862 Book(s) Related to don't look up based on true story

Seventeen days into our silent standoff, I heard my boyfriend of eight years had slept with his childhood friend. He was telling people we’d already broken up. When I called, he asked if I had anything to say. “I do,”I replied. “When do I get my forty-five thousand dollars back?”

My wife was forced to don a wedding dress to marry my sworn enemy, while my three-year-old daughter was locked in an iron cage suspended above the raging sea.

And I, the dignified Commander-in-Chief of the Blackwater Fleet, was forced to wear a dog collar, kneeling on broken glass and licking up red wine like a crippled stray dog.
All because embedded in their necks were biological bombs, the detonator held in the hands of my enemy.

The elites of the entire island ruthlessly mocked my cowardice, trampling me underfoot in ultimate humiliation.

That was until the climax of the maritime wedding, when my enemy smugly pressed the detonator, only for the collars to flash a safe green light—the full-frequency signal decryption was complete.
Amidst the dead silence of the crowd, I snapped the forged steel chains binding me and slowly stood tall.

The next second, ten nuclear-powered submarines violently breached the ocean surface, and tens of thousands of heavily armored death squads descended from the sky.

Looking at my enemy, now terrified to the point of incontinence and shattering his own knees to frantically kowtow and beg for mercy, I picked up that very dog chain and slipped it around his neck.

On our wedding day, my fiancé gave the wedding dress I had made by hand to his sick sister—and let her marry into the DeLuca family in my place.
Everyone told me to give in because she was fragile, while I was strong enough to endure it.
That night, I walked away, revoked my access to the family, and left my mother’s atelier.
Later, his sister’s fake illness was exposed, and my fiancé got down on his knees, begging me to come back.
But I was no longer the woman who would sacrifice everything for them.

In my past life, I replaced my runaway sister Beatrice and was forced to marry mob enforcer Rowan Sinclair.
She thought he was poor with no future, so she ran. My parents didn't even tell me before sending me in her place.
Rowan knew the truth. He carried it like shame, never truly seeing me—only cold stares and silent contempt. I spent years beside him like an unwanted ghost, carefully managing his world while he rose from despised smuggler to feared godfather.
Then his attitude began to change.
Just when I thought we might have a real future, Beatrice returned with tears and lies, claiming I'd stolen her place. Rowan believed her. My parents betrayed me. Everyone chose her.
When a rival family captured us both, guns to our heads, only one could survive.
Rowan pulled Beatrice into his arms and abandoned me without a glance.
They tortured me for three days. The baby in my womb died first. Its father never knew it existed.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back to that afternoon before it all began.

My daughter died on her seventh birthday.
I held her in the cold ward as her body slowly lost all warmth.
Meanwhile, her father—my husband Vincent—was on a mountain top with his mistress, making love to her all night long.
He said, "She’s just a child. There’ll be better ones sooner or later."
He said, "Camila, you’re the only one I love."
He has no idea that he’s killed the only soul in this world that loved him unconditionally.
After the divorce, I am no longer the meek Mrs. Lucchese who begged for his affection.
Funeral, scandal, a worthless bastard...
Everything I lost, I will make him pay for—with his entire family.

"Miss Emily Collombo is three weeks pregnant with your child, Mr. Ferrari."
How could such a mistake happen?
His sperm had been inseminated into the wrong woman. Not just any woman, but Emily Collombo, the very woman engaged to marry his sworn enemy, Marco Russo.
Emily Collombo never had a choice. As the illegitimate daughter of the Collombo Family, she existed only as a bargaining chip, raised to serve the family's interests and forced into marriage with Marco Russo, the heir to one of Italy's most powerful mafia clans.
Her future had already been decided until a devastating error at the hospital shattered everything. A case of medical negligence turned her life upside down.
Now, Emily is carrying the child of Dante Ferrari, the feared Don of the Ferrari Mafia Clan.
The Ferraris are not merely powerful. They rule the underworld with absolute authority, known for their ruthlessness and feared by all who cross their path.

Elena Russo lost the one person who meant the world to her brother, and ever since then; she was deeply fueled by the strong urge for revenge on the family that murdered him.

She dedicated her life to this cause as an understated waitress by day and a renowned genius hacker in the Mafia underworld by night. All her efforts to track down the Moretti family were useless. Everyone knew who they were, yet no one knew them.

What happens when Elena decides to loosen up on a certain night and recklessly has a one-night stand with the same man she had been searching for all her life-Luca Moretti?

And when she finds herself falling deeply for this same person, and facing a shocking revelation that all she had believed for years was nothing but a lie, what happens next?

Why don't you find out?

At the Falcone estate's riding ring, I watched my eight-year-old son Leo mount Starlight, preparing for the most important performance of his young life.
Before the third obstacle, the horse spooked. The instant Leo was thrown, I rushed forward to shield him—the cost was three shattered ribs and a kicked left lung.
When I woke from unconsciousness, I found myself in Dante's private clinic downstairs. From the adjacent room came the doctor's angry voice: "We agreed this was just a marrow extraction. Why did you set up what happened with the horse?"
My husband Dante Falcone's response made my blood run cold: "Leo was Mia's donor. Now that the procedure is complete, there's no point in continuing treatment. Mia is the real heir."
Eight years of marriage. I'd always believed that beneath Dante's cold exterior, Leo was still a son he treasured.
Only now did I understand—from the moment of his birth, Leo had been nothing more than a living donor prepared for his stepsister Mia.
The cruelest irony? Mia, the girl Dante loved so deeply, wasn't even his biological daughter.

I took a submachine gun bullet for Mafia Don Vincenzo Lombardi. I drank poisoned wine for him and bore his heir. To the the entire syndicate, I was his loyal cleaner and lucky talisman.
But the moment he seized ultimate power, he brought her home—my "pure and fragile" adopted sister, Vanessa.
For her, Vincenzo shattered my knees, handed over my title as Donna, and turned my own son against me. He dismissed my broken heart, claiming I was being petty and that she was merely "joining the family."
Yet, the innocent Vanessa was a monster in disguise. She ruthlessly slit her own mother’s throat—the woman who raised me—and locked me in a sub-zero freezer.
When Vincenzo finally pried the heavy iron door open, there was no pity in his eyes. He only offered a cold command: crawl and beg his pregnant new Donna for forgiveness.
Wiping the bloody ice crystals from my lips, I looked at the man I had loved with my life, and rasped my final words: "Vincenzo... I'm dying."

Three years ago, billionaire Theodore Chambers handed Victoria Ellis divorce papers with cold eyes and colder words—all for the sake of his first love, Isabella Waters.
Victoria didn't cry. She didn't beg.
She simply signed her name, walked out of that golden cage, and disappeared from the world of the rich.
What the world didn't expect…
Was for the discarded ex-wife to rise from the ashes—not as a socialite, but as the world's most sought-after reconstructive mortician. Behind every high-profile crime scene and closed casket, she was the one restoring dignity to the dead—and building a name powerful enough to shake law enforcement and the elite alike.
Now, at a funeral of all places, their paths cross again.
She stands beside another man, radiant, untouchable.
He watches in disbelief—his ex-wife, no longer his.
"You handle corpses every day. Aren't you afraid of bad luck?" he growls, grabbing her wrist.
She smiles coldly.
"In my heart, the grass over your grave has already grown two meters tall."
But fate has one final card to play.
When Victoria finds Theodore lying in a pool of blood, clutching an old photo of her, everything unravels.
Was it too late after all?
Or is love just another body she's not willing to reconstruct?

“Oh yes, more. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
I arch my body, reaching the height of intimacy—until a sharp gunshot snuffs out all pleasure. This is how I die in Vito’s arms at twenty-three, four years from now.
Reborn at nineteen, I have one goal: save money, escape to Switzerland, and never cross his path again.
Yet fate traps me once more in his bed. I surrender, trying to set boundaries. “Don’t worry, Don. I have a fiancé. I won’t bother you.”
But this life, Vito is crueler and far more possessive. He invades my life, locking me up and taking away all my freedom.
I attempt another escape, only to be hunted down and dragged back. Shattered and enraged, I shout at him, “Don—no, Vito. You’re a monster.”
Onlookers stare in shock as the fearsome mafia king drops to his knees, begging humbly for me.
“Aria, marry me. Please.”
“My little bird… let’s have a baby. Please.”
He strikes a deal with me: three years. If I never fall in love with him by then, he’ll send me to Switzerland and leave me alone forever.
Still, as he touches me gently, a chilling fear consumes me: Will I end up dying in his bed all over again?

Raella is a struggling waitress hiding from her past; Vincenzo is the ruthless heir to a mafia empire. When Raella crashes his party and accidentally flashes him, she thinks it’s the worst night of her life. She’s wrong. The next day, a sniper shoots up her diner, and Vincenzo is the only one who can save her. His price? A fake marriage. She becomes his wife, his bait, and his obsession. But as the lines between "fake" and "real" blur, Raella realizes the safest place might be in the arms of the monster.

Ten years ago, Clark Russo abandoned Nikolai Petrov on a rooftop and disappeared without a word.

Now, Nikolai is no longer the reckless boy Clark loved. He is the ruthless Don of the Bratva, feared across New York, and he wants revenge. His plan? Marry Clark’s little sister and drag the Russo family to its knees.

But Clark knows the truth. Beneath Nikolai’s rage is the boy he once loved, and beneath the marriage arrangement lies a deadly conspiracy that could end in bloodshed.

Forced back into each other’s lives, old obsession reignites into something dangerous—violent fights, stolen kisses, buried secrets, and a love neither of them ever survived.

In a world ruled by guns, betrayal, and power, loving each other may be the one thing that finally destroys them both.

One moment Isabella's life was perfect—a thriving business, a father finally free from his depression, and the next, she was forced to marry a man she knew nothing about, a man her father looked at alarmingly with so much fear.
But she knew she had to do it. Her father's life was on the line, and their marriage was the only thing that would keep him alive.

Giovanni Christian Genovese, also known as the Masked king of the underworld, had long planned his vengeance after watching his family get massacred by a bunch of lousy small-town men who were supposed to be ‘hitmen’ and he swore to wipe every traces of them off the face of earth, so the moment he learned of Isabella, he knew his plan has been perfected and after all these years, he was ecstatic to finally set it in motion.

Except she wasn't. Not after he went against the deal and killed her father.
Caught in the tangled web of love and hatred, will Isabella choose to sink into agony or rise up to resist with a clear mind?

Eleanor Shaw came to the Sterling estate with a sole and fiery intention-revenge. Disguised as a shy maid, she aimed to take down the person who gave the final orders to her parents' murder-The Sterling family.

The man she encounters, however, is a complex and calculating monarch, rather than a straightforward monster- Alexander Sterling, a cold and cunning mafia boss nicknamed 'The Ghost.' He also recognizes the intelligent mind that lurks beneath the servile facade that Eleanor has adopted.

Caught up in a deadly game of chess and politics, Eleanor’s mission becomes further clouded with a dangerous and rising passion for her sworn nemesis, who is deeply embroiled with the most prominent political family in New York - the Van Horns.

The white ivory queen, Alexander, gives Eleanor the start of their perilous waltz on a checkerboard.

These matches, like their real-life battles, become a reflection of their struggle for power. Every move uncovers another layer of her brilliant mind; every checkmate brings him closer to a truth that could ruin them both.

When Eleanor discovers that her parents' deaths are part of a broader conspiracy reaching the highest levels of both the mafia and the government, she must choose between her lifelong aim for vengeance and the man she set out to destroy.

Alexander, in turn, must choose between the empire he has built and the player who has become crucial to his endgame, even if she now represents his downfall.

Where there is love and revenge, they will understand that their game isn't determined by pieces, but rather through the power of hearts and souls. Whether they separate themselves or create a new future from the past will depend on their final move.

Read on for the final Checkmate!!

You've been selected for consideration. Be at the following address by 7:00 p.m. sharp. Be silent. Be seen. Not a word to anyone.

"You've lived in eight different cities in ten years. No record of parents. Multiple jobs. No formal education past high school."
Ivy stiffened.
He turned, and Ivy's breath caught.
Lorenzo Martinelli.
Ivy had never met him before, but she'd seen his face on gossip sites as few times. The billionaire no one ever saw in person. The untouchable, dangerous man with alleged Mafia ties.
"Why did you come?" he asked.
Ivy met his gaze without blinking. "Curiosity. And five hundred bucks."
He smiled, "Honest. That's rare," he said. "I like that."
Lorenzo stood, "I don't want someone who wants me, I want someone who can survive me."
Ivy literally felt the heat of the fire on her face.
"You don't know me," she said quietly.
"No," he agreed. "But I will."

Ivy Wesley believed that marrying a wealthy stranger would be her golden escape from a life of struggle. Lorenzo Martinelli was supposed to be her way out: her fresh start, her answer to every prayer whispered in the dark.
But the moment the mansion doors shut behind her, Ivy understood the truth. She hadn't stepped into a fairy tale. She had walked straight into the lion's den.

He was supposed to be my stepfather. I was supposed to call him Daddy, instead of baby, my darling, or even my husband. But when my mother was murdered, he suddenly dragged me to the altar to take my mother's place to marry him. As if my mother's murder wasn't shocking enough, I was forced to say I do under his piercing gaze, and even a gun to my ribs. I was scared, and I couldn't refuse. I had to marry a stranger who was supposed to be my stepfather. And worse, I didn't know that my future stepfather, or now my future husband, was a Don. "You'll be safe as long as you use my last name. I'll make sure they won't touch a single hair on your head." "Really? What happened to my mother showed otherwise." "Too bad, Katherine no longer has my last name. And you, you're Fiona Craig now." Life was so strange. In an instant I lost my mother. In an instant I became the wife of the Don, Joshua Craig. And who knows what would happen next. It felt so wrong to us. It felt so wrong to me.

The stranger moved closer, closing the space between him and Anna.

His hand came up, gripping her jaw and tilting her face so she had no choice but to meet his gaze.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

Anna swallowed hard, her pulse racing.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I want you to fuck me so hard I forget about my dickhead of a fiancé.”


Anna Hawkins was never supposed to fall into the arms of a stranger. But after walking in on her fiancé having sex with her best friend, pain drove her into the dark corners of a nightclub and straight into the arms of a man with cold eyes, inked skin, and a body that could ruin her.

Their night was supposed to mean nothing.

But unforeseen circumstances throw Anna into a brutal world of betrayal, power, crime, and possession.

She wasn’t just heartbroken anymore.

She was owned.

And the most dangerous part?

She didn’t know how to escape from her cruel fate.

Micah plowed into her soaking wet pussy as he lost his grip on time and his surroundings.

Snow smirked as she watched him wide eyed from beneath him as her magic started to Buble up from deep within her.

"You really think you can handle me, my dear slave?" She husked while Micah was starting to feel slightly light headed.

"Yes!" He gritted out while he felt his climax approaching faster then lightning.

"ALL of me?" Snow whispered in his ear sensually.

"Yes, yes I..." Micah groaned as he suddenly felt a weird sensation creeping into his body starting from where they were joined together. Snow smirked and let her magic take over and poured it into Micah's receiving body making him lose his mind completely!


Don Micah Santorini, hot headed mafia leader with a wicked Snow Queen of the mystical waste lands. Two opposites coming from different worlds find each other, challenge each other, pushing each other's buttons, neither of them wanting to back down!

What will happen when a cold hearted queen lands in the "backyard" of a hot headed mafia king? Will their struggle for power kill the first petals of love before it has a chance to bloom or will it strengthen their unusual bond and help them to create and claim a new kingdom amidst all the other drama and mysteries?

I'll do anything!" she pleads, grabbing my hands. "I'll do anything. Just let him go. He made a mistake." "That's not an excuse. It was a costly mistake." "Please. I'll do anything you want. Anything at all." I let the silence hang in the air between us as I think carefully, my eyes drawn to how firm and full her tits are. "Anything, princess?" She lets go of my hands and straightens, raising her chin. I watch as she swallows nervously. "Y-Yes. Anything at all."

I raise my fingers to her face, smearing my thumbs with her tears. I trail them down her strong jaw, to her throat, over the small hollow between her collarbones, the skin of her chest, stopping between her tits. I circle the spot quietly while she holds her breath, perhaps in anticipation.
"Would you let me fuck you, Titania?" - Feisty, yet innocent Titania Williams is best known for being at the wrong place at the wrong time, and this time she's getting more than she bargained for.
When her dear Uncle Patrick betrays one of the most powerful Mafia Lords in New York, Kristoff Stavkros, Titania is caught unexpectedly in the underworld web of crimes and deceit. To save her uncle's life, she makes Kristoff an offer.

She'll be his for a month. Thirty days, he owns her body. Stupid, right? But Titania plays by the rules. But how can she come out victorious when Kristoff keeps changing the rules and is hell-bent on making her his forever?

When Alora Marino gets involved in the mafia after making one fateful decision, her bland and ordinary life changes completely.
She rescues the younger brother of a mafia Don, Dante Bellini, and soon after finds herself stuck in a dangerous game.
Torn between her vows as a nurse and the seducing figure of Dante, Alora lives in a mix of dangerous surroundings where new enemies seem to rise everyday.
As threats increase, Alora’s choices will not only impact her, but also the people she cares about. Will Alora make the tough choice between love and loyalty? Or will she run for the hills to save herself?

Tobias Slate was an ex-military—framed, hunted, and now reborn as the silent enforcer for a mafia family.

His new assignment? Dalla Mulvaney, the reckless heir who drinks, fights, and breaks every rule just to prove he’s unfit to lead.

But Tobias has one order, put him in shape to wear the crown, or eliminate him if he becomes too dangerous.

What begins as surveillance becomes obsession. What starts as hatred ignites into something raw and dangerous behind closed doors.

But in their world, the walls are always listening.

When a single act of betrayal destroys everything they’ve built, Tobias is ripped away and Dalla is forced to become the monster he never wanted to be.

Now the only question left is whether the man who was ordered to kill him… will pull the trigger when the time comes.

I married Massimo Salvatore, the mafia don, thirty-two times. And divorced him thirty-two times.

Every single time for the same reason—his precious Claudia came back from her overseas treatment facility.

"She took a bullet to the head for me. Any stress could kill her." That was his only explanation.

The first divorce, I trashed the entire living room. He slapped me across the face: "Cut the DRAMA. We'll get back together once she's stable."

The third time, I followed them to the club and caught them kissing. I confronted him—got locked in the basement for seven days.

Sign the papers, take off the ring, pack my bags. Like a nightmare on repeat.

Until the thirty-third time.

A rival family grabbed both me and Claudia. With a gun to his head, he could only save one of us. I looked at him, voice breaking: "Massimo, just this once, pick me."

He walked toward her.

Four hours later, his men found me in some abandoned warehouse. Three broken ribs, blood everywhere. Our baby—gone.

Massimo camped out by Claudia's hospital bed, wouldn't leave her side. Didn't visit me once. Not even when I got discharged.

That's when I was done.

On the seventh wedding anniversary, I woke up in the lounge and found a big word "BITCH" sprayed with red paint on my chest.
The culprit, holding a spray-paint can, had a naive-looking smile on her face and said, "I'm doing you a favor. Your white outfit's way too boring."
I was just about to take action when my husband rushed in to protect her, frowning and scolding me: "She's just a little girl; she doesn't know any better. Do you have to be so petty?"
At this moment, looking at the man in front of me who had risen because of my family's influence, I suddenly laughed.
He probably forgot who had given him this overwhelming wealth.
I unscrewed the red-tipped thick paint pen and walked step by step towards the trembling girl.
"Your face is boring, too. Let me do you a favor."
As for my husband?
I'll make him know that without me, he's worse than a dog.

"I want a child, not the child's mother."
These chilling words come from Toop Pasutha, the renowned actor who reluctantly married Anshan Akirah solely to meet his family’s demands rather than out of love.

Anshan does his utmost to fulfill his role as a wife, yet their physical intimacy is confined strictly to the pursuit of an heir.

The hope of earning any affection from Toop slowly fades as his actions reinforce that Anshan is nothing more than a stranger to Toop

Amid this fragile and painful union, can true love ever truly blossom?

Dan Belinni Series — Book Three

Rebecca Windsor was born a mafia princess and raised to obey.

At eighteen, her future is already decided. She has a respectable fiancé, a powerful family, and a marriage arranged for convenience. She should be grateful.

Then she meets the one man she was never supposed to want.

William Belinni is the heir to the Chicago Outfit—a ruthless, unpredictable man preparing to inherit his father's empire. He doesn't want love. He doesn't want marriage. He certainly doesn't want a woman already promised to someone else.

But when he finds Rebecca crying alone in the darkness of his private garden, something changes.

She doesn't know who he is.

He doesn't tell her.

One conversation becomes an obsession. One stolen moment becomes a temptation neither can escape.

Rebecca has spent her entire life believing her destiny belongs to her family.

William has spent his life taking whatever he wants.

And now he wants her.

But in the mafia, broken engagements are more than scandals. They are threats to power, loyalty, and blood.

If William claims the woman promised to another man, he could ignite a war between their families.

And Rebecca may finally have to decide whether she will continue living the life chosen for her...

or risk everything for the man who makes her want to choose for herself.

Four years ago, Giovanni dumped me in front of everyone at an upscale restaurant. Two weeks later, he was engaged to Rosanna. I made a fool of myself begging on his doorstep, became the laughingstock of Ferro City.
Four years later, he runs into me at Casa Valentino, assumes I'm destitute, and offers me a job as a cleaner for him.
What he doesn't know is that the plainly dressed woman standing before him is the wife of Don Alessandro Valentino—the man the entire underworld bows to.

Carlisle said that he would marry me when he became the godfather.
Gritting my teeth through the pain, I dug the bullet out of my arm and bandaged the wound out of habit. By the time I finished the whole process, I was already drenched in cold sweat from the agony.
The last candidate had been secretly taken care of by me ten minutes ago.
I returned to the dessert shop and hid the ring I had spent over a month designing inside a strawberry mousse cake.
Carlisle loves the cakes I make by hand the most. Tonight, I’m going to propose to him—I can’t wait for him to marry me anymore.
"Boss, one strawberry mousse cake, please make it quick."
I looked up at the customer who had just walked in and immediately lowered my head, afraid she might recognize me.
It was my stepsister, Karina.
"We’re closed. No cakes today."
Karina pointed at the cake I had just packed. "Isn’t there one right here? I’ll take this one. I’ll pay double."
I was about to refuse when Karina’s phone rang. "Sweetheart, why aren’t you back yet? Our son is getting impatient."
Karina put the money on the counter, grabbed the cake, and walked away. I didn’t stop her.
Because I saw the person on her video call—it was my fiancé, Carlisle.

The luxury cruise ship in the high seas had become a floating steel coffin for the beautiful CEO and me.
Just a door away, the corridor was teeming with slithering, tentacled Mimics. The wet, crunching sounds of them chewing on raw flesh were enough to make anyone’s scalp go numb.
Inside the pitch-black storage cabin—measuring barely three square meters—the usually aloof and untouchable Ice Queen of the corporate world was so terrified she had her flawless body pressed desperately against my chest.
In this extreme claustrophobia, her scalding body heat generated a fierce friction against me in the face of absolute despair.
"Keep me alive. Everything I have... is yours."

My ex and I used to live inside a romance movie.

She was the heroine’s best friend. I was the hero’s loyal sidekick. When the leads got their happy ending, we—the two “extras”—ended up together like an afterthought.

Then the credits rolled, and real life didn’t. The heroine died in a car crash, the hero fell apart, and my girlfriend chose that moment to leave me.

She said she was done being a supporting role. She wanted the spotlight—she wanted the heroine’s place.

I didn’t beg. I left the city alone and started over from nothing.

Five years later, I returned with my own company group—and ran into her again at a charity gala.

She still looked flawless, moving through the room of power and money, keeping up the image of success. She assumed I was still the same guy trailing behind someone else, and she spoke to me with that familiar, pitying superiority—offering to “help” me back into the circle.

Until the lights dimmed, and the host read my name with respectful clarity, inviting me to the stage.

That was when she realized the gala’s biggest sponsor was me—and the “sidekick” she thought she’d left behind was now someone she could never reach again.

My daughter has been blind since birth. On her eighteenth birthday, she finally received news of a matching cornea donor.
Our whole family was so excited we couldn't sleep that night. My husband and daughter eagerly prepared for the surgery, their hearts filled with hope that she would soon see the light.
But I suddenly slammed my hand on the table and, amidst the family's stunned gazes, proposed a divorce on the spot.
My husband's face turned ashen as he demanded harshly, "You want a divorce just because I'm going through with our daughter's surgery?"
I curled the corner of my mouth and enunciated every word: "That's right. Because you're going through with her surgery—this marriage is over."

I thought I was the woman David couldn’t live without.
For our marriage, I gave up my career to stay in the kitchen, learning to cook all his favorite meals, and I endured every bit of hostility from his family without complaint.
I thought that was what love looked like—quiet devotion, two people growing old together. Until our third wedding anniversary.
During the World Cup final broadcast watched by millions, I saw him in the stadium stands… kissing my younger sister.
By the time I made it home, Lily already had my house key in her hand, standing in my own home like she had every right to be there.
“Don’t you understand?” she whispered with a smile. “You can’t even give him a child. What makes you think you deserve to be his wife?”
David didn’t stop her. He didn’t defend me. He just watched. And let it happen.
What they forgot was simple. That house? It was mine. Not his.

No tears. No scene. Just one thing —
A divorce agreement on the dining table, and she walked out the door.
Under Reason for Divorce, she wrote: Husband's sexual dysfunction.
For the first time, Fu Yuting's cold composure cracked. He tore the papers apart.
She just smiled. "That's fine. I made copies."
Three years she loved him. Three years he hurt her.
The moment she finally let go — he realized the woman who had lived for him would never look back.

I am the Don Dante's wife, but my life runs through my husband's underboss who always seduce my husband, Elena.
I can't wear a coat without Elena's passcode.
My cards are monitored. My cash is approved. Dante calls it protocol. He calls it protection. He never asks why I wear the same faded sweater in winter.
I swallowed every humiliation because my mother's ventilator depended on his signature.
But Elena intentionally delayed funds for my mother’s medical treatment.
The brutal clash made me miscarry.
My mother died alone without timely treatment. I stopped filing all daily spending applications for three days straight.
Today he calls, calm and condescending, telling me the medical accounts are restored.
He thinks I'll fall back into line.
He doesn't know the only thing I'm requesting now is a signature—his, on the divorce papers.

For Joey, I shouldered the blame for a commercial crime and survived five years behind bars—alone, even through a miscarriage.

With only five days left on my sentence, his secretary flaunted a “bonus” transfer from him—521,314—and when I left one mild comment, she blocked me.

I got released early on Christmas, wanting to surprise my husband. Instead, I pushed open our bedroom door and found Joey and Betty in our marital bed, deep in their sick little games.

And then I overheard a phone call that shattered everything: my little sister, Sansa, hadn’t died from a surgical “accident” at all. Joey had bribed the surgeon and had her heart cut out—so his mistress could gain a werewolf’s healing ability and keep having some perverted sex on bed.

He lied to me, used me, murdered my sister—and still mocked me for I was nothing without him.

After years of desperate IVF attempts, I overheard my husband boast that the baby was his and his ex's.
The child in my womb wasn't mine!
But when I pressed a gun to the complicit doctor's head, he trembled and spilled an even bigger bombshell—the mix-up wasn't my egg, it was the sperm... and the donor was Damien Costello, the most powerful Mafia Don in the city.
I was carrying Costello's baby!

Angela Leventis is one of the most notorious assassins in the criminal underworld, earning her the nickname "Angel of Death." She's infamous for her ability to carry out hits without leaving a trace behind.

One night, she hits up a club in Las Vegas with her sister and unexpectedly crosses paths with mafia heir Nikolai Vasillios. To her shock, she wakes up the next morning in his hotel room, with a ring on her finger.

Nikolai Vasillios is the most feared mafia boss out there, known for treating women like disposable items. What chaos will ensue when he discovers he’s married to the woman he partied with the night before? And what about the fact that his father has already picked out a bride for him?

Can Angela escape this drunken marriage and keep her true identity under wraps? Will Nikolai stand up to his father and reject the bride chosen for him, or will the assassin and the mafia don find themselves falling for each other?

He didn't bid for her, yet snatched her away from the highest bidder. Not only that, he killed them all.
And Just like that, Rena's savior showed her a glimpse of his dark world. She should have taken to her heels, run away from him as fast as she could, but no, she had nowhere to go.
On one side of her world, was her boyfriend, Roland, and his girlfriend, Soni, who put her up for sale in the first place, like a commodity.
They killed her mother and ruined her life, and Rena was sure they would be waiting to catch her again.
And, on the other side of her world, the highest bidder's gang might go looking for her to settle scores.
Her surest bet was to go with her savior, whom she didn't even know his name.
He has two conditions for saving her: win his daughter over and become his wife, or be returned to the wolves who wanted to tear her apart. To Rena, It was an easy task. She was good with kids…
Except that her savior’s daughter wasn't a kid, she was Soni, her mortal enemy!
Rena vowed for vengeance, but how would she seek vengeance when her savior loves his daughter a little too much?
"Three days, Mr. Kaan, give me three days and I'll make you fall in love with me. Then, you'll have a reason to keep me," Rena promised. However, he looked down at her, shaking his head, he replied. "I don't fall in love...
Make me obsessed with you, little kitten.
The more obsessed I am, the harder it will be to let you go."
He paused, lifting her jaw with a finger, "If you do, I might let you seek your revenge on Soni and Roland."

Luna Martinez, an ordinary young woman from a quiet town, has her life turned upside down after watching a TV report about the feared Vincenzo and his connection to the Italian mafia. Fate thrusts her into a harrowing cat-and-mouse game when her brother Davis mysteriously disappears, becoming Vincenzo's target.

Trapped in a dangerous web of secrets and conspiracies, Luna finds herself imprisoned by Vincenzo, a ruthless man determined to capture Davis. Luna, brave and astute, devises a daring plan: to enter Vincenzo's mind and manipulate him, making him fall in love with her.

However, Luna didn't anticipate that, by getting involved in this perilous game, she would be drawn into a tale of passion, betrayal, and dark secrets. As Vincenzo's heart entangles, Luna is faced with a moral dilemma, aware that her plan may have unimaginable consequences.

"Time's up, sir. That's enough."
I've said it so many times I've gone numb to it. In this brothel, I'm nothing but a body with a price tag.
Then an old man froze in the doorway, his eyes reddening. "My God... Miss Isabella, what happened to you?"
Isabella. Somewhere in my shattered memory, that name still carries a weight I can't explain.
"I'm Antonio," he wept. "Alessandro sent me to find you."
A name both familiar and foreign. Salvation—or just the door to a darker room?

I took a bullet for my husband five years ago. He married me in the ICU before the anesthesia wore off.
Raffaele Santoro—heir to the most powerful mafia family in Italy—told me I was his everything. He bought a castle and named it after me. He reserved a grave beside his parents so we'd lie together for eternity.
While I was pumping my body full of hormones for our fourth round of IVF, he was across town watching his childhood sweetheart give birth to twin boys.
He named one of them Dante—the name I'd chosen for our future son.
The night I found out, I was seven weeks pregnant with his child.
I didn't tell him.
I called my best friend and said: I need everyone to think I'm dead.

Living in a house with hockey players was supposed to be a temporary fix. Falling for my brother’s best friend? That’s a permanent disaster.
My brother’s golden rule: Stay away from the team. Especially Jaxson Miller, the hotheaded rookie with a slap-shot that breaks glass and a reputation for breaking hearts.
But when my dorm floods and my brother offers me his spare room in the "Hockey House," I’m suddenly living feet away from the one guy I’m not allowed to touch. Jaxson is everything I should avoid—reckless, loud, and constantly in the penalty box. He’s the team’s biggest liability, and I’m his biggest secret. If we get caught, the team falls apart. If we don’t, my heart might be the one taking the hit.

Haunted by a past she can’t outrun, Kaia is forced into an impossible bargain: deceive a ruthless mafia don and bring about his downfall within sixty days or lose the one thing she loves most, her son.
What begins as a deadly con turns into a dangerous game of desire, as Kaia finds herself drawn to the very man she’s meant to destroy. With every lie, every touch of heart, the lines blur.
Ninety days. One heart. A choice between survival and surrender.
Will Kaia finish the job she was sent to do… or will love rewrite the rules of the game?

An S-Rank [Thunder Tyrant]?

I watched coldly as the "good brother" who had betrayed me in my past life strutted around, stealing my woman and humiliating my F-Rank skill.

What he didn't know was that every time he channeled his lightning, his talent was draining his lifespan. In our past life, I was the one who used my skill, [Status Reset], to restore his life force time and time again.

Reborn for another lifetime, I decided I was done playing the saint.

When the crimson behemoth shattered the dome, Brad laughed maniacally, summoning a storm of lightning. But in an instant, the fierce backlash turned his arms into brittle charcoal, shattering in pieces across the ground. I stepped over his rolling, mutilated body and picked up a piece of rusty scrap metal.

"Reset."

The dead rust was eradicated. The scrap metal instantly reverted to a fully charged, high-frequency combat blade.

Gripping the blade in one hand, I faced the overwhelming tide of corpses and carved out a path of blood.

I came home early from a business trip and overheard the woman Joseph always called his “poor stepmother” clinging to him in his office, begging for a kiss. Her swollen belly carried his child.
“When do I get to stop pretending to be your stepmother?” Susan whined.
Joseph’s cold laugh stripped away the last of my dignity. “Soon. Once I drain Emma’s company dry, she’ll be useless.”
I used to think Joseph was my salvation.
After his father died and his pregnant stepmother had nowhere to go, I ignored my family’s objections and brought them both into my home. I poured every resource I had into helping him rise.
I even became pregnant with his child.
Only then did I realize I had never really been his wife.
I was only the stepping stone they used to climb into wealth.
That night, Susan staged a miscarriage.
And Joseph, his face twisted with rage, locked me—pregnant and bleeding—inside a freezing basement.
“A vicious woman like you doesn’t deserve a child.”

Seven years ago, betrayed by my closest friend and my fiancée, I was thrown into the lightless Black Sea Death Prison and tortured mercilessly.

Seven years later, I returned through a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, only to find my crippled little sister being trampled in the mud by my former "brother," forcing her to sign a humiliating organ extraction contract.

"A worthless ghost who just crawled out of death row—what makes you think you can fight a billionaire tycoon like me?"

At a grand banquet at the Peninsula Hotel, the treacherous couple threw a bloody dog bone at my feet. They mobilized hundreds of heavily armed SWAT officers to surround me, demanding I kneel, kowtow, and call them master.

They thought their wealth and power made them untouchable on the West Coast, assuming I was still the same spineless weakling from years ago.

That was until an EMP tore through the night sky. Three military stealth fighter jets hovered outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, and hundreds of laser sights from the nation's most classified special forces locked dead center on the foreheads of every elite in the room.

Under the horrified gazes of the city's high society, a four-star general crashed through the window and gave me the highest military salute:

"Tier Zero Task Force assembled! Supreme Commander, please give the order to purge!"

At that moment, the high-and-mighty tycoons finally remembered the terror of being dominated by the abyss.

I came home early from a business trip and overheard the woman Joseph always called his “poor stepmother” clinging to him in his office, begging for a kiss. Her swollen belly carried his child.
“When do I get to stop pretending to be your stepmother?” Susan whined.
Joseph’s cold laugh stripped away the last of my dignity. “Soon. Once I drain Emma’s company dry, she’ll be useless.”
I used to think Joseph was my salvation.
After his father died and his pregnant stepmother had nowhere to go, I ignored my family’s objections and brought them both into my home. I poured every resource I had into helping him rise.
I even became pregnant with his child.
Only then did I realize I had never really been his wife.
I was only the stepping stone they used to climb into wealth.
That night, Susan staged a miscarriage.
And Joseph, his face twisted with rage, locked me—pregnant and bleeding—inside a freezing basement.
“A vicious woman like you doesn’t deserve a child.”

I used to be Henry’s adopted daughter. He taught me manners, and kept repeating one rule: “Stay away from humans.”
But I still betrayed him for a human named Avery.
I thought it was love… until the day I started hemorrhaging before giving birth.
Avery dumped me at Henry’s feet in front of everyone, sneering as he asked:
“Didn’t you say humans are low creatures? Well, your unbonded daughter got knocked up by me, filthier than a whore. Are you still going to save her?”
In that moment, Henry didn’t shove me away.
He lowered his head, pressed a kiss to the back of my neck, sank his teeth into my skin and branded me with a mate mark.
That’s when I finally understood I wasn’t his daughter.
I was his fated mate.
And still, we were expelled from the Pack.
Ten years later, Avery had become Eric Jones, a powerful man everyone scrambled to flatter and I was Rory, the underground casino’s whore up for auction.
This time, I was going to make Avery pay.

“You look like her,” my father whispered, forcing me into my twin sister’s wedding dress, but he didn't warn me that I was marrying a monster.

My twin sister ran away, leaving me to marry Luciano Moretti, a ruthless Mafia Don. I walked down the aisle, trembling, praying he wouldn't notice the switch. But the moment he kissed me at the altar, his tongue invaded my mouth, demanding and possessive, tasting me like I was his property.

I thought I could hide the truth. But on our wedding night, he walked out of the bathroom wearing only a towel, water dripping down his sculpted abs and the distinct V-line that pointed to his heavy manhood.

He cornered me against the bed. “You smell different, wifey,” he whispered, his hand sliding up my thigh, his thumb brushing dangerously close to my wet heat.

I tried to push him away, but the next morning, he decided to test me. He pushed a plate of peanut butter bagels toward me—food that would kill me, but was my sister's favorite.

“Eat,” he commanded, his eyes dropping to my chest where my nipples were hard against the silk robe. “Or do you want me to feed you something else?”

His gaze darkened, shifting to my lips, and I knew he wasn't talking about food. He knows I'm a fake. And he’s going to enjoy every second of punishing me for it.

I didn’t ask to carry a mobster’s baby.
But he never gave me a choice.

The man who gave me my son stole my innocence in return.
And now, his Bratva brother is coming to finish what he started.

Viktor Kornilov is a cold-blooded beast.
His name alone makes my blood run cold.
But his cruel touch makes my heart beat faster and faster.
We’re trapped in a high-stakes game of lies and violence.
One wrong move, and he’ll take my son away.

So when he gives me his sinful offer
—become his fake wife or become his latest victim—
The only answer I can give is yes.