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99 Stars Folded, I Fled the Mafia Don
589·-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.
Taken by the lycan beast
4.0K·KurahtHe was bred for war. Caged like a beast. Until she walked in. Aria is no one, just a servant girl hiding in plain sight, disguised as a boy to survive the ruthless world of wolves who see human women as nothing but prey. But when she discovers the kingdom’s most dangerous secret, a feral lycan locked in chains, his power feared even by kings, everything changes. He sees through her disguise. Smells her fear. And craves her. When Aria risks everything to help him escape, he doesn’t thank her. He takes her. Claimed her as his mate with a single, searing bite and mated with her, unleashing a storm of power that could bring the entire kingdom to its knees. Now they're on the run, hunted by an alpha who will burn the world to get his weapon back. But the real war is just beginning and this time, the beast isn’t the one in chains.
Bonded to the Twin Alphas
15.0K·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.
The Don Faked His Death for His Mistress. I Disappeared for Myself
2.0K·-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 Alpha's Unacknowledged Mate
824·-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.
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.
No Roses Left to Burn
20.0K·-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.
On My Wedding Day, I Married the Don’s Deadliest Enemy
68·-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.
The Mafia's Wife: Four Years Hidden, One Day's Escape
2.0K·-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.
Bound by Blood, Broken by Silence
5.0K·-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.
Saved By The Bikers
1.0K·PR BradyKnights MC is made up of 18 guys from special forces. They're all retired and created a motorcycle club due to their love of riding motorcycles. They do search and rescue missions across the USA. They help rescue women and children from trafficking and drugs. They have both government and private contracts. Follow these 18 short stories as each one finds their true love. Some women may be broken and scarred from harsh realities of life, but her special guy will pick her up, protect her, and help mend her scars. Not everyone is happy about the club's rescues. Some may try to seek revenge on them. Jealous abusive ex's sometimes don't give up. However, the club will see to every woman's and club members safety and protection no matter what it takes!
The Alpha Faked His Death for His Lover. I Disappeared for Myself
24·-Cain Ashford died on the road to our bonding ceremony. That's what they told me, anyway. His convoy was ambushed somewhere along the forest ridge between pack territories—a rival clan's trap, silver-laced and deliberate. By the time the betas reached the site, the vehicles were gutted hulls. The body they recovered was burned beyond recognition. They held the burial rites before I could see his face. I stood in the sacred grove and pressed my palm against cold stone that meant nothing to me. I was six weeks pregnant with his heir. I became a widow before I ever became a mate. For months, I believed every word of it. I grieved. I mourned the bond half-formed in my chest, that aching hollow where our tether should have been. The Ashford pack folded around me like a fist—gentle-seeming, suffocating. Then I heard his voice through a closed door. Alive. Unhurt. Unhurried. Explaining to his mother, in that measured alpha's tone I would know in any life, why leaving me at the ceremony had been the right call. He had faked his death to spend six months with his mistress. He thought I would wait. Grieve. Stay quiet. Carry his child and his secret until he was ready to come home and take back everything he'd walked away from. 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 Cain Ashford exactly what he'd given me: A body they'd never find.
After I Left, the Don Broke
89·-For seven years, I was Caelian Porto's secret. His girl — no ring, no public appearances, no seat at the family table. I got out of his car two blocks early every morning so no one would know. Meanwhile, Sienna Raines, the alliance princess he swore meant nothing, occupied every space I was denied. On our sixth anniversary, I was attacked in a parking garage. He didn't answer the phone. Sienna did — from his bedroom. I said I was done. He hung up in four seconds. So I came back. I stopped crying, stopped asking, stopped caring. I became exactly the woman he wanted. And while the Don thought I'd finally learned my place, I booked a one-way flight to Geneva. By the time he realized I was gone, the woman he knew no longer existed.
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.
The Alpha's Abandoned Wife Vanished with Her Daughter
60·-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.
I Exposed My Alpha's Fake Bond at the Altar
0·-Two months before our mating ceremony, Damon claimed our bond had gone dark. He couldn't sense me anymore, he said. Couldn't feel my wolf reaching for his. Some rare defect—one in ten thousand shifters. He begged me to wear his scent at all times, to never leave pack territory without him. The only way he could keep me safe. Safe. In our world, that word is nothing but a leash wrapped in silk. My mother learned that lesson. Father swore to protect her too. She ended up at the bottom of a cliff—a "rogue attack" that happened while his mistress watched from the shadows and he conveniently looked the other way. I was sixteen when I learned what promises cost in this life. So when Damon started flinching at my touch, slipping away during full moons, hesitating before every kiss—I didn't cry. I didn't confront him. I tracked him to Prague. Watched him pull another woman into his arms on the open street, their wolves brushing against each other in a way ours never had. Three days later, I intercepted a coded message. The bond blindness was a lie. The woman was Crimson Vale. And I was never his true mate—just a bargaining chip in a war I didn't know I was fighting. Grief didn't break me. It turned into something cold and sharp. A blade waiting for the right moment. Then I made a call. In our world, there's another way to teach a man the price of broken promises.
Blood Covenant: The Vampire's Forsaken Beloved
46·-For three years, I was Damien Ravencroft's dirty little secret. I kept waiting for his blood-bond. What I got instead was a push notification — my lover announcing his binding ceremony with his childhood sweetheart. When I confronted him, he called her nothing but a contract. Said she meant nothing. Said I was the one he loved. But love without a blood-mark is just a lie wrapped in shadow silk. They called me delusional. Obsessed. The ex who couldn't let go. The truth is, the second I saw that photograph — To my eternity, Vivienne — it was already over. I just needed the whole world to see who the real liar was. And then I walked away from the most powerful High Lord on the Eastern Seaboard. He thinks I'll come back. He thinks I'll always come back. He's wrong.
The Alpha Threw Away His Most Powerful Luna
2·-Three years after I accepted the mate bond with Kael Blackwell — Alpha of the most feared pack on the Eastern Seaboard — I watched him fasten a blood-red ruby necklace around another woman's throat in the VIP suite of the Gilded Den. The same necklace he'd flown to Paris to bid on, four days before our bonding anniversary. He didn't know I was standing twelve feet away, half-hidden behind a velvet curtain, with a camera in my hand and severance papers already drafted in my lawyer's inbox. He didn't know the woman smiling beneath those rubies had once sold lap dances for two hundred dollars a pop at a club on the south side — or that every shy glance, every reluctant whisper, every I'm not that kind of girl she'd ever fed him was rehearsed to perfection. He didn't know that this time, I wouldn't scream. I wouldn't throw a glass. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of watching me bleed. I would simply leave. And I would take everything with me on the way out.
The Billionaire's Wife Strikes Back
12·-I was the wife of Alexander Hartwell—CEO of Hartwell Industries, heir to a three-billion-dollar empire. For seven years, I stood by him through hostile takeovers, corporate betrayals, and boardroom wars. I thought I was his partner. His equal. Because every night, he held me close and whispered that he didn't want children—not yet. He wanted us to enjoy each other first. I believed him. On our anniversary, I found them through the window of a private clinic downtown. A little boy with Alexander's dark curls perched on his shoulders, calling him "Daddy." The walls were covered in family photos. I wasn't in a single one. That night, I opened his safe. The combination was our wedding date—and the boy's birthday. Inside was a prescription with my name on it: Long-term use suppresses ovulation. Undetectable in routine bloodwork. Seven years. Every glass of warm milk he brought me at night was poison—designed to make sure I'd never become a mother. He had a son with another woman while systematically destroying my ability to have children of my own. That's when I understood. I wasn't his wife. I was his trophy—a convenient accessory he could manipulate at will. So I waited. For his most glittering charity gala. To watch him lose his empire in front of everyone who ever believed in him.
After His 100th Betrayal, I Severed Our Eternal Bond
2·-I kept a ledger for my blood-bonded husband. Starting score: one hundred. One point deducted for every betrayal. When it hit zero, I'd be free. The ninety-ninth time — a blizzard, twenty below, and he made me get out of the car. Pregnant. "Celeste is in trouble." That night, I miscarried while feral revenants tore into me. The hundredth time — the physician begged him on her knees to give blood to save our child. He said, "Celeste comes first." For a shallow cut on her knee, our baby died. I set down my pen. Entry number one hundred. Final score: zero. I closed the ledger, and the blood bond shattered — thread by crimson thread. Betrayal is never forgiven. Never forgotten. And he would soon learn that abandoning the Daughter of the Eternal Night was the same as lighting the fuse to his own destruction.
