Di ja Pen
2 Published Stories
Di ja Pen 's Books and Stories
Her Tormentor ( Sinfully his.)
Mafia Take her."
" Aunt!" A horrified gasp followed.
" Do you mean it ?" A deep gruffly voice questioned. His voice was dripping with malice and beneath his eyes he gazed at the girl figure mostly on her bra straps and her ass slightly shot out.
What if the deal you made turned into an unimaginable mistake beyond your control?. Several deals can be made in life , but one can either change or ruin your life . .
Ixora was sold as a commodity to loan shark. No she was replaced with the debts of her greedy and wicked Aunt , Clarice .
She was sold as a toy. Not knowing whose master to serve . Ixora found herself in the most dangerous clan in Spain as a sex toy. A toy that warms it's master bed and satisfy its master primal urges. A toy the master discard however and whenever he likes.
A toy with no say or doing.
Mafia's are everywhere , dangerous and wealthy. They own everything. Money , wealth , power belongs to them. They were dreaded so much that normal peasants like Adrianna never wanted to come across with them.. But Ixora ended up as a sex toy in a devil harem . The most dangerous harem in the whole of Spain.
How did she end up this way? . Why is fate so cruel to her. At the age of twenty she is being sold out as a sex toy and worse , on her birthday!!!!
~
Hades Kings , the most dangerous Mafia Don in Spain. The King of Mafia's heirs. He is ruthless than the devil himself. His jawline line sharp and well chiseled , his features irresistibly seductive. It can break every wall of your resistance and his dark gray eyes that carried so much power within them . Hades who we call DIABLO [ DEVIL] , A SADISTIC AND CRUEL PSYCHOPATH
Hades King is the leader of Kings empire , Kings Villa , Kings airline , King's brewery, King's publishing house , King's foodies a popularly know global restaurant and various more companies you can imagine. He got wealth at his feet and power in his grasp.
Women's flooded themselves around him shamelessly . The men looked unto him with envy. But Hades has a dark past. One that hadn't been noticed by anyone yet and he is not ready to share it with anyone.
IN HIS WORLD, WHERE, :
El amo es traición (LOVE IS TREASON~)
El cariño es quinididad (AFFECTION IS INQUITY~)
La devoción es mortal (DEVOTION IS DEADLY ~)
Hades got entangled with all these .
Bad Boy Love
Adventure
It all started with a Dare , a mean one a that . A Dare that would ruin her life and destroy her dreams .
Every message pass through the messenger . And who was the messenger ?.
Jayden Brooklyn , A name that would change her life forever .
Dove William was a 3rd year psychology student , she kept to herself and avoided trouble as best as she can . She had her 1424 college plan ,and it was sailing great , until she met Jayden on her 1300 day on college . Unlike other girls , Dove hated distraction and and had few friends but when he came everything change. She tried pushing him off but he was like a leach and stucked to her annoyingly . " What was she going to do , he isn't part of her 1412 College plan.!"
Jayden Stuck only to humiliate her!
How it all started.
*Club night.*
On a dark evening ,the noise could be heard , crazy noise coming from drunk boys and girls ,some were underaged but there were rocking the party . Sex was also done openly without shame !
In a slightly calm room .The light was dim ,all that could be heard were loud kissing sounds and moans .
Over the corner ,sat Jayden ,he had three girls pleasuring him but he soon lost interest . He push one away ,she tried to come closer but a glare stopped her ,the other two left without a word.
" Boring " . A voice yelled.
"Yea , let play a game "
"What game should we play ? " Another asked
" let play Truth or Dare " Another suggested , they all mummured with agreements .
" Alright ,I will go first " .The girl picked the bottle with a dirty smirk on her face .
"Spin !"
"Spin!". The crowd yell and as she did .
There was total silence as the bottle stopped rolling . Low gasps were heard .
Jayden raised his head slowly, despite the dim light , his sexiness could not he hidden ,he had long hair that covered half of his face . His smoky gray eyes suited his aura , his lips was inviting , red cheery lips .
Most girls got wet a just by staring at his face ,but don't be decieved by his looks , Jayden is a jerk , an arrogant and heartless play boy . A girl broken tears is like music in his ears.
The girl smirked at Jayden, and bit her lip. The crowd stare anticipated .
"So Jayden ,Truth or Dare ?."She asked staring at his lips .
" Dare" .He muttered with aloofness , smoking wildly.
The girl smirked in satisfaction ,as she stared at Jayden.
" What the Dare going to be ? "
" Ask me to fuck me just
once".
"Hey bitch !, Since we are friends let him ride me still sky."
The girl stopped up , her skirt , or should I call it a pant exposed her underwear. Her Crop top had a deep cleavage ,she look beautiful but Jayden wasn't interested. Her boobs bounced freely as she walked closer , probably because she wasn't wearing a bra
"What's is gonna be Charlotte ?" . Someone snapped . Her suspense was killing everyone. The girl named Charlotte smirked and pull out a photograph. ...
"Here is the Dare ". She passed it to a guy ,who handed the picture over to everyone else , it was part of the truth and Dare ritual. As they were all standing to have a peep at the photograph.
" Name Dove Moore ,a 300Law Student , she is 23of year ....and has never been in love ". Charlotte said the last sentence , staring at Jayden intently . Jayden eyes flew open as someone handed him the photograph . He glance at the photograph , Dove was wearing a frown but she still glowed she had a blond hair ,and her sapphire blue eyes shone . The picture wasn't a full one but anyone could see that she is beautiful . She had no make up on ,and her gaze was focused on a book .
Jayden smirked . He loves having new girls , especially one that he can break .
Charlotte with a frown said" Fuck with her and post it on the blog"
Gasp filled the Air .
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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. 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." The Underboss's Obsession: Stealing The Bride
Diversion Three days before the wedding.
I was hiding in the dressing room, watching my fiancé caress the swollen belly of another woman.
Luca, the man who had saved my life five years ago, was smiling at his mistress, Sofia. But the real knife to the heart wasn't the affair—it was the dress.
The custom wedding gown he had "lovingly" ordered for me featured intricate silver embroidery along the hem.
It didn't spell Elena.
It read Sofia.
He was planning to make me walk down the aisle wearing his mistress's name.
Later that night, I found a video of him mocking me to his crew, calling me a "dead fish" and admitting he only wanted my family's Capo status. He planned to keep his "true love" on the side while I played the role of the oblivious, ornamental wife.
He thought I was just a sheltered princess. He forgot that my bloodline was built on vengeance.
I didn't cry. I didn't confront him. Instead, I scrubbed his scent off my skin and dialed a number everyone in Chicago feared.
"The pact with the Cavallaro family," I asked my father, my voice cold as stone. "Is it still valid?"
"Dante is the Underboss now," my father warned. "He is a butcher. He breaks men for sport."
"Good," I replied. "I am done playing with boys."
I secretly booked the Gold Ballroom across the hall from my original venue. Luca thought he was walking into a marriage on Saturday.
He didn't know I was bringing a monster to the altar instead. My Mafia Husband's Betrayal, My Fury
Kinship My husband, Don Lorenzo Bianchi, the man who once took ninety-nine lashes for me, had just locked me in a guest room. I was four months pregnant with our child, the heir to his mafia empire.
My crime was throwing a glass of wine on his mistress, a woman he had moved into our home.
She cornered me in the garden, gloating that once the baby was born, he would give it to her to raise as her own. Later, she shoved me down the grand staircase, then threw herself down after me, screaming to my husband that I had tried to kill her.
As I lay in a pool of my own blood, Lorenzo rushed past me, scooping her into his arms and carrying her away without a single backward glance.
To force me to apologize, he had my parents brought to my hospital room and brutally whipped until they collapsed at his feet.
He was no longer the man who had 999 crystals sewn into my wedding dress. He was a monster who believed every lie she told and punished me for her crimes. How could the man who swore to love me forever become this cruel stranger?
But he didn't know the truth. Days before the fall, I had secretly terminated the pregnancy. I took the urn containing our child's ashes, filed for divorce, and disappeared from his world forever. 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. Too Late, Mr. Mafia: The Surgeon He Discarded
Winnie Suchoff I was the wife of Dante Cavalli, the most ruthless mafia Don in the country.
But today, his Underboss slid mandatory annulment papers across my hospital bed, ordering me to dissolve our marriage.
In my past life, I dropped to my knees and begged them not to abandon me.
I spent the next thirty years locked in Dante's massive penthouse, waiting for a man who bathed the streets in blood but never gave me a single drop of warmth.
My aristocratic mother-in-law stripped me of every cent, leaving me completely isolated.
I foolishly threw away a brilliant surgical career to be a submissive, obedient mafia wife.
In the end, Dante never came to see me, and I died entirely alone in that massive, empty bed.
Until my last breath, my chest was suffocated by a lifetime of regrets.
I couldn't understand why I had sacrificed my freedom and my scalpels for a man who would only feel a twisted guilt decades after I was already a cold corpse.
Opening my eyes again, Fate had dragged me back to the exact day my nightmare truly began.
Matteo stood at the foot of my bed, clearly expecting my usual pathetic tears.
"Take your time to think about it."
This time, I didn't cry or beg for my life.
I just picked up the fountain pen, signed my name, and walked out to reclaim the scalpel I had abandoned.