Lana Adler
2 Published Stories
Lana Adler's Books and Stories
Mafia King's First Love
Mafia Elizabeth Taylor gave Sofia Roth a subtle nod, as if to calm her, before turning her full attention to Cloe. Her gaze was sharp, unforgiving.
"This is not your home, Cloe."
The words slammed into Cloe like a blow, knocking the air from her lungs. She froze, her body stiffening as the weight of the moment settled over her. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
Elizabeth cut her off, her voice like a blade slicing through Cloe's hope. "Meet Ethan's fiancée, Sofia."
The words hit Cloe like a thunderclap, a shock so violent it felt as if lightning had struck her to the core. Her body stiffened, her eyes wide, her heart pounding so loud it echoed in her ears. Fiancée? Ethan's fiancée?
Her eyes darted to Sofia, who stepped forward with a cruel smile, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "Yes. Fiancée. I'm pregnant with Ethan's child."
Cloe's world shattered. The words slammed into her with the force of a thousand storms, and she staggered backward as if physically struck. Her knees buckled, her hands clutching her chest, her breathing shallow and ragged. Pregnant? With Ethan's child?
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Cloe was not ready to give up. So she received a sex tape from Sofia Roth.
A sex Tape
The man's face was deliberately obscured, lying back on the bed, while Sofia's naked body moved atop him, her large breasts bouncing as she rode him with exaggerated enthusiasm.
Sofia's face, however, was clear. Her eyes locked onto the camera with an unmistakable awareness of what she was doing. Her moans were loud, theatrical, and filled with purpose. She threw her head back, calling out, "Oh, Ethan... love it, babe."
The hands of the man beneath her, though blurred and devoid of identity, reached up to grip Sofia's breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers. Sofia's moans grew louder, her voice filled with pleasure as she called out again, "Ethan, baby... you're the best."
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Three years later.
She stepped cautiously into her apartment, her heart racing as she noticed the dark figure seated on the living room sofa. The shadows of the room made it hard to make out who it was. Her breath caught in her throat as she instinctively gripped her bag tighter.
"Who's there?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
The figure stirred, slowly rising to his feet. Ethan, unable to believe his eyes, stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest. It was her. Cloe-his Cloe-right there in front of him. The woman he had thought lost forever.
She took a step forward, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Who are you?" she asked again, her voice firmer now.
Ethan felt like the world had stopped moving. The woman standing before him, looking at him as if he were a stranger-how could she not know? His emotions collided within him, confusion, shock, and an overwhelming sense of longing. "I... I am your husband," he managed to say, his voice hoarse with disbelief.
She froze, her face contorting in shock. "My husband?" she repeated, disbelief lacing her words. She took a step back, her confusion deepening. "Who are you? And what kind of joke is this?"
She refused to recognize him. 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. 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. 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.