Xia Yingxi
17 Published Stories
Xia Yingxi's Books and Stories
I Switched Our Sons First
Mafia As my husband—the most feared Mafia Don in the city—lay dying, I stood by his bed playing the perfect, grieving wife.
But with his dying breath, he confessed a horrifying secret: twenty-six years ago, he secretly swapped our newborn infants in the hospital.
He told me he gave my flesh and blood to his mistress so her child could inherit the empire safely, while leaving his own legitimate son to rot in the slums.
Before I could even process the betrayal, his mistress and her thug son burst into the hospital suite.
"I grew up in the gutter while your fake son wore custom suits," the street rat spat, kicking the bedframe. "I want the penthouses and the millions in cash by tomorrow."
The mistress paraded around the room, gloating about how her bloodline would now rule the underworld.
Lorenzo signed the entire Syndicate over to the Underboss—the son he believed was hers—leaving me with nothing but a violent, greedy parasite.
They thought they had won. They thought I was just a discarded, empty shell, completely stripped of my power, my legacy, and my child.
But as I watched the ink dry on the will, I buried a cold, triumphant smile.
They didn't know one crucial detail.
Twenty-six years ago, I was awake when he made the swap. And in the dead of night, I had crept down to her room and switched the babies right back. Discarded By Him, Claimed By The Enemy
Modern I fought for the NorthCom mercenary team for five years, bleeding for them and treating them like family.
But during a brutal blizzard extraction, after I was gutted and exposed to a deadly neurotoxin to protect our flank, my commander, Jeffrey, called for a sudden vote.
He calmly asked the team who was in favor of leaving me behind.
One by one, the men and women whose lives I had just saved raised their hands.
Jeffrey looked down at me, his eyes completely devoid of emotion, and casually kicked my desperate hand away from his boot.
"This is for the good of the company, Etta. It's a calculated loss."
They stripped me of my weapons, tossed a plastic-wrapped first-aid kit into the snow, and flew away in their warm helicopter, leaving me to freeze to death.
As the ice seeped into my bones, the agonizing truth hit me. I was nothing but a disposable tool. A minor, pathetic footnote in Jeffrey's glorious corporate rise. I had sacrificed my life for people who viewed me as garbage the second I became a liability.
But the person who stepped out of the howling storm to save me wasn't a friend.
It was Kraig Crawford, the ruthless CEO of the rival syndicate and Jeffrey's deadliest enemy.
He pumped his own blood into my dying veins, his eyes burning with a dark, terrifying obsession.
"You're my war prize now."
I didn't know what this monster truly wanted with me, but as my heart started beating again, I made a promise to myself. I was done being a calculated loss. She Was Unwanted, Now She's Queen
Werewolf For three years, I swallowed a bitter pill daily, suppressing my royal white wolf bloodline for a normal life as the Alpha's Luna. That morning, my husband Santino coldly announced a crucial announcement, then entered our grand hall with another woman, declaring, "Alessia, she will be living here from now on."
She was pregnant, he announced, carrying our late Beta's child-yet her neck was unmarked. My scoff met his furious Alpha dominance, threatening my title, forcing my bow as he settled her into the suite next to ours.
Her sickening scent soon permeated my private study. Later, I found him intimately grooming her in the kitchen-a sacred act for mates-while he snarled mental insults, branding my jealousy pathetic.
Watching his hands violate our vows, a slow, cruel smirk pulled at my lips. My three-year marriage was officially over. I had already paused my royal trust fund's capital, then severed our mind link with a chilling declaration: "Don't touch me with the hands that just touched her." The Jilted Wife's Ruthless Wall Street Return
Modern For three years, Adriene Rodgers gave up her brilliant Wall Street career to be the perfect, devoted wife to billionaire Dallin Morales.
But one night, she overheard him talking to his lawyer, a confession that shattered her world.
"Adriene is exactly what I need her to be. A perfect social shield to keep the cameras busy so Elaina can live in peace."
Elaina was his late brother's widow. Dallin coldly admitted that touching his wife made him physically sick, and he only stomached it by closing his eyes and thinking of Elaina.
From that moment, the nightmare escalated. Elaina framed Adriene at every turn—slashing Adriene's beloved dog to death and throwing herself into a pool to play the victim. Dallin blindly believed the widow. He shoved Adriene so hard she cracked her head open on the marble deck, leaving her bleeding on the ground while he tenderly carried Elaina away.
The ultimate betrayal came when Adriene's father went into sudden cardiac failure. Desperate, she begged Dallin for the life-saving hospital funds.
Instead, Dallin ruthlessly froze every single one of her bank accounts.
"Go get on your knees and apologize to Elaina. Do that, and I will unfreeze your cards."
Standing in the freezing rain while Dallin's Rolls-Royce sped off to comfort Elaina's fake panic attack, Adriene's heart finally turned to ice. How could she have wasted three years of devotion on a man who would use her dying father as a bargaining chip for a manipulative parasite?
She didn't shed another tear. After borrowing money to save her father, she secretly signed the divorce papers and left them in a Hermès anniversary box on his desk. Then, she pulled out her old resume and sent it directly to his biggest corporate rivals. The submissive wife was dead, and it was time to burn his empire to the ground. The Reborn Heiress: Betting On Chaos
Modern I woke up gasping for air, my fingers clawing at a neck that was smooth instead of bruised. The air smelled of lavender and expensive starch, not the metallic tang of blood and the mold of the basement where I had just died.
A text flashed on my phone from Derrick, the man I thought was the love of my life: "Good morning, my angel. I can't wait to see you tonight." The heart emoji mocked me, a remnant of a girl who was once stupid, blind, and pathetically in love.
In my past life, I was the perfect, submissive fiancée. I didn't realize the "vitamins" Derrick gave me were actually a cocktail of drugs designed to keep me foggy and compliant while he and my own uncle dismantled my father’s company. I stood by him as my parents died in a "car accident" that I now know was a murder he orchestrated. By the time I realized I was married to the devil, he had already stripped me of my wealth, my family, and finally, my breath.
I stared at the gold-embossed calendar on the vanity: June 12, 2014. The day of our engagement party. The day I originally signed my life away to a monster who saw me as nothing more than a bank account to be drained.
I felt a cold, sharp rage replace the terror. I wasn't going to be the victim this time. I wasn't going to take his pills or wear the modest, pastel dress he chose to make me look like a saint.
"I need a match," I whispered to the most dangerous man in the city, Branch Brewer, as I gripped his tie in a hotel hallway. "I want to spend your money until Derrick chokes on it. I want to watch his empire crack."
Reborn on the morning of the gala, I’ve traded my white lace for black silk. The guest list is set, the press is waiting, and Derrick thinks he’s about to win it all. He has no idea that the "fragile" girl he murdered is back to burn his world to the ground. From Tortured Wife To Mafia Queen
Mafia I posted a photo of baby shoes to celebrate my pregnancy. Two hours later, my husband was holding jumper cables.
Kaeden, the Mafia Capo who swore to protect me, stood under the buzzing fluorescent lights of the basement.
He didn't look like the man who brought me vanilla lattes. He looked like a monster.
His "fragile" childhood friend, Clemmie, had convinced him that my innocent post was a signal to our enemies.
"Discipline," Kaeden muttered, refusing to look at my weeping face. "She needs to learn the cost of her voice."
He ordered low voltage—just enough to scare me.
But the moment he walked out the door, unable to watch, Clemmie smiled.
"He's not coming back for you," she whispered.
She cranked the dial all the way to the right.
She didn't just want to teach me a lesson. She wanted to stop my heart so she could harvest it for herself.
And my husband had already signed the release forms.
But they made one mistake. They left the cleanup to Alois, the family's most ruthless Enforcer.
He didn't bury me. He saved me.
Now, while Kaeden cries over a fake grave, consumed by guilt, I am watching from the shadows.
Daria Burris died in that chair.
The woman who survived is coming for blood. Three Years, One Cruel Lie
Modern For three years, my fiancé Jaxon kept me in a top Swiss clinic, helping me recover from the PTSD that shattered my life. When I was finally accepted into Juilliard, I booked a one-way ticket to New York, ready to surprise him and start our future.
But as I was signing my discharge papers, the receptionist handed me an official certificate of recovery. It was dated a full year ago.
She explained that my "medication" for the last twelve months had been nothing but vitamin supplements. I had been perfectly healthy, a prisoner held captive by forged medical reports and lies.
I flew home and went straight to his private club, only to overhear him laughing with his friends. He was married. He had been for the entire three years I was locked away.
"I've been handling Alina," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "A few tweaked reports, the right 'medication' to keep her foggy. It bought me the time I needed to secure my marriage to Krystal."
The man who swore to protect me, the man I worshipped, had orchestrated my imprisonment. My love story was just a footnote in his.
Later that night, his mother slid a check across the table. "Take this and disappear," she ordered.
Three years ago, I had thrown a similar check in her face, declaring my love wasn't for sale. This time, I picked it up.
"Alright," I said, my voice hollow. "I'll leave. After my father's death anniversary, Jaxon Francis will never find me again." Online Shame, Real-Life Victory
Modern The lines of code glowed, green and satisfying. It was almost 11 PM, and I, Sarah, a data analyst by trade and a numbers person by nature, was finally done for the day.
Then, a trending video popped up. My face, my building, and a headline: "Dedicated Employee or Work-Life Imbalance?"
My stomach clenched. Comments flooded in, a digital deluge of pity and objectification. "Wow, she looks so plain." "Probably single. A guy could just walk up to her and she'd probably be grateful."
It was disgusting. I felt watched, assessed, categorized by strangers. Unsafe.
My brothers were on their way, a familiar comfort. But then, he walked in. Chad. A self-proclaimed "Good Samaritan" challenge participant, selfie stick in hand, beaming that too-perfect smile.
He wanted me to be his content. I refused, but he ignored it, flicking my nose with a condescending playfulness. "A pretty girl like you shouldn't be frowning."
Rage exploded inside me. I stood, demandmg he leave. With a dramatic sigh, he walked away, still filming. My phone, my lifeline, flickered and died.
Just as relief washed over me, the glass doors slid open again. Chad was back. And he had a huge bouquet of roses.
A sickly-sweet smell. Dizziness. He was trying to drug me. I fought, screamed, and pepper-sprayed him.
But the sedative was working. I collapsed, only to see him standing there again when the elevator doors chimed open. He'd circled back.
Then the security guard, Tom, appeared. Chad, with chilling precision, recited my personal details, painting me as a dramatic girlfriend in a "lover's quarrel." Tom bought it.
The world went dark as I fell, not to the floor, but into Chad's arms. He whispered in my ear: "Your colleague Mark sends his regards. He didn't appreciate you reporting him to HR." His Last Regret, My New Life
Romance The grand hall of the Thompson estate. The scent of expensive flowers and a decade of my family' s fading name. Tonight, I, Sarah Miller, was the offering, a supposed "lucky charm" to merge our dying empire with the titans of the Thompson Corporation.
But the truth was, I was just a broodmare, chosen to birth their legacy, just like in my first life.
The memory wasn' t a dream; it was a brand etched into my soul. The cold concrete floor, the smell of dust and ozone. I was tied to a chair, my body weak from giving birth to my three children.
Across the room, David, the man I was forced to marry, stood over three small, still forms on a steel table. "The offerings are ready," a scientist said, his voice flat. "The biological processors will give the AI an unparalleled learning curve."
Biological processors. Offerings. No.
I screamed, a ragged sound. "David, no! Please, not our children!"
He grabbed my hair, back. "Our children? You manipulative witch! You tricked my mother into making me have these… abominations with you!" He gestured to a photo: Olivia Reed, "My Love." "You ruined everything! She was pregnant with my true heir! But you and your cursed luck forced my hand."
He forced a bitter liquid down my throat. My world went black.
And then, I woke up.
Back in the Thompson' s grand hall, the scent of flowers choking me. Mrs. Thompson held my hand. David stood beside her, his eyes holding the same cold hatred.
We were back. The day of our forced engagement.
Before the nightmare could begin again, I pulled my hand from Mrs. Thompson' s grasp. My voice small, unsteady, I said, "Mrs. Thompson… I can' t accept."
This time, he wanted Olivia. He believed her child was his key to power. I would hand him the shovel and watch him dig his own grave. His Secret Billionaire Game
Billionaires My name is Ethan Lester, and for five years, I' ve been living a lie. The world knows me as the "trophy husband" to Hollywood mogul Jocelyn Lind, a stay-at-home dad ridiculed, mocked, and paid millions for my public humiliation. What they don't know? My wife' s contemptuous family, who forced this contractual marriage, is unknowingly bleeding money to my secret FinTech company, Apex Innovations.
Then, the unthinkable happened. My children vanished from school.
The kidnappers demanded $100 million in untraceable crypto. Before the shock could even register, Jocelyn's own brothers called, feigning concern, only to demand she sign over her controlling media shares as "collateral" for the ransom. They were vultures, using the kidnapping of their own niece and nephew as a twisted power play.
I watched Jocelyn' s face crumble in despair, the full, sickening weight of their betrayal hitting her. My mind reeled. How could family be so monstrous? How could they weaponize our children for a corporate takeover?
But their greed unveiled a truth they never saw coming. With a single, chilling word, I refused their "help," and placed a call. They just made the gravest mistake of their lives. My Sacrifice, Her Deception
Romance For five grueling years, my concert pianist hands knew only the grease and steel of a West Texas oil rig. I sweated, burned, and broke every bone in my body, all to pay off a half-million-dollar debt my girlfriend, Gabby, claimed her failed startup had accrued. My sacrifice was for her, to save the woman I loved.
Finally, with the last payment in hand, I drove three hours to a Dallas steakhouse, anticipating our future. Instead, I walked into a private dining room and witnessed my entire world shatter.
Gabby, impossibly elegant, was laughing with her childhood friend, Wesley, the man who supposedly owned her debt. My foreman and the debt collector were there too, fawning over her.
I heard the foreman proudly declare I' d saved the half-million. Gabby, stroking Wesley' s hand, casually stated, "It' s fine. I' ll just sign another IOU for two million. Make sure he' s stuck on that rig for the rest of his life."
Wesley leaned in, kissing her cheek, "Perfect. I just saw a vintage Porsche for a cool half-million."
Ms. Fuller. Fuller Oil & Gas.
The rig I' d bled on was hers. The debt was a lie.
My sacrifice, a cruel game orchestrated to punish me for an abandonment that never happened-a narrative Wesley had twisted years ago after a caving accident, making her believe I' d left her for dead, even burning my musical future.
My blood ran cold. The air left my lungs. How could the woman I loved, the one I crippled myself for, orchestrate such a monstrous betrayal? This wasn't just about money; it was about destroying my life, my spirit.
But now, I had a choice. Reclaim my broken dream, or let this monstrous lie consume me. I turned to walk away, but then I stopped. I had one last, definitive move to make before I finally walked free. Your Stolen Dreams, My Rebuilt Empire
Romance I never thought I'd see David Miller again.
For seven years, I' d been the ghost of Ash Carter, the once-promising architecture student whose dreams he' d stolen, whose career he' d sabotaged.
Now, a single mom doing freelance drafting to pay the bills, I found myself in a children's museum, comforting my son Leo after a scraped knee.
Then, his voice.
Theatrically loud, cutting through the din.
David, impeccably suited, with a preppy assistant clinging to his arm.
He spotted me, his eyes lighting up with a sickening, triumphant gleam.
Before a crowd of strangers and his colleagues, he pulled out our old university portfolio, the very project he' d claimed as his own.
He draped himself in false sorrow, claiming he' d "never stopped thinking about what we had," implying Leo was his son.
He gestured at my comfortable but simple jeans, offering to "help me get back on my feet."
His colleagues watched, pitying him, scorning me as the woman who' d let a genius slip away.
My past, his crime, was put on public display, twisted into a narrative of my failure and his magnanimity.
A cold calm settled over me.
How could he be this brazen?
This utterly devoid of shame?
He truly believed I was still pining for him, still broken by his betrayal.
My heart ached for the injustice, for the years he' d condemned me to anonymity.
But then, I lifted my hand.
The art-deco sapphire ring glinted under the museum lights.
"And I'm married," I stated, my voice clear and firm.
His confidence wavered, but only for a second.
"Ridiculous! Who would marry you?" he sneered.
Just as his pitying gaze returned, a quiet voice cut through: "Is there a problem here, Ash?"
My husband, Michael Vance, stepped forward, and David' s world began to unravel. The Betrayer's Inheritance
Modern Scarlett Hayes, from a once-proud Southern family now teetering on ruin, arrived at the exclusive Kentucky Derby Charity Gala, hoping a connection with the influential Blackwood family could be her salvation.
Instead, she became the unwitting target of a cruel "auction" by the arrogant Blackwood sons, culminating in Charlie Blackwood Jr. publicly humiliating her by announcing his engagement to her stepsister, Brittany, revealing it was all a sadistic game to "put her in her place."
The ultimate betrayal came days later: drugged and waking up disoriented in a cheap motel, photos of her disheveled state instantly ruined her reputation, leaving her father shattered and her own future a devastating, inescapable void.
The crushing despair of her ruined life, filled with unanswered questions and profound betrayal, became an unbearable weight, dragging her into an abyss she couldn't escape, leaving her soul utterly broken.
Then, with a jolt, she woke up in her bed-it was the morning of the Kentucky Derby Gala again, a second chance born from the ashes of her humiliation, ready to wage a ruthless war against the dynasty that destroyed her. The Hidden Founder's Fury
Modern My daughter, Lily, just won the Grand Prize at the California State Youth Tech Challenge, securing a coveted spot at MIT’s summer program.
Pure joy lit up her face after years of dedication to her "Eco-Clean Bot."
But the applause died instantly as a woman, Jessica Hayes, announced her intention to buy the award for her son with a $500,000 donation.
The organizer, citing a "sponsor’s priority clause," surprisingly agreed.
Jessica and her smug son, Brandon, mocked Lily, sneering that her hard work was useless against their family’s money.
Then, the man I trusted, Mark Olsen, CEO of *my* company and Lily’s father, brazenly sided with them.
He publicly declared Jessica the "love of his life" and abandoned us, choosing his mistress over his daughter’s dream.
My heart shattered watching Lily’s face crumple, seeing her future stolen by this betrayal.
How could the man whose career I built, using my own money, so cruelly humiliate us both?
But as he sealed his fate, denying his own family, I knew this charade had served its purpose.
The time for the true power behind Nova Dynamics to step into the light, and exact a cold, precise vengeance, had arrived. You might like
Betrayed by My Boyfriend, Claimed by the Mafia Boss
Krystal Catherine loved Marco with all her heart.
Until she discovered that he had betrayed her with her own sister.
Instead of defending Catherine, her family blamed her for standing in the way of their happiness. To them, she was nothing more than an unwanted daughter who had ruined the love story between Marco and the sister they had always favored.
So Catherine gave them exactly what they wanted.
She gave up Marco. She gave up the family that had never truly seen her as one of their own. Just when she thought her life couldn't get any worse, her parents sold her for twenty thousand dollars to an old, ugly man who had already been married once.
Catherine thought her life was over.
Then a stranger appeared and offered her a way out.
His name was Lorenzo.
He offered Catherine a contract marriage.
He needed a wife.
She needed protection.
It seemed like a simple arrangement, and Catherine never expected it to change her life forever.Because she didn't know who Lorenzo really was.
To the world, Lorenzo was a ruthless billionaire and the heir to one of the country's most powerful business empires.
Behind closed doors, he was far more dangerous.
He was the heir to a Mafia dynasty, a man who controlled an empire built on blood, fear, and absolute power.
When Lorenzo offered Catherine a marriage of convenience, she accepted without hesitation.
He needed a wife.
She needed protection.
Neither of them wanted love.
At least, that was what they told themselves.
But after Catherine became Mrs. Romano, Lorenzo's rules began to change. He wanted to know where she went, who she spoke to, and which man dared look at her for too long. The more Catherine tried to keep their marriage strictly business, the more possessive Lorenzo became.
He no longer wanted a temporary wife.
He wanted Catherine completely.
Then Marco finally realized he had made the biggest mistake of his life and came back for her. He expected Catherine to still be the woman who waited for him, forgave him, and accepted whatever affection he was willing to offer.
But Catherine was no longer that woman.
The daughter her family discarded had become the wife of the most dangerous man in the underworld.
And Lorenzo Romano would burn the world down before he let anyone take his wife away. Shadows of the Vow (You Fuck With Darkness, You See Shadows)
Jennie N She entered his world as prey. Now, she's learning to bite back.
After her mother's death, Annabelle Gracia seeks fragile solace in the flower shop-until her father trades her to Antonioni D'Angélo, the ruthless mafia billionaire known as The Shadow King. Nights with him burn with pain, pleasure, and control. His coldness shields a heart hunted by a dangerous fraternity, one that will not forgive tenderness-love is a risk he cannot afford. Yet desire refuses to be silenced. In their world, love is weakness, and weakness could destroy them both.
Antonioni is not just another mafia heir; he is a force who commands the world's shadows. Beyond the empire most will never see: high-stakes deals in European marketplaces, clandestine arms trades, and the quiet power of a man who moves money, influence, and danger across continents.
Once fragile, she rises. No longer a pawn, she becomes his fiercest ally and mafia queen, his quiet hope. But betrayal is never far, and enemies wait in the shadows. When Nora, the daughter of one of their deadliest rivals, enters their world, alliances shatter, and danger multiplies.
In a world ruled by secrets and scars, can love save them... or destroy them? Rejected While Pregnant, I Reclaimed My Power
Shangyou Fusu While I was pregnant, my husband held a party downstairs for another woman's son.
Through a hidden mental link, I overheard my husband, Don Dante Rossi, tell his consigliere he was going to publicly reject me tomorrow. He planned to make his mistress, Serena, his new mate.
An act forbidden by ancient law while I carried his heir.
Later, Serena cornered me, her smile venomous. When Dante appeared, she shrieked, clawing her own arm and blaming me for the attack.
Dante didn't even look at me. He snarled a command that froze my body and stole my voice, ordering me from his sight as he cradled her.
He moved her and her son into our master suite. I was demoted to the guest room at the end of the hall.
Passing her open door, I saw him rocking her baby, humming the lullaby my own mother used to sing to me.
I heard him promise her, "Soon, my love. I'll sever the bond and give you the life you deserve."
The love I felt for him, the power I'd hidden for four years to protect his fragile ego, all turned to ice.
He thought I was a weak, powerless wife he could discard. He was about to find out that the woman he betrayed was Alessia De Luca, princess of the most powerful family on the continent.
And I was finally going home. The Capo's Regret: The Curse Was A Lie
Qing Cheng For fifteen years, my husband Bennett refused to let me get pregnant.
"My blood is a curse, Kelsey," he would say, gripping my hand with terrified intensity. "It kills the women who carry it. I won't risk you."
I believed him. I mourned the children we never had just to stay alive for him.
Then he brought Aria home.
He claimed she was a distant cousin in trouble. But from the shadows of the ballroom, I watched him caress her swollen belly with a tenderness he never showed me.
When I confronted him, the mask fell.
"You provide the image, Kelsey," he said coldly. "She provides the bloodline. Do not make a scene."
To teach me a lesson in obedience, my horse's reins were sabotaged.
I woke up in the hospital with a fractured leg, only to learn he had ignored my emergency calls to hold Aria’s hand during a routine ultrasound.
Lying in that sterile bed, the truth hit me harder than the fall.
There was no curse.
He had medically gaslighted me for a decade, stealing my fertility with a lie, just to replace me with a mistress he called "cousin."
He thought he had broken me. He thought I would fade quietly into the east wing.
Instead, I wiped my tears and planted listening devices in his office.
He wanted a legacy?
I boarded a train to Paris, leaving behind a bomb that would burn his entire world to ash. Reclaiming The Crown From My Ex-Husband
Roseanautora I am Serena Vitiello. My family's bloodline was the shield that allowed my husband, Salvatore, to become an untouchable mafia boss.
However, at the national syndicate summit, he actually claimed his power was all thanks to his mistress, Chiara. He even took off my heavy family gold signet ring and slipped it onto her finger.
To completely break my spirit, he intentionally forced me to eat a plate of scallops, knowing full well I was allergic.
He watched coldly as my throat swelled until I couldn't breathe.
When I confronted that mistress at the headquarters, Salvatore actually slapped me hard to the ground in front of my loyal soldiers.
What was even more outrageous was that Chiara took a forged ultrasound report, claiming she was pregnant with Salvatore's heir. This shock was too much for my grandfather's heart to bear, ultimately triggering a fatal heart attack.
"Let's go, we have another party to attend."
Salvatore said to her with a smile, turning away without even glancing at the flatline on my grandfather's heart monitor.
He thought I was just a broken, submissive wife who would quietly give up my crown. He naively believed he had built this empire all by himself, forgetting that all these years, I was the one secretly using my family's fortune to cover his millions of dollars in losses. I was the one who bought off those judges to keep his business running for a decade.
So, when he slammed the divorce papers on the table, demanding that I transfer all the family's territories to him, I lowered my head and signed.
He couldn't wait to snatch the pen and excitedly signed his name on the agreement, completely unaware that he had just legally taken over eighty million dollars of cartel debt. Meanwhile, I had already transferred all the clean money under my name. 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.
Mafia Princess: Escaping His Deadly Lie
Xiao Youzi For three years, a rare liver disease has been killing me. Through it all, my husband Julian has been my rock. Our last hope was a black-market liver, secured through a life-debt owed to my family, the Volkov Bratva.
But from my hospital bed, I overheard him promise that very liver to another woman.
It was for his mistress's mother.
I soon discovered he had a four-year-old daughter with her. Their family was established; I was just the placeholder. On a hidden security feed, I watched him in my dead parents' penthouse—a sacred place he forbade me from visiting—bouncing their child on his knee.
Then he fastened the diamond necklace he'd bought for my birthday around his mistress's neck.
The final blow came when I heard her whisper, "Just a little longer... the fever will do the rest."
He wasn't just leaving me. He was actively trying to kill me.
The love I had for him didn't just die; it turned to a cold, hard stone in my chest. The man whose devotion I never questioned now made my skin crawl with revulsion.
The next morning, I signed myself out of the hospital against medical advice. I left my wedding ring and the signed divorce papers on the entryway table, blocked his number, and walked out of our house without looking back. The Lover Who Became My Killer
Edilaine Beckert The first time I kidnapped my lover's mistress, he had me killed for it. I gave him eight years, built his empire brick by bloody brick, and was secretly carrying his child.
But for a fragile art student, he had me drugged on a gurney.
I was awake as a back-alley doctor cut our baby from my womb. I heard our child's single cry, then silence.
"Anything that threatens her, I will destroy," he whispered, his voice void of all emotion. "Even you. Even our child."
He then left me for his men to violate and discard. My last thought was that I was just a queen he was willing to sacrifice for a pretty new pawn.
But then my eyes snapped open.
I was in my car, my stomach flat, my hands gripping the steering wheel. The date on my phone seared itself into my brain. I was back on the day of the first kidnapping.
This time, I wouldn't be a sacrifice. This time, I would survive. 
/1/119250/coverorgin.jpg?v=1acf659610aa48860ae03e0f29029cb4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/118276/coverorgin.jpg?v=ca3824f91444343ddbd28905b4499fe4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/115357/coverorgin.jpg?v=db411c7d959a06ed4005ca142e0d90bc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/114455/coverorgin.jpg?v=94e297a67c134a55ab49ad006222ca38&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113659/coverorgin.jpg?v=33651bf54cb7add0cb74c41c4e7c9043&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/112297/coverorgin.jpg?v=dd4b2598d8e34bb6161e0790fb75aa0b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/107151/coverorgin.jpg?v=7cedfcbd21c6c42756534b21822df2c7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/104950/coverorgin.jpg?v=467bb044fb4534ca7c2fa6d69f3f8c87&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/90178/coverorgin.jpg?v=7ebe7abb4518e0b613284bf731f6547a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85932/coverorgin.jpg?v=61718712a2854f9c65a6e9cc7a7e711e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85734/coverorgin.jpg?v=2fd073b64fb89f7a7355a70d066fb056&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/84335/coverorgin.jpg?v=fce232c01e7b72f5fe297305b47a22db&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/84215/coverorgin.jpg?v=75c146221db24a48c43f4d6a82933adc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/82053/coverorgin.jpg?v=0bf6baa31ed18f0aa23bfcc733b4c028&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/81608/coverorgin.jpg?v=c1ae43fedbd015c03b5fb603518965df&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80482/coverorgin.jpg?v=6a0ffc6efc11decfcde419a3a1b39d2f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/18764/coverorgin.jpg?v=58d9cde964916200fee671015d0c9fdf&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/131527/coverorgin.jpg?v=f68f55732b652de9b6b58595d3e984ed&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113925/coverorgin.jpg?v=7234b1637f8eea10bd4b1cd4629a74a1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/104584/coverorgin.jpg?v=774aab6a6a3be6899d1903e97a92ea52&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/114593/coverorgin.jpg?v=1f0abadb92826dfe6f37b82c220df82d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/100386/coverorgin.jpg?v=87c9b5906bb82e9d441383d9fe57406b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/125689/coverorgin.jpg?v=7f4faec2c5b98c6c48d72e45c90bc561&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/114138/coverorgin.jpg?v=164013c02dfb792cf8a9a1af73947c2c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/106756/coverorgin.jpg?v=97365198d2e42e4794a57a69368cfbf7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/96394/coverorgin.jpg?v=1c658151d6984acf5a1df9673906504e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/95223/coverorgin.jpg?v=251641eaf4a6d10c378c6016b89eeee5&imageMogr2/format/webp)