Qiang Weiwei
14 Published Stories
Qiang Weiwei's Books and Stories
He Chose the Wrong Daughter
Mafia I was married to the most ruthless Mafia boss in New York. For five years, he played the perfect, doting father to our daughter, Sofia.
But on Sofia's fifth birthday, he coldly announced he was bringing his illegitimate daughter into the family.
I discovered he had been maintaining a mistress in the shadows this entire time.
When his bastard child was diagnosed with leukemia, he didn't hesitate.
He ordered his soldiers to pin me to the cold floor and dragged my fragile Sofia into an unsterile underground clinic to harvest her bone marrow.
"I have no choice. We will be a perfect family once she is saved."
Despite knowing Sofia had a severe congenital heart defect, he forced the procedure.
When the doctor stepped out and announced the child didn't survive, I was locked in a cell, coughing up blood in pure agony.
I couldn't understand how the man who once slit his own wrists in the freezing rain to prove his devotion could slaughter his own flesh and blood for a homewrecker's lie.
But when the DNA test revealed the dead bastard wasn't even his, and my Sofia miraculously walked through the door alive, the untouchable Don collapsed at my feet in tears.
"Please, I'll burn the city down to keep you safe."
I just held my daughter's hand, stepped over his shattered pride, and finally walked away. Rejecting My Ruthless Billionaire Fiancé
Modern For ten years, Aurora was abandoned by her wealthy family to rot in the countryside.
When she finally returned, there was no warm welcome. The Lott family only brought her back to replace her adopted sister in an arranged marriage with Damian Yates, a notoriously violent, crippled billionaire, just to save their bankrupt company.
Her grandmother mocked her as uneducated trash. Her fake sister feigned disgust at her very presence.
When her biological father desperately tried to stop them from sending his daughter to her death, the family turned on him.
Her grandmother struck her father across the face, kicked the three of them out of the manor into the freezing rain, and arrogantly declared they would starve on the streets by nightfall.
They thought Aurora was just a helpless, pathetic hillbilly who would quietly accept being sold as livestock.
They had no idea that over the past decade, she had survived the darkest corners of the world, becoming a lethal operative with unimaginable power.
Standing in the cold rain, Aurora didn't shed a single tear.
She calmly pulled out her encrypted phone, personally canceled the billionaire's marriage contract, and ordered her hacker to completely freeze the Lott family's accounts.
"Total financial annihilation. Burn them to the ground."
But as she watched her abusers' legacy crumble, a classified file arrived on her phone, revealing that the very billionaire she just rejected was tied to her mother's unsolved murder.
The real hunt was just beginning. Deal With The Devilish Wall Street Tycoon
Billionaires Ami Cleveland's family empire was destroyed overnight by a malicious short-selling attack, leaving her mother facing federal prison and hunted by ruthless loan sharks.
To secure a hundred-million-dollar lifeline, Ami risked her life as a blindfolded co-pilot in a deadly cliffside street race, all just to get five minutes alone with Jerad Kidd, the elusive Wall Street titan she had accidentally slept with the night before.
But instead of saving her, Jerad completely crushed her dignity.
"What makes you think you are worth a hundred million dollars?"
He mocked her desperate pitch, calling her family's equity garbage, and coldly walked away. Two days later, he forced her onto his Miami superyacht as a political decoy, making her wear a backless silk gown that offered zero protection and throwing her into a sea of wealthy predators.
When a drunk tech billionaire pinned her against a sofa and tried to rip the thin straps of her dress, Ami screamed for help. She looked up at the VIP balcony in absolute despair, only to see Jerad looking away, treating her like she didn't even exist.
She didn't understand why he was torturing her. Why did he let her risk her life in his car, only to humiliate her and feed her to the wolves?
With no one to save her, Ami grabbed a whiskey glass and violently smashed it into her attacker's face.
She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the man's brutal retaliation slap.
But the hit never came. A large hand, wearing a heavy Patek Philippe watch, shot out of nowhere and clamped down on the man's raised arm like a steel vice. The Mafia Don's Runaway Collateral Wife
Mafia Six years ago, I was given to New York's most ruthless mafia Don as collateral to pay off my father's gambling debt.
After one terrifying, pitch-black night with him, his grandfather framed me for treason and threw me out onto the freezing streets.
They threw me away, not knowing I was pregnant with his triplets.
Now, I only came back to his city to get his signature on our divorce papers so my children and I could disappear to Europe.
But his men ambushed us at the airport and dragged us to his underground interrogation room.
Damien threw a DNA consent form on the steel desk, staring at my fierce five-year-old son with dark reverence.
"Sign the paper. Or I will personally forge him into the sharpest weapon this family has ever seen."
I was trembling with absolute terror.
He believed the lies that I had sold his family's secrets and abandoned his firstborn heir for money.
I didn't understand why this monster wouldn't just let me go, but I couldn't let him drag my innocent babies into his violent hell.
Just as I tearfully picked up the pen to surrender, the room plunged into darkness, and a digital threat hijacked his monitors.
My other five-year-old son had hacked the Don's network, starting a 60-second countdown to wipe out all his billions.
Damien was forced to yield, but when the steel doors opened, his severely traumatized, silent six-year-old heir walked in—and immediately curled into my arms.
Damien stared at us in shock, then slowly tore my divorce papers into pieces.
"The deal is off." The Secret Mother And Her Cruel Tycoon
Billionaires My father was rotting in a cell, and my secret son, Leo, was the only reason I kept breathing. Then, everything shattered when Augustine Hoover’s bodyguards dragged me to a remote estate and locked me in a room with a dying monster.
The man in the dark was Augustine himself, bleeding from a wound and lost in a drug-induced delirium. He didn't see me as a person; he saw me as a debt to be collected. By dawn, the feverish attacker was gone, replaced by a cold, calculative billionaire in a wheelchair who told me I was now his property.
I was trapped on a private island, forced to play nurse to keep my father protected in prison. While I suffered in silence, the world turned against me. My fiancé, Grant, went on national television to dump me, calling my family a disgrace. When Augustine finally brought me back to New York, it wasn't for freedom—it was to parade me at a gala where I saw Grant with his arm around my stepsister. She was wearing my dress, living my life, while I stood there with Augustine’s bite mark fresh on my neck.
The humiliation was total. Augustine offered me a deal: sign a marriage contract with a mandatory "Heir Production Clause," or watch my father die and my son disappear. He promised to crush my enemies, but his touch felt like a shackle.
I felt a cold rage settle over me. If I was going to be a prisoner, I would be the most dangerous one he had ever seen. I realized then that everyone I loved was a pawn in a game I didn't even know was being played.
I signed the papers and officially became Mrs. Hoover, the most envied and hated woman in the city. But as we pulled up to his gothic mansion, a burner phone in my pocket buzzed with a message from my father’s oldest ally. The man I just married wasn't my protector. He was the one who framed my father and destroyed my life. I’ve entered the lion’s den, and I won’t stop until I’ve ripped his heart out. When Pity Dies: Her Sweet Revenge
Young Adult The harsh clang of the school bell ripped me from a nightmare.
One moment, I was bleeding out on the cold community center floor, choked by smoke and gasoline, watching the Outlaws murder my family.
The next, I was back in my high school classroom, the familiar scent of chalk and disinfectant filling the air, alive and untouched.
My heart hammered-not with teenaged excitement, but with the primal terror of a ghost, knowing this was it: the day it all began.
Brittany Hayes, perfect blonde hair and a weaponized smile, stood at the front, pushing her dad' s "Life Path AI" onto our entire class for free.
Liam Carter, the class golden boy, nodded eagerly beside her, his handsome face alight with ambition, calling it "foolproof."
A wave of excited chatter filled the room: the exact siren song that had led to ruin in my last life.
I remembered standing up then, my voice trembling but determined, warning them about the AI' s flaws, its bias towards corporate partners.
They' d laughed, calling me jealous, a conspiracy theorist, just because my family ran a charity center.
They ostracized me, humiliated me, and then Brittany' s father' s media machine discredited my family, painting us as backward fools.
Then the Outlaws came, paid to send a message, and they destroyed everything: my parents, my little sister Lily, and me.
The memory burned, a raw, open wound in my soul.
This time, I didn't stand up.
I leaned back, a mask of calm indifference, an empty smile for Liam who glanced my way in surprise.
Let them walk into the fire.
This time, I would be the one holding the gasoline. This Time, I Fight Back: The CEO's Daughter Returns
Modern The staff party was a dull throb, a familiar exhaustion settling deep in my bones.
Then Sabrina Chavez held out the brownie, her eyes wide and innocent, just like before.
But I remembered the last time.
Taking that brownie led to my throat closing, my lungs burning, and a severe anaphylactic shock.
I was dying on the floor, gasping for air, while my boyfriend, Ethan, comforted Sabrina, who claimed it was just cross-contamination.
He called me "dramatic" at my hospital bed.
That "accident" cost me my promotion, gave me lifelong respiratory damage, and shattered my relationship.
It all ended when Ethan, defending Sabrina again, pushed me, and my head hit the counter.
I died.
Now, I' m back, standing at that exact moment.
Sabrina' s smile was sickeningly sweet.
The world snapped into focus.
This time, everything changes. Five Years Old, Billionaire Bound
Romance I was five years old when my dad traded me to a dying billionaire.
He called me his lucky charm, a living prophecy, and in return, I got a mansion, a trust fund, and a fancy title: "Madam Chair" of a multi-billion-dollar foundation.
I grew up navigating the opulent halls, an outsider in a gilded cage.
My only real connection was with Ms. Chadwick, the formidable chief of staff, and the quiet, observant Wesley.
But my twisted stepsister, Jennifer, refused to let my past stay in the past.
She, along with my opportunistic father, saw my position as their ticket into the Blakely empire.
They relentlessly schemed, first trying to marry Jennifer off to the heir, Caleb, then, when that failed, she orchestrated a horrifying corporate sabotage.
She framed Caleb, leading to scandalous accusations and the collapse of a crucial merger.
Then came the news: Caleb's fiancée, Victoria, was dead, killed in a suspicious car accident.
I knew in my gut Jennifer was behind it, her ruthlessness finally escalating to murder.
The Blakelys were in chaos, desperate to cover up the scandal, so they gave Jennifer a high-profile role, silencing her with money and status.
They bought her silence, but they ignited my fury.
This wasn't just about family feuds anymore; it was about justice and survival.
I, the quiet girl dismissed as a symbolic chairwoman, decided to wield the foundation's immense power like a sword.
It was time to expose every lie, every betrayal, and tear down the very people who thought they could control my destiny. When Love Was A Trial
Fantasy For forty years, my life with Elara as a humble Appalachian herbalist was filled with quiet love and shared purpose.
Then, on her sixtieth birthday, a blinding light revealed her true form: an Aetheling, and our marriage, a cold "trial" to regain her powers.
She abandoned me for her "true love," Caelus, cursing me with unnatural eternal life to watch my entire world slowly die.
But the true horror came when Caelus, in a jealous rage, obliterated Hollow Creek, eradicating everyone I loved with a single blighting spell, leaving me the sole, cursed survivor.
Elara dragged me to their glittering Aethelgard, where I was a humiliating "pet," a constant reminder of her past.
The ultimate betrayal struck when Caelus framed me, and Elara, without hesitation, condemned me to the inescapable Barrow of Whispers, a prison worse than death.
How could the woman who shared my heart inflict such calculated cruelty and discard me so utterly?
My soul burned with an unbearable mix of grief, helplessness, and seething rage.
Yet, in that forgotten abyss, I found the echoing spirits of Hollow Creek, my murdered people.
They infused me with the ancient, untamed power of the earth itself, transforming me from a broken mortal into an unstoppable vessel of vengeance.
I am no longer Liam, the pet. I am the wrath of the mountains returned, and Elara and Caelus will pay. The Widow Who Wasn't
Romance My husband, Ethan Vance, was presumed drowned, swallowed by the Serpent River. For three agonizing months, I, Ava – owner of our beloved Portland bakery, "The Daily Rise" – had been a grieving widow, the city's gray mirroring the hollow ache in my chest. My dreams felt entombed by tragedy.
My friend Maya finally dragged me to a New Orleans music festival, desperate for a change of scene. Amidst the chaotic pulse and anonymous crowd, I saw him. Ethan. Alive. Laughing, his arm around Chloe Hayes, his "childhood best friend" and a flashy influencer who' d always been a little too close.
He looked vibrant, not like a man who' d fought a treacherous river. I heard him brag about "escaping the grind" thanks to "Chloe' s genius plan." Then came the gut punch: "Give it another week... Ava will have really hit rock bottom. She' ll be grateful for anything when I 'miraculously' return." My husband, celebrating my destruction.
The betrayal was colder, sharper than any grief. This wasn't just him being alive; it was a premeditated, cruel deception. He'd orchestrated my despair, mocking our shared life. How could the man I loved be such a monstrous con artist?
My hands shook, but my voice was steady as I called my lawyer friend. "He's not dead, Ben," I told him, the cold fury replacing my tears. "He's a con artist. And now, I want everything." The Watch That Broke Us
Modern My 31st birthday should have been a joyful celebration, a moment of genuine warmth with my younger brother, Mike.
He gifted me a luxury smartwatch, a gesture that, after years of my financial and emotional support for him, felt like a true acknowledgment of our bond.
But the warmth turned to ice moments later when Mike's new girlfriend, Brittany, barraged my phone with aggressive direct messages.
"Jealous old maid," she called me, accusing me of trying to "leech" off Mike and demanding *her* watch back.
Mike, bafflingly, defended Brittany's behavior, calling it "loyalty" and allowing her to launch a vicious online smear campaign against me.
He prioritized her whims over my needs, even lending out my professional camera equipment, only to publicly humiliate me at my office when I requested it back.
How could the brother I’d practically raised, the one I’d sacrificed so much for, turn so cruelly against me?
Every past act of love and support was now twisted into a cynical attempt to "control" him, dictated by a manipulative stranger.
The ultimate betrayal came when he shoved me, leaving me bleeding on my floor, snatching the watch, and walking out, incited by Brittany’s taunting text.
That moment transformed my pain into cold resolve: this wasn't just about a watch anymore; it was time to fight back. A Serpent in My Bed
Young Adult The smell of stale coffee hung heavy in my college dorm room.
My roommate, Jessica, hovered over me, her face a mask of feigned concern.
She was my best friend, or so I believed then.
It was the Monday before Thanksgiving break, a seemingly ordinary start to a week.
But the moment I opened my eyes, a brutal wave of memories crashed over me.
The screech of tires, blinding headlights, then utter darkness.
My family's beloved restaurant, Miller’s Place, crumbling to dust.
My dad, debilitated by a stroke, his once vibrant eyes now vacant.
My brother, Michael, broken, his promising future stolen.
And my sweet sister-in-law, Emily, clutching an empty nursery.
Jessica, the viper I’d foolishly welcomed, had meticulously orchestrated their ruin.
She’d falsely accused Michael, leading to Emily's devastating loss.
Her calculated lies had bled our family savings dry to fuel her extortion.
The shame, the whispers, the very fabric of our small town life, torn apart.
I, Sarah Miller, became the pariah, blamed for enabling the monster.
The relentless online bullying drove me to walk into traffic, desperate for an end.
Now, here she was again, playing the innocent victim, sighing about a lonely Thanksgiving.
Her eyes, wide and pleading, mirroring the exact look that had sealed our destruction.
How could I have been so catastrophically naïve, so utterly blind to the serpent in my bed?
A cold, potent fury roared inside me, threatening to consume everything.
The nightmare was beginning anew, a cruel replay of my worst past.
But this time, I wasn't the gullible girl.
I was back, somehow, exactly one year before the catastrophe.
This time, the script was mine to rewrite.
This time, I would not be her fool, her stepping stone to ruin.
This time, Jessica would finally pay.
Every last, agonizing cent. When the Wife Disappeared
Romance My tenth wedding anniversary, but the simmering lobster bisque couldn’t mask the acrid taste of my husband’s lies.
Mike, the man I’d built a life with, was openly having an affair with a twenty-something influencer, Skyler, her perfectly curated Instagram a brazen display of my unraveling world.
The real agony began when our young son, Leo, innocently spoke of "Aunt Sky," recounting secret adventures and sugary treats, blissfully unaware he was a pawn in his father’s cruel game.
Mike’s betrayal deepened into an insidious wound as he used our child, poisoning Leo against me, while claiming he was saving a vintage champagne for "a special occasion" that he'd uncork for Skyler on *our* anniversary.
But the final, gut-wrenching blow came when Skyler sent a text: a picture of her draped provocatively across *my* bed, wearing *my* husband’s shirt, flaunting her conquest with a chilling message: "#Upgrade."
My life, my home, my dignity, shattered into a million pieces, while he, completely oblivious, hummed about a "surprise" he had planned for my birthday.
The pain, the humiliation, the sheer audacity of it all was suffocating; divorce felt too clean, too easy for him, as if he could simply walk away unscathed.
My heart splintered further when Leo, confused and innocent, asked if "Aunt Sky" would be his new mommy, a question Mike himself had evidently planted.
There was no turning back, no hope for repair; in that moment of absolute despair and righteous fury, I knew Ellie Hayes had to die.
And Mike Hayes, the man who had stolen my future and poisoned my son, would watch his entire world burn down around him, ensuring he would finally pay the true, devastating price for his betrayal. You might like
The Discarded Wife Is A Mafia Queen
Shore Tour I am the wife of Dante Moretti, a powerful Mafia Underboss. But in secret, I am "Spettro," the phantom architect who built his entire encrypted bootlegging empire.
On my birthday, I came home to find him gifting our five-year-old daughter the exact plush toy he had violently slapped out of my hands months ago. Only this time, he was giving it to his mistress, Adriana, to present as her own.
"Auntie Adriana is a million times better than Mommy."
My daughter's innocent words pierced my heart, while Dante coldly dismissed my presence, treating me like an unwelcome stranger interrupting their perfect family. He mocked my mothering, allowed his mistress to sever my desperate phone calls with my child, and weaponized his power to break our daughter's spirit just to spite me. He sneered that my only purpose was to stay quiet, absolutely certain I would crawl back the second my allowance ran dry.
He thought I was just a weak, submissive wife who had lost everything. He didn't realize that the empire he arrogantly ruled was entirely built on my stolen brilliance.
I left my diamond ring on the table, violently slashed our ancient blood oath in half, and walked out of his gilded cage forever.
Sitting in a cold warehouse, I placed my hands on my telegraph machine and initiated the Ghost Protocol to permanently paralyze his entire criminal network.
The era of playing the dutiful wife was over. I am Donna Falcone, and the vendetta has just begun. From Jilted Bride To Mafia Empress
Xiao Wang 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
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 Unwanted Bride Becomes The City's Queen
Breeze I was the spare daughter of the Vitiello crime family, born solely to provide organs for my golden sister, Isabella.
Four years ago, under the codename "Seven," I nursed Dante Moretti, the Don of Chicago, back to health in a safe house. I was the one who held him in the dark.
But Isabella stole my name, my credit, and the man I loved.
Now, Dante looked at me with nothing but cold disgust, believing her lies.
When a neon sign crashed down on the street, Dante used his body to shield Isabella, leaving me to be crushed under twisted steel.
While Isabella sat in a VIP suite crying over a scratch, I lay broken, listening to my parents discuss if my kidneys were still viable for harvest.
The final straw came at their engagement gala. When Dante saw me wearing the lava stone bracelet I had worn in the safe house, he accused me of stealing it from Isabella.
He ordered my father to punish me.
I took fifty lashes to my back while Dante covered Isabella's eyes, protecting her from the ugly truth.
That night, the love in my heart finally died.
On the morning of their wedding, I handed Dante a gift box containing a cassette tape—the only proof that I was Seven.
Then, I signed the papers disowning my family, threw my phone out the car window, and boarded a one-way flight to Sydney.
By the time Dante listens to that tape and realizes he married a monster, I will be thousands of miles away, never to return. Jilted Wife? I Am The Underworld Boss
WILONA COOK I am the head of the Bianco syndicate. I trusted my quiet, civilian husband, Simon, to guard my ancestral estate while I expanded our legitimate empire out of state.
I rushed home after receiving an alert that my five-million-dollar property was sold, only to find Simon cradling a newborn baby with his mistress in my desecrated courtyard.
The mistress, Rachel, smugly declared she now owned my house and my husband, using a forged divorce agreement and IDs Simon had secretly stolen from my private safe.
"Simon divorcing you was an escape from misery, because no real man wants a cold machine in his bed."
They played the victims for the live-streaming neighbors, and Rachel tossed my late father's sacred mafia relics into the mud, stomping on his photograph and laughing about melting his legacy for scrap metal.
I stared at the pathetic coward I had married, sickened and bewildered that the man who once vowed to protect my home could steal my inheritance and casually destroy my bloodline's honor for a cheap affair.
As the local police tried to arrest me for defending my father's memory, my syndicate's armored convoy suddenly barricaded the street, and I prepared to leave the traitors nothing but ashes. 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 Divorced Wife He Could Never Afford
Herculie Dipietro I spent ten years building a mafia empire with my husband, Julian, taking bullets and laundering millions to make him the untouchable Don.
But today, he slid a fifty million dollar divorce settlement across the boardroom table, demanding I step down to make room for his naive new mistress.
He stripped me of my titles and gave her my Underboss pendant. He fabricated rumors of my infidelity to ruin my reputation in the Underworld, just to build a spotless pedestal for her.
When I was bleeding out in a turf war, he let her hang up my desperate call for backup.
"Julian had a stressful day, please do not bother him with your gang drama."
He didn't even apologize. Instead, he threatened to feed me to rival families if I didn't disappear, leaving me completely isolated and hunted by assassins.
Ten years of hiding bodies and surviving for his sake were reduced to a severance package. I stared at the man who once slaughtered an entire syndicate just to crown me his Queen, feeling nothing but a suffocating betrayal. How could he abandon our blood-soaked vows for a cheap replica playing a dangerous game?
I didn't cry or beg him to remember us.
I calmly signed the papers, stepped out of his fortress, and initiated a live broadcast to the highest judges of the Commission, leaking the corrupt ledgers that would burn his empire to the ground. 
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