Isis Beutler

14 Published Stories

Isis Beutler's Books and Stories

Too Late, Mr. Don: Your Wife Erased You

Too Late, Mr. Don: Your Wife Erased You

5.0

My husband sat at the head of the table, cutting into his medium-rare steak like a king. To the world, Brendan Wiggins was a legitimate businessman. To me, he was the Mafia Don whose empire I had built brick by digital brick. Then my burner phone vibrated against my thigh. It wasn't a threat from a rival gang. It was a photo of a positive pregnancy test sent by his mistress. I watched a video of him in her apartment—a place he visited while I thought he was working. I heard him tell her, "Ellery is functional. She handles the books. But you’re giving me the legacy. She’s just the furniture I keep to impress guests." He had taken the trauma of the car crash that left me infertile—the crash he caused—and used it to mock me with another woman. He thought I was his broken doll. He thought I was safe because I was dependent on him. He forgot that I was the Architect. I designed the encrypted channels that kept him out of prison. I controlled the offshore accounts. I didn't cry. I simply applied a coat of blood-red lipstick and tapped a dormant script on my smartwatch. While he poured me a glass of wine and called me his "sanctuary," I drained fifty million dollars from his shell companies. I wasn't just leaving. I had an appointment with a black-market neuroscientist to chemically erase my memories. By tomorrow, Brendan wouldn't just be bankrupt; to me, he wouldn't even exist.

Sweet Revenge: Taming The Amnesiac Billionaire CEO

Sweet Revenge: Taming The Amnesiac Billionaire CEO

5.0

Aurora Morgan pushed the divorce papers across the desk to her billionaire husband, Julian Carlisle. Next to the papers lay his black leather journal, opened to a page that had just shattered her three-year marriage. In his crisp handwriting, the cold and untouchable CEO had written: "If I could go back, I would never let her go." Julian didn't explain or deny it. Instead, he tore the divorce papers to shreds, trapped her in her chair, and coldly reminded her that her body, her acting career, and her entire life were completely under his control. When she tried to escape, he forced her into his sports car, driving like a madman through the Manhattan night, threatening that they should just die together. But when a massive truck ran a red light and barreled toward them, Julian unbuckled his seatbelt and threw his body over hers, taking the full, fatal force of the collision. He survived, but the severe brain trauma wiped his memory clean, regressing his mind to that of an innocent sixteen-year-old boy. Looking at the man who had mentally tortured her, cheated on her in his heart, yet sacrificed his life to save hers, Aurora's heart was filled with a terrifying emptiness and bitter resentment. Why did he get to forget his betrayal while she was left to carry the agonizing weight of their broken marriage? And who on earth was the woman in the journal? A wild, vengeful plan formed in her mind. She handed the amnesiac boy a forged contract, looking down at him with a cold, beautiful smile. "Your name is Julian. You are my assistant, and you owe me a massive debt." This time, she was going to be the one in control.

The Unwanted Wife's Ultimate Vengeful Return

The Unwanted Wife's Ultimate Vengeful Return

5.0

Carlota was secretly carrying the child of Donavan Raymond, the most powerful man in New York. To escape his dangerous obsession and save her comatose brother, she entered a fake marriage with a disabled heir. But on her wedding day, her stepsister Harper discovered the secret ultrasound. Realizing the baby belonged to her fiancé Donavan, Harper brutally shoved Carlota into a marble table, murdering the seven-month-old unborn child. Harper and her mother bribed the doctor to lie to Donavan, claiming the dead baby was only five months old. Believing Carlota had cheated, Donavan mocked her broken, bleeding state and abandoned her in the hospital. Her stepmother then forced her to sign divorce papers by threatening to pull the plug on her brother's ventilator. They locked Carlota away, planning to sell her to human traffickers and finally murder her brother. Escaping into the freezing rain, Carlota followed them to a hidden graveyard and uncovered a terrifying, decades-old secret. Her stepmother and stepsister weren't just greedy gold-diggers. They were the family of a disgraced enemy, infiltrating her home for years to systematically poison her real mother and destroy her bloodline out of pure revenge. Kneeling in the mud, Carlota's fear vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating emptiness. She picked up her phone and faked a desperate, terrified sob. "Mom? Please, come get me. I'll do whatever you want." She hung up the phone, a chilling smile spreading across her face as she prepared to crawl back to Donavan and use his absolute power to slaughter them all.

Trapped By The Phantom: His Little Lamb

Trapped By The Phantom: His Little Lamb

5.0

I woke up to the screech of a megaphone and realized I had transmigrated into a YA novel called *Roses Under Thorns*. I wasn't the beloved heroine. I was Chloe Carrillo, a disposable scholarship student whose only purpose was to die in a tragic car crash to advance the plot. Desperate to survive, I tried to become invisible. But fate played a sick joke, making me the roommate of the female lead and drawing the suffocating, obsessive attention of her powerful brother, Dean Gibbs. While desperately avoiding Dean's controlling grasp, my nightmare worsened. An untraceable cyberstalker began hunting me. He called me "Little Lamb." He left a burner phone in my secret library hideout, sent photos of me taken from ceiling vents, and texted me the moment I stepped out of the dorm shower. "The water looks warm. Enjoy your shower." The police couldn't help, and asking Dean meant trading one terrifying cage for another. I didn't understand why this was happening. I was supposed to be a nobody, yet I was trapped in an invisible web, monitored every second of my life. Refusing to be a victim, I tracked down the university's legendary phantom hacker, Ashton Bridges. I handed him my devices, begging him to trace the stalker, thinking I had finally found a safe ally. I didn't know that as soon as the lab door closed behind me, he pulled up a live camera feed of my bedroom, his lips curving into a predatory smile. "Little Lamb, you walked right into my arms."

Reborn To Love My Ruthless Billionaire

Reborn To Love My Ruthless Billionaire

5.0

Jaclyn woke up in the sterile hospital room after falling down the stairs. The nurse delivered the devastating news: she had bled heavily and lost her baby. But before she could even cry, her trusted cousins, Katelyn and Cherri, locked the door and revealed the horrifying truth. "It wasn't an accident," Katelyn smirked, pinning Jaclyn's arm down. "The lubricant on the top step was a very deliberate choice." They needed her broken and unstable. They had forged her signature, draining her massive trust fund to save their uncle's bankrupt business. What shattered Jaclyn's world was the fresh hickey on Cherri's neck. Her lover, Bradford, had helped plan the entire murder. When Jaclyn tried to scream, they smothered her with a pillow, framing her as a lunatic having a mental breakdown. Two weeks later, when she confronted them, Bradford violently shoved her through a second-story glass window to silence her forever. As she fell to her death, the husband she had spent her life hating—the ruthless billionaire Gaines—burst through the doors. He threw himself forward, his face filled with pure terror, desperately trying to catch her. When her body hit the stone patio, Gaines fell to his knees in her blood, weeping and begging her not to close her eyes. Until her last breath, Jaclyn was consumed by suffocating regret. Why did she trust the monsters who killed her, and hate the only man who truly loved her? Opening her eyes again, she was back in the penthouse, exactly one month into her marriage with Gaines.

Breaking The Script: My Billionaire Husband

Breaking The Script: My Billionaire Husband

5.0

I was three million dollars in debt, forced by my agent to star in a reality show as the brainless gold-digger who married a decrepit billionaire. But right before the live broadcast, as I touched the tacky neon dress I was supposed to wear, a violent vision struck my brain. I realized my entire life was a script, and I was just a villainous side character designed to make America's Sweetheart look like a saint. My agent was secretly taking payouts from her PR firm to deliberately ruin my reputation with endless hate traffic. If I followed his orders today, I would be torn apart by the internet, lose every contract, and eventually die alone in a cheap motel. I couldn't accept that my every fake smile and stupid decision had been manipulated to destroy me just to elevate someone else. Why should I let them sell me out and turn my life into a complete joke? Looking at the ugly pink dress, I threw it straight into the trash. "You are fired, and my lawyers will be in touch about your offshore accounts." I poured a glass of freezing water over my head to wash away the heavy makeup and the helpless persona I had worn for years. I kicked out my backstabbing agent, put on a pair of plain black leggings, and walked out to face the live cameras. To hell with the script. Today, I was going to expose this fake PR marriage myself.

Haunted By The Wife He Lost

Haunted By The Wife He Lost

5.0

My husband, Jacob, swore to be my shield after my family's empire collapsed and I survived a fifteen-day kidnapping hell. I saw him as my savior, loving him with a desperation born from trauma. Then his intern, Ema, entered our lives. When I became pregnant, he used her lies to call me "tainted" from my past and demanded I abort our child, the shock causing me to miscarry. The final blow came during an explosion at our training grounds. He shoved me aside to shield Ema with his body. "She's carrying my child," he said, his voice like ice. "You're expendable." He left me to burn, promising a rescue team he never intended to send. But he didn't know about the secret escape route, or my brother's plan. I faked my death, letting him find my "body" in the morgue. He thought he had created a ghost. Now, he's about to find out you can't catch one when she's already free.

Betrayed Heiress: His Public Downfall

Betrayed Heiress: His Public Downfall

5.0

For seven years, I hid my identity as a billionaire heiress to build my boyfriend Derek' s career from the shadows. I designed his award-winning buildings, fixed his mistakes, and waited for the proposal he promised. But at the airport, instead of a ring, he handed me a box of pistachio macarons and ran off to comfort his "fragile" assistant. He smiled, thinking he was being romantic. He had completely forgotten that I am deathly allergic to nuts. That box wasn't a gift. It was a death sentence wrapped in a silk ribbon. Standing at the gate, I finally realized he didn't love me. He only loved the pedestal I built for him. I tossed the macarons in the trash and dialed my father. "I'm coming home," I said. Charlotte Murphy, the submissive girlfriend, died at that terminal. Charlotte Wheeler, the real estate mogul, was born. And when Derek finally tried to crawl back with a microphone and a staged proposal, I made sure his destruction was as public as his audacity.

Forty-Nine Books, One Reckoning

Forty-Nine Books, One Reckoning

5.0

My husband, Arthur, had a pattern. He would cheat, I would find out, and a rare book would appear on my shelf. Forty-nine betrayals, forty-nine expensive apologies. It was a transaction: my silence for a beautiful object. But the forty-ninth was the last straw. He skipped my dying father' s award ceremony-a promise he made while holding his hand-to buy a condo for his high school sweetheart, Juliet. The lie was so casual it broke me more than the affair. Then he took her to my mother' s memorial garden. He stood there while she tried to erect a monument for her dead cat next to my mother' s bench. When I confronted them, he had the nerve to ask me for compassion. "Let's show a little compassion," he said. Compassion for the woman desecrating my mother' s memory. Compassion for the woman he' d told about our miscarriage, a sacred grief he' d shared like a dirty secret. I realized then that this wasn't just about a broken heart. This was about dismantling the lie I helped him build. That night, while he slept, I installed a bug on his phone. I' m a political strategist. I' ve ruined careers with far less. The fiftieth book wouldn't be his apology. It would be my closing statement.

From Captive to Cherished Wife

From Captive to Cherished Wife

5.0

I was at my wedding rehearsal, standing at the altar across from my fiancé, Holden. Our marriage was meant to be the event of the season, a perfect union of two prominent families. Then, his future sister-in-law, Jaidyn, crumpled to the floor. Without a single glance my way, Holden vaulted over a row of chairs, scooped her into his arms, and sprinted out of the hall, leaving me alone and publicly humiliated. Hours later, his voicemail finally came. His voice was thick with emotion, but not for me. He told me Jaidyn has a secret heart condition and has been secretly in love with him for ten years. He said the stress of our wedding was too much for her, and then asked if I could be like a sister to her once we were married. A text followed moments later: "Postponing the wedding. Jaidyn needs me at the hospital." He expected tears. He expected me to wait patiently, to graciously accept being sidelined for his secret admirer. He mistook my love for weakness. But I am Eloise Bowers. My dignity is not something to be discarded. I scrolled past his name and called his older brother, Alphons—the man Jaidyn was supposedly engaged to. "Your brother's wedding is off," I told him, my voice steady and clear. "But the bride is still a Callahan. I'm at the city hall courthouse. You have thirty minutes."

The Husband’s Body, Her Revenge

The Husband’s Body, Her Revenge

5.0

The world came back in a blinding flash, a hospital' s sterile tang assaulting my senses. Then I heard her, my monster-in-law, shrilly wailing over "my poor Jake," oblivious to the horrifying truth. My hand, resting on the hospital sheet, wore Jake' s wedding ring. A cold dread seeped into my bones: I was in my husband' s body. As Brenda' s conspiratorial whisper cut through the fog – "That car accident… it didn' t go as planned. Chloe is still alive…" – my blood ran cold with the chilling realization. The car accident wasn' t an accident. They tried to murder me for an insurance payout. My own husband, the man I loved, had plotted with his family to kill me, his mistress Sarah, and his own mother in on it. A gut-wrenching betrayal twisted inside me, remembering how I' d used my dowry to build his company, how his family had treated me like a servant, and how Jake had dismissed it all. This wasn' t just about money; it was about destroying me. But as a sharp, burning rage ignited within, a vow formed in the depths of Jake' s hospital bed. They wanted to ruin my life? Fine. I would ruin theirs first. I would take back what was mine, using his body to dismantle every single thing he had built. Justice wasn't enough. I wanted revenge.

When the Underdog Rises: Ash's Awakening

When the Underdog Rises: Ash's Awakening

5.0

The last thing I saw was Maverick' s powerful hooves, descending on me. I was back, gasping, the thick scent of magnolias filling my lungs at the Claiming Ceremony – the day my life fell apart. Maverick, the champion I had raised from a foal, trotted straight to Charlotte, nuzzling her hand in a blatant act of public rejection. My father, Richard, placed a hand on my shoulder, his grip tight, announcing, "Charlotte has a special connection. You're the older sister, let her have him. It' s for the good of the family's reputation." The jockey I' d helped sneered, "A champion horse needs a champion rider." Charlotte's friends chimed in with fake sympathy, insisting I was never strong enough, that I would have held him back. The humiliation was a physical weight, but this time, in my second chance, I felt only a cold resolve. My father pushed, trying to salvage his scheme, offering me the sickly, seemingly worthless colt, Ash, in exchange. Everyone pitied the broken girl being cast aside, agreeing I was walking away empty-handed. But kneeling beside Ash, I felt a faint, familiar warmth, a deep connection confirming what I suspected: he was my mother' s true legacy, the horse she had left for me. Charlotte, arrogant in her victory, declared, "Let' s perform the bonding ritual now, so everyone can see the true bond between a rider and her horse." I stood, a slow smile spreading across my face. "I agree."

The Million-Dollar Revenge

The Million-Dollar Revenge

5.0

My name is Sarah Miller, and I'd just hit the lottery for millions—a life-changing sum. I had a loving husband, Mark, his family, and my sweet five-year-old son, Leo. Our Memorial Day road trip to the Blue Ridge Mountains promised a perfect getaway. But a chilling current ran beneath their forced smiles. At a breathtaking scenic overlook, the man I trusted most, my husband Mark, pulled me close. Then he pushed. The air rushed past, a brief, sharp pain, and then, nothing. My spirit, unseen, lingered. I watched my murderers—Mark, his mother Brenda, and his sister Jessica—calmly walk away, plotting to claim my lottery money. But the true horror struck days later: my beloved son, Leo, called another woman "Mom," revealing he was never mine, but Mark's and his mistress Tiffany's. My entire life had been a meticulously crafted lie. My love, a mere pawn in their cruel deception. The fiery pain of this betrayal ignited an inferno of rage and a singular desire: for them to suffer just as agonizingly as I had. Then, darkness. I woke with a gasp to sunlight. The calendar read Memorial Day, the morning of the trip. This wasn't a nightmare; it was a miraculous second chance. An icy resolve hardened my core: They would pay. Every single one of them.

My Husband Is Helplessly Romantic

My Husband Is Helplessly Romantic

5.0

Transferred to the body of a young lady from a noble family. Married a nobleman whom she did not love. The nobleman was foolish but wealthy, and she had planned to wait for him to inherit his fortune. But she did not expect the nobleman to be handsome, kind-hearted, and in love. The original owner of the body was excellent in reading, painting, and embroidery. As for me, I also enjoy reading (The Overbearing CEO Falls in Love with Me), drawing (a few things about pornographic drawings), but embroidery is not my strong suit. The nobleman's hobbies are really... I can't resist them at all!

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Wrong Call, Claimed by the Bratva Boss (Cruel Paradise - A Mafia Romance)

Wrong Call, Claimed by the Bratva Boss (Cruel Paradise - A Mafia Romance)

5.0

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.

From Jilted Bride To Mafia Empress

From Jilted Bride To Mafia Empress

4.4

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."

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.

My Husband Sold Me to the Don

My Husband Sold Me to the Don

5.0

My husband, Hudson Higgins, used my dowry to buy his way into the Chicago underworld while his family treated me like a servant in my own home. I endured their insults for the sake of my five-year-old daughter, Josie. But then, the unthinkable happened. I found Josie's small, lifeless body by the garden fountain, while my sister-in-law Karly and mother-in-law Eleanor stood by, complaining about their party plans. "She was just too naughty," Karly sneered, adjusting her pearls over my dead child. When I turned to Hudson for help, he looked at me with dead eyes and told me it was just her fate. In that moment of absolute grief, I remembered the words of the ruthless Don Damien Falcone: "Your husband is a man who knows how to close a deal." The truth sliced through me like a blade. Hudson hadn't just ignored the Don's interest in me; he had actively sold me to the Devil of Chicago to buy his seat at the table. He let his family punish me for the very sin he committed. I had lost everything-my dignity, my mother, and now my baby-all sacrificed for a man who traded his wife's body for power. The sorrow in my chest evaporated, replaced by a scorching, blinding thirst for a blood vendetta. After lunging at Hudson and feeling the world explode into white, I opened my eyes to find myself back in the winter of 1928. It was the exact night the nightmare began, and Don Damien Falcone was walking toward me in his penthouse. This time, I won't be the broken bird in his gilded cage. If Hudson wants to use me to climb the ranks, I will use the Don's dark obsession to burn the Higgins family to the ground.

Reborn To Love My Outlaw Husband

Reborn To Love My Outlaw Husband

Little Red Riding Hood

5.0

"Once she's finally dead, I want you to take me - right there, in that outlaw President's own bed... promise me, Blaze." Lying in a freezing pool of my own blood, I watched the man I had loved for three years flirt shamelessly with my cousin. Meanwhile, my so-called "best friend" greedily stripped the wedding ring off my bleeding finger. "Take her. Have your fun with her, just don't let that pretty face go to waste," the scumbag sneered, kicking me aside. As a group of tattooed thugs approached with sickening, lustful grins, I was swallowed by absolute, shivering despair. Just as I prepared to bite my own tongue to end it all-a deafening engine roar shattered the night. My husband, the ruthless MC President Axel, the "monster" I had spent my life trying to escape, charged into the hellfire covered in blood. He used his massive frame to shield me from every bullet. With his dying breath, his normally cold eyes held nothing but desperate, humble tenderness. "Don't be afraid... I love you..." When I opened my eyes, I was reborn a year before our fatal fallout. To completely sever ties with the cheating scumbag, I secretly liquidated all my designer assets, transferring the funds into an untraceable offshore account. But the financial report was handed straight to Axel. He forcefully cornered me against the wall, his eyes swirling with a devastating mix of soul-crushing heartbreak and violent obsession as he ruthlessly bit my lip. "Chloe, even if you run to the ends of the earth, I will drag you back in chains!" he growled, his voice hoarse and his eyes red. "But from tonight on... until I see your lover's corpse with my own eyes, don't you ever try to touch me again." I wrapped my arms tightly around his solid waist from behind, my small hands slipping under his half-open leather jacket to trace the hard lines of his tense abs. Feeling his massive body instantly freeze into stone, I stood on my toes and whispered breathily against his ear: "Okay. But before you kill him... hubby, don't you want to come back to bed and fulfill your duties as my husband first?"

The Underboss's Obsession: Stealing The Bride

The Underboss's Obsession: Stealing The Bride

5.0

Three days before the wedding. I was hiding in the dressing room, watching my fiancé caress the swollen belly of another woman. Luca, the man who had saved my life five years ago, was smiling at his mistress, Sofia. But the real knife to the heart wasn't the affair—it was the dress. The custom wedding gown he had "lovingly" ordered for me featured intricate silver embroidery along the hem. It didn't spell Elena. It read Sofia. He was planning to make me walk down the aisle wearing his mistress's name. Later that night, I found a video of him mocking me to his crew, calling me a "dead fish" and admitting he only wanted my family's Capo status. He planned to keep his "true love" on the side while I played the role of the oblivious, ornamental wife. He thought I was just a sheltered princess. He forgot that my bloodline was built on vengeance. I didn't cry. I didn't confront him. Instead, I scrubbed his scent off my skin and dialed a number everyone in Chicago feared. "The pact with the Cavallaro family," I asked my father, my voice cold as stone. "Is it still valid?" "Dante is the Underboss now," my father warned. "He is a butcher. He breaks men for sport." "Good," I replied. "I am done playing with boys." I secretly booked the Gold Ballroom across the hall from my original venue. Luca thought he was walking into a marriage on Saturday. He didn't know I was bringing a monster to the altar instead.

His Obsession, My Revenge: A Mafia Second Life

His Obsession, My Revenge: A Mafia Second Life

5.0

I woke up in the tangled black silk sheets of the Mafia Don's bed, my skin still burning from his ruthless touch in the dark. The heavy door burst open, and his pristine wife, Bianca, looked at my bruised collarbones with visceral hatred. Instead of having me killed for soiling her husband's bed, she offered a devil's bargain. "You will take my place in his bed. You will be a shadow in the dark." In my past life, I foolishly accepted, thinking her money would pay for my dying mother's hospital bills. I didn't realize the untouchable Mafia Queen was barren and just needed a disposable incubator. After I endured the Don's violent possession and birthed the Moretti heir, they cut off my mother's medicine. Then, they dragged me to a remote warehouse and suffocated me with a wet mattress to bury their dirty secret forever. Until my last agonizing breath, I didn't understand why my absolute submission and suffering were rewarded with such a brutal, meaningless death. Opening my eyes again, I was back on the morning after the Don first claimed me. I knelt on the Persian rug, weeping tears of fake gratitude as Bianca handed me the cash. But the moment my escort looked away, I didn't take her fertility herbs. I bought a bitter root from an alley witch to keep my womb empty. This time, I won't give the Don a child. I'll become his darkest obsession, and use his lethal power to burn this entire family to the ground.

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Dorine Koestler

4.3

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.

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 My Family, Desired By The Mafia

Rejected By My Family, Desired By The Mafia

5.0

Camille Laurent was stolen at birth. Swapped by a greedy nanny, abandoned without a second thought, and erased from her rightful place in one of the most powerful families in the country. While the real heiress struggled to survive, the nanny's daughter, Talia, was raised in luxury as the beloved jewel of the Laurent family, pampered by Camille's parents, adored by her three brothers, and even promised to the prestigious Matteo Devereux through a childhood engagement arranged by their grandparents. Then the truth came out. Six months ago, Camille was finally brought back to the Laurent family. To protect the family reputation and prove their devotion to their bloodline, the Laurent patriarch transferred 35% of his personal shares into Camille's name overnight, instantly making her one of the wealthiest heiresses in the country. It brought anxiety to all the Laurent family. But what they don't know.is that Camille never needed them. Behind her elegant smile lies a woman filled with secrets powerful enough to shake the whole family. She's a miraculous healer capable of curing the incurable poisons. Yet despite everything, her family still chooses Talia. Every accusation against Talia is forgiven. Every scheme against Camille is brushed aside. Even Matteo, the man who was supposed to be Camille's fiancé-cannot let go of the woman he always believed belonged by his side. But while the Laurent family underestimates Camille, another man begins to see exactly who she is. Dante Moretti. The ruthless heir of an old-money dynasty. A billionaire CEO worshipped by the public.and the merciless king of a criminal empire hidden beneath the city's glittering surface. When Dante is poisoned by a rival syndicate with a deadly toxin no doctor can cure, he offers a fortune for anyone who can save him. Only Camille can. Their deal is simple: she becomes his personal physician, and he gives her anything she wants.