Breenda

11 Published Stories

Breenda's Books and Stories

Revenge Wedding: I Choose The Reaper

Revenge Wedding: I Choose The Reaper

5.0

On my wedding day, the wedding planner looked at me with pity in her eyes. She told me the groom had called with a last-minute request. He wanted the name on the floral arch changed from "Elena" to "Sofia." Five years of loyalty to Dante Romero, and I found out he was planning a "secret" ceremony with his mistress an hour before ours. He claimed she was dying of cancer. He said it was her final wish to be a bride, and that as a good mafia wife, I should understand. He swore it was just charity. But I had seen the texts where he called me "furniture." I had watched him step over my body when I fell down the stairs at a club, just so he could leave with her. And this morning, I watched Sofia walk into the hotel lobby wearing *my* custom French lace wedding dress, smirking as she clung to his arm. Dante thinks I'm crying in the bridal suite. He thinks I will sit in the front row of his "fake" wedding and wait for my turn like a dutiful puppet. He is wrong. I wiped my tears and picked up my phone. I didn't cancel the wedding date. I just changed the location to the ballroom next door. And I changed the groom. As Dante says his vows to his mistress, I am walking down the aisle to meet the only man the Romero family fears. The Reaper.

Return Of The Lethal Unwanted Heiress

Return Of The Lethal Unwanted Heiress

5.0

Allison was hiding in a dusty small-town garage, working as a mechanic to suppress the lethal, experimental serum freezing her veins. But a call from her estranged, wealthy father shattered her peace. He threatened to permanently freeze her dead mother's trust fund if she didn't return to the family estate immediately. That trust fund held the only key to the truth behind her past and her survival. When she stepped into the sprawling mansion in her faded hoodie, her family treated her like a stray dog. Her stepmother mocked her cheap clothes, and her half-brother called her a piece of trash. Her father tossed a vocational school enrollment form at her, telling her to learn to sew so they could marry her off to anyone desperate enough. Her perfect, porcelain-doll stepsister Gwyneth even deliberately smashed a glass of boiling milk against her own leg. "Why did you push me?!" Gwyneth screamed, crying tears of fake terror to frame Allison. "You vicious bitch! You're just as sick as your mother!" her father roared, raising his hand to strike her. They looked at her with absolute disgust, thinking she was just a stupid, uncultured hick they could easily manipulate and destroy. They had no idea that the girl standing before them was a lethal operative who already possessed all their offshore tax ledgers and darkest secrets. Allison easily caught her father's wrist mid-air, her grip like a steel vice. "I'm not going to a trade school," she whispered coldly, ripping the form into pieces. "I am going to Crestwood Academy." It was time to take back everything that belonged to her, with interest.

In The Wrong Mafia Don's Bed

In The Wrong Mafia Don's Bed

5.0

When our family empire crumbled, my sister and I were sold off as collateral to the Chicago Outfit. My fierce sister Frankie was forced to marry Damien Moretti, the terrifying Don. I was shackled to his brother Leo, a notorious, degenerate playboy. I thought my life was over, but the real nightmare began on our wedding night. A terrified maid handed me the wrong room key. Exhausted and numb, I crawled into a dark honeymoon suite, praying my new husband would be too drunk to find me. Instead, the heavy door opened, and a man fueled by a drug-laced drink stepped in. He was ruthless, punishing, and entirely stripped away my dignity in the pitch black. When the morning light finally broke, I turned my head, expecting to see Leo's boyish face. Instead, I saw a profile carved from ice. Damien Moretti. The Don. My sister's husband. The very man who had previously called me a "liability" and ruined my life. When he realized who I was, his eyes filled with absolute, chilling disgust. He dragged me out of the ruined sheets, threw me onto the floor of a freezing shower, and demanded to know why I had sneaked into his suite. "You ruined me. How am I supposed to look at Frankie? You should have just killed me. Kill me now, Damien. It would be a mercy compared to this." I sobbed, the freezing water mingling with my tears. He just stared down at me with cold, unreadable intent. I was now trapped in a house of monsters, carrying the Don's darkest secret, and I had to figure out how to survive without destroying my sister.

Married to the Tyrant in a Wheelchair

Married to the Tyrant in a Wheelchair

5.0

My boyfriend and stepsister murdered me for my inheritance, their celebratory kiss a final insult above my broken body on the rain-slicked concrete of the port. As my soul floated inches from my own face, a tyrant the world knew only as a disfigured cripple, Charles Moses, arrived with a team of soldiers. He ignored my killers, who were now begging for their lives. Instead, he fell to his knees in the mud and blood. He cradled my lifeless head in his hands, and a gut-wrenching sob of pure agony tore from his throat before he carried my body into the black ocean. As the water closed over us, I didn't understand. Why did this monster, a man I had never met, weep for me as if I was his entire world? My eyes snapped open. I was five years in the past, coughing up water in a hospital bed. It was the night my family screamed at me for ruining my stepsister's dress after she'd tried to drown me. When they offered to marry me off to the "crippled monster" Charles Moses to save my perfect stepsister from that fate, I didn't fight them. I smiled and said yes. This time, I would walk straight into the lion's den myself.

Midas Protocol: Seducing My Rival's Wife

Midas Protocol: Seducing My Rival's Wife

5.0

I sat in the freezing conference room, my knuckles white as I strangled a cheap plastic pen. Outside, Manhattan was weeping in the gray rain, but inside, the air was sterile and dead. I stared at the polished mahogany table, seeing the distorted reflection of a man who hadn't slept in forty-eight hours—a man about to sign his own divorce papers. Across from me, my wife Linda wouldn't even look at me. She was too busy drumming her fingers near a diamond ring that cost more than I had made in the last five years combined. Then the door swung open, and Simon Thorne walked in. The billionaire heir didn't say a word; he just walked behind Linda and placed a heavy, possessive hand on her shoulder, marking her as his. "Let's wrap this up," Simon said, checking his Patek Philippe with the bored tone of a man ordering a coffee he didn't want. Linda finally looked through me like I was a ghost and told me to stop dragging this out. She whispered that I couldn't even afford myself anymore, a physical punch to the gut given I’d lost my job three weeks ago. After I signed, Simon flicked a business card at me, mockingly offering me a job as a doorman for minimum wage. I walked out into the downpour, shivering in a suit I couldn't afford to dry clean. My phone vibrated with a text from my landlord: "Pack your things. Keys by tonight or I’m calling the cops." I stood on the corner of 5th Avenue with exactly $42.18 to my name, watching Simon kiss my wife through the glass wall of the penthouse. I was thirty, homeless, and drowning in a city of lions. I wanted to roar until my throat bled, but I just stood there, a drowned rat in a world of predators. How could I have lost everything so fast? Why was the woman who promised to stay through "for poorer" now leaning into the arms of the man who just humiliated me? Suddenly, my phone screen exploded with a blinding golden light. An app called the Midas Protocol installed itself, declaring poverty a disease and itself the cure. With one tap, a million dollars bypassed a federal hold and hit my account, and a "Nemesis Card" appeared in my digital inventory. I didn't hesitate. I typed Simon Thorne’s name into the vengeance algorithm and hit execute. The game had officially changed.

A Wife's Ultimate Retribution

A Wife's Ultimate Retribution

5.0

I told my boyfriend, Caleb, that we were over. He built his tech empire with my inheritance, but for months, his assistant Kimberly had been slowly replacing me in our life. He called me paranoid and emotional. But when I went back to our apartment to get my mother's necklace, I found Kimberly there, wearing my silk robe. She stood over the shattered pieces of my mother's locket, claiming it was an accident. When I lunged at her, Caleb ran in, shielded her, and called me a monster. "It's just a thing," he said coldly. "I'll buy you a better one." But the real betrayal came from Kimberly's mouth. She sneered and threw a painful secret from my past in my face—a trauma I had only ever confessed to Caleb, who had sworn he would protect it with his life. He had handed her the weapon to destroy me. That's when I finally saw him clearly. He hadn't just cheated; he had used my money to build his kingdom and my vulnerability to control me. I looked at the man I had created and made a new promise. "I am going to burn your entire world to the ground."

The Monster He Made, The Woman She Became

The Monster He Made, The Woman She Became

5.0

My engagement party was supposed to be the start of my perfect life with Michael. Then, his "adopted sister" Tiffany showed up, flashing a hickey and claiming Michael needed her to help us conceive a son on our wedding night. My world shattered as Michael watched, a faint, unreadable smile on his face, openly enjoying my humiliation. The next day, Michael brutally murdered my dear younger brother, Ethan, right in front of me to make me apologize to Tiffany. He even took away my parents' life-saving medical funding, forcing me to plan our wedding while they suffered. I endured his and Tiffany' s twisted games, their constant physical and emotional torment, all to protect the last people I had left. They told me I was adopted, that I was worthless, that my family meant nothing compared to Tiffany' s happiness. Every lash of his whip was a cold reminder that my life was a game to them, a test for Michael to prove his loyalty to his grandfather. But as I lay bleeding, defeated, a new feeling rose within me: a burning desire for revenge. I survived, found help, and then I fought back. I leaked the horrifying videos and audio of their cruelty to the world, destroying their perfect facade and Michael' s empire. But that was just the beginning. Michael' s furious retaliation against Tiffany, his desperate attempts to win me back even after his parents died and he was blinded, only fueled my fire. His self-destruction was meaningless to me now. I wanted him to understand that some lines, once crossed, can never be uncrossed. My name is Olivia Reynolds, and this is the story of how I took everything back, piece by agonizing piece.

Stolen Life, Stolen Love

Stolen Life, Stolen Love

5.0

The first thing I noticed was the jarring yellow light, not the soft city gray I expected, and a small boy playing on my bedroom floor. He looked at me with wide, innocent eyes and smiled, saying, "Mommy, you're awake!" My heart hammered. Then my husband, Mark, walked in, followed by my parents, casually talking about "our son, Leo," as if this wasn't an impossible nightmare. They presented a birth certificate, DNA test, and even hospital footage, all with my name, proving I was Leo' s mother, claiming my successful career was a delusion caused by mental illness. They drugged me, gaslit me, and painted me as the unstable one, making me doubt my entire memory and sanity. How could my own body, my own family, betray me so completely? Was I truly losing my mind? Just as I surrendered to this crushing reality, a woman identical to me, my long-lost twin sister Ashley, appeared, triggering a chilling revelation: the lie was real, but it wasn't mine-it was hers. This child, this life, belonged to Ashley, while Mark and my parents had conspired to steal my identity and sanity. I had to play their game, pretending to accept my "illness," to reclaim my life and unmask their monstrous deception.

No Longer His Doll

No Longer His Doll

5.0

I loved Michael so fully, a quiet burning devotion for my youth pastor, believing he was my soulmate. Then he left me for his "true love." In a fit of desperate jealousy, I hired men to just `scare` him, but it went horribly wrong. He suffered a head injury, waking with amnesia, claiming I was the only woman he remembered, the only one he loved. Guilt gnawed at me, but I clung to his twisted miracle, marrying him fast. My mother warned me, her voice weak but firm: "Sarah, this isn't right." I dismissed her, blinded by supposed love. Months later, in an isolated cabin during brutal childbirth, I heard Michael' s voice, cold and ruthless. He confessed his amnesia was a lie, a scheme with my stepsister, Jessica, his true love. They planned to steal my baby and force me into degradation. My baby girl was murdered by him, yet I was forced to breastfeed Jessica' s child, a constant, sickening humiliation. My mother' s warnings echoed, a devastating realization setting in: I was just a pawn, a "milk machine." But when Jessica cruelly revealed my own child had been slowly poisoned, something in me snapped. Broken, but not defeated, Mama V – an old friend of my late mother – recognized me when Michael dumped me at a decrepit city club, fully intending to sell me into a life I couldn't bear. She offered me a choice: sing for my life, or be swallowed by despair. I chose to sing. And I chose to live.

Five Years of Lies: A Wife's Escape

Five Years of Lies: A Wife's Escape

5.0

My five-year marriage to Logan was a twisted cycle: he' d orchestrate "final" breakups, always expecting me to beg him back. I always did. Our tenth "final" split began over spilled coffee. But this time, I found his unlocked laptop and "The Ava Project" – a chilling journal where he meticulously documented his sadistic pleasure in my tears, his calculated cruelty, and how he used his mistress, Chloe, as a weapon. He was a monster. He publicly paraded Chloe with my heirloom locket, then ignored my injury from a falling chandelier. He moved Chloe into our home, framed me for poisoning her, and force-fed me migraine-inducing wine. Worst of all, he actively helped Chloe steal my culinary dream, crushing my scholarship. He genuinely relished my anguish, believing my submission fed his warped need for control. My love was his perverse entertainment, my loyalty exploited. The horrific realization clicked: my suffering was his ultimate pleasure, and he was deliberately destroying me. But no more. Feigning surrender, I secretly secured a new culinary scholarship in New Orleans. Despite his escalating torment, I finally escaped his clutches. Now, thriving and free, Logan believes he can reclaim his "broken doll." He has no idea his cruel games ultimately forged a phoenix.

Enticing Fancy: Genius CEO's Bride

Enticing Fancy: Genius CEO's Bride

4.8

Henry‘s father and brother died the same year he was born. The family matriarch was devastated, so she went to a fortune teller to seek for help. They found out that in order to get rid of the ill omen brought to his family, he needed to wed someone who had a hard life like him. According to the clairvoyant, he should marry Kelley, a sole survivor of a devastating earthquake from a few years back. However, Henry was already engaged to another woman. How could he ever marry a stranger and leave the woman he loved?

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Shattered Loyalty, A New Beginning Blooms

Shattered Loyalty, A New Beginning Blooms

4.5

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."

Rejected by the Son, I Chose the Don

Rejected by the Son, I Chose the Don

4.5

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.

From Jilted Bride To Mafia Empress

From Jilted Bride To Mafia Empress

5.0

For seven years, I was the architect of my fiancé's criminal empire and the strategist behind his every move. I was Dante Gallo’s unofficial Consigliere, his partner in everything but name. Tomorrow, I was finally supposed to marry him and take my place as the queen to his throne. But on the eve of our wedding, a single text message sent by mistake detonated my life. It was a photo from Dante, showing a platinum wedding band on his hand. The message read: “Married this morning. She’s safe now.” My gaze fell to the engagement ring on my own finger. It was the identical band, just smaller. The engraved initials ‘D.I.’ didn’t stand for Dante and I. They stood for Dante and Isabella—his childhood sweetheart. My entire relationship was a lie; I was just a shield to protect his one true love. He dismissed my discovery as a "tantrum." Then, his new bride began taunting me, sending a picture of them tangled in bedsheets with the caption: "Loser." They expected me to break. They thought I would shatter. They were about to find out just how wrong they were. I forwarded the picture to Isabella’s fiancé, a man far more dangerous than Dante. "Your fiancée is in Suite 8808 at the Grand Hyatt," I told him. "I'll meet you downstairs. We're going to crash their party."

The Underboss's Wife, Now His Queen

The Underboss's Wife, Now His Queen

5.0

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.

His Betrayal, My Revenge: A Mafia Romance

His Betrayal, My Revenge: A Mafia Romance

Barr Wettlaufer

5.0

The moment I saw my husband massaging his dead brother's pregnant mistress's feet, I knew my marriage was over. He moved her into our home under the guise of "family duty," forcing me to watch as he prioritized her comfort over our vows. The final betrayal came when she stole and deliberately broke my mother's priceless necklace. When I slapped her for the desecration, my husband struck me across the face to defend her. He had violated a sacred honor code by putting his hands on the daughter of another Don-an act of war. I looked him in the eye and swore on my mother's grave that I would bring a bloody revenge upon his entire family. Then I made one phone call to my father, and the demolition of his empire began.

My Husband's Brother Owns My Secret

My Husband's Brother Owns My Secret

4.0

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.

His Healing Grace

His Healing Grace

5.0

BLURB: River never intended to be pulled into the dangerous world of the Mafia, but a single moment of bravery changes everything. In an attempt to save the man who fuels her wildest fantasies, she unwittingly steps into the path of Rico Swavey, the ruthless Mafia Lord with a dark, hidden past. Rico has built his empire on control and secrecy, keeping his heart locked away. But when River, the doe-eyed woman who sparks something dangerous within him, stumbles into his life, his defenses begin to crumble. Haunted by a crime from his childhood, Rico struggles to accept love, especially from someone like River. What happens when she becomes a stripper in his club? Can River break through the walls around Rico's heart? And can Rico forgive himself for the sins of his past to embrace a future with her? Dive into their world of passion, danger, and redemption in HIS HEALING GRACE.

Revenge Wedding: I Choose The Reaper

Revenge Wedding: I Choose The Reaper

5.0

On my wedding day, the wedding planner looked at me with pity in her eyes. She told me the groom had called with a last-minute request. He wanted the name on the floral arch changed from "Elena" to "Sofia." Five years of loyalty to Dante Romero, and I found out he was planning a "secret" ceremony with his mistress an hour before ours. He claimed she was dying of cancer. He said it was her final wish to be a bride, and that as a good mafia wife, I should understand. He swore it was just charity. But I had seen the texts where he called me "furniture." I had watched him step over my body when I fell down the stairs at a club, just so he could leave with her. And this morning, I watched Sofia walk into the hotel lobby wearing *my* custom French lace wedding dress, smirking as she clung to his arm. Dante thinks I'm crying in the bridal suite. He thinks I will sit in the front row of his "fake" wedding and wait for my turn like a dutiful puppet. He is wrong. I wiped my tears and picked up my phone. I didn't cancel the wedding date. I just changed the location to the ballroom next door. And I changed the groom. As Dante says his vows to his mistress, I am walking down the aisle to meet the only man the Romero family fears. The Reaper.

The Capo's Scarred Wife: A Vicious Comeback

The Capo's Scarred Wife: A Vicious Comeback

4.0

I was the Chicago Outfit's princess, and Luca and Matteo were my sworn protectors. We had mixed our blood at ten years old, promising that nothing would ever touch me. But that oath turned to ash the night Sofia Ricci aimed a Roman candle at my chest. The firework slammed into my shoulder, igniting my silk dress instantly. As I rolled on the concrete, screaming while the flames ate into my skin, I waited for my boys to save me. They didn't. Instead, I watched through the smoke as they rushed to Sofia. They wrapped their jackets—the ones meant to shield me—around the girl who had just set me on fire, comforting her because the "kickback" had scared her. They let me burn to keep her warm. When I woke up in the hospital with permanent scars, they brought me a letter of apology from her and defended her "accident." They even cut their palms to pay her debt, ignoring the fact that I was the one in bandages. That was the moment Elena Vitiello died. I didn't scream. I didn't beg. I simply packed my bags and defected to the one place they couldn't follow: the arms of Dante Moretti, the lethal Capo of New York. By the time they realized their mistake and came crawling back to beg in the rain, I was already wearing another man's ring. "You want forgiveness?" I asked, looking down at them. "Burn for it."

The Comatose Wife's Billionaire Family Comeback

The Comatose Wife's Billionaire Family Comeback

William Jafferson

5.0

I was trapped in a locked-in state for six months, fully conscious but unable to move a single muscle. My step-family, Delma and Jazmyne, marched into my hospital room, forged a Do Not Resuscitate order, and yanked out my oxygen tube just to stop paying my medical bills. When my three-year-old daughter, Amari, leaped out from under the bed to protect me, they beat her mercilessly. They kicked my tiny girl in the stomach, smashed a heavy metal IV pole into her fragile shoulder, and dragged her out by her ankles. They even tied her to a tree in their backyard and let a massive Rottweiler tear into her flesh, laughing as they recorded her agonizing screams. I lay in that hospital bed, hearing every blow and every desperate cry. I didn't understand why they had to torture an innocent toddler just because they thought I was a worthless piece of trash with amnesia. A tidal wave of absolute fury crashed against the invisible walls of my paralyzed body, burning away the despair. Gritting my teeth until my jaw popped, I forced my dead weight off the mattress and dragged my atrophied legs across the freezing floor to a landline. With trembling, bloody fingers, I punched in a twelve-digit military-grade encrypted code. It was time for my real family—the most powerful men in the country—to make these monsters pay.