rabb
16 Published Stories
rabb's Books and Stories
Runaway Mistress: The Mafia Boss Begs On His Knees
Mafia The heavy steel door of the industrial meat locker slammed shut, sealing me in at four degrees below zero.
Ten minutes ago, I was the woman Dante Moretti promised to burn the world for.
Now, I was the rat accused of poisoning his heir.
Dante didn’t just lock me in. He looked at me with eyes devoid of warmth and said, "Evidence says otherwise."
He chose the lie of his arranged wife, Sofia, over my truth.
For months, I endured the price of loving the Underboss.
I watched him marry Sofia in a grand ceremony to secure a family alliance.
I let him force me onto a table to drain my blood to save her life when she was injured.
I took twenty lashes from his family’s enforcers, all while he stood by and watched, claiming it was necessary to "protect" me.
He told me to wait. He told me the marriage was a sham.
But when I finally escaped and he came chasing after me, revealing that Sofia was a fraud and he wanted me back, I didn't feel relief.
I felt nothing.
Even after he threw his body over mine to save me from a collapsing building, taking a jagged shard of timber through his chest, I couldn't forgive him.
In the hospital, his mother handed me his journal.
It was filled with entries about his undying love for me, written on the very same days he allowed me to be tortured.
"Tell him the debt is paid," I told his mother as I handed the book back.
"He saved my life. I saved his child. We are even."
I turned my back on the ICU and walked out into the rain.
Dante Moretti might have been willing to die for me, but he never knew how to live for me. Too Late To Beg: The Don's Regret
Mafia I was still bleeding into the mesh underwear the hospital gave me when the photos hit the internet: my husband, the Don, forcing his tongue down his mistress's throat.
Three days ago, that very mistress had shoved me off a yacht.
I lost the baby. I lost my uterus. I was left completely barren.
Yet, when my husband finally called, it wasn't to ask if I was alive.
"The press is eating us alive," Dante barked through the phone. "Send a gift basket to Sofia. Fix this mess."
To make matters worse, his grandmother stood at the foot of my bed, holding the hand of the daughter they had stolen from me at birth.
"Mommy looks like a ghost," my daughter said, her voice devoid of love.
That was the moment the last ember of affection died. I realized I wasn't a wife to them; I was just a broken vessel.
So, when they sneered that I was useless, I didn't cry.
I pulled a black USB drive from under my pillow and threw it on the bed.
"Divorce papers," I said calmly. "And the complete security blueprints of the Moretti Fortress. Every blind spot. Every tunnel I designed."
"Sign the papers and let me go, or I sell this drive to your enemies for one dollar."
I left the country with nothing but the clothes on my back, vanishing into a freezing attic in Paris.
I thought I was finally free.
But three weeks later, Dante kicked down my door, looking at my poverty with horror.
"Come home," he begged, tossing a box of diamonds onto my drafting table. "We can be a family."
I looked at the man who had destroyed me and opened the window.
"You're looking for the girl who loved you," I whispered, throwing the diamonds into the trash alley below.
"But you killed her." The Mafia King's Unwanted Wife Shines
Mafia My husband ordered me to turn around and face the altar. He unbuckled his heavy leather belt, his eyes cold and devoid of mercy.
"You need to learn respect," Dante spat.
He whipped me in the family chapel until my back was a bloody mess. All because his mistress, Sofia, had framed me for breaking his grandfather's urn.
He didn't ask for the truth. He didn't hesitate. He just wanted to punish the wife he considered a burden.
As the belt tore into my skin, I didn't scream. I just counted the memories dying.
He didn't know I was the one who dove into the frozen lake to save him in high school.
He didn't know I was the one who took a knife for him during the ambush.
He believed Sofia's lies that she was his savior.
I had loved him for ten years. I had bled for him. And in return, he scarred me permanently for a crime I didn't commit.
That night, I didn't tend to my wounds. I packed my bags, signed the divorce papers, and swore on the Code of Omertà to never love him again.
Three years later, Dante found my old diary hidden under the floorboards. He read the truth about who really saved him, and realized he had tortured his guardian angel.
He found me in Paris, fell to his knees in a crowded hotel lobby, and begged for forgiveness with tears in his eyes.
I looked at the man who broke me and smiled.
"Lie down and die, Dante," I said softly. "Because I have a life to live." His Apathy, Her Freedom's Dawn
Modern I thought my arranged marriage to the ruthless tycoon Axel Flynn was a love story when he risked his life to save mine.
But when his fragile childhood friend, Alicia, arrived, I saw the truth. He would panic if she got a paper cut, but he didn't bat an eye when I jumped out of planes.
With his blessing, she stole my company, my life' s work. At my own birthday party, he announced her as the new director.
When I screamed the truth, he had me drugged. He threw me into a dark isolation room in the basement for three days, with no food or water, because Alicia claimed I was "unstable."
He dragged me out, weak and broken, and demanded I get on my knees to apologize to the woman who had destroyed me.
I finally understood. His "love" was never love. It was apathy. He simply didn't care if I lived or died.
So, after he believed her final, vicious lie and left me for dead, I took the divorce papers he'd carelessly signed and walked away. This time, for good. Divorce Following Pregnancy
Modern In the third year of their marriage, Liam became infatuated with his new secretary, Lindsay Price.
She was open and bold. Her personal motto was "Fortune favors the bold."
In bed, she knew countless different positions, and outside of it, she accompanied Liam in various thrilling activities.
While he went out with Lindsay, he maintained the facade of a devoted husband by fabricating where he had been to Lillian Walsh.
"I'm not coming home tonight. I was drunk, so I'm sleeping at the office."
Lindsay chuckled beside him. She said with a hint of teasing provocation, "When are you going to divorce that boring old woman?"
The call ended abruptly.
Unbeknownst to them, Lillian was sitting in the Obstetrics and Gynecology department and staring at the pregnancy report at her fingertips. She had been pregnant for six weeks.
After she left the hospital, she called her brother, Ricky Walsh, who was a lawyer. "Ricky, I need you to make a divorce agreement for me."
Ricky paused briefly and then asked, "Are you sure about this?"
Lillian replied calmly, "Yes. I'm pregnant. I plan to keep the baby myself." After Amnesia, I Became Forever Out of His Reach
Romance After a week in a coma caused by a car accident, Grace Miller's boyfriend, Leonard Stone, suddenly regained his memory.
He remembered the girl he longed for but could never have.
So, the first thing Leonard did upon waking was to break up with Grace. "Anything that happened during my memory loss wasn't really my choice. From today, let's go our separate ways. Our relationship doesn't hold anymore."
Grace didn't try to hold him back.
Coincidentally, the new drug research in the lab had just succeeded, and Grace volunteered to participate in the trial.
"Once you take this pill, these memories will be permanently erased. Grace, are you sure about your decision?" I Became Someone Else's Luna
Werewolf I stayed with Ethan Hudson for seven years. He grew bored of me.
He found a younger werewolf girl in the clan.
I didn't plead for him to stay this time.
I discarded the mate-bond stone, burned the protection bracelet I crafted, and left the clan that night.
His friends ridiculed me, wagering how soon I'd beg for reconciliation.
Ethan, arm around his new girl, laughed and said, "Three days tops. She'll come back crying."
Three days passed, then another three, and I never returned.
Ethan couldn't wait any longer and contacted me first. "Sylvie, enough with the tantrum..."
Victor Wilson, his rival, cut in on the phone. "Ethan, you've got to move fast to win someone back. Too late, and a good girl's gone."
Ethan's howl nearly broke the receiver. "Get Sylvie on the phone!"
Victor kissed me softly and said, "She can't. She's worn out from last night and just fell asleep." From His Rejected Omega to the Alpha King's Queen
Werewolf My fated mate, Richard, and I were preparing for our sacred Mating Ceremony, a vow before the Moon Goddess meant to bind our souls for eternity.
But a psychic message slammed into my mind—a weaponized memory sent by his adopted sister, Eva. In it, she was wrapped in Richard's arms while his parents, the Alpha and Luna, beamed with approval.
For the next two weeks, I was forced to play the part of the adoring Omega bride. He would lie about "pack emergencies" to run to her, leaving me alone in a gown shop while she sent me visions of their trysts.
His parents stripped me of the project I had poured my soul into for two years, handing it to Eva as a gift. They called me a weak-blooded Omega, unworthy of their son.
Meanwhile, Eva sent me an audio clip of Richard promising her she would be the one to carry his strong heir, not me.
They all thought I was a pathetic, disposable pawn in their twisted game. They were waiting for me to break.
They had no idea I was secretly the heir to the most powerful pack on the continent. And I had already arranged for our Mating Ceremony to be broadcast globally, turning their sacred day into the stage for their ultimate humiliation. The Unshackled: A Hacker's Retribution
Modern On the night of her twenty-sixth birthday, Eliana Walker pushed her wheelchair through bar after bar, scouring every club in sight.
It wasn't until she received a call from the police station that her search for Lucien Lane came to an end.
"Is this Ms. Walker? Mr. Lane got drunk and started a fight. We need you to come down here."
After hanging up, Eliana rubbed warmth into her stiff fingers, unsure whether to feel relief or sorrow.
Before dawn, she finally reached the police station, just in time to see Lucien erupting in fury, "Who the hell told you to call her? Sure, she saved my life-but those useless crippled legs have shackled me for ten damn years! If she weren't Ethan's sister, I would've thrown a few million at her to be done with it long ago!"
Shards from the shattered bottle sprayed through the air, one slashing across Eliana's face.
Her face was slick with wetness-she couldn't tell if it was blood or tears.
With trembling hands, Eliana dialed a number.
She drew in a deep breath, her voice resolute, "Send out the message worldwide, the Anonymous hacker alliance will no longer offer any support to Lucien Lane's company. If any hackers want to test the strength of Lane Corporation's firewall, be my guest." His Regret, My Freedom
Romance The call came on a sunny Tuesday, a day promising peace, as I reviewed blueprints in my home office.
Then, my phone vibrated with his name: Ethan Carter, my husband.
"Chloe," he said, his voice cold and distant, "We need to get a divorce."
He wanted to give "her" legitimate status; he' d met someone.
I simply leaned back, my voice flat, "Okay. Then we should do that."
He hung up, without a proper goodbye, after arranging for his lawyer to draft the generous settlement papers.
My best friend, Maya, on the other hand, exploded, "That son of a bitch! After everything you' ve done for him!"
Her fury was a storm I couldn't feel, my own emotions a placid lake.
"He wants to give 'the other woman' legitimate status," I recited, the words foreign on my tongue.
Maya vowed to burn his suits and sue him for every penny, insisting I was in shock.
"It' s okay," I told her, a tired smile touching my lips. "I also had an affair."
A different kind of silence fell.
"And another thing," I added, looking at my perfect blueprints, "His affair? I arranged it." My Father's Daughter: Unstoppable
Fantasy The acrid smell of burning plastic filled my lungs, a scent that brought back chilling memories.
I was trapped, a massive server rack crushing my leg, as sparks flew and a hellish glow illuminated the terrified face of Tiffany, my boyfriend Liam's "friend."
This was it, the moment everything went wrong. Again.
Just like in my last life, Liam burst in, scanned the chaotic scene, and without hesitation, rushed to Tiffany, who was barely coughing, leaving me shattered and bleeding under the rack.
He looked back, his eyes cold, muttering that Tiffany's family were key investors, and saving her was "for the greater good." He dismissed my crushed leg, promising to come back, then turned his back and vanished with Tiffany, leaving me for dead in a room about to explode.
I stared at the man who had murdered me in my previous life, making the exact same choice, offering the exact same excuse.
But this time, I wouldn't beg. This time, I was alive, miraculously saved by my brave friend, Maya. And this time, I was done. Dead bodies don' t get a second chance at revenge-but I did. No Second Chances for Treachery
Modern I poured my life, my inheritance, and my soul into Redwood Creek Brewery. As a gesture of love and trust, I made Olivia, my fiancée of seven years, CEO, gifting her 51% of the shares. Or so I thought.
Then the news hit: Olivia was pregnant. With Mark' s baby. Mark, her college ex, who I'd just hired as COO. Suddenly, my fiancée was marrying my COO, and I was just the guy who made the beer.
They turned my office into a humiliating nursery. Olivia demoted me to Mark' s assistant. They gleefully watched as Mark 'accidentally' ruined a crucial hops contract I' d just secured. Olivia's condescending calls about me "keeping the money flowing for them" felt like a constant knife twist. They even used company funds-my company' s funds!-to buy my childhood home, only to trash it immediately.
Every humiliation, every snide remark, fueled a cold, silent rage within me. They thought I was shattered, easy to discard. They believed I was just the pathetic founder no one remembered, too weak to fight back.
But they had no idea. Absolutely no idea what was coming. For months, I' d held a secret: a notarized share transfer agreement, signed by Olivia herself, making me the 91% owner. They thought it was a formality for a phony loan. I called it their eviction notice. Next Monday, I walked in, not as the loyal Head Brewer, but as the indisputable owner. Their nightmare began. When The Dead Speak: Sarah's Journal
Fantasy I hovered, a restless spirit, above the opulent ballroom of the Fairmont Copley Plaza.
This grand wedding, shimmering with laughter and clinking champagne flutes, celebrated Ethan Astor and Olivia Miller.
It should have been my wedding to Ethan.
But I was dead, reduced to a convenient scandal weeks ago, my tragic "overdose" a footnote in their perfect lives.
Below, society whispered, calling me "difficult" and "ungrateful," while my adoptive parents, the Millers, who once tossed my few possessions like trash, warmly embraced their "true" daughter.
They believed Ethan' s carefully doctored photos and the lies that framed my fall from grace.
No one among these glittering guests knew about the Lupus eating me alive, the relentless pain, or the crushing exhaustion that ultimately consumed me.
They simply saw Sarah, the troubled heiress, a messy problem conveniently gone.
The injustice, the quiet suffering they willfully ignored, burned colder than my ghostly form.
Then, during what should have been Ethan' s charming speech, Olivia, the new bride, stood.
She held up a small, sleek USB drive, her eyes firm.
"I have something to share," she announced, her voice echoing.
"A final message. From Sarah."
My breath, if I had one, would have hitched.
My most private journal, my very words, were about to silence their celebration, with the police already waiting outside. The Thanksgiving Takedown
Modern My parents' murder left me an empty shell, and my fiancée's abandonment poured salt on the wound. I was drowning.
Then, at their funeral, a lifeline appeared: my ex-fiancée's sister, Detective Sarah Davis, publicly proposed, vowing to bring their killers to justice. I said yes, desperately clutching onto her promise.
Five years passed. The case grew cold. My world crumbled again when I overheard Sarah, my wife, deliberately stonewalling leads.
The killer? Michael Vance, my ex's new husband.
My blood ran cold as I heard Sarah pledge to do "anything to protect him," revealing a sickening loyalty that twisted my insides.
The truth hit me like a physical blow: my marriage was a calculated performance, every comforting word a lie. She wasn't just covering up; she was protecting my parents' killer, actively erasing me from their family's narrative. How could the woman I trusted betray me so utterly for the man who destroyed my life?
After she physically attacked me to shield Michael during a Thanksgiving blow-up – publicly choosing him over me – I knew what I had to do.
I systematically gathered irrefutable evidence of their conspiracy, faked my own death, and set the wheels of justice in motion from the shadows. Now, 'Ethan Miller' is dead, but the man he was lives to see justice served, on his own terms. 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. Burned by Poison, Saved by the Devil
Gale Kaaya My cousin Hailey paid a dock worker to assault me just to ruin my engagement.
To survive the military-grade aphrodisiac she poisoned me with, I stumbled into a walk-in freezer and threw myself onto the only source of cold I could find-a man paralyzed by unnatural hypothermia.
It was a desperate, primal exchange of my heat for his ice just to keep my heart from stopping.
But when Hailey threw open the heavy iron door, leading my fiancé and the entire Bolton family to witness my "shame," her triumphant grin instantly vanished.
She hadn't caught me with a low-life thug.
She had caught me straddling Demetrius Maddox, the ruthless Iron King of Chicago.
The air in the room dropped to absolute zero. My grandmother screamed in horror, and my father turned the color of ash.
Hailey, blinded by jealousy, tried to double down. She pointed a manicured finger at the deadliest man in the city and called him a "nameless muscle" I picked up to defile the family name.
She didn't realize she had just signed her own death warrant.
I didn't cower. I realized this was the only chance to survive the family that wanted me dead.
I walked up to the Devil himself, my body still humming with the poison, and looked him in the eye.
"Kill me, and the cold inside you wins," I whispered, knowing he was dying from the inverse of my own poison. "I am the only doctor who knows how to cure you."
Demetrius tightened his hand around my throat, his dark eyes assessing my worth.
"Prove it," he growled.
I turned back to my trembling cousin and signaled the enforcer to hand me the whip. 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." His Vow Broke, Her Empire Woke
Hei Baidong I was the perfect Mafia wife, my dowry the foundation of my husband's ambition. I paid for his Yale degree, his tailored suits, and the very mansion he called his own. My reward? He paraded his mistress into my bedroom and declared her his second wife, expecting me to silently finance their affair.
They thought they had broken a merchant's daughter. They forgot I was raised by wolves.
Armed with a blood chit—a life debt owed to my family by the most feared man in Chicago—I walked into the lion's den. I went to Damien 'The Wraith' Falcone, the Dark Don who rules the Outfit with an iron fist, to demand a simple annulment.
But the King of Chicago isn't interested in simple transactions. He saw the steel beneath my silk, the vendetta burning in my eyes. He granted me my freedom, but at a price: my allegiance. Now, I'm a pawn in his lethal game of thrones, caught between a treacherous husband I swore to destroy and a ruthless Don who looks at me with a terrifying, possessive hunger.
In a city built on loyalty and betrayal, I'm about to teach them all that a queen's wrath is the deadliest weapon of all. 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. Betrayed, I Married the Feared Cripple
Hu Minxue Three days after my fiancé publicly dumped me for my stepsister, the Supreme Don issued a command that silenced the entire estate.
I wasn't being cast aside. I was being sold to Damien Russo.
The "Broken Don." A crippled, scarred monster rumored to have murdered his last two wives.
My adoptive mother, Elena, didn't cry for me. She smirked.
To her, I was finally being disposed of.
She was so confident I was walking to my death that she decided to loot my corpse before I even left.
She forged documents to steal my entire inheritance—my biological mother’s trust fund—to pay for my stepsister’s lavish wedding to my ex.
"She won't need money where she's going," my stepsister laughed, wearing a dress bought with my stolen funds.
They thought they were sending a lamb to the slaughter.
They thought I was too weak, too stupid, and too afraid of the monster to fight back.
But they made a fatal mistake.
With my aunt’s help, I didn't just find the proof of their embezzlement; I found a weapon.
I’m not running from the monster. I’m going to marry him.
And when I hand him the evidence that the Herrera family stole from his bride, he won't be my executioner.
He will be my vengeance. 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." Too Late: The Don's Regretful Pursuit
Elisha Plasket I sat at the head of the mahogany table, the heavy heirloom emeralds around my neck marking me as the future Queen of the Cosa Nostra.
But the man beside me—Jax Viles, the most feared Don in New York—had his hand resting possessively on the thigh of the woman sitting to his right.
She wasn't his fiancée. I was.
The humiliation didn't stop at dinner. Jax moved her into my home, turned my dance studio into her closet, and when she pushed me down a flight of stairs, he stepped over my broken body to comfort her because she was "shaken up."
He started a bloody gang war just to defend her honor, yet ignored my desperate calls warning him of an ambush.
To him, I wasn't a partner. I was furniture—a fixture that was expected to be silent and useful. He would burn the world to ash for her, but for me, he wouldn't even skip a meeting.
So, while he was out celebrating his victory for her, I didn't wait for him to come home.
I left the engagement ring in the trash can next to the toilet.
On his desk, I left a single note: "I release you from the oath. I hope she's worth the war."
By the time he realized his mistake and came looking for his shadow, I was already gone, ready to become the Queen of my own life. 
/1/104515/coverorgin.jpg?v=12ce53e75361778a3218e6b93b0c659c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/105887/coverorgin.jpg?v=786b06bbad278b98d1a8a2ce80de6ea0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/104519/coverorgin.jpg?v=546324815e96a7b801a935eacd6589e0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/103892/coverorgin.jpg?v=4f92c2fad1ee9b6ef6d94b7aceaa9dba&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/99116/coverorgin.jpg?v=298faa513c0803f70fe768fd7dcd8e03&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/96217/coverorgin.jpg?v=aa8d0c8e6658a6947cd9673361a73f73&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/94003/coverorgin.jpg?v=cd8f5e068e26bb7f3acc719c91c4833d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/93977/coverorgin.jpg?v=fa741e7ac23631921bbd5af2fd150607&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/93295/coverorgin.jpg?v=c75e08312c0a8dafdf614df7b950bf0f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/92594/coverorgin.jpg?v=1fc92ab743efa32c9745fb88340b7d1b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/89961/coverorgin.jpg?v=99ffbad1cd4748db7c6052c08c9b5696&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85836/coverorgin.jpg?v=670bd2f4b27592f0af0a8ec93df7b310&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83806/coverorgin.jpg?v=7bb583058edf89c0adf69340774b7bbd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/82623/coverorgin.jpg?v=3550f285a39cef07c5bd84b1da77e145&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/82332/coverorgin.jpg?v=91dec06275e4d752f71776bf948b663a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/81947/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106195947&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/106756/coverorgin.jpg?v=2993ae90a66b7c82c22fce8075ae3fb4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/106734/coverorgin.jpg?v=c7ef0ae7a01b8941d249a96e5d9ca057&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/109835/coverorgin.jpg?v=b38472847e453f71545b2c32809d59f2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/110351/coverorgin.jpg?v=85f9d5eead0e33b7f6ce2040765a8972&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/107857/coverorgin.jpg?v=9a76200e0950002b43533d024a54a8ef&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/110543/coverorgin.jpg?v=ab7208b3df86eff70fb7110559887de0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/100248/coverorgin.jpg?v=b1dec4753a5c9ea677f050c0b517bc01&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/109994/coverorgin.jpg?v=6df60f632de2c9f91576883d95eb1bbe&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/104703/coverorgin.jpg?v=8043da784c3a05bbc8de63cf9d0b415f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/102846/coverorgin.jpg?v=5cd188e11a6cde96ce58df1be4ee7421&imageMogr2/format/webp)