Xia Yingxi
17 Published Stories
Xia Yingxi's Books and Stories
I Switched Our Sons First
Mafia As my husband—the most feared Mafia Don in the city—lay dying, I stood by his bed playing the perfect, grieving wife.
But with his dying breath, he confessed a horrifying secret: twenty-six years ago, he secretly swapped our newborn infants in the hospital.
He told me he gave my flesh and blood to his mistress so her child could inherit the empire safely, while leaving his own legitimate son to rot in the slums.
Before I could even process the betrayal, his mistress and her thug son burst into the hospital suite.
"I grew up in the gutter while your fake son wore custom suits," the street rat spat, kicking the bedframe. "I want the penthouses and the millions in cash by tomorrow."
The mistress paraded around the room, gloating about how her bloodline would now rule the underworld.
Lorenzo signed the entire Syndicate over to the Underboss—the son he believed was hers—leaving me with nothing but a violent, greedy parasite.
They thought they had won. They thought I was just a discarded, empty shell, completely stripped of my power, my legacy, and my child.
But as I watched the ink dry on the will, I buried a cold, triumphant smile.
They didn't know one crucial detail.
Twenty-six years ago, I was awake when he made the swap. And in the dead of night, I had crept down to her room and switched the babies right back. Discarded By Him, Claimed By The Enemy
Modern I fought for the NorthCom mercenary team for five years, bleeding for them and treating them like family.
But during a brutal blizzard extraction, after I was gutted and exposed to a deadly neurotoxin to protect our flank, my commander, Jeffrey, called for a sudden vote.
He calmly asked the team who was in favor of leaving me behind.
One by one, the men and women whose lives I had just saved raised their hands.
Jeffrey looked down at me, his eyes completely devoid of emotion, and casually kicked my desperate hand away from his boot.
"This is for the good of the company, Etta. It's a calculated loss."
They stripped me of my weapons, tossed a plastic-wrapped first-aid kit into the snow, and flew away in their warm helicopter, leaving me to freeze to death.
As the ice seeped into my bones, the agonizing truth hit me. I was nothing but a disposable tool. A minor, pathetic footnote in Jeffrey's glorious corporate rise. I had sacrificed my life for people who viewed me as garbage the second I became a liability.
But the person who stepped out of the howling storm to save me wasn't a friend.
It was Kraig Crawford, the ruthless CEO of the rival syndicate and Jeffrey's deadliest enemy.
He pumped his own blood into my dying veins, his eyes burning with a dark, terrifying obsession.
"You're my war prize now."
I didn't know what this monster truly wanted with me, but as my heart started beating again, I made a promise to myself. I was done being a calculated loss. She Was Unwanted, Now She's Queen
Werewolf For three years, I swallowed a bitter pill daily, suppressing my royal white wolf bloodline for a normal life as the Alpha's Luna. That morning, my husband Santino coldly announced a crucial announcement, then entered our grand hall with another woman, declaring, "Alessia, she will be living here from now on."
She was pregnant, he announced, carrying our late Beta's child-yet her neck was unmarked. My scoff met his furious Alpha dominance, threatening my title, forcing my bow as he settled her into the suite next to ours.
Her sickening scent soon permeated my private study. Later, I found him intimately grooming her in the kitchen-a sacred act for mates-while he snarled mental insults, branding my jealousy pathetic.
Watching his hands violate our vows, a slow, cruel smirk pulled at my lips. My three-year marriage was officially over. I had already paused my royal trust fund's capital, then severed our mind link with a chilling declaration: "Don't touch me with the hands that just touched her." The Jilted Wife's Ruthless Wall Street Return
Modern For three years, Adriene Rodgers gave up her brilliant Wall Street career to be the perfect, devoted wife to billionaire Dallin Morales.
But one night, she overheard him talking to his lawyer, a confession that shattered her world.
"Adriene is exactly what I need her to be. A perfect social shield to keep the cameras busy so Elaina can live in peace."
Elaina was his late brother's widow. Dallin coldly admitted that touching his wife made him physically sick, and he only stomached it by closing his eyes and thinking of Elaina.
From that moment, the nightmare escalated. Elaina framed Adriene at every turn—slashing Adriene's beloved dog to death and throwing herself into a pool to play the victim. Dallin blindly believed the widow. He shoved Adriene so hard she cracked her head open on the marble deck, leaving her bleeding on the ground while he tenderly carried Elaina away.
The ultimate betrayal came when Adriene's father went into sudden cardiac failure. Desperate, she begged Dallin for the life-saving hospital funds.
Instead, Dallin ruthlessly froze every single one of her bank accounts.
"Go get on your knees and apologize to Elaina. Do that, and I will unfreeze your cards."
Standing in the freezing rain while Dallin's Rolls-Royce sped off to comfort Elaina's fake panic attack, Adriene's heart finally turned to ice. How could she have wasted three years of devotion on a man who would use her dying father as a bargaining chip for a manipulative parasite?
She didn't shed another tear. After borrowing money to save her father, she secretly signed the divorce papers and left them in a Hermès anniversary box on his desk. Then, she pulled out her old resume and sent it directly to his biggest corporate rivals. The submissive wife was dead, and it was time to burn his empire to the ground. The Reborn Heiress: Betting On Chaos
Modern I woke up gasping for air, my fingers clawing at a neck that was smooth instead of bruised. The air smelled of lavender and expensive starch, not the metallic tang of blood and the mold of the basement where I had just died.
A text flashed on my phone from Derrick, the man I thought was the love of my life: "Good morning, my angel. I can't wait to see you tonight." The heart emoji mocked me, a remnant of a girl who was once stupid, blind, and pathetically in love.
In my past life, I was the perfect, submissive fiancée. I didn't realize the "vitamins" Derrick gave me were actually a cocktail of drugs designed to keep me foggy and compliant while he and my own uncle dismantled my father’s company. I stood by him as my parents died in a "car accident" that I now know was a murder he orchestrated. By the time I realized I was married to the devil, he had already stripped me of my wealth, my family, and finally, my breath.
I stared at the gold-embossed calendar on the vanity: June 12, 2014. The day of our engagement party. The day I originally signed my life away to a monster who saw me as nothing more than a bank account to be drained.
I felt a cold, sharp rage replace the terror. I wasn't going to be the victim this time. I wasn't going to take his pills or wear the modest, pastel dress he chose to make me look like a saint.
"I need a match," I whispered to the most dangerous man in the city, Branch Brewer, as I gripped his tie in a hotel hallway. "I want to spend your money until Derrick chokes on it. I want to watch his empire crack."
Reborn on the morning of the gala, I’ve traded my white lace for black silk. The guest list is set, the press is waiting, and Derrick thinks he’s about to win it all. He has no idea that the "fragile" girl he murdered is back to burn his world to the ground. From Tortured Wife To Mafia Queen
Mafia I posted a photo of baby shoes to celebrate my pregnancy. Two hours later, my husband was holding jumper cables.
Kaeden, the Mafia Capo who swore to protect me, stood under the buzzing fluorescent lights of the basement.
He didn't look like the man who brought me vanilla lattes. He looked like a monster.
His "fragile" childhood friend, Clemmie, had convinced him that my innocent post was a signal to our enemies.
"Discipline," Kaeden muttered, refusing to look at my weeping face. "She needs to learn the cost of her voice."
He ordered low voltage—just enough to scare me.
But the moment he walked out the door, unable to watch, Clemmie smiled.
"He's not coming back for you," she whispered.
She cranked the dial all the way to the right.
She didn't just want to teach me a lesson. She wanted to stop my heart so she could harvest it for herself.
And my husband had already signed the release forms.
But they made one mistake. They left the cleanup to Alois, the family's most ruthless Enforcer.
He didn't bury me. He saved me.
Now, while Kaeden cries over a fake grave, consumed by guilt, I am watching from the shadows.
Daria Burris died in that chair.
The woman who survived is coming for blood. Three Years, One Cruel Lie
Modern For three years, my fiancé Jaxon kept me in a top Swiss clinic, helping me recover from the PTSD that shattered my life. When I was finally accepted into Juilliard, I booked a one-way ticket to New York, ready to surprise him and start our future.
But as I was signing my discharge papers, the receptionist handed me an official certificate of recovery. It was dated a full year ago.
She explained that my "medication" for the last twelve months had been nothing but vitamin supplements. I had been perfectly healthy, a prisoner held captive by forged medical reports and lies.
I flew home and went straight to his private club, only to overhear him laughing with his friends. He was married. He had been for the entire three years I was locked away.
"I've been handling Alina," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "A few tweaked reports, the right 'medication' to keep her foggy. It bought me the time I needed to secure my marriage to Krystal."
The man who swore to protect me, the man I worshipped, had orchestrated my imprisonment. My love story was just a footnote in his.
Later that night, his mother slid a check across the table. "Take this and disappear," she ordered.
Three years ago, I had thrown a similar check in her face, declaring my love wasn't for sale. This time, I picked it up.
"Alright," I said, my voice hollow. "I'll leave. After my father's death anniversary, Jaxon Francis will never find me again." Online Shame, Real-Life Victory
Modern The lines of code glowed, green and satisfying. It was almost 11 PM, and I, Sarah, a data analyst by trade and a numbers person by nature, was finally done for the day.
Then, a trending video popped up. My face, my building, and a headline: "Dedicated Employee or Work-Life Imbalance?"
My stomach clenched. Comments flooded in, a digital deluge of pity and objectification. "Wow, she looks so plain." "Probably single. A guy could just walk up to her and she'd probably be grateful."
It was disgusting. I felt watched, assessed, categorized by strangers. Unsafe.
My brothers were on their way, a familiar comfort. But then, he walked in. Chad. A self-proclaimed "Good Samaritan" challenge participant, selfie stick in hand, beaming that too-perfect smile.
He wanted me to be his content. I refused, but he ignored it, flicking my nose with a condescending playfulness. "A pretty girl like you shouldn't be frowning."
Rage exploded inside me. I stood, demandmg he leave. With a dramatic sigh, he walked away, still filming. My phone, my lifeline, flickered and died.
Just as relief washed over me, the glass doors slid open again. Chad was back. And he had a huge bouquet of roses.
A sickly-sweet smell. Dizziness. He was trying to drug me. I fought, screamed, and pepper-sprayed him.
But the sedative was working. I collapsed, only to see him standing there again when the elevator doors chimed open. He'd circled back.
Then the security guard, Tom, appeared. Chad, with chilling precision, recited my personal details, painting me as a dramatic girlfriend in a "lover's quarrel." Tom bought it.
The world went dark as I fell, not to the floor, but into Chad's arms. He whispered in my ear: "Your colleague Mark sends his regards. He didn't appreciate you reporting him to HR." His Last Regret, My New Life
Romance The grand hall of the Thompson estate. The scent of expensive flowers and a decade of my family' s fading name. Tonight, I, Sarah Miller, was the offering, a supposed "lucky charm" to merge our dying empire with the titans of the Thompson Corporation.
But the truth was, I was just a broodmare, chosen to birth their legacy, just like in my first life.
The memory wasn' t a dream; it was a brand etched into my soul. The cold concrete floor, the smell of dust and ozone. I was tied to a chair, my body weak from giving birth to my three children.
Across the room, David, the man I was forced to marry, stood over three small, still forms on a steel table. "The offerings are ready," a scientist said, his voice flat. "The biological processors will give the AI an unparalleled learning curve."
Biological processors. Offerings. No.
I screamed, a ragged sound. "David, no! Please, not our children!"
He grabbed my hair, back. "Our children? You manipulative witch! You tricked my mother into making me have these… abominations with you!" He gestured to a photo: Olivia Reed, "My Love." "You ruined everything! She was pregnant with my true heir! But you and your cursed luck forced my hand."
He forced a bitter liquid down my throat. My world went black.
And then, I woke up.
Back in the Thompson' s grand hall, the scent of flowers choking me. Mrs. Thompson held my hand. David stood beside her, his eyes holding the same cold hatred.
We were back. The day of our forced engagement.
Before the nightmare could begin again, I pulled my hand from Mrs. Thompson' s grasp. My voice small, unsteady, I said, "Mrs. Thompson… I can' t accept."
This time, he wanted Olivia. He believed her child was his key to power. I would hand him the shovel and watch him dig his own grave. His Secret Billionaire Game
Billionaires My name is Ethan Lester, and for five years, I' ve been living a lie. The world knows me as the "trophy husband" to Hollywood mogul Jocelyn Lind, a stay-at-home dad ridiculed, mocked, and paid millions for my public humiliation. What they don't know? My wife' s contemptuous family, who forced this contractual marriage, is unknowingly bleeding money to my secret FinTech company, Apex Innovations.
Then, the unthinkable happened. My children vanished from school.
The kidnappers demanded $100 million in untraceable crypto. Before the shock could even register, Jocelyn's own brothers called, feigning concern, only to demand she sign over her controlling media shares as "collateral" for the ransom. They were vultures, using the kidnapping of their own niece and nephew as a twisted power play.
I watched Jocelyn' s face crumble in despair, the full, sickening weight of their betrayal hitting her. My mind reeled. How could family be so monstrous? How could they weaponize our children for a corporate takeover?
But their greed unveiled a truth they never saw coming. With a single, chilling word, I refused their "help," and placed a call. They just made the gravest mistake of their lives. My Sacrifice, Her Deception
Romance For five grueling years, my concert pianist hands knew only the grease and steel of a West Texas oil rig. I sweated, burned, and broke every bone in my body, all to pay off a half-million-dollar debt my girlfriend, Gabby, claimed her failed startup had accrued. My sacrifice was for her, to save the woman I loved.
Finally, with the last payment in hand, I drove three hours to a Dallas steakhouse, anticipating our future. Instead, I walked into a private dining room and witnessed my entire world shatter.
Gabby, impossibly elegant, was laughing with her childhood friend, Wesley, the man who supposedly owned her debt. My foreman and the debt collector were there too, fawning over her.
I heard the foreman proudly declare I' d saved the half-million. Gabby, stroking Wesley' s hand, casually stated, "It' s fine. I' ll just sign another IOU for two million. Make sure he' s stuck on that rig for the rest of his life."
Wesley leaned in, kissing her cheek, "Perfect. I just saw a vintage Porsche for a cool half-million."
Ms. Fuller. Fuller Oil & Gas.
The rig I' d bled on was hers. The debt was a lie.
My sacrifice, a cruel game orchestrated to punish me for an abandonment that never happened-a narrative Wesley had twisted years ago after a caving accident, making her believe I' d left her for dead, even burning my musical future.
My blood ran cold. The air left my lungs. How could the woman I loved, the one I crippled myself for, orchestrate such a monstrous betrayal? This wasn't just about money; it was about destroying my life, my spirit.
But now, I had a choice. Reclaim my broken dream, or let this monstrous lie consume me. I turned to walk away, but then I stopped. I had one last, definitive move to make before I finally walked free. Your Stolen Dreams, My Rebuilt Empire
Romance I never thought I'd see David Miller again.
For seven years, I' d been the ghost of Ash Carter, the once-promising architecture student whose dreams he' d stolen, whose career he' d sabotaged.
Now, a single mom doing freelance drafting to pay the bills, I found myself in a children's museum, comforting my son Leo after a scraped knee.
Then, his voice.
Theatrically loud, cutting through the din.
David, impeccably suited, with a preppy assistant clinging to his arm.
He spotted me, his eyes lighting up with a sickening, triumphant gleam.
Before a crowd of strangers and his colleagues, he pulled out our old university portfolio, the very project he' d claimed as his own.
He draped himself in false sorrow, claiming he' d "never stopped thinking about what we had," implying Leo was his son.
He gestured at my comfortable but simple jeans, offering to "help me get back on my feet."
His colleagues watched, pitying him, scorning me as the woman who' d let a genius slip away.
My past, his crime, was put on public display, twisted into a narrative of my failure and his magnanimity.
A cold calm settled over me.
How could he be this brazen?
This utterly devoid of shame?
He truly believed I was still pining for him, still broken by his betrayal.
My heart ached for the injustice, for the years he' d condemned me to anonymity.
But then, I lifted my hand.
The art-deco sapphire ring glinted under the museum lights.
"And I'm married," I stated, my voice clear and firm.
His confidence wavered, but only for a second.
"Ridiculous! Who would marry you?" he sneered.
Just as his pitying gaze returned, a quiet voice cut through: "Is there a problem here, Ash?"
My husband, Michael Vance, stepped forward, and David' s world began to unravel. The Betrayer's Inheritance
Modern Scarlett Hayes, from a once-proud Southern family now teetering on ruin, arrived at the exclusive Kentucky Derby Charity Gala, hoping a connection with the influential Blackwood family could be her salvation.
Instead, she became the unwitting target of a cruel "auction" by the arrogant Blackwood sons, culminating in Charlie Blackwood Jr. publicly humiliating her by announcing his engagement to her stepsister, Brittany, revealing it was all a sadistic game to "put her in her place."
The ultimate betrayal came days later: drugged and waking up disoriented in a cheap motel, photos of her disheveled state instantly ruined her reputation, leaving her father shattered and her own future a devastating, inescapable void.
The crushing despair of her ruined life, filled with unanswered questions and profound betrayal, became an unbearable weight, dragging her into an abyss she couldn't escape, leaving her soul utterly broken.
Then, with a jolt, she woke up in her bed-it was the morning of the Kentucky Derby Gala again, a second chance born from the ashes of her humiliation, ready to wage a ruthless war against the dynasty that destroyed her. The Hidden Founder's Fury
Modern My daughter, Lily, just won the Grand Prize at the California State Youth Tech Challenge, securing a coveted spot at MIT’s summer program.
Pure joy lit up her face after years of dedication to her "Eco-Clean Bot."
But the applause died instantly as a woman, Jessica Hayes, announced her intention to buy the award for her son with a $500,000 donation.
The organizer, citing a "sponsor’s priority clause," surprisingly agreed.
Jessica and her smug son, Brandon, mocked Lily, sneering that her hard work was useless against their family’s money.
Then, the man I trusted, Mark Olsen, CEO of *my* company and Lily’s father, brazenly sided with them.
He publicly declared Jessica the "love of his life" and abandoned us, choosing his mistress over his daughter’s dream.
My heart shattered watching Lily’s face crumple, seeing her future stolen by this betrayal.
How could the man whose career I built, using my own money, so cruelly humiliate us both?
But as he sealed his fate, denying his own family, I knew this charade had served its purpose.
The time for the true power behind Nova Dynamics to step into the light, and exact a cold, precise vengeance, had arrived. 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.
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. The Abandoned Heiress Is A Secret Zillionaire
Zaccaria Linn Seventeen years after going missing, Brooklyn was finally brought back to her ultra-wealthy biological family.
But instead of a tearful reunion, her parents and sisters treated her like infectious garbage, mocking her cheap clothes and calling her a country bumpkin.
They dumped her into a remedial class to hide her away, cut off her allowance, and threatened to lock down her trust fund to force her into absolute submission.
One night, Brooklyn stood in the shadows of the estate and overheard a conversation that shattered everything.
She hadn't wandered off as a child.
Her parents had deliberately thrown her away because a fake fortune teller claimed her birth chart was a jinx to the family's wealth.
They felt zero remorse, only plotting to banish her again the moment she turned eighteen.
Her biological father thought he was putting a leash on a helpless, uneducated girl by cutting off her pocket change.
He had no idea that Brooklyn was the anonymous VIP who casually dropped sixty million dollars on an emerald at the city's most exclusive auction.
He didn't know she was the elusive medical genius that the world's most powerful billionaires were currently tearing the city apart to find.
The last microscopic shred of hope for a family withered into cold ash in her chest.
"Lock down my trust fund?"
She pulled out her encrypted phone and activated her shadow networks, severing herself entirely from their pathetic surveillance.
Since they believed she was a jinx, she was going to show them exactly what a real curse looked like. The Dons Forbidden Wife
Missese I was discarded the moment my husband gained power.
Divorced, Humiliated and left with nothing...while my mother lay dying.
Serena Black believed loyalty and sacrifice would be enough to secure her place beside Antonio Romano. Instead, she discovers she was only ever a stepping stone. He replaces her with a pregnant woman claiming to be the legendary Black family heiress and erases Serena from his life without mercy.
Broken and desperate, Serena's fall should have ended there.
Instead, it places her directly in the path of Dante Romano,the ruthless Don of the Romano Mafia empire, and the father of the man who destroyed her. Cold, powerful, and untouchable, Dante recognizes something no one else does: the scar on Serena's neck, and the truth it might hide.
A contract marriage binds them together.
Protection for obedience. Revenge for her name.
But as secrets surface and bloodlines are questioned, Serena realizes she may not be the powerless woman everyone believes her to be. And Dante finds himself risking his empire for a woman he was never meant to touch.
In a world ruled by violence and betrayal, one wrong choice could cost her life...
Or crown her the most dangerous queen the mafia has ever known.
Married to the Billionaire Mafia Don
Ebony Pete "You're leaving," Lorenzo said softly.
Ivy straightened her spine and raised her chin. "I am. I'm getting out of this place even if it means climbing over the front gates. I can't stay here anymore. I'm leaving!"
"You can't," Lorenzo said flatly. "Not now."
"Watch me," Ivy hissed, brushing past him.
Lorenzo stepped in her way and grabbed her by the arms-not roughly, but firmly.
"I mean it, Ivy. You can't leave," he said tightly.
She struggled against his grip, her bag falling to the floor with a thud.
"Let me go, Lorenzo! I don't belong here. This place is insane. Your family is insane!"
"You belong to me," he said sharply, eyes burning into hers. "And it's my job to protect what's mine."
"I don't want to be yours," Ivy cried. "I want to be free! I want to live!"
Something shifted in Lorenzo's face. He looked at her then, not as an obligation, not as a pawn, but as a person. A frightened, strong, beautiful woman who had been caught in a storm she never asked for. And something in him cracked.
Lorenzo reached down and cupped her face with both hands. Ivy flinched at first but didn't pull away. His thumbs wiped away the tears rolling down her cheeks.
"I never wanted to hurt you," he said quietly.
Her lower lip trembled. "Then let me go..."
"I can't," he whispered.
And then, without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her.
***************
Ivy Wesley believed that marrying a wealthy stranger would be her golden escape from a life of struggle. Lorenzo Martinelli was supposed to be her way out: her fresh start, her answer to every prayer whispered in the dark.
But the moment the mansion doors shut behind her, Ivy understood the truth. She hadn't stepped into a fairy tale. She had walked straight into the lion's den.
The whispers about the Martinelli family's ties to the Mafia aren't just rumors; they're real, and now Ivy is bound to them by a ring on her finger and secrets she can never unlearn. There is no undoing this choice. No clean exit. Not after what she's seen. Not after what she knows.
Surrounded by dangerous alliances, ruthless power plays, and truths sharp enough to draw blood, Ivy finds herself caught in a world where trust is a luxury and loyalty can be lethal. Yet in the middle of the chaos, something even more unexpected takes root: a love she never planned for, never prepared for, and may not survive.
Now Ivy faces an impossible choice: run while she still can, or stand her ground beside the man who could destroy her as easily as he protects her. In a world where betrayal lurks behind every polished smile and devotion can cost a life, can their love endure... or will it be the very thing that brings everything crashing down? An Illicit Obsession
Violet Heart "Tell me, my sweet Mila, do you want me to stop?"
"No!" I gasp.
"Good, because no matter what, no matter who walks in, I won't," He promised.
Killian Knight was many things, dangerous, a certified killer, devastatingly handsome, my father's business partner and married. He was not just off limits, he was forbidden, he was a sin and I was tempted enough to risk the hell fire.
He was everything that could ruin me and my body, my mind and my soul; everything was ready for it.
Mila Anderson's life takes an unexpected turn when she succumbs to the magnetic allure of her father's enigmatic and dangerous mafia associate. What she doesn't know is that Killian Knight has the power to unravel everything she's carefully built. One secret revealed could bring it all crashing down.
For Killian, one night with Mila changes everything. She's everything he desires, yet she comes with her own web of secrets-and he's determined to uncover every single one.
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