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Bonded to the Twin Alphas
16.0K·Author JessicaBorn rare and powerful, Ruby was fated to the twin Alphas who scorned and rejected her. Shattered but unbroken, she left behind her home, her wolf, and the pain that nearly destroyed her. Years later, summoned by tragedy and war, Ruby returns stronger, fiercer, and determined never to bow again. The twins, now haunted by the mate bond they once despised, are desperate to claim what they so easily cast aside. But Ruby’s heart belongs to another and her loyalty to herself burns brighter than any prophecy. In a world of betrayal, magic, and destiny, which would Ruby choose: fate or freedom.
Bound by Blood, Broken by Silence
6.0K·-I spent five years as Dominic Russo's most trusted enforcer, and five more warming his bed in a penthouse no one knew I had the key to. On our anniversary, his ex sent me a photo — her nails raking down the same back I'd kissed that morning. Captioned: "Some things never change ?" That's when I understood. Every filthy thing he did to me in the dark, she taught him first. So I photographed the contract I'd been hiding for three months — the one that signed over the entire West Coast pipeline to me — and sent it back. "Enjoy him. I just took half his empire." Then I packed one bag and drove to the airport. Seattle was already mine on paper. Now I'd make it mine in blood.
No Roses Left to Burn
25.0K·-Seven years of marriage, and I had never once sat at a Marchetti family table. Not on Christmas Eve. Not on Thanksgiving. Not on New Year's. Every holiday, Luca left before sundown and came home the next morning with cigar smoke in his collar and wine on his breath — traces of a world I was never allowed to enter. He always said it was tradition. Old blood. Sicilian rules passed down through generations: no outsiders at the family table. No exceptions. Not even for a wife who took the Marchetti name. I believed him. Every single time. Until the night before New Year's Eve, when he asked me to check the tire pressure on his Maserati, and I found three photographs wedged behind the owner's manual in the glovebox. All three were taken in the Marchetti private dining hall — I recognized it from a picture his mother had shown me once. Vaulted stone ceilings, a mahogany table long enough to seat forty, and the family crest carved into the mantle above the fireplace. In every photo, the same woman stood beside my husband. Her arm through his. Her hip pressed to his side. His hand on the small of her back with the kind of ease that doesn't come from politeness. It comes from habit. I sat in the driver's seat until the steering wheel turned cold beneath my fingers. There was no tradition. There was no rule. The place beside Luca had simply been taken — by someone who wasn't me. And he'd lied about it for seven years.
The Mafia's Wife: Four Years Hidden, One Day's Escape
6.0K·-I tricked my mafia husband into signing our divorce papers—right in front of his mistress. For eight years, I was the Maynard family's ghost. Decoding enemy intel. Forging untraceable documents. Keeping their heir alive from the shadows. Then one bloody night turned me into Orion Maynard's wife. He called it a "strategic alliance." I was naive enough to call it destiny. Destiny, it turns out, has a cruel sense of humor. For four years, I warmed his bed, bled for his empire, and waited for a man who once pinned me against walls whispering, "You're mine, tesoro." Then Sabrina Rossi waltzed back from Paris—and I stopped existing. The night he held me close, drunk and desperate, he moaned her name against my lips. I finally understood: I was never his wife. Just a placeholder. So I did what shadows do best. I vanished on my own terms. First, I let sunflowers swallow the crescent moon on my collarbone—a foolish tribute to his promise that I was his eternal light. Then I tucked divorce papers between routine forms and handed him a pen. He scrawled his name without a second glance. Orion Maynard can keep his throne and his precious Sabrina. But when the most dangerous man in New York realizes his ghost is gone for good, he'll learn something new:Some women don't come back.
The Alpha's Abandoned Wife Vanished with Her Daughter
448·-On the seventy-third night my Alpha mate went to her bed, she got pregnant. Seven years ago, on the night of the lunar eclipse, I dragged him out of a pool of blood. He said: "I owe you my life." Seven years later,his mother announced before the entire pack—my six-year-old daughter, Willow, no longer deserved to call him “Daddy.” On my daughter’s birthday, he tricked us into coming to his engagement ceremony. She let go of my hand, ran forward, and called out “Daddy.” He shoved her to the ground in front of everyone. I watched her stand up by herself, brush the dust off her dress, and give an awkward little curtsey:“I’m sorry, Alpha Thorne. I was out of line.” In that moment, my daughter's heart died. Mine had died long ago. walked out that door with a smile, holding my daughter in my arms, and glanced at the plane tickets I had booked seven days earlier. But this time, Willow and I would never look back.
After My Heart Died, The Don Begged Crying at My Feet
14·-On the night of my husband's thirty-fifth birthday, I spent six hours preparing a candlelit dinner—only to find him on his mistress's Instagram story. The most feared Mafia Don on the West Coast was dancing cheek-to-cheek with her. She'd rented out an entire jazz club, captioned: "Celebrating the boss's big day ?" I liked the post and commented: "Great party. Would be perfect if someone remembered his wife's been waiting all night." Three seconds later, the story vanished. He called, shouting: "It was a joke, Elena! Stop being so damn sensitive!" Her silvery laugh echoed in the background. The old me would have broken down. Would have cried. Would have forgiven. But not this time. When betrayal becomes this blatant, a dead heart is actually a kind of liberation. Don Moretti could own the entire city—but he had already lost his wife. Forever.
99 Stars Folded, I Fled the Mafia Don
1.0K·-On Valentine's Day, my boyfriend's childhood sweetheart posted on Instagram: any single guy with a breakup screenshot gets a night with me. Then Dante Moretti dumped me — by text. She screenshotted it within seconds, stamped with a winking emoji: Sorry ladies — my boy Dante beat you all to it. The comments poured in. Aren't you scared Nora's gonna leave? He replied: She loves me too much to walk away. She wouldn't dare. I didn't scream. I didn't call. I reached for a strip of paper, folded it into a small, careful star, and dropped it into the glass jar on my nightstand. We made a deal once — back when things were still tender. Every time he chose her over me, I'd fold a star. When the jar hit ninety-nine, I'd walk. That was number ninety-five. Four more.
Dead Heart, Free Wolf
81·-On the night of my Alpha mate's thirty-fifth birthday, I spent six hours preparing a candlelit dinner—only to find him on his mistress's Instagram story. The most powerful Alpha on the West Coast was dancing cheek-to-cheek with her. She'd rented out an entire jazz club, captioned: "Celebrating the Alpha's big day ?" I liked the post and commented: "Great party. Would be perfect if someone remembered his Luna's been waiting all night." Three seconds later, the story vanished. He called, growling: "It was a joke, Sera! Stop being so damn sensitive!" Her silvery laugh echoed in the background. The old me would have whimpered. Would have bared my throat. Would have forgiven. But not this time. When betrayal becomes this blatant, a dead heart is actually a kind of liberation. Alpha Kael Blackwood could rule every territory on the West Coast—but he had already lost his mate. Forever.
On My Wedding Day, I Married the Don’s Deadliest Enemy
117·-I was Elara Ricci. The don's daughter. The woman Nico Ferrante flew across an ocean ninety-nine times just to watch from the street below her window—and I called it love. He spent five years building a replacement while I was gone. And when I came home to nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine roses with my name on every card, I walked straight into the most carefully arranged humiliation of my life. He let them hit me at my own welcome-home dinner. He stood in the room while his soldiers put me on the floor. And when three men had me blindfolded in a warehouse and called him for ransom—he told them they had the wrong woman. So I made one call. To the man who'd been waiting. And then I got married. Nico knelt on my father's floor and took ninety-nine strokes just to ask where I'd gone. The answer was: somewhere he couldn't follow. Some men only understand what they had after they've destroyed it themselves.
My Vampire Lord Made Me Barren for His Mistress
1.0K·-My vampire lord said he didn't want children. For six years, he handed me "our private vintage" every night, saying tenderly, "You're all I need." Until our anniversary, when I followed the blood bond to find him—through the flower shop window, a six-year-old boy with raven-black hair rode on his shoulders calling him "Daddy." He texted me: "Still tied up at the council, love." And I stood there watching him kiss another woman. I pried open his study drawer. The medical report read: "Sanctified water compound—permanent fertility suppression." Every glass of wine was poison. My barrenness was his design. The family photos on the wall even included my parents' smiling faces. Ten days until the Blood Moon Conclave. Before every Elder and every vampire of consequence, I'll show him what a thoroughly betrayed Lady can destroy.
The Alpha's Forgotten Mate
978·-For three years, I was Kieran Blackwood's dirty little secret. I kept waiting for his mark. What I got instead was a push notification—my mate announcing his bonding ceremony with his childhood sweetheart. When I confronted him, he said she was nothing but a contract. Said she meant nothing to him. Said I was the one he loved. But love without a mark is just a lie wrapped in silk sheets. They called me crazy. Obsessed. The ex who couldn't let go. The truth is, the second I saw that photo, it was already over. I just needed the whole world to see who the real liar was—and then I walked away.
The Don’s Favorite Lover Vanished
1·-I’m the best art forger and intel specialist in Chicago. And I fell for the man who owned it all, Don Vincenzo Russo. For ten years, I was his secret, his weapon, and his woman. I built his empire from the shadows. I thought I’d get a ring. After all, every night he was in this city, he was buried inside me, taking his pleasure. He’d whisper that I was his, that no one else felt this good. But this time, after he was finished with me, he announced he was marrying the Russian Bratva princess, Katerina Petrov. That’s when I knew. I wasn’t his woman. I was just a body. For an alliance, for her, he sacrificed me. He left me to die. So I destroyed every piece of the life he gave me. I made one call to my father in Italy. And then, I vanished. But when the Don who owned Chicago couldn't find his favorite toy… he went insane.
I Sent the Don’s Baby Back to Him
334·-The night before the wedding, the most feared Mafia don in Chicago told me he'd fallen in love with someone else. I made him choose. He chose me—or so I thought. But for an entire year, he called out her name in his sleep. He crashed her wedding and carried her away in front of everyone. And when I was lying in the hospital losing his child, I made thirty-seven calls. He picked up once—and on the other end, I heard her breathy little moans. Then I discovered our marriage certificate was forged. His promised "anniversary trip" was nothing but a ruse—designed to get me out of the way while he married her at the courthouse. So I made my own choice. I preserved the embryo and arranged a special delivery. The moment he and his new bride walked out of the registrar's office, my gift would arrive right on time. By the time he opened it, I'd be at thirty thousand feet. It took him three months to find me. He knelt in the Paris rain, begging me to come back. But some love, once you let go, can never be caught again.
When the Mafia Boss Begged, I Was Already Gone
0·-They say you don't leave the Moretti family. You either marry in or you die trying to get out. I used to think I was the exception—the woman who tamed the beast, the one who would wear his ring and bear his name. Eight years I gave him. Eight years of silence when he came home smelling of another woman's perfume. Eight years of pretending I didn't see the way he looked at her. Eight years of swallowing my pride, my tears, my voice. But even the most devoted dog eventually stops coming when called. The night I finally walked away, Dante Moretti was slow dancing with his secretary at his own engagement party—our engagement party—while I collapsed in the corner, gasping for air that wouldn't come. He didn't even look up. And that's when I knew: I wasn't leaving the love of my life. I was escaping a man who never loved me at all.
The Don Faked His Death for His Mistress. I Disappeared for Myself
4.0K·-Dante Moretti died on the way to marry me. At least, that's what they told me. His convoy hit a car bomb crossing the Brooklyn Bridge. By the time the fire trucks arrived, the vehicle was ash. The body inside was unrecognizable. They cremated him before I could see his face. Buried an urn I never opened. I was six weeks pregnant. I became a widow before I ever became a wife. For months, I believed every word of it. The grief. The loss. The careful kindness of the Moretti family closing around me like a fist. Then I heard his voice through a closed door — alive, unhurt, unhurried — explaining to his mother why leaving me at the altar had been the right call. He'd faked his death to spend six months with his mistress. He thought I would wait. Grieve. Stay quiet. Keep his child and his secret until he was ready to come home. He forgot what kind of woman he'd spent six years building. I made one call to my brother. I walked out the front door. And I gave Dante Moretti exactly what he'd given me: A body they'd never find.
The Wife Strikes Back
0·Andrea"I'm pregnant." My husband Kaiden Fenwick's stepsister Quinn appeared at my doorstep, holding her pregnant belly. Kaiden took her in and demanded I give up the nursery. "She needs care, Isabella. Learn to be tolerant." I was forced to accept Quinn barging into my life. But her behavior gradually crossed boundaries. She would dry Kaiden's hair after he showered, would knock on our bedroom door in the middle of the night, lying that she had 'nightmares.' Kaiden enjoyed Quinn's complete dependence on him, making me the extra person. I couldn't tolerate it anymore. "Let’s get a divorce! And both of you, please get out of my house!"
Alpha of Her Own
0·AndreaI was the Luna every she-wolf envied—until the Alpha I trusted shattered my world with another woman’s scent on his skin. Betrayal burned me alive, but beneath the ashes, my wolf stirred, hungry for freedom—and vengeance. Now I must choose: crawl back to the mate who destroyed me, or rise as the Alpha no one saw coming.
The Alpha’s Betrayal Was the End of Us
99·-The night before our bonding ceremony, the most feared Alpha in the Great Lakes region told me he'd fallen in love with a woman who wasn't his fated mate. I forced him to choose. He chose me—or at least, that's what I believed. But for an entire year, he whispered her name in his sleep. He crashed her wedding and carried her out in front of everyone. And when I lay in that hospital losing his child, I called him fifty times. He picked up once. On the other end, I heard her breathy little moans. Later, I discovered our bonding ceremony had been forged. The mate bond had never taken hold. The "aurora trip" he'd promised was a ruse—designed to ship me off while he completed the real soul-bond with her. So I made my own choice. I kept the embryo. I scheduled a very special delivery. The moment he and his new mate walked out of the ceremonial grounds, my gift would arrive right on time. By the time he opened it, I'd be thirty thousand feet in the air. It took him three months to find me. He knelt in the rain in Florence, begging me to come back. But some bonds, once severed, can never be reforged.
The Alpha's Unacknowledged Mate
7.0K·-I spent five years as Cain Blackwell's most loyal enforcer—his Beta, his shadow, the she-wolf who kept his borders clean while he slept easy. And five years warming his bed in the den no one knew I had a key to. On the night of the Blood Moon Gala, his ex sent me a photo. Her nails tracing his back. His back. The same back I'd kissed that morning. Captioned: Some things never change. ? That's when I understood. Every tender thing he'd ever done to me in the dark—she'd taught him first. So I photographed the territorial charter I'd been sitting on for three months—the one that transferred the entire Western Range to me—and sent it back. Enjoy him. I just took half his hunting grounds. Then I packed one bag and drove north. Ironhollow was already mine on paper. Now I'd make it mine in blood.
When He Wore My Nightclothes to Cheat
1·AndreaAfter seven years of marriage, Bella thought she was Mrs. Ramirez, only to discover she was merely a temporary placeholder in a secretary's love story. While David Ramirez whisked away his mistress Jenny Martin to Hawaii, Bella faced humiliation at the office—abandoned and treated as nothing more than a convenient tool. A multi-million-dollar project stolen by the mistress. Credit for her work reassigned. Bank accounts drained. Even Bella's art studio transformed into someone else's "study." When her husband appeared on her sofa kissing his mistress while wearing Bella's nightgown, she coldly presented divorce papers with one devastating line: "The house? I've already sold it."
