EVA PINK
15 Published Stories
EVA PINK's Books and Stories
Rejected By Him, Crowned By The Don
Mafia For three months, I thought I was the only woman who knew Fabiano’s soul. Then he saw my face — and decided I was worth less than the check he slid across the table.
But it was all a clerical error. When we finally met and he saw my plain face, he realized I wasn't the glamorous mafia princess he thought he was talking to. He immediately severed our connection and forced me to help him court her instead, promising a blank check to save my dying grandmother from loan sharks in return.
I swallowed my pride and did everything he asked. When my grandmother suddenly needed immediate brain surgery to survive the night, I crashed his VIP party to cash in his promise. Fabiano wrote the check, but his new princess snatched it, poured red wine all over the paper, and threw it in the trash.
"You are a jealous, pathetic leech. You are nothing," she spat, laughing in my face.
I stood there with my hand frozen in the empty air, looking at Fabiano. The man who once swore he would burn down the city for me just sat there on the leather sofa, watching in complete silence as my grandmother's only lifeline was destroyed.
The foolish warmth I carried for him instantly died. I turned around, walked out into the freezing rain, and got into the armored SUV of his biggest rival. This time, I wouldn't beg for scraps; I was going to build my own empire. Mafia King's Debt: My Family's Fury
Mafia At my husband's nephew's christening, I saw him across the ballroom holding a newborn with another woman. I was four months pregnant with his heir, but he was presenting her son as his own.
He had built a criminal empire, and our marriage was a strategic alliance. But now, the men who toasted our wedding were congratulating him on another woman's child, their gazes sliding right past me. My mother confirmed my worst fears: he'd been paying for his mistress's apartment for months.
His mistress, Selena, cornered me, her voice dripping with venom. "He chose me. And our son." The stress brought on sharp, agonizing cramps, but when my husband, Dante, rushed over, he took her side. "Calm down," he commanded. "You're making a scene."
He accused me of being hysterical, of cornering his fragile mistress who had just given birth. Through a haze of pain, I watched him shield her from me, his wife, telling me to go home and "be rational."
The public humiliation was absolute. In the lawyer's office, Selena slapped me, then knocked over her own baby's carrier and screamed that I had attacked her child. Dante believed her without question. As I collapsed from the pain, the last thing I saw was his back as he walked away with his new family.
I woke up in the hospital. He arrived with his mistress, not to see if I was okay, but to demand I apologize to her.
That was the moment the woman he married died. And in her place, someone new was born. Betrayed and Sold as the Lycan King's Wolfless Bride
Werewolf I was born wolfless, the defective daughter of the Nichols Pack. My only value was an arranged engagement to Julian Hayes, the powerful Alpha heir my family needed for an alliance.
Then my stepsister handed me a glass of champagne at the pack gala.
When I woke up the next morning, I was naked in a stranger's bed, covered in bruises and bite marks, with a terrifying Alpha's scent burned into my skin. I had no memory of the night before. Only one certainty remained.
I had been drugged.
I ran home in the stranger's shirt, desperate for protection. Instead, my fiancé looked at me with disgust, my stepsister took my place beside him, and my father decided I was still useful after all.
Not as a daughter.
As a bargaining chip.
He sold me to Alpha Montgomery, a cruel old tyrant rumored to be seeking a bride. When I refused, my father gave me the one threat I could never ignore.
"Marry him, or your brother's treatments stop."
For Noah, my dying younger brother, I agreed.
I even tried a forbidden purification ritual to erase the stranger's scent from my body. But before the healers could begin, a gray-eyed Alpha cornered me in the hospital and shut it all down with a single command.
I thought he was only the Lycan King's ruthless enforcer.
I thought the man I had to marry was an old monster waiting in the dark.
I was wrong.
On the eve of my wedding, my groom called. His voice made my cruel father bow in terror. His words made my blood turn cold.
He was not old. He was not weak.
He was the stranger from that night.
The Alpha who had marked me.
The Lycan King himself.
And he whispered through the phone, "Tomorrow, you become my Luna. Everything you are belongs to me." Rejected by My Family, Claimed by the Galactic Commander
Sci-fi I woke up to the stench of rust and rotting flesh, no longer a master botanist who commanded life itself, but a D-class exile dumped on a wasteland planet.
Memories that weren't mine flooded in. I was framed by my stepsister, betrayed by my fiancé, and banished by my own family to the Ashfall Peninsula to die.
The original girl actually starved to death in despair. The moment I opened my eyes, a scavenger tried to smash my skull with a rusty pipe just to eat me. After I killed him to survive, I discovered a harsher truth: in this universe, plant seeds are classified as A-level strategic resources, completely monopolized by the Imperium.
But the universe had a sick sense of humor. A mandatory background scan suddenly triggered a galactic broadcast: I, the exiled trash, was a perfect genetic match for the Imperium's top war hero, General Alexander Orr.
The family that ruthlessly erased my existence instantly saw me as a golden ticket. My cheating ex-fiancé was dispatched to drag me back, furious that his "property" was matched with someone else. They all thought I was still that weak, naive girl they could manipulate.
But as I held the pure, glowing Life Source Crystals I had secretly extracted from the scrap heap, a cold smile crept onto my face.
"I didn't come here to die. I came here to build an empire."
I turned my back on the galactic broadcast and stepped into the deadly wilderness. Reborn: Marrying My Cheating Ex's Uncle
Werewolf My fiancé, Julian, was the Alpha heir, and our engagement was supposed to unite our powerful Packs.
But hours before our grand ceremony, he coldly confessed that he had always loved my best friend, Seraphina.
She orchestrated a flawless trap, hiring a drugged Omega and bringing a mob of reporters to "discover" me in my hotel bed.
Julian didn't even let me explain. He looked at me with pure disgust, publicly breaking our engagement and letting the media brand me a worthless, cheating whore.
Stripped of my title and abandoned by my family, I was left completely defenseless.
That same night, a pack of savage Rogues cornered me in an icy alley.
They ripped through my flesh, and my desperate screams were swallowed by the storm.
As my blood seeped into the freezing pavement, I saw Seraphina in my mind, wearing the gown that should have been mine, holding Julian's arm.
Until my last breath, I couldn't accept it. I had devoted my entire life to him and our Pack.
Why was my loyalty repaid with such a vicious betrayal? Why did I have to die like a pathetic, wolfless joke just so they could have their happy ending?
Opening my eyes again, I was back in the luxurious hotel bed, mere minutes before Seraphina and the reporters were set to burst through the door. His Dangerous Love: The Writer And The Don
Mafia I was exactly three thousand words away from eviction when the heir to the New York underworld smashed my laptop and offered me a job instead of an apology.
Dante Vitiello wanted me to write a memoir that would paint him as a saint.
I moved into his penthouse, thinking I could keep things professional. But when his arranged fiancée, the daughter of the Chicago Outfit, arrived, she didn't see an employee. She saw a threat.
She didn't just humiliate me; she leaked fake evidence to the press, branding me as a federal informant.
I woke up in a hospital bed with the word "RAT" plastered across every gossip site.
Sofia’s guards were stationed outside my door, blocking even the nurses. I was a liability. A stain on the Vitiello name.
I knew how these stories ended. The Prince always chooses the Family. The Alliance is more important than the girl.
I was packing my bag, shaking with fear, ready to disappear into the night to save him from ruin.
But Dante didn't come to fire me. He walked into the boardroom where his father and the Chicago Boss were waiting for him to beg for forgiveness.
He looked at the crown that was his birthright, then he looked at the gun on the table.
He didn't kneel. He didn't apologize.
He slammed his weapon down, shattering a hundred-year alliance and forfeiting his empire with a single sentence.
"Keep the crown. I take the girl." The Don's Regret: Losing His Life Saver
Mafia For three years, I was the one scrubbing the scent of blood from his hands and holding him while he screamed in pain. I was the one who taught Coleton Barron how to walk again after the car bomb nearly took his legs.
But the moment he reclaimed his seat as Don, I became invisible.
At his recovery gala, he draped his arm around Charly—the woman who fled when he was crippled—and laughed as he told his inner circle I was "just the hired help."
It didn't stop at insults. When Charly faked a fall, he shoved me aside with enough force to crack my skull against the pool edge.
When a bomb went off in a gallery, he looked me in the eye, saw me trapped under debris, and turned his back to carry her to safety instead.
He even held a gun to my head because she lied about me poisoning his soup.
His mother threw a check at me, telling me that tools go back in the box when the job is done. They thought I would beg to stay. They thought I was weak.
I took the five million and vanished without a word.
Three years later, I returned to New York. Not as his nurse, but as the fiancée of the only man Coleton fears.
And when he saw the diamond on my finger, the King of New York finally realized he had thrown away his only lifeline. I Married My Ex-Fiancé's Ruthless Older Brother
Mafia I was a Vitiello, sold to the Morettis to secure an alliance. For five years, I quietly loved Dante, counting down the minutes until our wedding at St. Patrick's Cathedral.
But it ended with a single text three minutes before the ceremony.
"Stay at the apartment. Sofia is awake. Don't make a scene."
His ex-girlfriend, the love of his life, had woken from a coma with no memory. Just like that, I was erased.
For thirty days, I waited in the shadows while Dante played hero to a woman who didn't remember him. He told me he was protecting her fragile mind.
But then I found the truth.
I stood outside the doctor's office and heard Dante refuse a treatment that would restore Sofia's memory.
"If she remembers, she might leave again," Dante told the doctor. "Elena will wait. She's a good soldier. Let me have my fantasy."
He wasn't protecting her. He was keeping her broken to feed his ego, banking on my submission. He thought I was furniture he could put in storage.
He was wrong.
I didn't go back to the apartment. Instead, I dialed a number every made man in New York feared.
"Matteo," I said to Dante's lethal older brother, the King of the underworld.
"I am done waiting. I want to be a Moretti bride. But not Dante's." My Funeral, His Destruction Stage
Romance Tentu, saya akan menambahkan POV (Point of View) ke setiap bab sesuai dengan permintaan Anda, tanpa mengubah format atau konten lainnya.
On the day my daughter turned five, my husband Carter finally came home-with his mistress and a child who looked exactly like him.
He introduced me as the "mother of his child," not his wife, while my own parents fawned over his illegitimate daughter to secure a business merger.
I was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer, leaving me with months to live, yet no one cared.
The breaking point wasn't my illness, but seeing Carter slap our daughter across the face because she refused to give her first-place ribbon to his mistress's child.
"She disrespected me! I have a right to discipline my own daughter!"
He thinks I' m just a dying, discarded wife who will fade away quietly to make room for his new family.
He' s wrong.
I have three months left to live, and I' m going to spend every second of it burning his empire to the ground.
My funeral will be the stage for his destruction. The Alpha's Secret Son, My Stolen Cure
Werewolf For three years, I lay dying from a poison, my only hope a single-dose antidote, the Moonpetal Elixir. My husband, Alpha Joshua, had played the part of a devoted mate, and I trusted him to save me.
But through our fading bond, I overheard his secret command to the pack's healer.
"Give the Moonpetal Elixir to Ella Campbell's mother."
His reason shattered my world: "Ella gave me a son. A healthy, strong son." He had a secret family. The past three years of his loving care were a lie. He was just waiting for me to die.
He even brought me their leftover soup, calling me "the sick wolf," and defiled my parents' sacred home with his mistress and their child. He planned to tell the pack my cure was stolen, turning my death into a tragedy for his own gain.
He thought I was a weak, dying wolf. He had no idea what kind of storm he had just awakened.
That night, I gathered the last of my strength and severed our mate bond. The pain was excruciating, but I walked out of that house of lies, leaving only my wedding ring behind. I would not die. I would live to watch his world burn. His Abuse, Her Undoing, His End
Horror My life with Andrew was a constant dance around the baseball bat, a premonition of my own bloody end that haunted my every waking moment.
Then, I found my father-in-law, Mr. Scott, in a pool of his own blood on the kitchen floor, a deep gash on his forehead.
Instead of calling 911, I manipulated my lifelong hemophobia and feigned terror, dialing Andrew' s cousin, Ethan, a kind paramedic, dragging him into a manufactured crisis.
At the hospital, Andrew' s true colors bled through: he cursed me, refused to sign for his dying father' s emergency surgery, and screamed divorce, all while giggling with his mistress, Sabrina, in the background.
He even tried to strangle me at his father' s funeral, abandoning the casket to rush to Sabrina' s side, believing her needs superseded everything.
I wasn' t a helpless victim anymore; I recorded his abuse, exposed his heartless acts online, and watched, stone-faced, as the internet tore him apart, leading to his public humiliation and firing.
But Andrew, fueled by rage and paranoia, wasn't done; he came for me, knife in hand, convinced I was conspiring to steal his inheritance with Ethan.
When Ethan arrived and got stabbed trying to save me, something snapped inside him, and he furiously plunged the knife into Andrew, again and again.
Ethan got prison time for manslaughter, but Andrew' s death wasn' t just a simple crime of passion; his wife' s whispered revelation at the funeral, a calculated confession of her own brutal past with Ethan, shattered my understanding of what truly happened that night.
Now, years later, I am finally free, walking away from the ghosts and the blood, ready to build a new life for myself, but the true scope of the sacrifices made for my freedom still lingers. The Second Chance Trap
Modern The smell of burnt coffee and cheap vanilla filled my lungs, my hands shaking behind the counter of "The Daily Grind."
Just moments ago, I was on a rooftop, the white of my wedding dress stained with grime, watching my fiancé declare his love for my best friend, Molly.
My mother collapsed, her heart giving out from the shock, and I saw her fall before I turned and jumped.
Yet here I was, alive, the calendar showing weeks before that catastrophic wedding day, the memory of my mother's lifeless body still fresh in my mind.
Molly walked in, her fake-sweet smile exactly as I remembered, still utterly oblivious to the hatred now burning ice-cold in my stomach.
She started her tale of a "Karmic App," claiming any man I liked would fall for her instead, her crocodile tears perfected.
This was the lie she told me the first time, covering her tracks as she systematically stole every relationship and piece of joy from my life.
I stared at her, the woman who orchestrated my downfall, consumed by a rage so pure it threatened to shatter me.
Why was I back? Why was I given this impossible second chance, only to relive the agony that killed my mother and drove me to jump?
Then it hit me: The app wasn't a curse; it was her weapon, and this time, I wasn't just back-I was going to be the one to erase her. Karma Served Cold: The Billionaire's Mother
Modern The cold garage floor seeped through my thin jeans as I lay hidden, listening. This wasn't a memory; it was a horrifying déjà vu, a second chance at the day that had once destroyed me.
Inside, I heard my husband Kevin' s bitter voice, dismissing me as "simple," "always tired," and "smelling like the diner." His mother, Helen, chimed in, labeling me an "anchor, dragging him down" from his imagined football star glory.
Then came the chilling words from my own twelve-year-old son, Justin.
He openly wished Aunt Tiffany, the "friend" I'd helped through her divorce, was his mom, because her house didn' t smell like "fried onions." Tiffany' s smooth voice, dripping with fake concern, endorsed their narrative, twisting my double shifts into "neglect."
I knew their entire sinister plot, every humiliating detail: Justin' s fake "runaway" act, Kevin' s performative call to the police and Child Protective Services, framing me as an unfit mother.
They planned to file for emergency custody, force a divorce, and escape with Justin to a new "perfect" life with Tiffany, leaving me utterly ruined. In my first life, I was blindsided.
I fought desperately, screamed, cried, and ultimately lost everything-my son, my home, my reputation. I truly died a broken woman, my soul consumed by an unbearable grief. But somehow, I was back.
The crushing grief was gone, replaced by a terrifying calm and an ice-cold resolve. They still believed I was simple, weak. They were about to discover the monstrous mistake they had made. Too Late, Sarah: A Husband's Vow
Modern The last thing Ethan Walker remembered was the bitter taste of pills.
His life, once defined by Coast Guard rescues, had been systematically dismantled by his ambitious wife, Sarah, and her manipulative half-brother, Liam.
They'd dismissed his debilitating leg injury, isolated him, and even sent their eight-year-old son, Ben, away, claiming it was for his "future."
Drowning in pain and despair, discarded as a liability, Ethan saw no other escape.
His final, icy thought: "Sarah, if there's another life, I won't love you again."
Then, he gasped, bolting upright in his familiar bedroom.
The early Alaskan sunlight cut through the blinds, and he saw the date: months before Liam' s arrival, before the crushing betrayals.
He was alive.
Again.
The shock was a physical blow, but beneath it, a burning fury ignited.
He' d believed in Sarah, in their life together, only for her to choose ambition and a snake like Liam over everything.
How could she have let Liam twist their love, their family, into something so toxic?
The memory of his shattered past, the agonizing spiral, the feeling of being entirely powerless and betrayed, hit him with brutal force.
He wouldn't let it happen again.
This time, he wouldn't be the wreckage left behind.
His hand, trembling with cold resolve, reached for his phone.
He was calling a divorce lawyer.
When Sarah walked in, her composure already cracking, he stared her down, his voice cold.
His fight for freedom, for Ben, and for his own redemption, began now. You might like
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. Substitute Bride: Taming The Masked Mafia Don
Hei Baidong I was dragged back from the countryside by my father for one purpose: to be a sacrificial lamb.
He ordered me to marry the mafia Don Damien Valachi in place of my sister. Everyone in the underworld knew that this Don's brides never saw the light of the next day. My stepmother put on a fake smile and took my hand, calling it an "honor"; my sister hid behind her, unable to conceal the gleam of triumph in her eyes.
I smiled coldly and held up two fingers: "Twenty million dollars. Now."
My father tried to play tricks, planning to take back the money from my trust fund after I died, but I had someone transfer every cent out before the wedding, leaving him a zero balance.
The next day, the wedding car pulled up to the Valachi estate. The butler ordered the driver to use the service entrance-it seemed my groom didn't think I was worthy of the front gate.
I got out and switched to an armored vehicle. I floored the accelerator, crashing straight through the estate gates. The gates shattered, and I didn't stop until I reached the main steps. I jumped out, the heel of my shoe crushing a broken iron railing, and shouted:
"The bride is here."
I looked up, scanning every window until my gaze stopped on one dark pane. I knew Damien was watching.
I brushed the dust off my skirt, raised my voice a notch, and smiled: "What, the Don of the Valachi family doesn't dare come out to meet his new wife?" Reborn To Ruin The Capo's Wedding
Felix Turner My mother is marrying a monster tomorrow.
I'm the only one who remembers.
My widowed mother was arranged to marry Lorenzo, a powerful Mafia Capo. I thought his status would finally bring us protection.
But on the third day of their marriage, Lorenzo moved his pregnant mistress, Camilla, into the estate's master suite.
She loudly claimed the child in her womb was the orphaned blood of a fallen soldier.
"A Capo of Lorenzo's stature is doing your mother a service," the Syndicate wives mocked me, demanding we accept our place.
Camilla systematically seized my mother's territory cuts and subjected her to endless psychological torture, while Lorenzo simply turned a blind eye.
When the baby was born, it bore the exact same distinct birthmark on its neck as Lorenzo.
Only then did we realize Lorenzo had used my mother as a convenient shield for his illicit affair, stealing my dead father's legacy and slowly draining our lives away.
I didn't understand why the Family's brutal justice allowed a thief to siphon funds under the guise of caring for a martyr's widow, leaving us to die in absolute disgrace.
Opening my eyes again, I was back to the day before the mob wedding.
Looking at my six-year-old hands, I grabbed the torn marriage petition and stole the secret trust documents.
This time, I ran straight to the heavily guarded gates of Don Salvatore, the most ruthless executioner in the city. You Called Me Barren, Mr. Sterile Don
Gong Zi On my birthday, my husband Dante asked for a divorce over a plate of cold lasagna.
He held my hand, tears in his eyes, and told me his mistress was pregnant.
"It’s a miracle, Elena," he wept. "God has finally given me a son."
He looked at me with pity, calling me "broken" because I hadn't given him an heir in eight years.
He moved his pregnant mistress into the penthouse I paid for, and his mother mocked me as a "dry vine" while cooking tonic soups for the new woman.
They didn't know the truth I had buried three years ago.
I remembered the day the doctor slid the file across the desk: *Azoospermia. Zero sperm count.*
Dante was the sterile one.
I had burned the results to protect his fragile ego as a Mafia Don. I took the blame. I drank his mother's vile herbal poisons every morning until I vomited, just to keep his secret.
Now, he was discarding me for a "miracle" that was biologically impossible.
I signed the divorce papers without a tear.
Then I bought the debt of his company, put on a blood-red dress, and walked into his heir's Christening.
I didn't come to object.
I came to plug a USB drive into the projector and show the entire underworld exactly whose "miracle" that baby really was. My Triplets' Daddy Is A Heartless Mafia
Itsme "It was just one night stand, and now I'm pregnant with triplets? Gosh!"
Josephine Jade never thought that she would have to run away from her own family while pregnant. She was alone, without money, without connections, with three fetuses in her stomach. How can she survive?
However, Josephine couldn't give up now, until she managed to reclaim her arbitrarily seized property and get back at everyone who tried to get rid of her.
A sick child, a past crush that comes back, a mysterious eccentric man, and a family that hates her, will weave together the journey of Josephine Jade's new life.
"You have no right to separate me from my children, you bastard! I will survive and you will submit to me. Just watch!" The Underboss's Wife, Now His Queen
Hydro Therapy I stood outside my husband's study, the perfect mafia wife, only to hear him mocking me as an "ice sculpture" while he entertained his mistress, Aria.
But the betrayal went deeper than infidelity.
A week later, my saddle snapped mid-jump, leaving me with a shattered leg. Lying in the hospital bed, I overheard the conversation that killed the last of my love.
My husband, Alessandro, knew Aria had sabotaged my gear. He knew she could have killed me.
Yet, he told his men to let it go. He called my near-death experience a "lesson" because I had bruised his mistress's ego.
He humiliated me publicly, freezing my accounts to buy family heirlooms for her. He stood by while she threatened to leak our private tapes to the press.
He destroyed my dignity to play the hero for a woman he thought was a helpless orphan.
He had no idea she was a fraud.
He didn't know I had installed micro-cameras throughout the estate while he was busy pampering her.
He didn't know I had hours of footage showing his "innocent" Aria sleeping with his guards, his rivals, and even his staff, laughing about how easy he was to manipulate.
At the annual charity gala, in front of the entire crime family, Alessandro demanded I apologize to her.
I didn't beg. I didn't cry.
I simply connected my drive to the main projector and pressed play. 99 Roses for the Underboss's Wife
Natala O'neal I was the brilliant money launderer for the most feared syndicate on the East Coast, and the fiercely loyal wife of its Underboss, Dante.
While I worked sleepless nights to build his underworld dominion, he secretly diverted my operations to fund a luxury club for his naive barista mistress.
When I confronted them and publicly exposed her, Dante didn't show a shred of guilt.
Instead, he slapped me across the face in front of the entire syndicate.
He draped his tailored jacket over his crying mistress to shield her, then turned his cold eyes on me.
"Apologize to her right now, or I will send every single soldier in your crew to the slaughterhouse."
He then weaponized the mafia's whisper network to destroy my reputation, painting me as a hysterical, paranoid woman just to legitimize his affair.
For years, I had blindly endured his psychological torture, believing my devotion would eventually earn his respect.
But looking at the brutal purple handprint on my cheek, and the ninety-nine dried bouquets of white roses he kept in the attic to carelessly patch over his toxic abuse, my heart finally turned to ice.
I didn't throw a tantrum, nor did I beg for his love anymore.
I left his apology blood diamonds on the table, drafted my mafia severance papers, and walked out of his territory for good.
This time, I would build my own empire, and let him drown in the ruins of his. Too Late To Beg, Mr. Mafia Don
Tango For two years, I played the perfect, silent wife to Damien Moretti, the ruthless Don of the New York mafia.
But tonight, he threw a thick manila envelope onto our nightstand. It was an annulment.
"Giuliana is back. She's dying, and I am done playing house with you."
His first love had returned, supposedly sick with terminal cancer. He demanded I sign the papers and leave the penthouse immediately so he could rush to her side. He looked at me with absolute disgust, expecting me to break down and beg. When she later staged a fake assassination attempt to frame me, Damien blindly believed her pathetic tears. He dragged me to the hospital, ready to unleash his murderous wrath on me for daring to touch his precious white rose.
I looked at the man I had shared a bed with for two years. He was supposed to be a powerful, calculating leader, yet he was completely blinded by a cheap liar and a forged medical report. He actually thought I was just a weak, greedy socialite who would quietly take the fall.
He had no idea that behind my docile mask, I was 'K', the digital underworld's most elusive hacker.
I calmly signed the papers, took his millions, and pulled the real security footage of his perfectly healthy ex.
At tonight's family dinner, I am going to shatter her fragile facade and make the Don choke on his own stupidity before I walk away for good. The Unwanted Bride Becomes The City's Queen
Breeze 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. 
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