Hei Baidong
14 Published Stories
Hei Baidong's Books and Stories
His Vow Broke, Her Empire Woke
Mafia 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. Rejected by the Mafia Don, Claimed by His Rival
Mafia For eight years, I was raised to be his queen. My entire world was built on the promise that I would marry Dante Moretti, the future Don of the city's most powerful family.
But on the eve of our betrothal, I overheard his plan. He was going to cast me aside for another woman, Isabella, and a street orphan he would pass off as his heir.
He publicly humiliated me at his party, introducing her as his true queen. When a crystal chandelier fell from the ceiling, he used his own body to shield her, leaving me to be crushed beneath it.
Later, after falsely accusing me of attacking her, he shoved my head under the freezing water of a pool, hissing that my love for him was "disgusting."
But the truth that finally destroyed me was worse. For ten years, Dante had been obsessed with a scent he thought was mine. It was all a lie—a custom perfume Isabella had been wearing all along. I was never the one he wanted; I was just a case of mistaken identity.
After he broke my bones and shattered my spirit, I finally made a choice. I accepted my brother's offer to escape to the rival Falcone territory. As our jet prepared for takeoff, I blocked Dante's frantic calls without looking back. This time, I was leaving for good. The Ghost Surgeon: My Ruthless Ex's Obsession
Modern I was balancing four pitchers of watery beer when my phone buzzed with a photo of my cousin flaunting a massive pink diamond on the hand of my ex-fiancé.
Jennings Bowen didn't just break our engagement; his family stripped away my medical scholarship and branded me a "reputational liability," leaving me to scrub grease in a Queens dive bar.
When Jennings walked into my bar with the arrogance of old money, my alcohol-fueled rage took over, and I ended up vomiting all over his handmade Italian leather shoes.
He didn't just have me arrested; he baited my younger brother, Leo, into a fight and had him charged with felony assault.
"He’s nineteen, Bronwyn. We’ll bury him," Jennings whispered at the precinct, while his mother ensured no lawyer in the city would touch our case.
With a fifty-thousand-dollar bail I couldn't pay and an eviction notice on my door, I was backed into a corner with absolutely nothing left to lose.
I couldn't understand why these people were so obsessed with crushing someone who was already down, or how they could sleep at night while destroying a teenager's life.
I realized then that playing by their rules wouldn't save Leo, so I dug out the set of black ceramic scalpels I had hidden under my bed for five years.
I wasn't just a waitress or a failed student; I was "The Ghost," a surgeon who operated in the shadows where the law couldn't follow.
I marched to the gates of the Phelps estate, the home of the billionaire father who abandoned me, ready to trade his life for my brother's freedom.
"I'm here to save you," I told the dying man as his family watched in horror. "But the price is my brother’s life, and you’re going to pay it." Marrying His Rival: The Jilted Wife's Sweet Revenge
Modern "Her blood type is a match. It’s the only option."
I froze outside the conference room door, the quarterly reports digging into my ribs.
I knew that voice. It was Ben, my husband’s best friend and doctor. But the next voice, cold and devoid of warmth, shattered my world.
"Then we do it," my husband Ethan said. "Chloe cannot wait any longer. If Ava is the match, then Ava is the solution."
For the past month, Ethan had been obsessed with my health, insisting on daily "vitamins" and endless checkups. He called it love.
Standing in that hallway, I realized he was actually shopping for spare parts.
"She is your wife, Ethan," Ben argued weakly. "You can't just harvest her like a crop."
"She became my wife because she was useful," Ethan replied, his indifference cutting deeper than any scalpel. "Now, she can be useful for this."
The realization hit me with the force of a physical blow. The nausea I’d been feeling wasn't stress.
I was pregnant.
And those "vitamins" he fed me every morning? They weren't supplements. They were poisons designed to ensure I remained a viable donor.
He was killing his own child to save his mistress.
To him, I wasn't a partner. I was livestock. An asset to be liquidated for parts.
I didn't burst into the room. I didn't scream.
I walked away in silence, my hand hovering over my stomach.
He wanted my kidney? He wanted to carve me up?
I decided right then. I wouldn't just leave.
I would terminate the pregnancy, fake my death, and burn his entire world to the ground. The Price of a Perfect Lie
Billionaires My husband, the real estate magnate Gregory Thompson, had a five-year affair and a secret son. When the scandal broke, he went on national television, his face a mask of sorrow. He swore I was the only woman he had ever truly loved and that he would spend the rest of his life earning back my trust. I believed him.
That belief shattered tonight at a charity gala. I saw him speaking quietly with his mistress, Holly, and overheard their conversation.
"The stupid bitch actually believed you," she whispered.
Gregory chuckled. "Of course she did. It's what makes her so easy to handle." He promised Holly that he would break me slowly, first my heart, then my spirit, until the Thompson fortune belonged to her and their son.
The champagne glass slipped from my fingers, shattering on the marble floor. My perfect marriage was an elaborate, cruel lie. Across the room, his eyes met mine, not with panic, but with cold calculation. He took the microphone and proposed a toast to me, his "beautiful wife," the "light of his life."
The room erupted in applause for the devoted husband. I saw a monster hiding in plain sight. He leaned in close as I stood beside him on stage, his lips brushing my ear.
"Smile, darling. The whole world is watching."
I smiled as my world burned to the ground. But as soon as the ceremony ended, I slipped away and booked the first flight out of the city. I had to escape. Love's Redemption: A Second Chance
Romance The city lights blurred, mirroring the chaos inside me. It was supposed to be our night, the gala where Jake, my fiancé, finally got recognition for a project built on my designs. But he was on stage, smiling under the bright lights, with my sister, Chloe, clinging to his arm.
Just moments before, backstage, Chloe had stepped out of the shadows, a smug smile on her face. "He's with me now, sis." My world tilted. "The Skyline project… that was my work, Jake!" He had the nerve to look sad. "Ava, I took your concepts and improved them. I made them viable."
I rushed to my parents' house for comfort, but found none. My father, with cold anger, declared, "Jake Peterson is now the most promising young architect in the city. And your sister is by his side. You made a scene. You embarrassed us." My mother dismissed my pain: "Chloe has always been better with people. This was bound to happen." My father added, "The Petersons are an old-money family. This connection is important for our business. You will not jeopardize that with your whining."
It wasn't just Jake and Chloe. It was my own family, betraying me without a second thought. "They ruined me," I cried, "And you're worried about being embarrassed?" Their response was a brutal slap: "It's your own fault. You were always too trusting."
I was completely alone, in the house I grew up in, a stranger in my own home. My career, my reputation, my love-all were gone. But then, a phone call. Jake, with fake sincerity, invited me to a dinner to show "no hard feelings." My response: "I have one condition. The engagement ring. I'll bring it to the dinner. I want to give it back to you in person." It wasn't just an ending; it was an exorcism. His Other Woman, My Broken Heart
Romance It was our third wedding anniversary, and I sat alone at a dinner table set for two, a positive pregnancy test clutched in my hand.
I' d imagined telling Ethan a thousand times, picturing his joy, the final piece of our life together clicking into place.
But then headlights swept across the living room window, and relief turned to ice as I watched him help Chloe, his college sweetheart and the ghost of our marriage, out of the passenger door.
I knew, in that single, shattering moment, that it was over.
Chloe had waltzed back into our lives months ago, claiming heartbreak, and Ethan had swallowed it whole, canceling our plans to "cheer her up."
Now, she was in our living room, draped on our couch, with Ethan stroking her hair, a tenderness he hadn't shown me in months.
He accused me of being selfish for pointing out it was our anniversary, twisting our wedding vows into a weapon against me, defending Chloe with a venom I' d never seen directed at myself.
The fight left me, all hope draining away as I realized the man I loved was gone, replaced by a stranger who saw me with annoyance and disdain.
Then Chloe, with a smirk, told me I was just a placeholder, sending a photo of Ethan asleep in a hotel room, a kiss mark on his neck, sealing my fate.
My world went silent, the brutal truth hitting me: I had never stood a chance against her, the great love of his life.
I found the hidden divorce papers, a secret escape hatch he'd prepared, and signed my name.
When he finally stumbled in, smelling of whiskey and her perfume, I showed him the photo, and then he left again, for her, leaving me to pick up the shattered pieces of my life.
I was done being the quiet, steady one, the convenient wife.
I called my best friend, Sarah, determined to leave, ready to protect the tiny, secret life growing inside me from this poison. No More Secrets: The Agent's Redemption
Horror Five years of silence, a ghost in Eastern Europe for the CIA, and all I dreamt of was coming home to my husband and our daughter.
My handler gave me a burner phone, a sliver of connection to the life I' d left.
With trembling hands, I tapped into my home security feed, desperate for a glimpse of them.
The flickering screen showed my elderly, stroke-ridden mother being slapped and force-fed spoiled mush.
Then, my eight-year-old daughter, Molly, on her hands and knees.
"Lick it up, you little brat," the nanny, Jennifer, sneered, kicking Molly, forcing her to clean spilled food off the marble floor.
My blood ran cold, a primal scream trapped in my throat.
I stormed through the door, only to be branded an intruder by Jennifer and her mother, Debra.
My husband, Matthew, paralyzed by his manipulative mother Rosalynn' s control, watched as I was humiliated and assaulted in my own living room.
They beat me, in front of my daughter, in the very house I' d fought to protect.
How could the life I sacrificed everything for have become this twisted nightmare, where I was a stranger, an outcast in my own home?
Just as despair threatened to consume me, a fleet of black SUVs swarmed the property, and my CIA handler, Andrew Blakely, walked in.
He held up a tablet, and the unedited footage of my mother and daughter' s abuse began to play on our living room TV. The Debt Collector's Wife
Romance My life was a carefully constructed story, and I was its star.
Elara Caldwell, the graceful "American Princess" adored by the public.
An investigative journalist, married to rising Congressman Julian, our life was a perfect Georgetown fairytale.
Seven months pregnant, I believed I had it all.
Then, one quiet night, a live stream from Julian's "charity poker game" changed everything.
He wasn't betting money with senators and lobbyists.
He was betting "the exclusive rights to a dossier. Kompromat. On my wife."
My name, my life, was being auctioned off.
He planned to leak fabricated dirt, declare me mentally unstable, seize my assets, and gain full custody of our unborn son.
His chilling motive: "This is for Scarlett. It's time to collect the debt."
Julian returned home, his face a perfect mask of affection, while taunting texts and media alerts painted me as unraveling.
He forced sedatives on me, trapping me in our "perfect" home.
The immense stress became a physical weight, and I collapsed in the nursery.
I woke up in a sterile hospital room, my hand flying to a now-flat stomach.
Our baby was gone.
Through the slightly ajar door, I heard Julian' s furious voice, not grieving, but raging about political timing, eager to spin my tragedy for his gain.
His "love" was a practiced act, his ambition a poison.
I was not his wife; I was a placeholder.
My unborn son, a final payment in a twisted game I never knew I was playing.
The tears stopped.
An icy resolve settled within me, replacing the hollow emptiness.
I looked at the monster masquerading as my loving husband.
And I began to plan. Jilted Bride, Billionaire's Wife
Romance My rehearsal dinner was meant to be the perfect prelude to marrying Silicon Valley' s golden boy, Ethan Hayes.
The chandeliers of the Rosewood Ballroom cast a warm glow, but a sudden, sickening thud extinguished all light in my world.
Ethan dramatically slipped, hitting his head, and when his eyes fluttered open, he looked straight at me, his fiancée, with chilling non-recognition.
"Who are you?" he asked, sealing my fate and public humiliation.
My world crumbled around me as "transient global amnesia" became the official diagnosis, conveniently erasing me from his memory.
My own assistant, Chloe Vance, became his unwavering shadow, her public concern masking an undeniable triumph only I could see.
The wedding summarily postponed, I was left to contend with the cruel whispers that followed me everywhere: "He faked it," "She wasn't good enough."
I became a ghost in my own life, a pariah in Silicon Valley, branded as "the girl whose fiancé conveniently forgot her."
Was his amnesia truly an accident, or was it a meticulously orchestrated betrayal, planned with Chloe, to destroy my life for her own ambition?
This agonizing question haunted my every waking moment, fueling a silent despair deep within me.
Five years later, having quietly rebuilt myself and secretly married the formidable tech titan Liam Knight, I unexpectedly faced Ethan and Chloe again.
Their arrogant smiles and disdain were still sharp, but so was my strength, forged in the fires of past betrayal.
This time, our paths crossing wasn't a tragedy, but the precise moment for an unforeseen reckoning. The Queen They Discarded
Fantasy For years, I lived a quiet life as Sarah, deeply in love with Beau Harrison, tirelessly helping him and his brother Clay rise through the ranks.
I poured my heart into a protective Woven Ward for Beau, believing we were building a beautiful, shared future towards our sacred Haven.
My Cinderheart sister, Ashlyn, found her own love with Clay, and our gentle Shadowfox, Whisper, curled at our feet, a constant comfort.
Then, a knock on the door shattered our world into a million pieces.
Clay stood there with a smug Crystal Thorne, his voice chilling as he callously abandoned Ashlyn.
Crystal brazenly demanded Ashlyn's very essence, her Spirit-Spark, for her own selfish ascension.
But the true horror struck when she casually confessed they' d already murdered Whisper, harvesting his spark for Crystal' s gain.
Ashlyn' s raw scream tore through the cabin as untamed flames erupted around her, shedding her disguise like a burning cloak before she rocketed away in a desperate escape.
My heart was a burning stone of grief and rage.
Moments later, Beau arrived, his face a stranger' s, summarily dismissing our love as he told me I was too "gentle" and "unambitious" for the Haven.
He stood there with Crystal, expecting me to hand over my own Spirit-Spark after witnessing my beloved sister' s torments and our innocent pet' s murder.
How could they be so utterly blind, so incredibly callous?
They saw only Sarah, the soft woman they thought weak and easily discarded.
They had no idea I, Scarlett, held the keys to the very divine realm they craved, no idea about the Guardian Spirit they had just so heinously betrayed.
But their triumph would be short-lived, their stolen glory a trap.
A cold resolve solidified in my core; my own vengeful plan was already set in motion.
With a feigned, heartbroken resignation, I handed Beau the Woven Ward again, knowing it was now not a gift, but a tether ensuring their destined fall.
"Oh, I' ll be there," I whispered, as Sarah was irrevocably gone, and Scarlett, the ancient Guardian, returned, ready to make them pay. The Vanderbilt Vendetta
Romance For nine years, my life as Mrs. Ethan Vanderbilt was a gilded cage, perfect on the outside.
Inside, it was a daily torment of his cheating, gaslighting, and relentless cruelty.
Then came the divorce papers-not just another empty threat, but grotesque terms that demanded I serve his pregnant mistress, Brittany.
He even snatched my mother's heirloom ring to give to her.
Brittany, emboldened, then deliberately ran me over with a car, causing a devastating miscarriage.
Ethan's response?
A shrug.
Later, he forced me to undergo surgery to provide skin for her minor scratches.
My body and spirit were being systematically broken.
The pain, the dehumanization, the monstrous audacity of it all was suffocating.
How could anyone be so calculatingly cruel?
He had taken everything-my music, my unborn child, my mother's last token, even my flesh.
But he didn't know I had secretly reconnected with his older brother, James, my quiet protector from years past.
He didn't know about the hidden prenuptial clause, nor the bakery shares I'd rediscovered-my leverage.
And he definitely didn't know James's flight was booked, with a promise: "City Hall, 4 PM. Be ready."
This wasn't the end of me; it was the beginning of his downfall. Sister's Shadow, Brother's Betrayal
Young Adult My mom' s cough was a constant reminder: ace everything, win that scholarship, or her medical bills would drown us. A top university was my only shot.
But then, Jake gave me a "good luck" bracelet before the physics exam. I aced it, naturally. Except, my score came back a C-. Jake' s? An A+.
"Coincidence," I thought, until I overheard Maya, my best friend since kindergarten, admit she'd gotten Jake the 'Swapper's Charm'-a cursed trinket designed to steal my success and bind me.
That charm wasn't just stealing grades; it was destroying my life. My GPA plummeted, scholarships vanished, and I was forced to take the fall for a vandalized science project.
Suddenly, I was a pariah, jobless, beaten within an inch of my life. Maya, the 'sister' I trusted, abandoned me for Jake, even poisoning my sick mother against me. My mom ended up in the ER, her fragile health shattered by the stress they inflicted.
How could the girl who called me 'family' orchestrate such calculated cruelty? How could the friend I considered a brother betray me so completely?
My life, my entire future, was crumbling around me, sacrificed for their ambition, all while a bizarre, cursed bracelet tightened its hold. Was this magic real, or was I losing my mind?
But lying in the hospital, watching my mother fight for her life, a cold resolve settled in my gut. I had been their sacrifice, their pawn.
With the help of a mysterious street vendor, I learned how to break the charm' s hold-and how to make its twisted magic boomerang. They wanted my success? Fine. Now, they' d get a taste of their own cursed medicine. You might like
Rejected by the Son, I Chose the Don
Rabbit On my wedding day, my father sold me to the Chicago Outfit to pay his debts. I was supposed to marry Alex Moreno, the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. But he couldn't even be bothered to show up.
As I stood alone at the altar, humiliated, my best friend delivered the final blow. Alex hadn't just stood me up; he had run off to California with his mistress.
The whispers in the cathedral turned me into a joke. I was damaged goods, the rejected bride. His family knew the whole time and let me take the public fall, offering me his cousins as pathetic replacements-a brute who hated me or a coward who couldn't protect me.
The humiliation burned away my fear, leaving only cold rage. My life was already over, so I decided to set the whole game on fire myself. The marriage pact only said a Carlson had to marry a Moreno; it never said which one.
With nothing left to lose, I looked past the pathetic boys they offered.
I chose the one man they never expected.
I chose his father, the Don himself.
My Husband's Brother Owns My Secret
Rabbit My marriage to Joshua Caldwell was a prison sentence. I was a Hartman trophy, sold to the powerful family who had destroyed mine.
Then I discovered he was cheating. His mistress was pregnant with the child he denied me, and he was stealing my secret song lyrics to build her career. When I confronted him, he called me a spineless liability and threatened to destroy what was left of my family.
To make matters worse, a one-night stand with a stranger turned out to be with my husband's brother, Anthony Caldwell-the Don of the city. He knew all of Joshua's secrets and used them to trap me in a twisted game, seeing me as nothing more than an asset.
They both thought I was a broken doll they could control.
I wrote a song for his mistress, a beautiful execution with a single, impossible note I knew would destroy her voice.
She sang it, and now her career is over.
Now the Don has summoned me to Chicago, not knowing the woman he thinks is his asset is the one who just burned his brother's world to the ground. Burned by Poison, Saved by the Devil
Gale Kaaya My cousin Hailey paid a dock worker to assault me just to ruin my engagement.
To survive the military-grade aphrodisiac she poisoned me with, I stumbled into a walk-in freezer and threw myself onto the only source of cold I could find-a man paralyzed by unnatural hypothermia.
It was a desperate, primal exchange of my heat for his ice just to keep my heart from stopping.
But when Hailey threw open the heavy iron door, leading my fiancé and the entire Bolton family to witness my "shame," her triumphant grin instantly vanished.
She hadn't caught me with a low-life thug.
She had caught me straddling Demetrius Maddox, the ruthless Iron King of Chicago.
The air in the room dropped to absolute zero. My grandmother screamed in horror, and my father turned the color of ash.
Hailey, blinded by jealousy, tried to double down. She pointed a manicured finger at the deadliest man in the city and called him a "nameless muscle" I picked up to defile the family name.
She didn't realize she had just signed her own death warrant.
I didn't cower. I realized this was the only chance to survive the family that wanted me dead.
I walked up to the Devil himself, my body still humming with the poison, and looked him in the eye.
"Kill me, and the cold inside you wins," I whispered, knowing he was dying from the inverse of my own poison. "I am the only doctor who knows how to cure you."
Demetrius tightened his hand around my throat, his dark eyes assessing my worth.
"Prove it," he growled.
I turned back to my trembling cousin and signaled the enforcer to hand me the whip. To Ruin Him, I Married His Rival
Rabbit Andrew Hebert, the man who promised to protect me, stood on a stage and announced his engagement to my tormentor. It wasn't just heartbreak; it was a business deal. He was selling me to a creditor to cover his gambling debts.
The applause of the powerful families was a death sentence, each clap sealing my fate as collateral. Andrew had paraded me here just to show everyone I was an asset to be liquidated, while his new fiancée smirked at me from the stage.
I was trapped, with no money and no one to turn to. The man I loved was leading me to the slaughter.
But as I fled into the library, a voice emerged from the shadows, deep and dangerous.
Damien Maddox. The Dark Don. The only man Andrew feared.
He offered me a different kind of cage, one with the power to burn Andrew's world to the ground.
With nothing left to lose, I looked the devil in the eyes.
"Take me with you." Betrayed, I Married the Feared Cripple
Hu Minxue Three days after my fiancé publicly dumped me for my stepsister, the Supreme Don issued a command that silenced the entire estate.
I wasn't being cast aside. I was being sold to Damien Russo.
The "Broken Don." A crippled, scarred monster rumored to have murdered his last two wives.
My adoptive mother, Elena, didn't cry for me. She smirked.
To her, I was finally being disposed of.
She was so confident I was walking to my death that she decided to loot my corpse before I even left.
She forged documents to steal my entire inheritance—my biological mother’s trust fund—to pay for my stepsister’s lavish wedding to my ex.
"She won't need money where she's going," my stepsister laughed, wearing a dress bought with my stolen funds.
They thought they were sending a lamb to the slaughter.
They thought I was too weak, too stupid, and too afraid of the monster to fight back.
But they made a fatal mistake.
With my aunt’s help, I didn't just find the proof of their embezzlement; I found a weapon.
I’m not running from the monster. I’m going to marry him.
And when I hand him the evidence that the Herrera family stole from his bride, he won't be my executioner.
He will be my vengeance. Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles
Dorine Koestler I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved.
He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again.
"Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports.
For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian.
In return, he treated me like furniture.
He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste.
I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home.
So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco.
I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage.
But I underestimated Dante.
When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat.
He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away. Reborn, I Wed the Untamed Playboy
Bone Possolo On my wedding day to Julian Moretti, the future Mafia Don, I was deliberately sent to the wrong penthouse.
My half-sister Sofia had crawled into my fiancé's bed, leaving me to be discovered by the family's exiled, alcoholic cousin.
In my past life, I was shattered by this orchestrated betrayal. I cried and begged when Julian publicly humiliated me, choosing his illegitimate mistress over his rightful bride.
I played the perfect, dignified Mafia wife for years. I swallowed his insults, ignored his infidelities, and accepted my ruined reputation to keep the peace.
But my blind obedience only paved the way for my murder. Julian discarded me, and I was poisoned to death so Sofia could steal my crown as the Mafia Queen.
Until my agonizing last breath, I didn't understand. I had honored our families' blood alliance flawlessly.
Why was I the sacrificial lamb while they were rewarded for their treason?
Opening my eyes again, I was back on the dark leather sofa, suffocating in my heavy silk wedding dress.
This time, I didn't shed a single tear.
I grabbed a heavy brass letter opener, marched straight into the Don's main study, and slapped the Underboss across the face in front of the entire family.
"A Valdez woman does not share her husband," I declared coldly. "To honor the alliance, I will marry Dante."
If they wanted to make my humiliation a fact, I was going to make it a funeral. My Cold Heart: Rejecting The Mafia Boss
Jia Zhong My husband, the Outfit’s most feared Consigliere, stood up and buttoned his suit jacket.
He had just convinced a jury that Sofia Moretti was innocent.
But we both knew the truth: Sofia had poisoned my mother over a spilled martini on her Valentino dress.
Instead of comforting me, Dante looked at me with cold, dead eyes.
"If you make a scene," he whispered, gripping my arm until it bruised, "I will bury you in a psychiatric ward so deep even God won't find you."
To protect the Family alliance, he sacrificed his wife.
When I tried to fight back, he drugged me at a gala.
He let a private investigator take photos of me, naked and unconscious, just to have leverage to keep me silent.
He paraded Sofia around our penthouse, letting her wear my dead mother’s shawl while I was banished to the staff quarters.
He thought he had broken me.
He thought I was just a nurse’s daughter he could manage.
But he made a fatal error.
He didn't read the "committal forms" I handed him to sign.
They were divorce papers, transferring his assets to me.
And the night of the yacht party, while he toasted to his victory with my mother's killer, I left my wedding ring on the deck.
I didn't jump to die.
I jumped to be reborn.
And when I resurfaced, I made sure Dante Russo burned for every sin. The Bastard Bride's Vow of Mafia Vengeance
Anywho My father arranged a marriage for my half-sister, Emmalee, with Don Damian Griffith, the ruthless "King of New York." But Emmalee, in love with a penniless lawyer, refused and, weeping, pointed at me, the illegitimate daughter, offering me as the sacrifice.
My stepmother packed cheap plastic pearls and copper chains, and my father coldly told me to "bleed quietly" if the Don decided to cut me.
"Don't think you've won, Isabell," Emmalee hissed, handing me a shimmering emerald gown, the signature color of the Don's volatile mistress-a clear death trap. Why did my own family want me dead?
As the armored car pulled away, I dumped the green silk, put on a dress of pure ivory, and fastened our family's stolen midnight-blue sapphires around my neck. They thought they were sending a lamb to the slaughter, but I was walking into the lion's den with a hidden blade.
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