HONEY MULLINS
12 Published Stories
HONEY MULLINS's Books and Stories
The Don's $46 Million Mistake
Mafia I married Luca Falcone, the most dangerous Mafia Don in New York, believing our arranged union had blossomed into true love.
But exactly five minutes after our vows, he smashed my father's face into the glass wedding table in front of three hundred guests.
"Giovanni Rossi is accused of embezzling forty-six million dollars from this Family!"
With those words, he sentenced my father to a brutal blood tribunal.
I was dragged into a freezing underground cell in my ruined silk wedding dress.
His Head of Intelligence threw a surveillance dossier at me, revealing that Luca's twenty months of romance was just a cold, calculated investigation to destroy my family.
My mother was left dry-heaving on the marble floor in terror, and my father's heart gave out as he was dragged to the infirmary.
I stared at the photos of our dates, the agonizing realization suffocating me.
Every morning coffee, every gentle touch, and every whispered promise in the dark was an elaborate lie.
He had tracked my every move for nearly two years but never trusted me enough to just ask about the money, choosing the word of a jealous operative over his own wife.
So, I wiped my tears and stopped playing the docile bride.
I calmly summoned my corporate lawyer and dropped the federal tax records proving I was a secret billionaire CEO.
The forty-six million was my own legal money, saved to treat my father's terminal cancer.
Ignoring the ruthless Don as he finally dropped to his knees in tears, I left my wedding ring on the divorce papers and walked out. Trapped By The Ruthless Mafia Boss
Mafia I was a former diamond prodigy, now hiding in the city's grimy underbelly as a cheap club waitress. I thought I had hit rock bottom, until the night I took a shortcut home.
I accidentally witnessed Broderick Lancaster—the ruthless heir to a criminal empire—dumping a twitching body into an acid vat. I made a sound, and his men hunted me down, putting a bullet in my shoulder before I barely escaped into a freezing sewer.
Forced back to work by my abusive boss, I covered my bullet wound with a garish butterfly tattoo and painted my face like a tragic, ugly clown to hide in plain sight. But fate is cruel. Broderick booked the VIP suite that very night. While serving him, I watched him casually slice a man's ear off. In my absolute terror, I dropped a heavy crystal bowl. The room went dead silent. Broderick walked over, a bloody knife in hand, and sliced the strap of my dress, exposing my tattooed shoulder—the exact spot his men had shot.
My blood turned to ice. I was inches away from the monster hunting me. I sobbed and babbled like a brainless, terrified idiot, praying he wouldn't recognize the ghost who outran his killers.
He bought the act and walked away in disgust. I thought I had survived, until I heard his cold voice declare his next move.
"My team takes over security for this entire establishment. Effective immediately."
My sanctuary had just become his hunting ground. The Substitute Wife's Spectacular Comeback
Billionaires When Chloe accidentally sliced her hand open, she immediately called her husband of three years for comfort.
Bentley claimed he was stuck in Chicago on a business trip. But when Chloe went to the hospital for stitches, she saw him in a VIP room, tenderly kissing the hand of a fragile woman who looked exactly like her.
Breaking into his locked study, Chloe found his hidden journal. She realized she was just a cheap substitute. He had only married her because she was a dead ringer for his fiancé, Blair, who had been in a coma. Now that Blair was awake, Bentley brought her to Chloe's private dress fitting.
"Give her the dress. You're being selfish," Bentley demanded coldly.
He forced Chloe to strip off her custom-made Met Gala gown to please Blair. He even secretly laced Chloe's daily tea with pills to ensure she never got pregnant.
For three years, Chloe had built her life around him, only to realize her entire marriage was a cruel joke. How could he hold her tightly in their bed, whisper another woman's name in his sleep, and expect her to just accept it?
When Bentley ripped up the divorce papers and threatened to destroy her architectural career, Chloe didn't shed a single tear.
She packed up her blueprints, secured a billion-dollar island project with a mysterious tycoon, and walked out the door.
This time, the substitute was resigning. Drowning In Betrayal: Watch Me Shine Now
Modern I was lying in the emergency room with acute gastroenteritis on my birthday, but my mother ordered me to rip out my IV needle.
She threatened to freeze all my accounts if I didn't show up to my adopted sister's high-society matchmaking party.
When I arrived, dragging my weak body, I caught my fiancé Julio protecting his mistress.
Worse, my adopted sister Billie framed me for stealing my own grandmother's heirloom earrings just to play the victim in front of New York's elite.
I refused to be their stepping stone and projected the evidence of Julio's affair on the massive ballroom screen.
In a rage, my father cursed me, and my mother slapped me across the face so hard my mouth bled.
During the ensuing physical struggle, my adopted sister, the mistress, and I all plunged into the freezing outdoor swimming pool.
My fiancé desperately swam to save his mistress, while my own brother rushed to pull my adopted sister above the water.
I stopped kicking and let my heavy, soaked clothes pull me down to the bottom of the black pool.
Why did my own flesh and blood treat me like garbage?
After a mysterious bodyguard pulled me from the water, I watched my family frantically wrap the other two women in warm blankets.
I didn't shed a single tear.
"I am no longer a part of this family. I never want to see any of you again."
I publicly canceled the engagement, turned my back on the wealthy estate, and walked away into the freezing winter night. The Billionaire's Secret Triplets: Mom's Revenge
Modern Six years ago, I was a naive girl sold by my father to the powerful Sanders estate, only to be tossed onto the streets after a brutal assault they labeled "marital infidelity." I fled the country pregnant and broken, hiding from the shadow of a husband I had never even met. Now, I've returned to New York with my triplets to sign the final divorce papers and disappear forever.
But Archibald Sanders-the man I was told was a crippled recluse-intercepted us with the cold precision of a predator. He didn't see the woman his family destroyed; he saw a gold-digger who had shamed his name. His security team hunted us to a grimy motel, using tactical force to snatch my children away and drag me to his glass-walled empire.
In his office, he loomed over me, demanding a DNA test and threatening to throw me in prison while my babies were lost to the foster system. He was convinced I'd cheated, yet he stared at my sons with a haunting confusion, unable to ignore the stormy blue eyes that were a perfect mirror of his own. I stood there, paralyzed by his scent-the sharp tang of rain and expensive leather that triggered the icy dread of my worst nightmares.
How could he accuse me of betrayal when he felt exactly like the monster who had shattered my life in that dark hotel room?
"I'll sign anything," I sobbed, "just give me my kids."
But the game changed when my five-year-old son hacked the tower's security, holding the skyscraper hostage to save me. In the chaos, a fragile, silent boy-Archibald's secret son-wandered into the room and reached for me as if I were his missing soul. Archibald's face turned to stone as he tore up the agreement and locked the doors.
"Until I find out why my son is looking at you like that," he growled, "you aren't going anywhere." From Political Wife To Power Player
Modern I was the perfect political wife, the brilliant strategist behind my husband Hamilton' s mayoral campaign. Our life was a masterpiece of ambition and domestic bliss.
Then, a single message on his laptop shattered it all: a hotel key card, a winking devil emoji, and a note about their next "policy discussion."
My first thought was our rebellious daughter, Bryanna. But the truth was far worse. The affair was with a young staffer, Kalie. And Bryanna wasn't a victim; she was an accomplice.
I overheard her telling Hamilton that Kalie "gets him" and that I was just a "drama queen." She was covering for them, idolizing the woman destroying our family.
My own daughter saw me as an obstacle, a burden. She and my husband were in on the lie together, laughing at me behind my back. They thought I was a fool.
They were wrong. They broke the wife, but they unleashed the strategist. On election eve, in front of the entire city and live television cameras, I decided I would introduce the world to the real Hamilton Fields. His Betrayal, Her Billion-Dollar Revenge
Modern For three years, I played the part of a simple housewife for my husband, Cedric. I buried my true self-Eleanor Curry, heiress to a massive security firm-to be the quiet wife he claimed to love.
Then a chemical plant exploded. In the chaos, Cedric shielded his teammate, Cassidy, and left me behind in a collapsing building.
"Forget her," I heard him tell his men. "She' s useless. A dead weight."
I survived, only for him to force me, while I was injured and feverish, to donate blood to Cassidy for her "severe" injuries.
But then I overheard them laughing in the next room. Her injuries were a lie. It was all a "little lesson," he said, to teach me my place.
As my own wound reopened and bled through my gown, I reached for the hidden device in my bag. "Falcon reporting."
A gravelly voice answered instantly. "Welcome home, little bird. We've been waiting." His Cruel Game, Her Perfect Escape
Romance On the first anniversary of our reconciliation, I thought my tech mogul husband and I had finally turned a corner. Then I discovered our entire marriage was a spectator sport. It was a cruel, year-long revenge game orchestrated by him and his lover, and I was the punchline.
For their amusement, I was poisoned with food contaminated with dog feces, publicly humiliated with a twenty-million-dollar auction scam, and beaten until my ribs broke by his family's private security. I endured it all, playing the part of the clueless, loving wife while they laughed about it in a group chat called "The Jillian Andrews Comedy Hour."
But their grand finale was a step too far. I overheard him calmly planning to leave me to die in a remote cabin during a blizzard, a "tragic accident" that would finally set him free to be with his mistress.
He thought he was writing the final chapter of my life.
He didn't know I was about to use his murder plot as my own perfect escape. I faked my death, vanished into thin air, and left him to explain to the world how his beloved wife disappeared off the face of the earth. Married To A Billionaire's Deception
Billionaires For five years, I worked three jobs to support my husband's dream. I poured my inheritance into his "debt" and believed we were building a life together.
Today, I saw him on the news. My "struggling" husband, Jordan, is a billionaire heir, and our marriage was his five-year "Bootstrap Challenge."
His real fiancée, Isabell, stood beside him. When I got home, our five-year-old son, Leo, looked at me with cold eyes.
"You failed the test, Diana," he said flatly. "Daddy says you have a scarcity mindset."
Then came the final call from Jordan. Leo wasn't mine. He was his and Isabell's child, and I was just a "socialization caregiver." My accounts were frozen. I was left with nothing.
But they forgot about my father's last gift.
An old laptop with an unchangeable blockchain ledger app, holding the immutable record of every hour I worked and every dollar I gave them. They called me an asset. Now, I'm coming to collect. My Wife's Secret Baby Wasn't Mine
Romance I was New Orleans' Golden Boy. My architectural firm thrived, and I was married to the charming Izzy. We were expecting our first child, a dream come true. My mother, Eleanor, and Izzy were my biggest cheerleaders, always at my side.
Then, on the day of my biggest career presentation, they vanished. My calls went to voicemail. Rushing home, I found an anonymous video: my mother, Eleanor, marrying Richard Thorne-the man who ruined my father. Beside them, Marcus Thorne, his son, holding my pregnant wife, Izzy. "How will you explain whose child it is? After that sham ceremony with Ethan?" Izzy's voice, sweet as poison. My baby wasn't mine. My marriage, a fraud.
My dream crumbled. My name was dragged through the mud. While my firm collapsed, Izzy sobbed on TV, portraying me as unhinged. My bank accounts were frozen. Alone, broken, my father's cherished watch shattered by Marcus, every moment felt like a twisting knife. Even the media turned on me, calling me "the crazy one."
How could they? My own mother. My wife. The life I' d built, a meticulously crafted lie. I was cornered, stripped of everything, facing public humiliation. The betrayal was absolute, the pain, agonizing. Was this truly the end?
Just as darkness threatened, a lifeline emerged. A mysterious text from Ava Chen, a reclusive tech billionaire. Then, she appeared, like a force of nature, stepping into the clinic where I lay beaten and accused. "Mr. Ethan Moreau," she declared, silencing the room, "is the esteemed future partner of Ms. Ava Chen. We will be escorting him." My fight wasn't over. It had just begun. The Girl They Threw Away
Fantasy The noose bit my neck.
My mission, set by a mysterious 'System' to save my dying real-life self, was to win 'absolute devotion' from four men.
I'd failed.
Framed by Seraphina Bellweather, the 'heroine,' my ex-boyfriend, mentor, brother, and childhood friend had all publicly abandoned me, branding me a manipulating pariah.
Four years of hell followed, my attempts at escape through death repeatedly thwarted.
Then came the chilling truth: fail here, and my real body would die, fueling Seraphina' s power.
Imprisoned in her brutal 'wellness center,' her torturous 'treatments' slowly broke me.
My heart burned with injustice.
How could these men, once my world, so easily condemn me, blind to the manipulative monster orchestrating my downfall?
Was I doomed to perish, or could I reclaim my fate?
I refused to be her sacrifice.
When they visited, seeing me as 'unstable,' I seized my chance.
With a silent, deadly strike, I exposed Seraphina' s true nature and delivered a fatal blow.
As they grappled with their guilt and betrayal, begging me to stay, I took my final leap-claiming my freedom, and sealing their 'absolute devotion' in death. You might like
The Enforcer's Jilted Princess
Bone Possolo Tomorrow was my wedding day to Jason Brennan, the heir to a powerful Mafia family.
My family, the Falcones, had even taken in an orphaned girl, Elena, treating her like my own sister.
But in my nightmare of a past life, I choked on my own blood, poisoned by the arsenic Elena slipped into my food every day.
As I lay agonizingly close to death, Jason stood over me with a cold laugh, holding Elena in his arms.
"We just needed the Falcone wealth, Bella. And the docks."
Then came the gunfire. I was forced to watch them slaughter my father and my brother, tearing my family out by the roots.
After my death, Elena even spread vicious rumors that I was a barren spinster, twisting their foul betrayal into a tragic tale of noble sacrifice to completely destroy my legacy.
The metallic tang of my own blood was so real I could still taste the ash.
I didn't understand why the girl my family sheltered for eight years would repay our charity with such venom.
And I understood even less how the man who swore to love me could orchestrate my brutal murder without a shred of hesitation.
Bolting upright in bed, drenched in cold sweat, I realized I had returned to the night before my wedding.
This time, I wouldn't just cancel the engagement. I would hand their treason directly to the Mafia's most terrifying Enforcer, and watch them burn. Dying To Escape The Obsessive Mafia Don
Priority I spent three excruciating years building an underworld empire for Cassius, only for him to give the ultimate symbol of his protection to a fragile girl named Serena on the very day he proposed to me.
My biological brother Julian, my protector Enzo, and my ally Lucian all followed suit, prioritizing Serena's fake tears over my life.
They forced me into a lethal bone marrow extraction to save her. When I welcomed the agony—using it to trigger my system's extraction protocol, my only way home to the real world—they violently aborted the procedure. They accused me of twisted manipulation and locked me in a high-security medical prison. There, they handed my care over to Serena, who tortured me in secret, calibrating my pain to hover just below the medical alarms.
"You will live," she whispered, "so that you may watch them choose me—until the act itself becomes a prayer."
I didn't understand. Why was my physical agony never enough to make them stop, yet a single tear from Serena became their absolute law? Why wouldn't they just let me die so I could go home?
Then I saw my real brother Arthur, exhausted by my hospital bed, through the system feed—and I realized I couldn't die. Not yet.
I wiped all emotion from my face and calmly signed the papers for their live public reconciliation broadcast.
Before I leave this world for good, I will tear Serena's perfect facade to pieces. 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. 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. No Tears For My Cold Mafia Husband
Amigo On our first wedding anniversary, my husband walked out the door.
Not for business. For her.
I left the divorce papers on the table, my wedding ring next to his untouched champagne, and I disappeared into the night.
For a year, I watched Dominic Rossi—the ruthless Underboss of the New York syndicate—drop everything the moment his phone buzzed with another crisis from Sophia. A panic attack. A sleepless night. A lie. I was his wife, the woman he’d promised to cherish, but I was never his priority.
So I chose myself.
Now he’s tearing the city apart trying to find me. But I’m already gone—building a new life with a job that’s mine, an apartment that’s mine, and a name that doesn’t belong to him. The girl who waited in that penthouse is dead. The woman who walked out isn’t looking back.
When Dominic finally corners me, I see the cracks in his armor. He says he’s sorry. He says he loves me. He says he finally understands.
But some words are too late, and some promises can’t be fixed.
He made me guess for a year. Now it’s his turn to wonder if I’ll ever come back.
A heart-wrenching, standalone mafia romance about a woman who refused to be second choice, and the man who learned too late what he’d lost. She Died Once: Now The Mafia Kneels
Benjamen Ernst I was the Mafia Princess of the Wolfe family, engaged to Daniel Marino to unite our powerful syndicates.
But during a hit at a speakeasy, we were both gunned down.
As my chest was torn apart by a Tommy gun, I looked at my fiancé, expecting him to reach for me.
Instead, there was no despair in his eyes, only a twisted, selfish terror.
We both died on that floor, but the devil sent us back to the day of my hospital discharge.
Instead of finalizing our wedding, Daniel stormed into my father’s study.
"I won't marry Isabella. I want Celine."
He demanded to break our engagement, claiming he wouldn't be collateral damage in a Wolfe family war, and declared his true love for my sweet, orphaned adopted sister.
He thought shedding me would save his life, completely unaware that the assassination was orchestrated by his precious Celine.
In my past life, I didn't know she was a rat who sold our patrol routes to rivals and plotted my murder just to take my place.
If I hadn't died once, I would have believed her manufactured tears and comforted her.
But this time, I remembered everything.
I buried the vengeful woman I had become and let my face pale as I pushed open the heavy oak doors.
"Daniel? You... you want Celine?" I whispered, forcing a heartbroken tear to fall.
This time, I would play the fragile victim, just so I could orchestrate their absolute ruin. 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.
Betrayed By Blood, Claimed By The Don
Xiao Xiaosu I was born into a ruthless Mafia family, but while my twin sister Serena was treated like a golden princess, I was just the disposable pawn.
I secretly broke a decade-old Syndicate decryption record, proving I was a tactical mastermind.
But when the results came out, my parents and my childhood crush Luca completely ignored me.
They crowded around Serena to comfort her over her failing grade, and told me my flawless score was just a system glitch.
To fund Serena's initiation into the elite ranks, my mother stole my $38,000 hidden escape fund—blood money I had starved to save for eighteen years—just to buy her a gold bracelet.
When I confronted them, my brother dragged me across the floor, and they locked me in my bedroom.
"You are an ungrateful asset, and you should be honored to contribute to her success."
I had played the obedient, slow-witted soldier my whole life, giving up my food, safety, and dignity.
I couldn't understand why my own bloodline was so eager to bleed me dry just to manufacture Serena's fake perfection.
They thought I was trapped in that dark room, broken and waiting for their mercy.
Instead, I wiped my digital footprint, accepted a recruitment offer from the most lethal Mafia boss in New York, and climbed out the window.
This time, I chose to rule the shadows myself. The Capo's Surgeon
Gu Mumu I was five months pregnant and the top underground surgeon for the Chicago mafia.
On Christmas Eve, I was called in to perform an off-the-books C-section on a VIP patient.
But through the operating room glass, I saw my mafia boss husband, Julian.
He wasn't there for me. He was slamming his fists against the door, screaming in desperation for the bleeding mistress on my table.
"I swear on my life I will marry you, Lyla. Just hold on."
I delivered his illegitimate son while he completely ignored my existence, kissing her knuckles with a reverence I thought was mine alone.
The nightmare didn't end there. When I returned to our cold penthouse, I had my prenatal vitamins tested.
They were laced with black-market hormones designed to cause severe fetal deformities and force a late-term miscarriage.
Julian, the man who once took a bullet for me and swore a blood oath to protect me, had been secretly poisoning our unborn child.
His entire family had been covering up his four-year affair, praising the mistress while using me as a convenient shield.
How could the fiercely protective husband I loved be the very monster plotting to destroy me from the inside out?
The last shred of my affection for the Capo instantly turned to ash.
I calmly booked a discreet termination, drafted ironclad annulment papers, and walked out to build my own empire.
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