Rosa_raven
2 Published Stories
Rosa_raven's Books and Stories
My Stepsister Stole My Groom
Billionaires She stole my wedding. I stole her future.
On the morning of my wedding, I caught my fiancé Kellan tangled in the sheets with my stepsister. The betrayal should have shattered me. Instead, it lit a fire in my veins.
So I did what any woman scorned would do.
I pointed to the most dangerous man in the room-Drexon Moreaux, Kellan's ruthless billionaire uncle-and declared, "Him. I'll marry him instead."
Drexon could have laughed in my face. The Moreaux empire's heir apparent, a man forged in boardroom battles and whispered about in elite circles, had no reason to entertain my reckless demand.
But he said, "I do."
Now, my stepsister's smug smile is crumbling. My ex-fiancé is forced to call me Auntie. And Drexon? He watches me with dark, calculating eyes, as if I'm a puzzle he's determined to solve.
This marriage was supposed to be my revenge. But with every lingering touch and midnight confession, Drexon is turning it into something far more dangerous-something that feels like love.
Too bad the Moreaux family doesn't believe in happy endings. 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.
Carved From My Body, His Regret
Ive Gutterson My eyes struggled open, but a heavy weight held them shut. I was paralyzed, trapped in a cold hospital room, the rhythmic beep of a heart monitor a cruel reminder of my mother's death. I, Elena Vitiello, who controlled everything, was now helpless, reduced to a slab of meat.
Then I heard his footsteps. Dante. My husband, my anchor. But his voice was chillingly devoid of warmth as he ordered, "Do not increase the dosage. I will not risk damaging the organ's viability." The organ. My mind went blank, ice filling my veins.
Trapped and unable to move, I realized Dante saw me only as a "political placeholder," never loving me. He was having my kidney removed, carved from my body like livestock, to save his mistress, Sofia-the woman whose messes I'd cleaned for ten years. His hand, usually my comfort, smeared away my tear with sheer disgust.
The scalpel tore into my flesh, a blinding, white-hot agony. Every tug and pull hollowed me out, stripping away my potential, my love, my future. How could the man I bled for reduce me to a mere object, a spare part for his true love? The sheer insult of it fueled a volcanic rage.
As my kidney was lifted out, the final illusion of our marriage shattered completely. My fear dissolved, replaced by a chilling, absolute calm. The darkness that embraced me was not defeat, but the coiling silence of a viper preparing to strike. This kidney was not a sacrifice. It was the down payment for Dante Moretti's life. The Neglected Wife's Ultimate Mafia Comeback
Baxy Koseluk I was the dutiful wife of Julian, a ruthless Capo in the Chicago Syndicate.
Six months ago, my convoy was ambushed by a rival cartel.
While I lay bleeding out on the cold floor of the car, my husband was on the phone with his mistress, Mia.
"Lock your doors, stay inside," he told her, never once asking if I was alive.
I survived, only to watch him flaunt his betrayal.
He brought his mistress into our home, booked her luxury suites in Tokyo, and bought her massive diamonds with Syndicate funds.
When I refused to play the part of his obedient, blind wife, he publicly humiliated me and orchestrated rumors to isolate me.
He thought I was just collateral, a powerless figurehead he could control and eventually discard to settle his debts.
I had endured this loveless marriage to survive in the family, yet he treated me worse than dirt while elevating a mistress who knew nothing of our world.
I was suffocating in a cage of neglect, enraged by the audacity of a coward who broke every sacred vow.
So, I took off my vulgar wedding ring and left it on his bathroom sink.
I picked up my phone and sent a message to Dante Falcone, the exiled heir who had stitched my flesh back together in secret.
This time, I chose to burn my husband's empire to the ground. 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. Pampered By The Rival Syndicate Don
Jing Yue As I lay in the cold underground clinic, terminating the unborn heir of the city's most feared mafia underboss, my phone lit up.
My fiancé of seven years had just publicly pledged his protection and a home-cooked meal to his ex-lover, moments after telling me to risk a deadly ambush by ordering takeout.
When I returned to our penthouse, bleeding and broken, he didn't even notice.
He gave my specialized prenatal milk to his ex because she had a "delicate stomach," leaving me only a hollowed-out egg white and dry crusts.
When I begged him to stay, he violently kicked my packed suitcase across the marble floor.
"Elena's medical needs take priority right now," he snapped, rushing out because his ex felt cold.
He even blocked my secure number when I frantically tried to reach him one last time.
For seven years, we had built an empire together.
I couldn't understand how a past flame playing the fragile doe could make him discard my life and our child's existence so callously, treating me like worthless scraps.
Sitting in the empty penthouse, I wiped my tears and opened the global Syndicate network.
"My betrothal to Vincent is officially dissolved. Act accordingly."
I powered down my phone, grabbed my tactical gear, and boarded a private jet to leave his territory forever. 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." 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. 
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