Peache

2 Published Stories

Peache's Books and Stories

The Monster's Nemesis

The Monster's Nemesis

5.0

"You only live, die and kill for your family." Lilliana Moretti was born and raised to be used against one of the most ruthless Crime Families of Chicago - the Romanos. Nothing could stop her to avenge the death of her mother and infant brother as she marked her prey - Dominic Romano. Well, Dominic didn't incur the reputation of a notorious playboy and a ruthless mafia for no reason. But Lilliana deliberately crossed paths with him, and when she was about the win the game, secrets of the buried past were unearthed and left her shattered. Does love stand a chance in the face an age-old feud? Come and witness the uphill battle between two crime families that unleashed chaos like never before. While the two people were out for each other's blood with bleeding hearts, little did they realize their love was more lethal than their hatred for each other.

The Monster's Protégé

The Monster's Protégé

5.0

I was barely a young girl when I was sent to him to be trained to be an assassin. Marco didn't just turn me into a ruthless killer; he made me a woman. I was his protégé. He was my Master - of my mind, body, and soul. But I wanted more. I wanted to be HIS WOMAN.

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Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

4.5

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.

Stripper's Love: I Married My Ex's Uncle

Stripper's Love: I Married My Ex's Uncle

4.2

I'm a moaning mess as Antonio slams into me from behind. His hips hit me hard, and each deep thrust sends shockwaves through my body. My breasts bounce with every movement, my eyes roll back, and I moan his name without control. The pleasure he gives me is overwhelming-I can't hold it in. I feel my walls tighten around his thick length. The pressure builds fast, and then- I explode around him, my orgasm tearing through me. He groans loud and deep as he releases inside me, his hot seed spilling into me in thick pulses. Just when I think he's done, his grip shifts. He turns me over and lays me flat on the bed. His dark eyes stare into mine for a moment, filled with raw hunger. I glance down- He's still hard. Before I can react, he grabs my wrists, pins me down, and pushes himself inside me again. He fills me completely. My hips rise on instinct, meeting his rhythm. Our bodies move together, locked in a wild, uncontrollable dance. "You're fucking sweet," he groans, his voice rough and breathless. "I can't get enough of you... not after that night, Sol," he growls, slamming into me harder. The force of his words and his thrusts make my body shake. "Come for me," he commands, his voice low and full of heat. And just like that, my body trembles. Waves of pleasure crash over me. I cry out, shaking with the force of my orgasm. "Mine," he growls again, louder this time. His voice is feral, wild, like a beast claiming what belongs to him. The sound sends a shiver down my spine. *** Solene was betrayed, humiliated, and erased by Rowan Brook, the man she once called husband, Solene is left with nothing but her name and a burning hunger for revenge. She turns to the one man powerful enough to destroy the Brooks family from within: Rowan's estranged and dangerous uncle, Antonio Rodriguez. He's ruthless. A playboy who never sleeps with the same woman twice. But when Solene walks into his world, he doesn't just break the rules, he creates new ones just for her. What begins as a calculated game quickly spirals into obsession, power plays, and secrets too deadly to stay buried. Because Solene isn't just anyone's ex... she's the woman they should've never underestimated. Can she survive the price of revenge? Or will her heart become the next casualty? And when the truth comes out, will Antonio still choose her... or destroy her?

Marrying The Rival: My Ex-Husband's Despair

Marrying The Rival: My Ex-Husband's Despair

5.0

I stood outside my husband's study, the perfect mafia wife, only to hear him mocking me as an "ice sculpture" while he entertained his mistress, Aria. But the betrayal went deeper than infidelity. A week later, my saddle snapped mid-jump, leaving me with a shattered leg. Lying in the hospital bed, I overheard the conversation that killed the last of my love. My husband, Alessandro, knew Aria had sabotaged my gear. He knew she could have killed me. Yet, he told his men to let it go. He called my near-death experience a "lesson" because I had bruised his mistress's ego. He humiliated me publicly, freezing my accounts to buy family heirlooms for her. He stood by while she threatened to leak our private tapes to the press. He destroyed my dignity to play the hero for a woman he thought was a helpless orphan. He had no idea she was a fraud. He didn't know I had installed micro-cameras throughout the estate while he was busy pampering her. He didn't know I had hours of footage showing his "innocent" Aria sleeping with his guards, his rivals, and even his staff, laughing about how easy he was to manipulate. At the annual charity gala, in front of the entire crime family, Alessandro demanded I apologize to her. I didn't beg. I didn't cry. I simply connected my drive to the main projector and pressed play.

The Waitress Is Actually The Mafia Queen

The Waitress Is Actually The Mafia Queen

4.5

I spent a year scrubbing floors in my fiancé’s club, hiding my identity as the daughter of the Capo dei Capi. I needed to know if Connor Bishop was a King worth merging empires with, or just a puppet. The answer came walking in wearing a neon pink dress. Jaden Juarez, a civilian he was infatuated with, didn't just treat me like a servant; she deliberately poured scalding espresso over my hand because I refused to be her valet. The pain was blinding, my skin blistering instantly. I video-called Connor, showing him the burn, expecting him to enforce the code of our world. Instead, seeing his investors watching, he panicked. He chose to sacrifice me to save face. "Get on your knees," he roared through the speaker. "Beg her pardon. Show her the respect she deserves." He wanted the daughter of the most dangerous man on the East Coast to kneel to his mistress. He thought he was showing strength. He didn't realize he was looking at a woman who could burn his entire world to ash with a single phone call. I didn't cry. I didn't beg. I simply hung up the phone and locked the kitchen doors. Then, I dialed the one number everyone in the underworld feared. "Dad," I said, my voice cold as steel. "Code Black. Bring the papers." "And send the wolves."

Left To Drown: The Heiress's Cold Departure

Left To Drown: The Heiress's Cold Departure

4.3

I was the fiancée of the Chicago Outfit’s heir, a bond sealed by blood and eighteen years of history. But when his mistress pushed me into the freezing pool at our engagement gala, Jax didn’t swim toward me. He swam past me. He scooped up the girl who pushed me, cradling her like fragile glass, while I struggled against the weight of my gown in the murky water. When I finally dragged myself out, shivering and humiliated before the entire underworld, Jax didn’t offer a hand. He offered a scowl. "You’re making a scene, Eliana. Go home." Later, when that same mistress shoved me down the stairs, shattering my knee and my dance career, Jax stepped over my broken body to comfort her. I overheard him telling his friends, "I’m just breaking her spirit. She needs to learn she’s property, not a partner. Once she’s desperate enough, she’ll be the perfect obedient wife." He thought I was a dog that would always return to its master. He thought he could starve me of affection until I begged for scraps. He was wrong. While he was busy playing protector to his mistress, I wasn't crying in my room. I was packing his ring into a cardboard box. I cancelled my transfer to UCLA and enrolled at NYU instead. By the time Jax realized his "property" was missing, I was already in New York, standing next to a man who looked at me like a queen, not a possession.

His Unwanted Wife Is Another Man's Treasure

His Unwanted Wife Is Another Man's Treasure

5.0

The exact moment Marcus Thorne, the most violent Capo on the East Coast, chose to leave our anniversary dinner to answer his mistress's call, I didn't cry. "Business," he rumbled, ignoring the untouched meal I had cooked. "Don't cause a scene, Ellie," he commanded before walking out the door. I later found out his "business" was a polo match with Izzy. She posted a photo of them laughing, her hand on his chest, wearing the shirt I bought him. When I tried to leave, he humiliated me publicly. He kissed her on stage at a gala, just to prove he could. He told his men I was merely acting out. "Ellie is the furniture," he laughed. "You don't throw away antique furniture just because you bought a new TV." But the final blow came when a bomb detonated at a family gathering. Marcus didn't look for me. He dove to cover Izzy with his body. He actually stepped over my bleeding leg to carry her to safety, leaving me in the dust and debris. He thought I was trapped. He thought I was dependent on his money and his name. He thought I would be waiting at home when he was done playing hero. He was wrong. I signed the divorce papers, destroyed my wedding ring, and boarded a one-way flight to Italy. Three months later, when he finally tracked me down in Tuscany, he fell to his knees in the street, begging me to come back. But I just held the hand of the man standing next to me—a man who treated me like a partner, not a prop. "You are trespassing," I said coldly. "Go home, Marcus."

Too Late To Apologize, Mr. Billionaire

Too Late To Apologize, Mr. Billionaire

5.0

For seven years, I scrubbed floors, cooked books, and hid my identity as the Vitiello heiress just to test if Dante Moretti loved me for me, not my father’s power. But the massive digital billboard in Times Square froze the blood in my veins. It wasn’t my face next to his under the headline "The King and his new Queen." It was a cocktail waitress named Lola. When I walked into the lobby to confront him, Lola slapped me across the face and crushed my late mother's locket under her stiletto heel. Dante didn't defend me. He didn't even look sorry. "You’re useful, like a stapler," he sneered, checking his watch. "But a King needs a Queen, not a boring clerk. You can stay on as my mistress if you want to keep your job." He thought I was a nobody. He thought he could use me to launder his money and then discard me like trash. He didn't realize that the only reason he wasn't in federal prison was because I was protecting him. I wiped the blood from my lip and pulled out a secure satellite phone. Dante laughed. "Who are you calling? Your mommy?" I stared him dead in the eyes as the line connected. "The pact is void, Papa," I whispered. "Burn them all." Ten minutes later, the glass doors shattered as my father’s military helicopters descended onto the street. Dante fell to his knees, realizing too late that he hadn't just lost a secretary. He had just declared war on the Capo dei Capi.

He Saved Her, I Lost Our Child

He Saved Her, I Lost Our Child

5.0

For three years, I kept a secret ledger of my husband's sins. A point system to decide exactly when I would leave Blake Santos, the ruthless Underboss of Chicago. I thought the final straw would be him forgetting our anniversary dinner to comfort his "childhood friend," Ariana. I was wrong. The real breaking point came when the restaurant ceiling collapsed. In that split second, Blake didn't look at me. He dove to his right, shielding Ariana with his body, leaving me to be crushed under a half-ton crystal chandelier. I woke up in a sterile hospital room with a shattered leg and a hollow womb. The doctor, trembling and pale, told me my eight-week-old fetus hadn't survived the trauma and blood loss. "We tried to get the O-negative reserves," he stammered, refusing to meet my eyes. "But Dr. Santos ordered us to hold them. He said Miss Whitfield might go into shock from her injuries." "What injuries?" I whispered. "A laceration on her finger," the doctor admitted. "And anxiety." He let our unborn child die to save the blood reserves for his mistress’s paper cut. Blake finally walked into my room hours later, smelling of Ariana’s perfume, expecting me to be the dutiful, silent wife who understood his "duty." Instead, I picked up my pen and wrote the final entry in my black leather book. *Minus five points. He killed our child.* *Total Score: Zero.* I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I just signed the divorce papers, called my extraction team, and vanished into the rain before he could turn around.

Too Late For Redemption: The Runaway Princess

Too Late For Redemption: The Runaway Princess

5.0

I held a silver lighter to the velvet curtains of my father’s study, threatening to burn down the Foley crime legacy just to marry the man I loved. My father, the Don, let me go. He told me I was dead to the family. I thought I was choosing freedom with Ignatz. Instead, I chose a cage. Three years later, while my family celebrated in their mansion, I was living in a moldy basement. Ignatz didn’t love me; he beat me. His mother kicked me in the stomach until I lost my baby on the cold concrete floor. While I bled out alone in the dark, my cousin's fiancée, Everleigh, visited just to laugh at me and fake her own pregnancy to secure the family fortune. I vanished, leaving behind only a diary and a hidden camera feed. When Kaleb, the family’s enforcer and the man who once promised to protect me, finally broke down my door, he didn't find a rebellious princess. He found the footage of me being dragged by my hair. He found the bloodstained mattress. The Don fell to his knees, weeping when he realized he had fed his daughter to wolves. They destroyed Ignatz. They sent Everleigh to prison. They offered me fifty million dollars and the keys to the kingdom to make it right. But when Kaleb stood on my porch, begging to fix me, I handed him a trash bag full of their money. "You can't fix a shattered glass, Kaleb. You just cut yourself trying to hold the pieces together."

The Unwanted Bride Becomes The City's Queen

The Unwanted Bride Becomes The City's Queen

5.0

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.