Roldan Mccartney

For five years, I lived a beautiful lie. I was Aliana Hughes, the cherished wife of the city's most feared Mafia Capo and the beloved daughter of the Don. I believed my arranged marriage had blossomed into love. On my birthday, my husband promised me the amusement park. Instead, I found him there with his other family, celebrating the fifth birthday of the son I never knew he had. I overheard their plan. My husband called me a "naive fool," a placeholder to legitimize his secret son. The ultimate betrayal wasn't his affair, but the sight of my own father's car parked across the street. My family wasn't just aware; they were the architects of my ruin. Back home, I found the proof: a secret photo album of my husband's other family posing with my parents, and records showing my father had bankrolled the entire deception. They had even drugged me on weekends so he could play happy family. The grief didn't break me. It turned into something cold and sharp. I was a ghost in a life that was never mine, and a ghost has nothing to lose. I copied every damning file onto a USB drive. As they celebrated their perfect day, I sent a courier with my parting gift: a recording of their treachery. While their world burned, I walked toward the airport, ready to erase myself and start over.

I’m the sister of a pack Gamma, but in the Nightshade Pack, status is everything. My brother Silas keeps warning me to stay away from the Blackwood family, especially the Alpha, Ryker. But I couldn't help it—I’m in love with Cole, the Alpha’s younger brother. I thought our love was a secret sanctuary, a fated bond that defied the pack’s rigid hierarchy. Today, I decided to surprise him at the Packhouse, hoping to be the light in his stressful life as he prepared for the Alpha’s upcoming mate selection ceremony. I snuck into the West Wing, only to find myself in a room that radiated pure, suffocating power. I didn't know I was in Ryker’s private office. When I touched a silver-framed photo of his parents, the door burst open. Ryker didn't just see a trespasser; he saw a violation. His Alpha Command hit me like a physical blow, forcing me to drop the frame. It shattered against the stone hearth, and with it, my entire world. The rage in his eyes was absolute, a cold, terrifying fury that left me trembling on the floor. His future Luna, Mira, stood by, mocking my pathetic state as I scrambled to escape, my hand sliced open by the jagged glass. Why was he so cruel? And why did the scent of my own love, Cole, seem to make them look at me with even more disdain? I couldn't go back to the life I knew. As I sat sobbing on the stairs, abandoned by the man I loved and broken by his brother, I realized I had been completely blind to the darkness of the Blackwood name. I didn't care about the pack rules anymore. I looked at my bleeding hand and made a silent vow: I would uncover the secret behind why the Alpha hated me so much, even if it destroyed the very foundation of the pack.

After we made love, my husband Ethan always did the same thing: he'd pull out papers for me to sign, saying it was just business. I trusted him completely, signing without reading, believing he was handling the boring paperwork so I could focus on my tech company. Then, one night, I heard him on the phone with his childhood friend, Sarah Jenkins. "It' s done, Sarah. I got the last signature." They were draining my accounts, framing me for fraud, and planning to leave me bankrupt and facing prison. My world shattered. This wasn' t just about money; they had meticulously planned this revenge for five years, fueled by a petty college misunderstanding. Every kiss, every "I love you" had been a calculated lie. The man I married was a monster. The betrayal deepened when I discovered I was pregnant. Before I could process the news, Ethan, knowing how my absence for doctor' s appointments would raise questions, took me to the hospital, ostensibly for confirmation. But on the way, he sped up, deliberately causing a car crash that made me lose our baby. Temporarily blinded by the impact and drowning in grief, I was coerced into signing away everything, believing they were insurance forms. It wasn't an accident. I overheard him tell Sarah, "The accident worked perfectly… No more baby to complicate things." He murdered our child. How could the man I loved, the father of my child, be such a cold, calculating killer? How could I have been so blind, so trusting? My love had been his weapon, and his every act, a betrayal beyond imagination. But they had underestimated me. I was Chloe Miller, CEO. And I wasn' t just a broken woman; I was a woman scorned, ready for war.

The Preston family mansion was cold, even in summer, a stark reminder that despite being their long-lost son, I was an intruder. My adoptive brother Liam, the golden child, introduced me to the opulent life with a sneer, constant humiliation, and a cruel challenge: a series of contests to prove my worth, threatening to send me back to the gutter if I lost. My biological parents, more concerned with appearances, stood by, silently endorsing my torment as I faced certain defeat, their indifference a deeper cut than Liam' s malice. The ultimate blow came when my college girlfriend Chloe, my rock and only comfort, revealed her true colors: she was using me as a pawn to manipulate Liam, arranging for me to be discarded and married off to a dying heiress. Heartbroken and empty, with nothing left to lose, I made a choice so desperate, so reckless, yet utterly mine: I would take Liam' s place at the altar, stepping into a world of unknown dangers, but finally, on my own terms.

My life as a gig-economy delivery driver was tough, but I always kept my head down. On Valentine' s Day, a late condom delivery for Room 12 at a sleazy motel spiraled into instant blackmail. Kevin and Tiffany, the couple, scammed me out of my day' s pay and hit me with a one-star review that cratered my job rating. Just as I thought it couldn't get worse, they escalated. They claimed Tiffany was pregnant because I was supposedly late, demanding $20,000. When I refused, they fabricated an assault, accused me of causing a miscarriage, and launched a vicious online smear campaign. They doxxed me, ruined my reputation, and got me fired; I was days from homelessness. But the ultimate blow came from the person who mattered most. My foster mother, Sarah, the kindest soul I knew, used her life savings-money she' d been meticulously saving for decades to find her long-lost son-to pay them off, just to make them stop hounding me. I couldn't believe it. Her entire hope, her deepest dream, sacrificed for me because of their elaborate lies. How could anyone be so utterly cruel, so shamelessly manipulative? And watching Tiffany flaunt new "engagement" bling, clearly funded by Sarah's stolen hope, made my stomach churn. No more. They took my job, my home, and then her dream. It wasn't about surviving anymore. It was about making them pay. Every last cent. And for everything else. I'm coming for them.

A heavy rain washes away the buried male corpse in the cornfield. The murderer is quickly caught. Only I notice something's off— someone is missing. Ten years later, the people from the past reunite, and rotting oranges are hard to emit a fragrance. The regrets of ten years ago, this time, I will personally deliver judgment.

I didn't mean to call my boss. I definitely didn't mean to leave a seven-minute voicemail of dirty secrets about him. Working for Ruslan Oryolov is the job from hell. The man is impossible-demanding, arrogant, and way too gorgeous for his own good. After eighteen months of fetching his coffee and swallowing my pride, all I wanted was one night of stress relief. But the billionaire CEO of Bane Corporation isn't just a boss from hell. He's the head of the Oryolov Bratva-and now that he's heard every secret I never meant to share, he's decided to claim me. His contract. His rules. His protection for my three orphaned nieces and nephews-the only reason I'm signing my life away to a man I should fear. He owns my signature. He owns my safety. Now he wants my soul.

I was three days away from marrying the Underboss of the Fazio crime family when I unlocked his burner phone. The screen glowed toxic bright in the dark next to my sleeping fiancé. A message from a contact saved as 'Little Trouble' read: "She is just a statue, Dante. Come back to bed." Attached was a photo of a woman lying in the sheets of his private office, wearing his shirt. My heart didn't break; it simply stopped. For eight years, I believed Dante was the hero who pulled me from a burning opera house. I played the perfect, loyal Mafia Princess for him. But heroes don't give their mistresses rare pink diamonds while giving their fiancées cubic zirconia replicas. He didn't just cheat. He humiliated me. He defended his mistress over his own soldiers in public. He even abandoned me on the side of the road on my birthday because she faked a pregnancy emergency. He thought I was weak. He thought I would accept the fake ring and the disrespect because I was just a political pawn. He was wrong. I didn't cry. Tears are for women who have options. I had a strategy. I walked into the bathroom and dialed a number I hadn't dared to call in a decade. "Speak," a voice like gravel growled on the other end. Lorenzo Moretti. The Capo of the rival family. The man my father called the Devil. "The wedding is off," I whispered, staring at my reflection. "I want an alliance with you, Enzo. And I want the Fazio family burned to the ground."

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.

I hid my identity as the heiress of a top-tier wealthy family just to build a normal, quiet life with my fiancé, Jefferey. We had just picked out our dream villa, but a sudden bank notification shattered my illusion. The entire $7.8 million from our joint trust fund had been wired to a woman named Jessie Barr. When I hacked into his synced tablet, the truth hit me like a truck. Jessie wasn't just a stranger; she was his secret lover. They even had a four-year-old son who shared Jefferey's exact eyes. "The money is in your account. Our future is secure now. I'll leave her soon." Reading his messages to her, I realized my three years of devotion were nothing but a long con. I was just the final "project" he needed to fund his real family. He used my resources, my connections, and my money to build a life in the shadows with his true love, treating me like a naive piggy bank he could discard at any moment. I had given up my absolute power for a man who fed me nothing but lies. But Jefferey forgot one crucial detail. I wasn't just some helpless woman he could ruin. I calmly closed my laptop and dialed a number I hadn't called in three years. "Mom, I was wrong. I'm ready to accept the Romero family's marriage alliance." It was time to gut his company and take everything he owned.

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.

"They say the dead don't come back. But I did. And I brought hell with me." Aria Moretti was supposed to die seven years ago when her entire mafia family was slaughtered in a brutal massacre. Instead, she escaped pregnant, alone, and marked for death. She fled to Lagos, gave birth in hiding, and spent seven years transforming from a sheltered princess into something far more dangerous. Now she's back in New York. Not for forgiveness. For blood. But her return puts her on a tight spot with Dante Russo the man she once loved and was forced to betray. He's no longer the loyal soldier from her father's organization. He's built himself into a billionaire empire while secretly ruling the city's underworld. Powerful. Ruthless. Unforgettable. And he's never forgiven her for disappearing. When Dante discovers Aria is alive, he should kill her for the betrayal he thinks she committed. Instead, he makes her an offer she can't refuse: Marry me. Six months. No questions asked. He needs a wife to legitimize his business expansion. She needs his protection to hunt her family's killer. It's purely transactional. A marriage of convenience. Nothing more. As they're forced into close contact, old attraction reignites into something explosive. Assassination attempts bring them together. Shared danger builds unexpected trust. And co-parenting the son Dante is just getting to know creates moments of tenderness neither expected. But as Aria gets closer to discovering who ordered the massacre, the lies holding their marriage together begin to crumble. A traitor is in Dante's organization. A jealous ex-lover plots to destroy their alliance. And Vincent Carozza Aria's godfather and the man she suspects killed her family is closing in for the final strike.

For our third wedding anniversary, I wore the thin floral dress my husband demanded and made his favorite traditional broth. I just wanted to be the perfect Mafia wife. But halfway up a freezing mountain, he played a voice message from his secretary. "Leave her on the roadside. Take her phone and coat. Let's see if she crawls back begging on her knees." To my absolute horror, my husband actually pulled over, dragged me out into the dirt, and drove away. He left me at nine degrees below zero. When I nearly died in the snow instead of begging, he launched a vicious smear campaign. He claimed I abandoned him to sleep with the groundskeeper who saved my life. He filed for a Syndicate divorce, demanding my dowry back and threatening to crush my father's business if I didn't surrender. While I scrubbed diner floors to survive, his secretary moved into my penthouse and wore my diamond anniversary necklace. They thought the freezing cold and poverty would break my spirit. They thought I was just a fragile, disposable pawn who would eventually cave to his power. But they didn't know I had the hidden dashcam footage of that night. As I walked into the Mafia Tribunal, I looked at his arrogant face and prepared to show the Dons exactly what kind of coward my husband truly was.

I am the wife of Dante Moretti, a powerful Mafia Underboss. But in secret, I am "Spettro," the phantom architect who built his entire encrypted bootlegging empire. On my birthday, I came home to find him gifting our five-year-old daughter the exact plush toy he had violently slapped out of my hands months ago. Only this time, he was giving it to his mistress, Adriana, to present as her own. "Auntie Adriana is a million times better than Mommy." My daughter's innocent words pierced my heart, while Dante coldly dismissed my presence, treating me like an unwelcome stranger interrupting their perfect family. He mocked my mothering, allowed his mistress to sever my desperate phone calls with my child, and weaponized his power to break our daughter's spirit just to spite me. He sneered that my only purpose was to stay quiet, absolutely certain I would crawl back the second my allowance ran dry. He thought I was just a weak, submissive wife who had lost everything. He didn't realize that the empire he arrogantly ruled was entirely built on my stolen brilliance. I left my diamond ring on the table, violently slashed our ancient blood oath in half, and walked out of his gilded cage forever. Sitting in a cold warehouse, I placed my hands on my telegraph machine and initiated the Ghost Protocol to permanently paralyze his entire criminal network. The era of playing the dutiful wife was over. I am Donna Falcone, and the vendetta has just begun.

I was the spare daughter of the Vitiello crime family, born solely to provide organs for my golden sister, Isabella. Four years ago, under the codename "Seven," I nursed Dante Moretti, the Don of Chicago, back to health in a safe house. I was the one who held him in the dark. But Isabella stole my name, my credit, and the man I loved. Now, Dante looked at me with nothing but cold disgust, believing her lies. When a neon sign crashed down on the street, Dante used his body to shield Isabella, leaving me to be crushed under twisted steel. While Isabella sat in a VIP suite crying over a scratch, I lay broken, listening to my parents discuss if my kidneys were still viable for harvest. The final straw came at their engagement gala. When Dante saw me wearing the lava stone bracelet I had worn in the safe house, he accused me of stealing it from Isabella. He ordered my father to punish me. I took fifty lashes to my back while Dante covered Isabella's eyes, protecting her from the ugly truth. That night, the love in my heart finally died. On the morning of their wedding, I handed Dante a gift box containing a cassette tape—the only proof that I was Seven. Then, I signed the papers disowning my family, threw my phone out the car window, and boarded a one-way flight to Sydney. By the time Dante listens to that tape and realizes he married a monster, I will be thousands of miles away, never to return.

"You've been in denial for so long, Addison." His voice was husky and heavy with lust. "Do you really want me to stop?" I could not bring myself to say no. My best friend's stepdad was like the devil, making me find so much pleasure in sin. "You can't even say no," he chuckled, letting go of my hand finally. They moved to my face and he stared into my eyes, while his other hand still worked wonders between my legs. "Don't make me do this," I finally said, moaning the words out. "Please." "Tell me to stop one more time and I will," he mumbled. "Please, st-" I didn't complete my words because he captured my lips with his. *+*+*+*+*+*+* Addison Rodriguez never expected to feel any sexual tension or fall in love with her best friend's stepdad. As she surrenders to the sexual tension, her loyalty to her best friend wavers, especially when she finds out that he is secretly a Mafia Lord trying to hide in plain sight and that her best friend's life is in danger, her loyalty is tested even further. Would she reveal his secret to protect her best friend, or keep it to protect her love?