Too Late For Regret: The Mafia King's Runaway

One Night With The Wrong Brother

I thought I was waking up in the arms of Arthur, the man I loved. But as the morning light hit the Hamptons estate, the man buttoning his cuffs by the window turned around with eyes like chips of ice. It was Augustus Riddle, Arthur’s cruel younger brother, and I had just spent the night whispering confessions of love into the wrong man's ear. The night I thought was a beautiful beginning turned into a devastating nightmare. Instead of comfort, Gus treated me like a stain on his expensive carpet, scribbling a check for "services rendered" before shoving me into a dark service corridor to hide my existence from his brother. "How much does it cost to buy your silence?" He sneered, before leaving me barefoot in a torrential downpour while he drove away in a luxury Cadillac. Four years later, I am a struggling actress in Los Angeles, working double shifts as a barista just to keep the lights on. My life was finally stable until my roommate dragged me to a high-end dinner to meet her new "influential" boyfriend. The man sitting at the table, looking more arrogant and lethal than ever, was Augustus. He spent the entire night humiliating me, calling me a pathetic amateur and a social climber in front of my only friends. When I fled into the rain and collapsed on the sidewalk, skinning my knee until I bled, he watched from his car. He saw me clutching a plastic baggie containing the taped-together pieces of that four-year-old check—the only proof of my shame. He looked at me like roadkill, rolled up his window, and drove off into the dark. I couldn't understand why he was doing this. Why did he hate me enough to crush me, yet remember that I couldn't handle the smell of cigarette smoke? Why did he leave me bleeding in the street, only to send expensive medical supplies and coffee to my door the very next morning? "I'm moving out." I told my roommates, realizing that Gus Riddle didn't just want to destroy me; he wanted to haunt me. I grabbed my suitcase and walked out with eighty dollars to my name, finally ready to disappear into the city before he could burn the rest of my life to the ground.

Just A Placeholder: Dying For His Mistress

I stood on the tarmac clutching white magnolias, watching the man I loved hand his loyalty to the woman born to destroy me. Dante Cavallaro, the Ruthless Underboss, didn't just leave me for Sofia Moretti. He revealed that for two years, I wasn't his lover. I was a human shield. The heavy iron bangle he forced me to wear wasn't a gift for my protection. "It's a Malocchio anchor," he sneered as I lay paralyzed on the floor. "It drains the wearer's luck to keep Sofia healthy. You are just the filter." My body began to rot from the inside out, my nerves dying one by one. When I was finally on my deathbed, unable to move or speak, Dante didn't cry for me. He cried because his tool was broken. He forced the cursed bangle onto his own wrist, begging the universe to keep me alive so I could continue to suffer in Sofia's place. "Please," he sobbed into my sheets. "Don't leave me alone with the bad luck." I used my last breath to make a wish—not for him, but for my freedom. I closed my eyes and died. Exactly one hour later, Dante's phone rang. It was his father. "Sofia just collapsed," he said. "Her heart just stopped." I was the vessel. And now that I was gone, the poison had come home to the King.

Breaking The Cage: The Mafia Wife's Revenge

I was smoothing the red silk of my dress over a baby bump only I knew existed, preparing to tell my husband, the ruthless King of Chicago, that he was finally going to be a father. But before I could share the news, the ballroom fell silent. A woman walked in wearing a gold dress that was barely legal. It was Serena, the woman from the photos I had received just hours ago. She walked right up to us and handed Michael a silver tie clip. "You left this in the suite, Michael," she purred in front of the entire city's elite. When I demanded she leave, she smirked and threw her glass of red wine all over me. The liquid soaked into my dress, looking like a gunshot wound right over my womb. I waited for Michael to defend me. To throw her out. Instead, he looked at the crowd, terrified of a scandal. "Don't make a scene, Liv," he hissed, his eyes cold. "Go upstairs and change. I'll handle this." He turned his back on me and walked away with his mistress, leaving me dripping in crimson and humiliation. My mother found me sobbing in the bedroom and slapped me sober. "Tears are for the weak," she said. "Tonight, Michael Thorne loses everything." We froze his assets. We destroyed his reputation. But that wasn't enough. I wanted to break his soul. I looked down at my stomach. I would protect this child, but his father would never know he existed. "Tell him I lost the baby," I whispered to the butler, my voice trembling with rage. "Tell him the stress caused a miscarriage. Tell him he killed his heir." Tonight, the golden cage opens. And Michael Thorne is about to find out that even a canary has claws.

Escaping His Cage: The Phoenix Wife Returns

Two minutes before midnight on the eve of my wedding, my phone buzzed. I expected a sweet text from my groom, Liam. Instead, I received a photo of him with his lips inches from another woman's neck. The caption read: "He's celebrating his last night of freedom. Are you sure you want to be the jailer?" I didn't scream. I didn't cancel the wedding. I walked down the aisle the next morning and looked at his handsome face. I saw the scratch on his wrist—a souvenir from his mistress, Ava. Later, I overheard him tell his best man that I was just the "safe bet," a boring broodmare to provide an heir while he had fun with her. He thought I was a naive girl who believed in fairy tales. He thought he had secured his perfect life when I said, "I do." But he was wrong. When I discovered I was pregnant a few days later, I didn't celebrate. I realized this baby wasn't a blessing; it was a lock on my cage. Liam wanted a dynasty? He wanted a legacy? I looked at the positive test in my hand and made a cold, hard choice. I wasn't going to just leave him. I was going to destroy him. I wiped my tears, packed my documents, and prepared to burn his entire world to ash. The war had just begun.

When Love Became A Lie

The wedding dress, a Parisian dream, hung ready. My guardian, Daniel Hayes, the man stepping into the role of my husband in three weeks, surveyed me with possessive eyes. Everything was perfect, almost too perfect for the girl who lost her parents and world in a fire, only to be taken in by a generous "uncle." Then, his phone buzzed. A name popped up: "Sarah." And beneath it, a picture of a smiling woman and a small boy grinning at the camera, with a message: "Kev and I are waiting. Don't be late." My perfectly constructed world began to crack. He admitted it-Sarah was his fiancée ten years ago, before she left him. I was merely a "substitute," a convenient look-alike to fill the void she left. His affection, his care, our shared love-all a calculated lie. Then, an anonymous email confirmed my worst fears: he was still seeing her, even now, on the eve of our wedding. "You're a monster," I told him, tears streaming down my face. He just stared, unmoved, his voice like ice: "The wedding will go on as planned, Olivia. You will not embarrass me." He wanted me to be a dutiful wife, a pawn in his twisted game. The pre-wedding gala was a public humiliation. Sarah appeared, triumphant, with her son. Daniel, caught between us, didn't defend me. He paraded me before the woman he truly desired. It wasn't just betrayal; it was torture. And then came the ultimate blow: he hit me, in front of them, leading to the devastating loss of our unborn child. Lying in the hospital, my heart hollow, I let him believe his feigned remorse. He wanted to "make it right," to "send them away." He thought he still had me, the forgiving, wounded woman. But the girl who loved him had died in that studio, with our child. A new plan, cold and sharp, began to form in the hollow space where my heart used to be.

His Reckoning, Her Triumph

Six years. That' s how long it had been since Mark Johnson chose to walk away, leaving me to face my family' s ruin alone. Now he stood in my apartment, polished and powerful, fully expecting to find me broken and waiting for him. Instead, I was sprawled on a worn sofa, cradling my sleeping baby, Liam. Mark' s perfectly sculpted face twisted in disbelief, then disgust, as he laid eyes on my son. "Whose is that?" he spat, then, eyeing my faded clothes and humble home, added, "I mean, who' s the father? Have you no shame?" He offered to take me back as his mistress and "find a good family" for Liam, as if my child were dispensable cargo. Then he grabbed my arm, revealing an ugly, jagged scar on my forearm-a relic from the "halfway house" he' d sent me to. Chloe, my stepsister, ever the innocent puppet master, smoothly deflected his concern, painting me as a reckless delinquent. It worked. Any flicker of understanding in Mark' s eyes hardened into contempt. "You' ve become something ugly, Ava," he told me, letting go as if I were contaminating. I knew he wasn' t disappointed in himself, only in me for not suffering prettily. He lunged for my throat, then for Liam, snarling that my son's absence might "make me see reason." Just as despair choked me, the door crashed open. "Get your hands off of them." Jake Stone, my friend, my partner, my savior, stepped into the room, his presence a shield. He took Liam, comforting him before turning to Mark, his voice calm but lethal. "I'm the man who's here now," he stated. "And I'm telling you to get out." I stood beside Jake, tears drying, my voice clear. "You left me to rot for six years. Jake was the one who pulled me from the wreckage. He' s more of a man than you will ever be."

The Mafia Heiress's Comeback: She's More Than You Think

Sawyer, the world's top arms dealer, stunned everyone by falling for Maren—the worthless girl no one respected. People scoffed. Why chase a useless pretty face? But when powerful elites began gathering around her, jaws dropped. "She's not even married to him yet—already cashing in on his power?" they assumed. Curious eyes dug into Maren's past... only to find she was a scientific genius, a world-renowned medical expert, and heiress to a mafia empire. Later, Sawyer posted online. "My wife treats me like the enemy. Any advice?"

Secrets Of The Neglected Wife: When Her True Colors Shine

After hiding her true identity throughout her three-year marriage to Colton, Allison had committed wholeheartedly, only to find herself neglected and pushed toward divorce. Disheartened, she set out to rediscover her true self-a talented perfumer, the mastermind of a famous intelligence agency, and the heir to a secret hacker network. Realizing his mistakes, Colton expressed his regret. "I know I messed up. Please, give me another chance." Yet, Kellan, a once-disabled tycoon, stood up from his wheelchair, took Allison's hand, and scoffed dismissively, "You think she'll take you back? Dream on."

Beneath His Ugly Wife's Mask: Her Revenge Was Her Brilliance

Elliana, the unfavored "ugly duckling" of her family, was humiliated by her stepsister, Paige, who everyone admired. Paige, engaged to the CEO Cole, was the perfect woman-until Cole married Elliana on the day of the wedding. Shocked, everyone wondered why he chose the "ugly" woman. As they waited for her to be cast aside, Elliana stunned everyone by revealing her true identity: a miracle healer, financial mogul, appraisal prodigy, and AI genius. When her mistreatment became known, Cole revealed Elliana's stunning, makeup-free photo, sending shockwaves through the media. "My wife doesn't need anyone's approval."

Invisible To Her Bully

Unlike her twin brother, Jackson, Jessa struggled with her weight and very few friends. Jackson was an athlete and the epitome of popularity, while Jessa felt invisible. Noah was the quintessential "It" guy at school-charismatic, well-liked, and undeniably handsome. To make matters worse, he was Jackson's best friend and Jessa's biggest bully. During their senior year, Jessa decides it was time for her to gain some self-confidence, find her true beauty and not be the invisible twin. As Jessa transformed, she begins to catch the eye of everyone around her, especially Noah. Noah, initially blinded by his perception of Jessa as merely Jackson's sister, started to see her in a new light. How did she become the captivating woman invading his thoughts? When did she become the object of his fantasies? Join Jessa on her journey from being the class joke to a confident, desirable young woman, surprising even Noah as she reveals the incredible person she has always been inside.

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires. Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world. My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets. I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her. The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money. I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table. "Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead."

THE LYCAN KING'S TREASURED LUNA

Narine never expected to survive. Not after what was done to her body, mind, and soul. But fate had other plans. Rescued by Supreme Alpha Sargis, the kingdom's most feared ruler, she finds herself under the protection of a man she doesn't know... and a bond she doesn't understand. Sargis is no stranger to sacrifice. Ruthless, ambitious, and loyal to the sacred matebond, he's spent years searching for the soul fate promised him, never imagining she would come to him broken, on the brink of death, and afraid of her own shadow. He never meant to fall for her... but he does. Hard and fast. And he'll burn the world before letting anyone hurt her again. What begins in silence between two fractured souls slowly grows into something intimate and real. But healing is never linear. With the court whispering, the past clawing at their heels, and the future hanging by a thread, their bond is tested again and again. Because falling in love is one thing. Surviving it? That's a war of its own. Narine must decide, can she survive being loved by a man who burns like fire, when all she's ever known is how not to feel? Will she shrink for the sake of peace, or rise as Queen for the sake of his soul? For readers who believe even the most fractured souls can be whole again, and that true love doesn't save you. It stands beside you while you save yourself.