Waldo Friesinger
14 Published Stories
Waldo Friesinger's Books and Stories
Reborn Heiress: Taming The Ruthless Tycoon
Mafia Gemma expected the tearing agony of the bullet wound that had just ended her life.
Instead, her trembling fingers met the cool, smooth friction of heavy silk.
She stared into the mirror. Her face was flawless, completely devoid of the jagged scar that had marred her cheek for the last five years.
It was exactly ten years ago. The day of her engagement party to the ruthless billionaire, Brion Hubbard.
In her past life, her "best friend" Katelyn convinced her to run away with a scheming scumbag.
Katelyn claimed Brion was a heartless tyrant who would ruin her. Gemma had foolishly believed those fake tears.
That choice led to her family's bankruptcy, her brutal disfigurement, and ultimately, a fatal bomb explosion.
The only person who tried to save her was Brion, his blood-soaked body shielding hers from the blast.
She even realized too late that the strawberry cream cakes she always made for him were full of dairy.
He wasn't leaving to cheat on her. He was locking himself in a medical bay, fighting fatal allergic shock, just to accept a tiny scrap of her affection.
Gemma had been so incredibly blind. Why did she trust the venomous snakes who destroyed her, while hating the man who died for her?
Hearing Katelyn frantically knocking on the dressing room door, urging her to run away again, a towering hatred surged through Gemma's veins.
This time, she wasn't going to run.
She was going to expose the traitors, take back her family's wealth, and claim the tyrant for herself. Too Late For Regret, Mr. Carlson
Billionaires I stood at the edge of the ballroom, a black blot on my husband’s perfect canvas. While Jensen Carlson stood under the crystal chandeliers as the master of his universe, the guests whispered that his "friend" Aubree was a much better match for him than I ever could be.
My stomach was twisting in sharp, jagged cramps from what I knew was acute appendicitis, but to the Carlson family, I wasn't a wife—I was a utility. My mother-in-law called me a "drill bit" and ordered me to drive Jensen home like a servant because his "optics" mattered more than my internal organs.
When I arrived, Jensen didn't ask why I was shaking; he just snapped that my black coat was "depressing" and told me to stop "fidgeting" with my medication. He spent the night whispering to Aubree, then came home and fed my divorce papers into a shredder, mocking me for thinking I could survive a week without the Carlson name. The next day, he humiliated me in front of my entire department, accusing me of flirting with staff just as I was about to collapse from the pain.
I had given up my PhD for this man and secretly written the code that built his billion-dollar empire, yet he viewed me as nothing more than a "depreciating asset." Even as I lay shivering on the hardwood floor because his mother locked the guest rooms to force me into his bed, he only sneered, asking if he was "that repulsive" when the pain made me vomit.
"If you're not in the car by seven, I'll cut off your grandfather's medical funding."
That was the final thread. I didn't go to the gala. Instead, I reclaimed my original patents, wiped my server access, and met him on the curb with a cardboard box and a resignation letter.
"I'm not your wife anymore, Jensen. And I'm not your employee."
As my Uber pulled away, leaving him clutching a revoked patent and a divorce petition, I realized I wasn't losing everything—I was finally starting to breathe. The Unwanted Fiancée Is A Legend
Mafia For three years, I played the role of the submissive, boring fiancée to pay off a blood debt.
My mother gave her kidney to save the Moretti Matriarch, and in return, I was promised to Dante, the heir. A life for a life.
I cleaned his estate and wore his ring while he treated me like furniture.
But my silence only bought me humiliation.
Dante didn't just cheat; he brought his mistress, Roxy, into our home for dinner.
He called me a "glorified housekeeper" on a recording and then broke our engagement via an Instagram post, tagging me to ensure the entire underworld saw my shame.
When I went to return the family crest, they wanted a show.
Roxy mocked me in front of Dante’s soldiers, snatched my mother’s antique jade pendant—the only thing I had left of her—and shattered it on the dirty club floor.
Dante laughed, thinking I was helpless.
They thought I was a hothouse flower who would faint at the smell of exhaust.
They didn't know the "boring" girl had a racing license hidden under the floorboards.
They didn't know I was "Ghost," the legendary underground racer they all bet on.
Roxy handed me a spectator ticket to the Death Race, telling me to watch how the big boys play.
I took the ticket, but I didn't go to the stands.
I walked to the starting line, put on my helmet, and decimated the track record.
When I took off that helmet in the winner's circle, Dante’s face went pale.
And when Lorenzo Falcone, the most dangerous man in the city, stepped out of the shadows to wipe the blood from my hand and claim me as his own, Dante realized the truth.
He hadn't just lost a fiancée.
He had signed his own death warrant. Mated To The Ruthless Blood Moon Alpha
Werewolf Today was my father's grand second wedding, but for me, it was the anniversary of my mother's death.
My new stepmother, Marley, who was only four years older than me, cornered me. To establish her dominance as the new Luna, she ordered her servants to force me to my knees and violently ripped my late mother's necklace from my neck.
It was the only memento my mother had left me. Marley sneered, threw it to the ground, and shattered the gems. When I scrambled to pick up the broken pieces, she dug her high-heeled shoe into the back of my hand, mocking me as dirty trash. No one stepped in to help. My father was too busy celebrating his new marriage under the dazzling lights, completely erasing my mother's memory and leaving me to be abused in my own pack.
My heart was full of grievance and despair. Why did my mother's lifelong devotion end with her grave desolate and her daughter humiliated? I swore I would never become a weak, discarded she-wolf whose life depended on a man.
Desperate to escape the suffocating wedding, I ran outside and stumbled right into the chest of a terrifying stranger.
"No one should ever touch what is precious to you."
His golden eyes blazed with fury as sparks instantly shot through my veins. He was Kade Blackwood, the ruthless Alpha of the feared Blood Moon Pack—and my fated mate. Too Late For Your Grand Remorse
Romance For nearly a decade, I was the perfect wife to Grant Sloan, sacrificing my own dreams to support his meteoric rise. But when I saw a photo of him at a company gala with his young intern, Kylee, his hand on her back and a smile I hadn't seen in years, I knew my marriage was over.
My world shattered further when my younger sister, Aubrie, was assaulted by her boss. I begged Grant, a top lawyer, to help her. He coldly refused, claiming his caseload was full, only to later stand in court as the defense attorney for my sister's attacker-who turned out to be Kylee's brother.
The betrayal was absolute. Fueled by Kylee's vicious online campaign, Aubrie was driven to suicide, jumping from the courthouse roof as Grant and I watched. The final, sickening blow came when Kylee desecrated Aubrie's grave, grinding her ashes into the dirt over a plot she wanted for her dead puppy.
Grant, finally seeing Kylee's monstrous nature, brutally punished her and her brother. He came back to me, broken and begging for forgiveness, even staging a grand public proposal.
He thought his remorse could erase the blood on his hands and the ashes on the ground.
I looked at the man who had destroyed my life and offered him a single word.
"No." The Wife They Sacrificed
Romance My life was perfect for ten years, filled with love from my husband, Mark, and our son, Liam, as I created beautiful jewelry. Then, a horrific car accident shattered everything, leaving Liam severely injured.
Doctors said Liam needed extensive skin grafts, recommending I, his mother, sacrifice my own skin to avoid scarring. Despite my sensitivity to pain medication, I endured excruciating procedures, my body becoming a patchwork of healing wounds, all for my son.
I overheard Liam and Mark: the "skin grafts" were a lie. My pain, my sacrifice, was for my twin sister, Scarlett, to fix a botched cosmetic surgery. My husband and sister had been having a decade-long affair, meticulously orchestrating a grand deceit.
My perfect life was a calculated cage of betrayal, the love I felt a one-way street ending in humiliation. The scars on my body burned with a different pain now, a mark of their monstrous deceit.
Rage, cold and pure, replaced my despair. I wouldn't just be heartbroken. I would burn their world to the ground. Her Ex's Lies, A Broken Love
Modern Dr. Evelyn Reed, one of the city' s most respected veterinarians, always put her animal patients first, a dedication that had earned her a quiet but fierce reputation.
But her professional world was about to shatter around the deathbed of her difficult client, Mr. Harrison, a wealthy man whose golden retriever, Champ, was her true patient.
In his final breaths, Mr. Harrison shockingly accused Evelyn of being his abandoned wife, claiming she' d taken his money and left him to die.
Her ex-boyfriend and supervisor, Dr. Mark Johnson, cruelly presented fabricated texts as "evidence," publicly humiliating her, while young interns, whom she' d mentored, turned on her, their faces filled with judgment.
The nightmare intensified as Mr. Harrison' s cousin, Brenda, and a disgruntled ex-employee, Todd, burst in, physically attacking Evelyn, destroying her phone, and further painting her as a monster, all while Mark stood by, then shoved her, demanding she kneel and apologize, cementing her isolation and despair.
How could a life built on integrity unravel so quickly and viciously, by the lies of a dying man and the betrayal of those closest to her?
With her career, reputation, and dignity in ashes, Evelyn, cornered and with nothing left to lose, knew she had to fight back. His Perfect Revenge, Her Final Escape
Billionaires After losing my family and fortune, I became Ethan Hayes's prisoner, trapped in his opulent mansion, relentlessly forced to repay a debt I didn't truly owe.
My only value to him was my kidney, a perfect match for his ailing sister, Chloe, the one he held above all else.
Ethan controlled every aspect of my existence, subjecting me to relentless humiliation.
Yet, in a cruel twist of fate, I found myself pregnant with his child—a child he believed he could never father.
I swallowed a bitter cocktail of abortion pills, vowing that this child would never serve as another pawn in his twisted game of revenge.
At Chloe's lavish birthday gala, Ethan didn't just publicly broadcast a humiliating video of my most vulnerable past; he later stood by as Chloe cruelly orchestrated the death of Buddy, my beloved Golden Retriever, my last shred of solace.
Their combined malice shattered me, pushing me to an unbearable breaking point.
How could I endure such pervasive evil, constantly reminded of a debt that wasn't solely mine, subjected to such calculated torture and public disgrace?
My despair transformed into a burning, unyielding resolve to defy him one final time.
I secretly held one devastating card: a severe anesthesia allergy, a fact conveniently absent from his records.
On that sterile operating table, as he prepared to claim my kidney, I would not just die; I would ensure his hard-won victory, his twisted revenge, and his very definition of control crumbled to ash in his hands.
My death would be my ultimate act of rebellion, unraveling his carefully constructed lies and finally granting me release. The Chef Who Refused to Break
Modern Sarah Miller was the golden child of the Culinary Institute of America Prime, her perfect knife cuts and innovative dishes earning her an easy path to culinary stardom.
Then, out of nowhere, Brittany, the clumsy, struggling student, presented a dish that was not just extraordinary, but impossibly perfect, far beyond her capabilities.
My own critically acclaimed duck was overshadowed, then my skills mysteriously vanished, causing me to fumble even the simplest techniques. Dean Antoine, my mentor, publicly accused me of fraud, expelling me from the prestigious CIAP in front of baffled critics.
I was left broken, my career ruined, cleaning grease traps in a rundown diner, while Brittany became a national sensation. How could her sudden genius be so flawless, so familiar, borrowing my very ideas before I could even develop them? Was I going crazy, or was this calculated?
Then I remembered the tiny, almost invisible blinking device Brittany wore. A cold realization hit me: her "genius" wasn't her own; it was stolen. Whatever it was, it was also actively draining me. They wanted me gone, but they had awakened something far more dangerous: a chef who understood true skill wasn't about flashy tricks, it was about rock-solid fundamentals, and I would master every single one to expose the truth and reclaim my name. The Golden Boy's Fall
Young Adult Summer Hayes, a quiet scholarship kid, poured her heart and savings into a magical promposal for her secret crush, Kingston Academy's golden boy, Ethan Prescott. He was the only one who saw her, even defending her once, making her believe he was different.
But just as she waited, her phone buzzed. Her glitchy "ghost channel" app, a live stream of the elite, showed her decorated gazebo. The chat exploded with cruel comments, then Ethan' s best friend outlined the "plan": Ethan's identical twin, Caleb, would pretend to accept, then publicly humiliate her, all while Ethan watched for sport.
Her carefully crafted dream shattered. The boy she admired was a predator, turning her vulnerability into perverse entertainment. As Caleb arrived, feigning surprise, the depth of Ethan's betrayal burned, searing cold.
How could someone so seemingly kind be so utterly cruel? The initial shock dissolved into a chilling, furious resolve. They wanted a show? They' d get one, but not the one they planned.
As Caleb approached, Summer took a shaky breath, tears stinging. "Oh, Ethan," she began, correcting herself with a tearful sigh. "I mean, Caleb. This looks like it' s for Ethan, but it' s not. It' s for you." The game was on, and Summer was ready to play to win. Strike Three, You're Out
Modern My six-year-old son, Danny, was vibrant and healthy, until my estranged wife, Sarah, demanded he donate his liver to her ex-lover, a washed-up football star.
As a paramedic, I knew the devastating risks, but Sarah, blinded by her obsession with this "hero" figure, forced the surgery through.
Soon after, in the pediatric ICU, Danny hemorrhaged and urgently needed blood - O-negative, Sarah's blood type.
But Sarah was at the "hero's" lavish "welcome home" party, celebrating, utterly dismissing my frantic calls as "drama."
My son died that day, his tiny hand growing cold in mine, while his mother reveled in the reflected glory of a man she idolized.
Then came the crushing truth: Sarah had pushed the surgeons for a riskier, expedited procedure, declaring Ace Henderson's life the absolute priority.
Still, the final, unforgivable horror was yet to come.
At Danny' s treasured Little League field, where I went to scatter his ashes, Sarah and Ace showed up for a live PR stunt.
Ace' s nephew, egged on by them, snatched Danny' s baseball urn, spilled his ashes onto the pitcher' s mound, and then stomped on them, gleefully shouting, "Strike three, you' re out!"
I was held back, screaming, watching my son's last remains obliterated by the very people he died for, by a mother's monstrous indifference.
How could such calculated cruelty be unleashed upon a child's memory, by those who should have protected him?
A part of my soul died on that dusty field, leaving only a vast, echoing void.
I vanished, abandoning my old life, certain peace was forever beyond my grasp.
But a discovery, a fragile legacy left by Danny, might just offer a path through the darkness. Ten Scars: A Billionaire's Cruelty
Billionaires For nine years, my life was a gilded cage, controlled by Wall Street titan Mark.
My photography dreams withered under his shadow, and ten forced abortions left me a hollow shell, each ending with his manipulative charm or self-pitying tears.
The latest procedure, just yesterday, left me weak, but I still had to pick him up.
I found him at the awards dinner, his arm around Jessica, his intern.
Then he kissed her, publicly, and announced her pregnancy.
“Sarah, darling,” he slurred, “Jessica’s pregnant.
And who better to mentor her than you? You’re practically an expert, aren’t you?”
The humiliation burned.
He mocked my pain, then tore my dress, doused me in champagne, and snarled about his iron-clad cohabitation agreement.
Rescued by my childhood best friend, Alex, I ended up in the hospital, my fertility gone.
Mark then falsely accused me of sabotaging his company with Alex, slapped me, and forced me to sign a chilling "consent form," threatening Alex's ruin.
Soon, I was drugged and barely clothed, shivering in a glass enclosure.
It was a depraved auction, with men bidding on me.
Mark’s taunts echoed: "Alex couldn't be bothered."
Was I truly abandoned?
My heart sank, consumed by despair.
How could this be my life?
Just as all hope seemed lost, a calm voice cut through the noise: "I bid all of it."
It was Mr. Harrison, Alex’s trusted lawyer.
A sudden, unbelievable turning point.
My rescue had begun. The Fiancee Who Came Back From the Dead
Romance I was Elara Vance, a Juilliard violinist living my dream, with a scholarship and the loving support of my charming boyfriend, Julian Thorne.
When he urgently needed my O-negative blood after a supposed sailing accident, I rushed to give it, only to find him perfectly healthy days later, laughing with friends, my half-empty blood bag casually discarded.
My "loving Julian" was a monster, boasting about his "masterpieces of revenge" – a cold, cruel game he orchestrated for his jealous friend Seraphina.
He'd sabotaged my career, fed me sugar pills after a staged pool accident, framed me for shoplifting, and even publicly humiliated me while declaring his love for another woman.
Then, I overheard his final plan: to set fire to my guesthouse during our "romantic getaway", trapping me in his apartment like a prisoner.
His every affectionate word, every grand gesture, was a lie designed to break me, turning my love into a searing humiliation and soul-deep betrayal.
But I wouldn't be his victim.
I fabricated my own fiery demise and escaped to London, reinventing myself as "Nightingale," a celebrated violinist.
When Julian, consumed by a disturbing obsession, dragged me back to New York, announcing our forced marriage, I knew the lavish wedding would be the perfect stage for my ultimate counterattack. Taming My Unruly Sister
Modern The night after the SAT ended, my sister sent me a wish list.
"iPhone for 10,000 yuan, tablet for 5,000 yuan, computer for 8,000 yuan, clothes for 3,000 yuan, cosmetics for 2,000 yuan... totaling 50,000 yuan." I am just a working person with a monthly salary of 3,000 yuan, and my parents are both laborers. How can I come up with so much money for her all at once?
Our family scraped together and could only give her 20,000 yuan. But she not only didn't appreciate it, but also threatened to jump off a building.
My parents and I had no choice but to borrow money from everywhere, working multiple jobs a day to repay the debts.
When my parents died in a car accident due to overwork, my sister and her boyfriend were still indulging in luxury at a five-star hotel.
I also succumbed to the overwhelming pressure and depression and ended up committing suicide.
After being reborn, I personally sent her to work at a corrupt factory, and she became obedient. 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. The Underboss's Wife, Now His Queen
Hydro Therapy 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. 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." Stripper's Love: I Married My Ex's Uncle
G~Aden 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?
The Comatose Wife's Billionaire Family Comeback
William Jafferson I was trapped in a locked-in state for six months, fully conscious but unable to move a single muscle.
My step-family, Delma and Jazmyne, marched into my hospital room, forged a Do Not Resuscitate order, and yanked out my oxygen tube just to stop paying my medical bills.
When my three-year-old daughter, Amari, leaped out from under the bed to protect me, they beat her mercilessly.
They kicked my tiny girl in the stomach, smashed a heavy metal IV pole into her fragile shoulder, and dragged her out by her ankles.
They even tied her to a tree in their backyard and let a massive Rottweiler tear into her flesh, laughing as they recorded her agonizing screams.
I lay in that hospital bed, hearing every blow and every desperate cry.
I didn't understand why they had to torture an innocent toddler just because they thought I was a worthless piece of trash with amnesia.
A tidal wave of absolute fury crashed against the invisible walls of my paralyzed body, burning away the despair.
Gritting my teeth until my jaw popped, I forced my dead weight off the mattress and dragged my atrophied legs across the freezing floor to a landline.
With trembling, bloody fingers, I punched in a twelve-digit military-grade encrypted code.
It was time for my real family—the most powerful men in the country—to make these monsters pay. He Signed Away His Own Wife
Cornelia #Chapter1 Chapter
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. 
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