Leo' s body, started a truck, and left, the gris-gris bag containing Julian' s life pulsing in my pocket.
The debt had begun to be repaid. Hidden Heir's Revenge
Modern I, Ethan, had one rule: make it on my own merits, no family help, despite my parents being Silicon Valley legends. For three years, I poured my soul into "Project Prometheus," a project meant to launch my career to new heights, all while planning a future with my fiancée, Chloe.
Then, a single LinkedIn notification shattered my world: Chloe's smirking intern, Leo, was taking credit for my project, my invaluable work.
When I confronted Chloe, she looked at me with tired annoyance, not guilt, casually dismissing it as "just a title" for Leo's career, before brazenly asking me to endorse his fake "contribution." My furious refusal only made things worse; suddenly, I was the subject of office whispers and Marcus, my director, inexplicably sided with Chloe, burying my name on the project and putting me on a death-sentence Performance Improvement Plan. Chloe publicly smeared me as "non-collaborative," then privately texted: "You lost."
How could the woman I planned to marry so casually steal my life's work, mock my integrity, and try to make me an accomplice in my own professional execution? The unfairness was a physical weight, suffocating me, watching them twist the truth while my irrefutable evidence was ignored. My integrity was utterly worthless against her malicious lies.
Backed into a corner, my reputation destroyed and career hanging by a thread, I finally made the call I swore I never would: "Mom, Dad," I choked out, "I tried to handle this myself, but I can't anymore. I need your help." The Kidney Donor and the Billionaire's Bride
Romance Ellie Miller existed on the fringes, working grueling shifts under humming fluorescent lights, a constant, phantom ache in her lower back a cruel reminder of the kidney she'd sacrificed.
Every dime earned from Chicago's greasy spoons vanished into impossible medical bills and her father’s crushing business debts.
Just when she thought despair was her only companion, a call from an unknown New York number pulled her back to a world she thought lost forever.
Margaret Nolan, a kind older woman from her past, was gravely ill and asking for her.
But this summons plunged Ellie into an abyss of cold disdain, orchestrated by Margaret’s powerful grandson, Ethan Nolan, and his icy, manipulative fiancée, Victoria.
Victoria, whose distant relative had received Ellie’s life-saving kidney, seized every opportunity to publicly humiliate her, painting her as a conniving opportunist.
The lavish Nolan mansion became a gilded cage of whispers and condescending stares, a stark contrast to Ellie's tattered reality.
The public torment climaxed brutally when loan sharks, relentless in their pursuit of her father’s old debts and her own manipulated medical loans, cornered her in a dark alley, leaving her beaten and utterly broken.
How could her selfless sacrifice, intended to bring relief, only drag her deeper into suffering and public shame?
Why did Ethan, the one who seemed capable of understanding, stubbornly believe Victoria’s venomous narrative, dismissing Ellie’s every desperate plea?
Trapped, defeated, and with nothing left to lose, Ellie made a desperate, terrifying choice.
She would orchestrate a final, shocking escape, letting the world believe she was gone forever, vanishing into the unknown to carve out a new existence free from her tormentors. You might like
Rejected by the Son, I Chose the Don
Rabbit 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.
The Discarded Wife Is A Mafia Queen
Shore Tour I am the wife of Dante Moretti, a powerful Mafia Underboss. But in secret, I am "Spettro," the phantom architect who built his entire encrypted bootlegging empire.
On my birthday, I came home to find him gifting our five-year-old daughter the exact plush toy he had violently slapped out of my hands months ago. Only this time, he was giving it to his mistress, Adriana, to present as her own.
"Auntie Adriana is a million times better than Mommy."
My daughter's innocent words pierced my heart, while Dante coldly dismissed my presence, treating me like an unwelcome stranger interrupting their perfect family. He mocked my mothering, allowed his mistress to sever my desperate phone calls with my child, and weaponized his power to break our daughter's spirit just to spite me. He sneered that my only purpose was to stay quiet, absolutely certain I would crawl back the second my allowance ran dry.
He thought I was just a weak, submissive wife who had lost everything. He didn't realize that the empire he arrogantly ruled was entirely built on my stolen brilliance.
I left my diamond ring on the table, violently slashed our ancient blood oath in half, and walked out of his gilded cage forever.
Sitting in a cold warehouse, I placed my hands on my telegraph machine and initiated the Ghost Protocol to permanently paralyze his entire criminal network.
The era of playing the dutiful wife was over. I am Donna Falcone, and the vendetta has just begun. The Runaway Heiress's Defiant Comeback
Roldan Mccartney For five years, I lived a beautiful lie. I was Aliana Hughes, the cherished wife of the city's most feared Mafia Capo and the beloved daughter of the Don. I believed my arranged marriage had blossomed into love.
On my birthday, my husband promised me the amusement park. Instead, I found him there with his other family, celebrating the fifth birthday of the son I never knew he had.
I overheard their plan. My husband called me a "naive fool," a placeholder to legitimize his secret son. The ultimate betrayal wasn't his affair, but the sight of my own father's car parked across the street. My family wasn't just aware; they were the architects of my ruin.
Back home, I found the proof: a secret photo album of my husband's other family posing with my parents, and records showing my father had bankrolled the entire deception. They had even drugged me on weekends so he could play happy family.
The grief didn't break me. It turned into something cold and sharp. I was a ghost in a life that was never mine, and a ghost has nothing to lose.
I copied every damning file onto a USB drive. As they celebrated their perfect day, I sent a courier with my parting gift: a recording of their treachery. While their world burned, I walked toward the airport, ready to erase myself and start over. 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. A BRIDE FOR THE MAFIA LORD
Nooriva "Where do you think you're going, huh? You're mine now, Little Mouse. Get back in the house!" Vincenzo's voice boomed, sending chills down Victoria's spine as her world seemed to crumble.
Victoria Washington was shattered-betrayed by her boyfriend who dumped her the day before his wedding, to her sister. She was left humiliated, mocked by everyone. But fate had other plans for her.
She's broken, he's lost. She's full of fear, and he's the monster. Yet, somehow, he's her light while he remains in darkness.
Vincenzo Dante will stop at nothing to tarnish his family's name for forcing him into a marriage he never wanted. But what he doesn't realize is that his new wife is stronger than she seems-too broken to bend under his cruelty. But when love begins to bloom, and secrets start to unfold, what will happen next?
My Husband's Brother Owns My Secret
Rabbit 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. Reborn From Fire: The Ex-wife's Revenge
Lunacy Heidi gripped the sterile hospital bedsheets as violent contractions ripped her body apart.
The heavy door opened, but it wasn't the doctor. It was Brigette, wearing the exact custom wedding dress Heidi had spent six months designing for herself.
Brigette held up her phone on speaker. When the doctor warned that a natural delivery would kill the mother, Christian Page's voice echoed through the room, ice-cold and devoid of any warmth.
"Prioritize the Page heirs. Let her die."
The man she loved had just signed her death warrant over the phone.
Brigette stole her newborn twins, dragged her to an abandoned warehouse, and poured gasoline over her bare legs.
Flicking a lit cigar into the puddle, Brigette left Heidi tied to an iron pillar to burn alive.
But as the flames formed a deadly circle around her, Heidi's body convulsed with a terrifying truth.
In the heart of the blazing inferno, she miraculously gave birth to two more babies she didn't know she was carrying.
Using her own back as a human shield against the falling embers, she survived the fire, but the ultimate betrayal burned deeper than her ruined skin.
Four years later, Heidi returned to New York with a reconstructed face, two brilliant children, and a terrifying new identity as the world's top underground surgeon.
When Christian, entirely unaware of who she was, signed a waiver begging her to save his dying grandfather's life, Heidi looked into his desperate eyes with absolute, clinical boredom.
"The game starts now," she said coldly. His Discarded Gem: Shining In The Ruthless Don's Arms
Temple Madison For four years, I traced the bullet scar on Chace’s chest, believing it was proof he would bleed to keep me safe.
On our anniversary, he told me to wear white because "tonight changes everything." I walked into the gala thinking I was getting a ring.
Instead, I stood frozen in the center of the ballroom, drowning in silk, watching him slide his mother's sapphire onto another woman's finger.
Karyn Warren. The daughter of a rival family.
When I begged him with my eyes to claim me, to save me from the public humiliation, he didn't flinch. He just leaned toward his Underboss, his voice amplified by the silence.
"Karyn is for power. Ember is for pleasure. Don't confuse the assets."
My heart didn't just break; it incinerated. He expected me to stay as his mistress, threatening to dig up my dead mother’s grave if I refused to play the obedient pet.
He thought I was trapped. He thought I had nowhere to go because of my father’s massive gambling debts.
He was wrong.
With shaking hands, I pulled out my phone and texted the one name I was never supposed to use.
Keith Mosley. The Don. The monster under Chace's bed.
*I am invoking the Blood Oath. My father’s debt. I am ready to pay it.*
His reply came three seconds later, buzzing against my palm like a warning.
*The price is marriage. You belong to me. Yes or No?*
I looked up at Chace, who was laughing with his new fiancée, thinking he owned me.
I looked down and typed three letters.
*Yes.* 
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