Miss Demeanor
17 Published Stories
Miss Demeanor's Books and Stories
She Returned: A Mafia Boss’s Nightmare
Mafia The man who swore he would burn the world down for me has been married to another woman for three years. I found out the day I was finally discharged from the Swiss clinic he'd sent me to.
I flew home to surprise him, only to discover my release was a year overdue. He had forged my medical reports, painting me as a fragile, broken thing just to keep me locked away while he built a new life.
His new wife, Isabella, hit me with her car. He defended her, calling me hysterical. She stole my art portfolio and claimed it as her own, and he forced me to take the blame to protect his family's reputation.
She even killed her own puppy to frame me. While I jumped into a freezing river to retrieve my father's medallion that she'd thrown in, he stood on the terrace pointing out a meteor shower to her.
The final betrayal came when Isabella faked her own kidnapping and named me as the culprit.
I didn't understand. This was Dante Moretti, the Devil of the East Coast, my guardian, the man who had sworn to be my shield. Why was he letting this woman destroy me piece by piece?
Believing I was the kidnapper, he had me tied to a helicopter, dragged across a field, and left me for dead. But I didn't die. I survived. Five years later, I have a new name, a new life, and a husband who loves me. And today, I just ran into Dante on the street. He looked at me like he'd seen a ghost. Reborn Heiress: My Family's Bitter Karma
Fantasy On my eighteenth birthday, the celestial pact hiding my aura finally expired. I stood on the rotting steps of the trailer, watching my foster family celebrate my eviction like they’d won the lottery. Brenda threw a liability waiver at me to sign, ensuring I’d never ask for a dime of their welfare checks again. Worse, her daughter Regina stood there smirking, flaunting the heirloom emerald bracelet she’d stolen from my secret stash—unaware it was a spiritual artifact soaked in fifty years of blood magic. "Consider it payment for room and board, freak," Regina sneered, forcing the silver band over her wrist. They thought they were discarding a burden. They didn't realize I was the only dam holding back a tidal wave of their own bad karma. As I signed the papers, voluntarily severing our ties, the air pressure plummeted. The bracelet began to constrict like a snake, turning Regina’s flesh a necrotic purple as the protection I offered vanished. Before they could scream, a matte black helicopter bearing the Sterling Industries crest descended onto the muddy lawn, blowing their plastic lawn chairs into the neighbor's yard. A man in a bespoke charcoal suit stepped out, ignoring the filth to bow before me. He looked at my terrified foster family and announced, "We are here to retrieve the Sterling heiress." I smiled at Regina, whose arm was already beginning to rot, and whispered, "Keep the bracelet. You'll need it to pay for the amputation." Unwanted Wife's Ultimate Vengeance
Modern I married Edwardo Steele out of a debt of honor, secretly loving the man who treated me like a contaminant. For three years, he weaponized his severe OCD against me, recoiling from my touch while I walked on eggshells in our cold, sterile mansion. My foolish hope for love died the night I saw him at a hotel fire, holding his mistress, Cassie, with a tenderness I had never known.
He didn't just cheat; he destroyed me. He framed my brother, leaving him permanently disabled, all to protect her. Then, at Cassie's birthday party, he played our private video for everyone to see, a final, public humiliation.
The man I sacrificed everything for had chosen a liar over me, and I was left with nothing but shame and a broken family.
But in the depths of my despair, I discovered two things.
First, I was pregnant with his child. Second, my brother had found a secret that could bring Edwardo's empire to its knees.
I made an appointment to end the pregnancy. Then, I planned to use that secret to end my marriage. The Scientist He Erased Returns
Modern For ten years, I was the silent engine behind my fiancé, the celebrated genius Dr. Alston Scott. I dedicated my life to our research, pouring my soul into a breakthrough that would change the world.
But when that breakthrough finally came, he stole it. He put his new protégé's name, Kiara Gamble, on my life's work.
At the annual colloquium, to shield Kiara from plagiarism accusations, he publicly dismissed my decade of research.
"She performed some preliminary data collection," he announced to the entire institute.
In that moment, I understood. I wasn't his partner; I was a tool. A convenient, disposable part he was now replacing. My family had already cast me out for losing my "golden ticket," and now, the man I loved had erased my professional existence.
So after he tried to silence me with a kiss, I slapped him, walked back to my lab, and deleted everything. Every file. Every piece of data from the last ten years.
Then I booked a one-way ticket to the desert. Choosing The Forgotten, Finding My King
Modern For five years, I was blindly devoted to my fiancé, Austen Griffin. My family's power was the only reason he was about to be named heir to the entire Griffin fortune.
But on the night of the announcement, he arrived late with my sister, Dennie, a fresh hickey on his neck. He cornered me, demanding a prenuptial agreement.
"No shared accounts. No shared bedroom. And no questions about my life," he whispered. "You get the name, I get my freedom."
In my past life, their public betrayal broke me. He used my love to secure his power, then cast me aside, leaving me to die alone while he and my sister enjoyed the fortune I handed them.
But when I opened my eyes, I was back at the gala, moments before the decision.
This time, when the family patriarch asked me to name my choice, I looked past Austen' s triumphant smirk and smiled.
"I choose Kolton Griffin," I announced, my voice clear and cold, selecting the crippled, forgotten cousin he despised most. He Broke the Omega: The White Wolf's Revenge
Werewolf For two thousand, five hundred and fifty-five days, I breathed air filtered through silver vents. Silver is poison to our kind, yet my Fated Mate, Alpha Dante Moretti, personally drove me to that prison and locked me in hell for seven years.
He did it to protect another woman.
When I was finally released, gaunt and broken, Dante didn't offer an apology. He offered excuses. He claimed it was necessary to save Chiara, the delicate "golden child" who supposedly saved his life years ago.
But it was a lie.
I was the one who had drained my veins until I went into shock to save him, while my parents handed the credit to Chiara. Now, back in the manor, I was forced to watch my mate feed her grapes and comfort her fake distress.
My parents called me a "soulless waste" and demanded I annul our engagement so Dante could mark Chiara. They thought I was a weak Omega they could discard.
They didn't know that the silver hadn't killed me; it had forged me. They had no idea that the "runt" they abused possessed the blood of the White Wolf, the most powerful creature in our history.
When the truth finally shattered their lies, Dante crawled to me, bleeding and begging on his knees in a hotel hallway. But I didn't feel triumph. I felt nothing.
"I, Alessia Salinas, reject you, Dante Moretti."
I walked away from the Alpha who broke me, leaving him to scream into the silence of a severed bond. From Savior To Scapegoat
Billionaires For nine years, I poured every ounce of myself into building a life for Chloe, the girl I rescued from the streets, even secretly sacrificing all my personal savings and hiding my identity as the heir to the Miller Group just so she could achieve her dreams.
Then, she graduated, landed a prestigious job, and looked me in the eye at our wobbly kitchen table: "Ethan," she said, her voice flat. "I want a divorce."
She claimed we'd grown apart, that I was "still me" while she had changed, dismissing our entire history as a mere "survival pact." She shoved divorce papers at me, demanding a "clean break" with the cold efficiency of a corporate cut, then walked out to her new life, leaving behind the untouched steak I' d cooked-her favorite. Later, I found brand-new, expensive men's shoes hidden in her closet, clearly not for me, another man' s size.
The realization hit me: this new life she spoke of wasn't just about career. It had a name: Brendan. The very man I' d seen her kissing on a snowy street, laughing as she called our home "pathetic." My heart, which had endured her constant complaints about our small life, now burned with betrayal and confusion. How could she so easily discard nine years of unwavering devotion, reduced to a transaction?
But the ultimate insult came when Chloe tried to manipulate me one last time, offering a "second chance" at our marriage-if I "fixed" things, if I got Brendan, the man she' d chosen over me, his job back. That' s when I dropped the bomb: "I paid her," I revealed, "I took the last five thousand dollars from our house fund, money I earned working nights in a freezer warehouse, and I paid her to walk away so that you could have your dream job." Her world, built on my silent sacrifices, crumbled, leaving her exposed and desperate. I walked away, finally free, leaving her to face the consequences of her choices as winter' s first snowflakes fell, washing away the last traces of a shattered dream. The Disgraced Heiress: A Love Lost
Billionaires The day my college entrance exam results came out, my entire wealthy family was on their knees, not for me, but begging for forgiveness. For years, they had seen me, Ava Stone, as nothing more than a lazy, incompetent disgrace, believing my adopted sister, Chloe, was the true prodigy.
My tech-mogul grandfather decided to host a "Startup Pitch Competition," a high-stakes game between Chloe and me, to see who could secure the most venture capital. The winner would get a ten percent stake in the Stone family's main tech conglomerate. But it turned into a public execution for me.
My parents, disgusted by my "laziness," bet three of their tech incubators on Chloe. My brother wagered ten data centers. Even my fiancé, Liam Miller, put up a brand-new AI patent, declaring to reporters and distinguished guests that I was "truly uninspired" and "guaranteed to lose," deeming me a disgrace to the Stone name.
To their shock, I announced I'd match their bets, wagering my entire family inheritance, an offer they eagerly accepted, scrambling to put up almost everything they owned. My parents called me "crazy." My mother linked arms with Chloe, saying, "If it weren' t for Chloe, you' d drive us all crazy."
My heart turned to ice as I watched them, hoping to rid themselves of me for good. They conveniently forgot Chloe had taken my place years ago, framed me repeatedly for her misdeeds, and was even secretly having an affair with my fiancé, Liam.
Liam, eager to please Chloe, publicly crushed my deceased foster mother's modest necklace-my most precious possession-under his heel, sneering, "I, Liam Miller, would never marry a failure like you. Our engagement is over." My own mother slapped me for my tears, calling the necklace "cheap" and declaring I was "no Stone."
As I was assaulted, restrained by bodyguards, and forced to watch a live stream of my robotic dog, Buddy, being tortured at a recycling plant-a "piece of junk," as my mother called him-my father kicked me, demanding I apologize. Amidst the chaos, a voice cut through: "The college entrance exam results are out!"
Everyone swarmed around Chloe, celebrating her supposed triumph. Chloe smiled mockingly, "Ava, it' s finally time, isn' t it?" But it was my smile that unsettled her. Liam, eager to secure his future, dropped to one knee, proposing to Chloe, "Marry me, Chloe." The crowd roared, taunting me with my supposed failure.
The notary announced Chloe's score: 702, second in the state. My family erupted in cheers, showering Chloe with praise and assets. Chloe gloated, "You bet your inheritance, but you're just a stepping stone for me. You're nothing but a clown."
Then the notary announced my score: "Ava Stone, total score 748, first in the state for science. And also the national top scorer for science in this year's college entrance exam." The room fell into a terrifying silence.
My mother's triumphant smile froze. Liam' s hand, hovering over a money transfer, paralyzed. Chloe snatched at the tablet, screaming, "Impossible! She partied every single day!"
The notary calmly stated, "Miss Ava Stone wins all the wagers placed in the prize pool." As I pulled out my competition awards and university acceptance letters under my real name, the lights dimmed. Surveillance footage played: Chloe cheating on her exam, Chloe framing me. Every lie, exposed.
Grandpa, watching from upstairs, confirmed I had been faking incompetence all along. He then delivered the final blow: his paternity test from twenty years ago confirmed Chloe was not his granddaughter. Chloe had manipulated everyone, replacing the true Stone heir-me.
With my family' s assets now mine, and Chloe and her mother exiled, I reclaimed Buddy from the recycling plant, converting it into an animal rescue center. On Christmas Eve, I hosted a quiet dinner with the children from my foster home and the kind housekeeper who had secretly helped me.
Months later, I restructured the Stone Group, clearing out those who had conspired against me. Liam, facing bankruptcy, tried to crawl back, but I made him pay every outstanding debt. My father and brother became ghosts in the mansion, stripped of their power.
Grandpa then revealed everything: my foster mother, a nurse, had saved me from my biological mother' s machinations years ago, protecting me while Grandpa secretly supported us, waiting for the perfect moment for me to return and reclaim what was mine.
My future stretched out, clear and open. I was ready to walk it, a tribute to my foster mother, a promise that I would build something good, something that would last. When The Victim Becomes The Predator
Romance My cousin Liam has a hobby. It' s ruining my life.
Every time I found a girl I genuinely liked, he' d swoop in, charm her, and orchestrate a public, humiliating breakup.
For years, I played the victim, internalizing the laughter and pity, dismissed by my mother as merely "jealous."
But this time, with Chloe Jenkins,
I wasn't just waiting for the storm.
I built it.
I watched as Liam Davis, parasite extraordinaire, took the bait.
He flaunted Chloe on social media, convinced she was another notch on his belt, funded by his ex-wife Sarah' s endless alimony checks.
Then, Sarah revealed Liam was living on borrowed time, off credit cards in her name.
It was all a carefully laid trap, and he walked right into it, dragging Chloe and himself into a spiral of fraud and deception.
He showed up at my door, a ghost of the man who terrorized my youth, wild-eyed and desperate.
"You set this all up," he snarled as two menacing figures dragged me into a black SUV.
He threw the first punch, my head snapping against the window.
This wasn' t just about humiliation anymore; it was about survival.
But Liam forgot one crucial detail: I wasn' t the only player in this game.
And as his broken body plunged into the dark water, pulled down by the very current he created, I finally understood.
Freedom wasn't a gift.
It was a weapon, forged in years of pain, and wielded with precision. A Steel Mill Daughter's Vengeance
Modern The doorbell rang, a cheerful chime that felt utterly out of place, ushering in my mother-in-law, Eleanor, unannounced.
Her unusual warmth and compliments were a warning, a performance leading up to her real ask.
Then, over dessert, she dropped the bombshell: a request for a $250,000 "loan" from my disabled father' s settlement to fund my brother-in-law' s extravagant wedding.
My father's money was for his life-long medical care, sacrificed from a lifetime in the steel mills.
I refused, unleashing years of suppressed anger against her family' s disdain for my working-class roots.
But the true betrayal came later, a phone call from a real estate agent asking to schedule a viewing for my house, which my husband, Kevin, had secretly listed for sale.
He was planning to liquidate our home, our future, to fund his family' s delusional prestige.
The shock, the raw devastation of his betrayal, quickly morphed into a cold, precise fury.
He thought I was a naïve, hardworking girl he could easily manipulate.
He had no idea I was about to weaponize a secret I had meticulously guarded for our entire marriage: his infertility.
I decided, then and there, he would learn what it truly meant to lose everything. The Gilded Cage I Escaped
Billionaires The media called my wedding to Damian Blackwood a modern Cinderella story.
They didn' t know it was a gilded cage, and I was the bird about to be locked inside.
As I stood in my bridal suite, my sister Jessica walked in, her husband Leo trailing behind.
Her eyes raked over my expensive dress, and a look of pure acid twisted her face.
"It should have been me," she hissed, her voice low and venomous.
Then, with a wildness I hadn' t seen, she whispered, "You stole my life, Amy."
Something sharp and cold pressed into my stomach, a silver letter opener.
Warmth bloomed across my white dress as my legs gave out, and darkness swallowed me.
I died, bleeding on the floor, the last thing I saw Jessica' s horrified face.
But then I woke up, not on the plush carpet of a Hamptons bridal suite, but in my childhood bed, years earlier.
The lumpy mattress, the stained floral wallpaper, the year on the calendar-it was all wrong.
Then Jessica walked in, wearing that cheap dress, with the same resentful ambition in her eyes.
She knew.
She was back, too, and declared, "This time, the life of a billionaire' s wife is mine!"
I knew how that story ended.
Let her have him. The Unwanted Husband's Comeback
Modern Our startup, Veridian Capital, was supposed to be our shared dream-Sarah's and mine.
I poured my life, my family's money, everything into it, even as a mysterious, chronic fatigue consumed me.
Tonight, at the annual gala, Sarah, now CEO, was radiant.
Then, on stage, she didn't just announce a new strategic business partner.
Her voice, filled with sickening pride, declared they were expecting a child.
With him.
My blood ran cold as the room erupted in whispers.
She looked at me, the man she' d called her husband, and spat, "This is your fault! Your debilitating negativity! Your lack of vitality!"
After I demanded a divorce, her new "partner," a supposed Italian Count, brutally attacked me in our apartment, leaving me broken and bleeding.
I lay there, ribs cracked, utterly bewildered.
But the true horror hit harder than any fist: My sister, a tough US Attorney, later confirmed that my mysterious illness – the very fatigue Sarah used to justify her betrayal – wasn't natural.
It was a slow-acting poison, meticulously administered over two years.
By Sarah.
The woman I loved, the partner I built everything with, had systematically poisoned me to take my company, my life, and replace me.
And now, she was about to learn that Michael Holloway, once discarded and broken, was finally free.
And I was coming for everything she held dear. Killed By Love, Reborn By Fate
Romance My name is Luna Boudreaux. They call me the Oracle. For generations, my family, the Boudreaux, has served the powerful Devereaux dynasty. Our sacred duty: activate the Legacy Locket to choose the next Devereaux heir, who then marries me. Today was that day, the Locket ceremony, set to fulfill our destiny.
But this wasn't my first time. In my previous life, I fell desperately in love with Beau Devereaux. He was handsome, charming, everything I thought I wanted. Blinded by adoration, I committed a terrible sin. I used forbidden Boudreaux magic, a profound spiritual sacrifice, to force the Locket to choose him. I gave him everything – my family' s power, our wealth, and my entire heart.
The moment he ascended, he turned into a monster. He sneered, "What Oracle? Just your desperate trick to marry me." He annulled our marriage, annihilated my family' s reputation with twisted lies, blamed us for an "accident" he orchestrated involving his obsession, Chantelle Dubois. He stripped us bare. And then, he had me killed.
To my dying breath, I couldn't comprehend how a love so fierce could transform into such cold-blooded cruelty, or why I' d been so profoundly, fatally wrong. But then darkness lifted.
Now, I'm back. Same place, same moment, a terrifying second chance. Beau can have Chantelle. I won' t interfere. This time, the Locket will choose truly. Fate will decide. And maybe, just maybe, I' ll uncover why, in a future vision, Beau Devereaux was on his knees, begging me to marry him instead. MIT's Secret: The Billionaire's Daughter They Didn't Want
Young Adult I was just a grease-stained mechanic, happily working with my adoptive dad in rural Nevada, on the cusp of starting my engineering journey at MIT on a full scholarship.
Then, a sleek black Mercedes pulled up, and out stepped a woman claiming to be my biological mother, Eleanor Vance, revealing an 18-year-old hospital mix-up during a chaotic wildfire.
Suddenly, I was thrust into the opulent world of the Thorne family, where my biological father, Richard, and his entitled son, Ethan, made it abundantly clear I was an unwanted outsider, doling out belittling gifts and thinly veiled insults.
At their grand charity gala, Richard and Ethan orchestrated a public humiliation, aiming to shame me in front of their elite circle, leaving me burning with indignation and confusion over their blatant hostility.
But what they didn't foresee was my tech-billionaire boyfriend, Sam, along with his incredibly influential parents, crashing their party, turning their calculated attack into a spectacular downfall that exposed not just their schemes, but a multi-layered, decades-long conspiracy of baby swaps and deceit far beyond a simple hospital error. My Fiancee's Audacious Demand
Romance My bachelor party in Vegas was supposed to be a modern celebration of love, a joint affair with my brilliant, beautiful fiancée, Sophia.
But the flashing lights of the club turned into a blinding nightmare when her "gay best friend," Julian, drunkenly screamed that he was the father of her unborn child, revealing a betrayal that shattered my world.
Sophia, utterly cold, confirmed it, then had the gall to demand I still marry her, raise Julian's baby, and even ordered me to retrieve her overnight bag from his lavish penthouse where I found her already moved in, curled in his lap, sharing an intimacy she'd denied me for years, as they mocked my shock and called me "insecure."
The woman I'd chased for years, the Ivy League intellectual, stood there with her lover, confidently outlining a "modern compromise" where I was a mere placeholder, discarding five years of our life together with chilling condescension; how could I have been such a fool?
Just as despair threatened to consume me, a drunken call from my long-lost college friend, Chloe, brought an unexpected confession of love and a radical offer: "What if I married you instead?" In that moment, a desperate, defiant spark ignited, steering me toward an improbable new beginning away from the toxic wreckage. The Love He Couldn't See
Romance My lungs were failing, but my music was finally taking flight.
I was a dying folk singer, determined to record my father's unfinished songs – a legacy.
A grant from the prestigious Astor Family Arts Foundation felt like a miracle, a chance to complete my final masterpiece.
Then, the “miracle” became a nightmare.
The foundation was run by Ethan's family—my ex-fiancé's.
And then *she* crashed into my world: Bella Thorne, America's sweetheart pop star, Ethan's new, very public girlfriend, announced she'd "collaborate."
It wasn't collaboration; it was a hostile takeover.
Bella and her producers butchered my raw sound, demanding synths and demanding co-writing credits on my father's decades-old lyrics.
They wanted to make it "pop," to erase me.
Bella's cruel jabs became relentless, each comment a tiny cut.
My health, already fractured, spiraled with the stress—coughing fits, nosebleeds I desperately tried to hide.
Ethan, the man I once loved, stood by, a silent, unreadable observer, always by *her* side.
He watched my spirit being systematically dismantled.
Then, in a moment of manufactured fury, Bella "accidentally" slammed my father's vintage guitar to the floor, splitting it in two.
The guitar wasn't just wood; it was my soul, my last connection to him.
Bella then posted a tearful video, portraying herself as heartbroken, casting *me* as the volatile drama queen.
The internet, fueled by carefully leaked old photos of Ethan and me, branded me a gold-digging manipulator, faking my illness for attention.
Even Ethan, seeing Bella's performance, was convinced.
He texted, offering to "replace" my irreplaceable guitar, further proving he never truly understood.
I was dying, fighting for my art, and the world thought I was faking.
How could he be so blind?
With trembling fingers, I deleted Ethan's contact.
My legacy, my final gift, was being ripped apart, but I wouldn't let them silence the truth in my music.
I had to protect it, even if it cost me everything. 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. The Capo's Scarred Wife: A Vicious Comeback
Sofia Wade I was the Chicago Outfit's princess, and Luca and Matteo were my sworn protectors. We had mixed our blood at ten years old, promising that nothing would ever touch me.
But that oath turned to ash the night Sofia Ricci aimed a Roman candle at my chest.
The firework slammed into my shoulder, igniting my silk dress instantly. As I rolled on the concrete, screaming while the flames ate into my skin, I waited for my boys to save me.
They didn't.
Instead, I watched through the smoke as they rushed to Sofia. They wrapped their jackets—the ones meant to shield me—around the girl who had just set me on fire, comforting her because the "kickback" had scared her.
They let me burn to keep her warm.
When I woke up in the hospital with permanent scars, they brought me a letter of apology from her and defended her "accident." They even cut their palms to pay her debt, ignoring the fact that I was the one in bandages.
That was the moment Elena Vitiello died.
I didn't scream. I didn't beg. I simply packed my bags and defected to the one place they couldn't follow: the arms of Dante Moretti, the lethal Capo of New York.
By the time they realized their mistake and came crawling back to beg in the rain, I was already wearing another man's ring.
"You want forgiveness?" I asked, looking down at them.
"Burn for it." 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. 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 Mafia's Forgotten Obsession
Sophie Abou "Don't die on me, Tom, I can't lose you for the second time. It will ruin me." Vivienne said desperately, holding his sweaty face in her hands.
Tom hid his pain and smiled up at her. "There are too many filthy fantasies of you and I in my head that I'm yet to carry out. I won't forgive myself if I die, Vee."
She couldn't look away...
~
For Eight years, Vivienne lost her light after the death of her teenage lover, Tristan Bennett. Forced to engage his cruel stepbrother based on based on family's agreement, she made the decision to flee on their wedding day.
Now, hidden in a city where no one knows her name, she sort for a new job only for her to discover that her new billionaire boss was her lover who died eight years ago.
He doesn't remember her. He bears another name. And he has another woman now? Not any ordinary woman-A dangerous mafia lord's daughter who happens to be obsessed with him.
But Tristan, now known as Tom in his new mafia world wants to bail out, and he needs a contract marriage with a new woman to leave his obsessive girlfriend. Vivienne agreed to the marriage contract with every intention to help him get back his past memories.
But what happens when all circumstances surrounding them threatens to sabotage her efforts? Tom's cruel stepbrother who wanted Vivienne than breath itself-His Mafia boss, and his obsessive girlfriend.
Vivienne must risk danger and death to be with her lover again.
But some problems are far too complicated with many secrets to solve, and Vivienne is about to find out.
His Discarded Gem: Shining In The Ruthless Don's Arms
Temple Madison For four years, I traced the bullet scar on Chace’s chest, believing it was proof he would bleed to keep me safe.
On our anniversary, he told me to wear white because "tonight changes everything." I walked into the gala thinking I was getting a ring.
Instead, I stood frozen in the center of the ballroom, drowning in silk, watching him slide his mother's sapphire onto another woman's finger.
Karyn Warren. The daughter of a rival family.
When I begged him with my eyes to claim me, to save me from the public humiliation, he didn't flinch. He just leaned toward his Underboss, his voice amplified by the silence.
"Karyn is for power. Ember is for pleasure. Don't confuse the assets."
My heart didn't just break; it incinerated. He expected me to stay as his mistress, threatening to dig up my dead mother’s grave if I refused to play the obedient pet.
He thought I was trapped. He thought I had nowhere to go because of my father’s massive gambling debts.
He was wrong.
With shaking hands, I pulled out my phone and texted the one name I was never supposed to use.
Keith Mosley. The Don. The monster under Chace's bed.
*I am invoking the Blood Oath. My father’s debt. I am ready to pay it.*
His reply came three seconds later, buzzing against my palm like a warning.
*The price is marriage. You belong to me. Yes or No?*
I looked up at Chace, who was laughing with his new fiancée, thinking he owned me.
I looked down and typed three letters.
*Yes.* Mistaken Identity: Loving The Wrong Twin Sister
Tabbie Platt I replaced my twin sister in a marriage contract to the ruthless Mafia Don, Donovan Blackwood.
For three years, I was a ghost in his home, silently enduring his coldness while he flaunted his mistress, Chloe.
On the very last day of our contract, Chloe staged an accident.
Donovan didn't hesitate.
He forced me to drain my blood to save her life.
Then, to prove his loyalty to her, he drove me to the cliffs and pushed me into the freezing ocean.
He even locked me in a cellar infested with spiders—my deepest phobia—because she lied and said I threatened her.
He thought he was punishing the spoiled, arrogant Isabella.
He didn't know he was breaking Ava, the woman who had silently memorized his allergies and waited up for him in the dark every single night.
When I finally took my fifty million dollars and vanished, I left behind nothing but the divorce papers and a photo revealing the truth.
He tore the city apart, destroying my family to find me, only to realize he had tortured the wrong woman.
Now, he is standing on my porch in the pouring rain, staring in horror at the simple wooden ring on my finger given to me by another man.
He falls to his knees, begging for a chance to love the wife he tried to destroy.
I look at him, feeling absolutely nothing.
"It's too late, Donovan," I say, locking the door. "You killed her." Marrying The Ex-Fiancé's Ruthless Mafia Brother
Nero Daniels My fiancé left me standing alone at the podium during our rehearsal dinner to rush to the side of a woman whose only illness was a desperate need for attention.
He humiliated me in front of the heads of the Five Families, abandoning our alliance to scoop his "dying" mistress off the floor.
I didn't cry. I didn't run. I walked straight to the head table, to the most terrifying man in the city—his older brother, the Don.
"The Woodward family owes me a husband," I declared calmly.
An hour later, I was married to the Capo dei Capi. But my ex-fiancé didn't accept his demotion.
He kidnapped me, strapping me to a chair in a soundproof basement.
For three days, he drained my blood pint by pint to "save" his mistress, Jaidyn, who watched me fade while she casually ate an apple.
"Take another bag," she ordered, smiling at my agony. "She still has too much fight in her."
As the cold crept up my chest and my vision blurred, I realized I was going to die for a lie, drained dry by a madman.
Then, the steel door detonated.
Through the smoke and debris walked my husband, not with a ransom, but with a serrated knife and a promise to burn them alive. 
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