Olivia
7 Published Stories
Olivia's Books and Stories
Rebirth of the Mafia Mistress
Mafia My fiancé Jaret Frazier promised to protect me on my nineteenth birthday. By the next year, he had married a Mafia Princess for power and locked me in a hidden apartment as his secret mistress.
When his new wife discovered I was pregnant, she didn't file for divorce. She sent her enforcers to my bedside.
They held me down while a back-alley butcher tore my unborn son from my womb.
Jaret never came to save me. For ten years, I rotted in that gilded cage, watching him use my money to become an Underboss while I faded into a ghost. I died alone, completely erased.
Then, I opened my eyes.
I was back in my own bed, unscarred, the calendar turned back to the year my life was destroyed.
Jaret was still just my fiancé, not yet my jailer.
And this time, I wouldn't be the one who ended up in a cage. Annulled Love, Mafia's Fall: She Bulldozed All
Mafia On my wedding night, I made a vow to Liam Gallo, the most feared man in New York. "If you ever betray me," I whispered, "I will vanish from your life as if I never existed." He laughed, thinking it was a romantic promise. It was an oath.
Three years later, I discovered his betrayal. It wasn't just an affair; it was a public humiliation. His mistress, Ava, sent me photos of herself in my places, wearing jewelry he'd given me, taunting me with her presence in my life. And Liam let her.
The final blow came at our Hamptons estate. I saw them together, Liam and a triumphant, pregnant Ava, in front of his inner circle. He was choosing her, his pregnant mistress, over his injured wife, demanding I apologize for upsetting her.
In my own home, I was an obstacle. In my own marriage, I was a prop. The love I clung to for years finally died.
Ava's texts confirmed it all, including a picture of an ultrasound captioned "Our baby," and another of her wearing the necklace he named "Maya's Dawn."
So, on the morning after our anniversary party, I enacted my plan. I liquidated my assets, bulldozed the garden he planted for me, and served him divorce papers. Then, with a new identity, I walked out of the service exit and disappeared into the city, leaving the man who broke his vows to the wreckage of the life he destroyed. Rejected By The Alpha: The Hidden Luna's Revenge
Werewolf For five years, I hid my identity as a legendary White Wolf, swallowing suppressants that tasted like ash just to protect Alpha Grafton.
I played the role of the spineless "Shadow," enduring his pack's ridicule and his cold indifference, all to fulfill a promise I made to his dead twin brother.
But when I finally exposed my powers to save Grafton from a rigged car crash, shattering my leg with liquid silver in the process, he didn't thank me.
Instead, he stepped over my bleeding body to comfort Cherrelle, a socialite who was faking a wrist injury.
He believed her lies over my sacrifice.
When I tried to warn him about the poison in his drink, he forced me to swallow the Wolfsbane myself.
He watched me convulse on the floor, calling me a "drama queen."
He even threw me into a dog kennel, crushing the only photo I had of his brother—the man I actually loved—under his boot.
He thought I was a stalker obsessed with him.
He didn't know I drank black coffee I hated every morning just to be in sync with him, or that the "jealousy" he saw was actually grief for the ghost of his twin.
Broken and done, I stood on the edge of Blackwood Bridge and sent him one final text.
"I'm going to be with the man I actually love."
Then, I rejected him as my mate, severed the bond that linked our souls, and let the dark river wash away five years of lies. After His Engagement, I Deleted Ten Years of Secret Love
Modern For ten years, I lived in my guardian Ethan Hayes's home, loving him in secret. He was the sun I revolved around.
Then, he announced his engagement, introducing the woman he loved as my future female guardian, and spent an entire year showing me I meant nothing to him.
The night he came home drunk, he pulled me into his arms, murmuring another woman's name as his lips crashed down on mine.
The next morning, his eyes filled with disgust as he accused me of climbing into his bed.
"I never thought you would stoop this low," he said.
His fiancée cornered me, calling me shameless and threatening to throw me onto the street.
In that moment, a decade of devotion turned to ash. The love carved into my bones was finally scraped away.
On the day of his birthday, I packed one small suitcase and walked out of the house that had been my prison. I left a final drawing on his desk with a simple note: "Goodbye, Ethan." My Husband's Sins, My Heart's Revenge
Modern My marriage was perfect. I was pregnant with our first child, and my husband, Andre, worshipped the ground I walked on. Or so I thought.
The dream shattered when he whispered another woman's name against my skin in the dark. It was Kaliyah, the young associate from my firm whom I had personally mentored.
He swore it was a mistake, but his lies spiraled as Kaliyah's schemes grew more vicious. He drugged me, locked me in my studio, and caused a fall that sent me to the hospital.
But his ultimate betrayal came after Kaliyah staged a fake car accident and blamed me.
Andre dragged me out of my car by my hair and slapped me across the face. He then forced a nurse to take my blood for his mistress-a transfusion she didn't even need.
He held me down as I began to hemorrhage, leaving me to die while he rushed to her side. He sacrificed our child, who now suffers from irreversible brain damage because of his choice.
The man I loved was gone, replaced by a monster who left me for dead.
Lying in that hospital bed, I made two calls. The first was to my lawyer.
"Activate the infidelity clause in our prenup. I want him left with nothing."
The second was to Jude Gates, the man who had loved me silently for ten years.
"Jude," I said, my voice cold as ice. "I need your help to destroy my husband." Unmasking the Viper
Modern My life as a Dallas socialite seemed perfect, dwelling in a grand mansion built with old money and maintained by new.
Then, my husband, Ryan Lester, walked through the door with a woman I' d never seen, Sabrina Chavez, announcing she was "staying with us for a while."
Her feigned innocence turned sinister as she systematically drugged me, leading to a horrifying assault that was meticulously filmed.
Ryan then used that video as his weapon, turning my home into a prison, stripping me of everything, and publicly humiliating me at my father' s charity ball by projecting the assault on giant screens for everyone to see.
The world shattered as I collapsed, suffering a devastating miscarriage, left to wonder how my life could be so cruelly dismantled, and who was behind this orchestrated nightmare.
But just as despair threatened to consume me, a familiar face from my past, Andrew Scott, stepped into the light, and with him, the promise of truth and a fight for my lost life. Not Vanished: A Mother's Return
Fantasy I was Ava, a revered River Guardian, brimming with vibrant life.
I found Marcus, a broken Stone Breaker, and poured my essence into saving him.
I healed his wounds and shared my lineage's lore, empowering him to become the Apex he yearned to be.
He swore eternal love.
But my selfless devotion was repaid with chilling betrayal by his new partner, Chloe.
They conspired, stripping me of influence and then, brutally, my life.
I didn' t vanish; I died, murdered by their ambition.
My Heart Spring dissolved, merging with my infant son Liam' s life current to save him.
For ten agonizing years, I remained a helpless spirit, haunting my preserved body and watching Liam suffer.
Gaunt and scarred, he bore Marcus's cruelty.
Now Marcus, the cruel Apex, returned, demanding my Heart Spring for Chloe' s child.
He taunted Liam, then bound him to a pyre, lighting the Breaker' s Fire.
He aimed to force me, a spectral memory, to reveal myself or watch our son burn.
How could the man I empowered, the father of our son, be capable of such chilling depravity?
He sought to burn away the last vestige of my existence.
But as unnatural flames licked Liam' s feet, a transformation began.
His muted life current exploded into a radiant emerald glow.
The true power of the Grove Heart I passed to him shimmered.
Liam, no longer a wilting fern, but a powerful sapling, rose from the pyre unharmed.
He stood ready to unveil all hidden truths and challenge the Apex who thought he had triumphed. 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.
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. 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. To Ruin Him, I Married His Rival
Rabbit Andrew Hebert, the man who promised to protect me, stood on a stage and announced his engagement to my tormentor. It wasn't just heartbreak; it was a business deal. He was selling me to a creditor to cover his gambling debts.
The applause of the powerful families was a death sentence, each clap sealing my fate as collateral. Andrew had paraded me here just to show everyone I was an asset to be liquidated, while his new fiancée smirked at me from the stage.
I was trapped, with no money and no one to turn to. The man I loved was leading me to the slaughter.
But as I fled into the library, a voice emerged from the shadows, deep and dangerous.
Damien Maddox. The Dark Don. The only man Andrew feared.
He offered me a different kind of cage, one with the power to burn Andrew's world to the ground.
With nothing left to lose, I looked the devil in the eyes.
"Take me with you." When Love Rebuilds From Frozen Hearts
Landslide On the night of my career-defining art exhibition, I stood completely alone. My husband, Dante Sovrano, the most feared man in Chicago, had promised he wouldn’t miss it for the world. Instead, he was on the evening news.
He was shielding another woman—his ruthless business partner—from a downpour, letting his own thousand-dollar suit get soaked just to protect her. The headline flashed below them, calling their new alliance a "power move" that would reshape the city.
The guests at my gallery immediately began to whisper. Their pitying looks turned my greatest triumph into a public spectacle of humiliation. Then his text arrived, a cold, final confirmation of my place in his life: “Something came up. Isabella needed me. You understand. Business.”
For four years, I had been his possession. A quiet, artistic wife kept in a gilded cage on the top floor of his skyscraper. I poured all my loneliness and heartbreak onto my canvases, but he never truly saw my art. He never truly saw me. He just saw another one of his assets.
My heart didn't break that night. It turned to ice. He hadn't just neglected me; he had erased me.
So the next morning, I walked into his office and handed him a stack of gallery contracts.
He barely glanced up, annoyed at the interruption to his empire-building. He snatched the pen and signed on the line I’d marked.
He didn’t know the page tucked directly underneath was our divorce decree.
He had just signed away his wife like she was nothing more than an invoice for art supplies. Mistaken Identity: Loving The Wrong Twin Sister
Tabbie Platt I replaced my twin sister in a marriage contract to the ruthless Mafia Don, Donovan Blackwood.
For three years, I was a ghost in his home, silently enduring his coldness while he flaunted his mistress, Chloe.
On the very last day of our contract, Chloe staged an accident.
Donovan didn't hesitate.
He forced me to drain my blood to save her life.
Then, to prove his loyalty to her, he drove me to the cliffs and pushed me into the freezing ocean.
He even locked me in a cellar infested with spiders—my deepest phobia—because she lied and said I threatened her.
He thought he was punishing the spoiled, arrogant Isabella.
He didn't know he was breaking Ava, the woman who had silently memorized his allergies and waited up for him in the dark every single night.
When I finally took my fifty million dollars and vanished, I left behind nothing but the divorce papers and a photo revealing the truth.
He tore the city apart, destroying my family to find me, only to realize he had tortured the wrong woman.
Now, he is standing on my porch in the pouring rain, staring in horror at the simple wooden ring on my finger given to me by another man.
He falls to his knees, begging for a chance to love the wife he tried to destroy.
I look at him, feeling absolutely nothing.
"It's too late, Donovan," I say, locking the door. "You killed her." Married To My Mysterious Ex-Con Husband
Flying Free My father bailed a violent ex-con out of prison just to force me into a marriage with him. I stood in a filthy Bronx hallway, my Vera Wang gown dragging through the grime, knowing this was the price for my mother’s life. If I didn't marry the man behind the steel door, the wire transfer for her hospital ventilator wouldn't go through the next morning.
The man, a scarred giant named Dock, treated me with cold contempt, telling me he didn't touch things he didn't want—and he didn't want a "Jacobson." I thought I had hit rock bottom, tied to a criminal while my family lived in luxury. But the nightmare was just beginning.
When I tried to return my wedding dress to pay for rent, my sister Janie and stepmother found me. They laughed as security dragged me out of the boutique, calling me a "charity case." When I finally crawled back to our family manor to beg for the money my father had promised, Janie revealed the horrific truth. She had liquidated my mother’s medical trust to fund a waterfront real estate project.
"Get out and let your mother rot," she screamed, throwing a glass of ice water in my face before having guards dump me in the dirt. I knelt on the gravel, wet and bleeding, realizing my own flesh and blood had signed my mother's death warrant for a profit. I had nothing left—no money, no home, and a husband who was supposed to be a monster.
I didn't understand why they hated me so much, or how I would survive the night. But then, a black car screeched to a halt in front of me. Dock pulled me inside, his eyes burning with a lethal coldness I’d never seen in a common thug.
As he wiped the blood from my hands, he picked up a encrypted phone and gave a single command.
"Initiate Project Titan. I want the Jacobson Group insolvent by Friday."
I looked at the man I thought was a broke felon, realizing I hadn't just married a stranger—I had married the most dangerous man in the city, and he was about to burn my family's world to the ground. Too Late For Regret: The Mafia King's Runaway
Tangye Wanzi I watched my husband, the most feared Capo in New York, sign away our marriage with the same cold indifference he usually reserved for ordering a hit.
The nib of his Montblanc pen scratched against the paper, drowning out the rain hitting the coffee shop window.
He didn't bother to read a single word.
He thought he was signing routine shipping manifests for the family business.
In reality, he was signing the "Dissolution of Union" papers I had hidden beneath the cover sheet.
He was too distracted to check. His eyes were glued to his encrypted phone, frantically texting Sofia—the widow, the tragic beauty, the woman who had haunted our marriage for three years.
"Done," he grunted, tossing the stack into his armored SUV without even glancing at me.
"Business is concluded, Elena. We leave."
Moments later, his phone rang with her special emergency tone.
His demeanor shifted from cold boss to frantic protector instantly.
"Driver, divert. She needs me," he roared.
He looked at me with zero affection and ordered, "Get out, Elena. Luca will take you home."
He kicked me out of the car into the pouring rain to rush to his mistress, completely unaware he had just legally granted me my freedom.
I stood on the curb, shivering but smiling for the first time in years.
By the time the Don realizes he just signed his own divorce, I will be a ghost in San Francisco.
And he will have nothing left but his shipping logs and his regret. 
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