Saved By The Mafia Boss.

Alpha's Puppet

In a werewolf world where wolves still belive in gods and decisions are made that females shouldn't rule. Alina sets to break this record, with this she set some goals for herself; she is going to be the first female Alpha at all cost, she is going to make history even if it means she has to blaspheme the gods. But how exactly is she going to achieve this? find out in this trilling sweet novel that would leave you in an amusing spirit.

Christmas With the Wolves

"S-Save me!" Roxanne ran desperately, pushing her body to its limits as she feared for her life. Her eyes darted across the vast woods, searching for the apparition she had seen before she took to her heels. Then she saw it, the thing which relentlessly pursued her. The shadow resembled something she had never seen before, a man, a beast, she had no idea. The only certainty she had left was the fact that it was after her. "Someone... Someone help me!" She cried. Her voice was lost in the large expanse of dried barks and wilted branches. The snowy field of thorns and the cold winds of winter seemed to swallow her entire being, almost like it choked her. Her breathing became uneven as she panted due to exhaustion, yet she couldn't stop running. Doing so would mean her end. As she dashed through the cold and snowy path, she could hear it getting closer. "Grrrrrrrrrrrr"   The sound sent shivers down her spine. She willed herself with every fiber of her being not to look behind her for the fear of what she might see. She could feel it's gaze on her, she could hear the sound of it's growl. Roxanne could sense her pursuer's nearing proximity as she fled for her life. Many questions raced through her mind, but she didn't have the luxury to answer any of them. The only thing at the forefront of her mind was survival. Fortunately for her, the falling snow had ceased, else she would have been in a much more awry state. She just had to keep her legs moving until she reached the road intersection where she would get help. Yes, help would come! She heard creaking sounds above her, from the branches of the trees behind and beside her.  The monster was pouncing on them, keeping pace with her desperate sprint. She looked around her, but the creature moved too fast for her eyes to clearly capture its movements. It was as though the beast was toying with her, playing a game it knew it would win. ~ Coming to her grandma's in the woods for Christmas after an heated argument with her mom, Roxanne has never thought she would experience something like this. "Mine" The voice roared.

MAFIA HUSBAND

A twenty six year old Isabella, who aspires to be a baker is hooked in an arranged marriage with a mafia prince she hates. Little does she know that it is all to save her life from a predator who wants her as his prey. * * What do you mean I am getting married to Lucas Crawford!!!! I exclaimed. That guy is a damn womanizer and am not ready to get married, for Christ sake I want to be a successful baker first!!! I added shouting Calm down sweetie, mom tried to percify me but dad cut her short. Now listen two me young lady, you are my daughter and I know what's best for you and no daughter of mine would be a worthless baker, so shut up and get dressed the Crawford's are having dinner with us.. He shouted. Of course no daughter of the great McKenzie family can be a baker isn't it? How absurd, oh I know this is another one of your business isn't it? Well Mr McKenzie I hope you sell your daughter for a very good price... I ranted but he cut me short with a slap. I looked at my once loving father and ran upstairs to my room. Isabella!!!! Mom tried calling me but I turned deaf ears I know what to do. Lucas Crawford Ceo of The Crawford Automobile industry, Bad ass womanizer and a Rude idiot. Our parts crossed once and am never going to marry that idiot.

A Night With My Boss

Brown eyes, with huge muscular body of a Greek god, Billionaire city sweetheart and big time player, Alexander Montero had a night of fun with his Personal Assistant "Petra George", a lady with great curves, with light brown eyes, intelligent with great personality. Though both has always nursed feelings for each other, but they never really showed it, To Petra he was her boss and to Alex she isn't his type. Sacking her heartlessly from her Job, the morning of the night they had sex, Alex couldn't stop thinking about her and planned his wedding with a mini devil Skyler thinking Petra would come running. Petra on the other hand finds out she is pregnant with her bosses baby. Petra's best friend "Ariana" alongside her boyfriend"Liam" who is also Alex best friend tried uniting them but it's going to be a rollercoaster of Love, Betrayal, Death, deceit and many more. Sit back, grab your popcorn and read yet another unique billionaire romance drama.

She Took The House, The Car, And My Heart

After two years of marriage, Kristian dropped a bombshell. "She's back. Let's get divorced. Name your price." Freya didn't argue. She just smiled and made her demands. "I want your most expensive supercar." "Okay." "The villa on the outskirts." "Sure." "And half of the billions we made together." Kristian froze. "Come again?" He thought she was ordinary-but Freya was the genius behind their fortune. And now that she'd gone, he'd do anything to win her back.

Seven Years A Fool, One Day A Queen

Everyone knew Kristine loved Colton. Still, his heart clung to a woman overseas-someone he spent most days with, now pregnant with his baby-and Kristine still asked him to marry her. On their registration day, however, he never came; his "true love" had flown back. Seven years of loyalty later, Kristine walked away, blocked him, and left his city. Colton didn't blink-until he saw her at the courthouse, arm-in-arm with another man, and the proud CEO went pale. He went after her, desperation overtaking him. "I'm sorry. Please give me another chance." She snapped, "Could you stop? I'm already married."

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband's Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn't find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn't even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father's legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn's party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara's health and managing every detail of Caden's empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I'd drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause-if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I'd forgotten.

Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable

My five-year-old daughter was dying in the ICU, her heartbeat replaced by the continuous, electronic scream of a flatline. I gripped her cold hand, my throat sealed shut by a terror so absolute I couldn't even cry out. I dialed my husband Grayson's private number, the one reserved only for me and his assistants. He declined the call instantly. A second later, a text buzzed against my palm: "In a meeting. Do not disturb. Stop calling." Five miles away, Grayson was at a luxury gala, adjusting his silk tie and laughing with Belle Escobar. He told her I was just being "dramatic" and using our daughter's "fever" as an excuse to avoid the event. He had no idea Effie's heart had already stopped. When I finally reached our penthouse, soaked from the rain and carrying Effie's small socks in a plastic bag, Grayson didn't even look at me. He snapped at me for ruining the hardwood floors and asked if I'd left Effie with the nanny just to "feel sorry for myself." Three days later, while I buried our daughter in a small, lonely ceremony, Grayson was at the Hamptons. Belle posted a photo of him golfing with the caption: "A mental health day with the boys." He didn't even attend the funeral, but he returned home demanding I clear out Effie's room to make a study for Belle's son. The injustice burned through me until there was nothing left. I swallowed a handful of sleeping pills, desperate to join my daughter. But instead of the darkness, I woke up to blinding lights and the scent of Grayson's expensive cologne. I was standing in a ballroom, wearing a blue silk dress I had already burned. Above me, a banner read: "Happy 5th Birthday Kaiden & Effie." I was back, exactly one year before the tragedy. This time, I wasn't going to be the grieving wife. I was going to be their worst nightmare.

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

I Hid His Heir from My Alpha

For two years, I was the Alpha's secret wife, a duty he resented. But the positive pregnancy test in my hand was a miracle, a blessing from the Moon Goddess. This baby, our heir, was supposed to be the bridge that finally mended our broken mate bond. That night, he left without a word. I saw on a gossip site that he'd gone to pick up his ex-lover, Isadora. Reaching for him through our bond, I wasn't met with his usual coldness, but with her emotions bleeding through him-triumph and smug possession. The next morning, I went to his office, ready to tell him about our baby, believing our child could fix us. But I stopped when I heard him talking to our Pack Healer about me. The healer said I looked fragile, that he should care for his mate. My husband laughed. "You seem to care for her more than I do," Demetri said, his voice dripping with ice. "Do you want me to give her to you? Take her. She's of no use to me." My world shattered. I wasn't just unloved; I was a thing to be discarded. I looked down at the pregnancy report, the proof of the life inside me, and made a vow. He would never know about our child, and I would sever our bond myself.