Empressknight1

At twelve years old, Zevran Ilvane was already a monster in the making. He was cold, Ruthless, and a psychopath. But that all changes when his father kidnaps Vesper Grey Lysan and brings her home. Zevran takes one look at her, and she becomes the object of his obsessive devotion. Broken but desperate to survive, Vesper is ready to do whatever it takes to escape her hell, so she manipulates Zevran's obsession to her advantage. She gains his trust and promises to take him with her if he helps her escape. But she does not keep to her word. Instead, she kills his father with the weapon he gave her and runs, leaving Zevran bleeding and betrayed. But the boy she betrayed didn't die-he became something far worse. Ten years later, Zevran Ilvane is no longer a boy. He's a cold, calculating Mafia king, and he's been waiting. Watching. Planning. Vesper owes him a promise. And he intends to collect–with her body, her soul, and every breath she takes. She used his love to escape him once. Now he'll use it to break her.

Vega Romeo is the live life, screw the rest type of girl. she is pretty content to just go with the flow until she is dared by her best friend to join in on a bet to make billionaire Zach Dante hers. Vega sees Zach Dante as a playboy with no feelings and so she agrees to play him. Vega would do anything to win, even if it meant hurting the one she's come to love. Competing against the other girls is not a walk in the park but Vega had already invested a lot to stop. Except lying came with consequences. And those consequences are more than she expected. But what happens in the past stays in the past right? That might be what Vega thinks, but it is not the same for Zach who bore most of the burn of the scandal. With bitterness In his heart, Zach bids his time in plotting his revenge and after five years, he's back. He's back and he wants nothing more than to destroy the woman who shattered his heart.

I'll drink until she breaths her last. Seth Orisis, descent from Ancient Egypt was betrayed by the only woman he loved. He is fearless, cold, manipulative, and emotionless. His only purpose is to live In the shadow, quench his thirst and get his vengeance on those who wronged him. Until he meets Dawn Atkins. Dawn has been through hell and after years of putting up with people trying to take advantage of her, She becomes a fiery-spirited and no-bullshit kind of girl. She is the definition of what Seth hates and despises. Especially her eyes, they were just the same as the woman's who thrust a dagger through his chest. She turned out to be immune to his powers, she also baffles him and like the predator he was, he needed to unravel his prey especially since her blood was a special bred that was wanted by all vampires. With the threat of his rival clan looming and a new interest blooming in his dead heart, would he fight for love or would he stay cold-hearted and quench his thirst with her blood while ripping the world to shred?

Lured by the double salary, she decided to become the director's assistant for six months. On her first day as an assistant, Sophia lectured an arrogant man in front of everyone. But when she realizes the man is her billionaire boss Lennox Ray, she faces the risk of being fired. "I don't need an assistant, but if you insist, then here.." he flung the papers at her. "Those are the rules, read and abide by them. If you break any, you're out." Rule number one: Do not go through my emails. Do not make loud noises. No heels allowed.Do not... Do not... Do not... It was never-ending. "Such an asshole... You've got yourself a challenge, Lennox Ray. I'm going to do my very best to please you, that when it's time for me to leave, you'll be begging me to stay with a triple increase in my fucking salary".

Seven years ago, my fiancé, Don Dante Moretti, sent me to prison to take the fall for my adopted sister, Chiara. He called it a gift—a way to protect me from a worse fate. Today, he picked me up from prison only to abandon me at my family's estate. His reason? Chiara was having another one of her "episodes." My parents then informed me I'd be staying in the third-floor storage room, so as not to disturb the fragile girl who stole my life. They celebrated her "recovery" with a lavish dinner party, while I was treated like a ghost. When I refused to join, my mother hissed that I was ungrateful, and my father called me jealous. They assumed I couldn't understand their venomous whispers. But prison was my university. I learned Spanish. I understood every word. It was then I realized I wasn't just a sacrifice; I was disposable. The love I once felt for all of them had turned to ash. That night, in the dusty storage room, I logged onto an encrypted channel I'd set up years ago. A single message was waiting: "The offer stands. Do you accept?" My hands, scarred and steady, typed back, "I accept."

The day my guardian, Dante Moretti, announced his engagement was the day I started planning my death. Not a literal one, but the death of the girl who had orbited his world for ten years. He was the Don of the Moretti family, the man I'd secretly loved since I was a child. But with his new fiancée, Sofia, on his arm, he began to erase me. He even forgot my severe allergy, gifting me a watch that would blister my skin. He had ripped apart the diary where I confessed my love for him. "I am your guardian," he'd spat. "Do not ever cross that line again." Yet one night, drunk and stumbling, he crashed his mouth onto mine, his hands roaming my body as he pushed me against the wall. He groaned, but the name that escaped his lips wasn't mine. "Sofia..." When I screamed my own name—Elara—he shoved me away in horror. He wasn't horrified by his betrayal, but by the fact that he'd kissed the wrong woman. That was the final straw. I took the acceptance letter to a university in Toronto that I had kept hidden like a prayer. I called my estranged father and booked a one-way ticket. This time, I would burn my old life to the ground and leave nothing but ashes behind.

For five years, I was married to a man the world adored. I told myself he wasn't a monster, just incapable of love. I learned the truth when his men dragged me from a hospital bed to bake a cake for the spoiled lover he cherished more than life. He let that man, Cinnamon, carve a painting into my back with a needle. He had me thrown into a walk-in freezer when I refused to cook. He even made me crawl through a swimming pool filled with broken glass, all to appease Cinnamon's cruel whims. I finally understood. My husband wasn't incapable of love; he was just incapable of loving me. He was a monster, but only for him. The day I walked out of that pool, bleeding and broken, my love for him was dead. The next morning, I finalized our divorce and bought every billboard in the city with my last dollar. My message was simple: "I, Adelaide Atkinson, am officially divorced from Alonzo Taylor. Best wishes for his future with Mr. Cinnamon Webster."

For years, I was known as Killian Emerson’s only weakness, the anchor for the ruthless crime boss while he built an empire. I thought it was for us, a life he was building to protect me. But then I found out the truth. My high school bully, Dallas, was his mistress. He paraded her around at galas, bought her penthouses, and funded her multi-million-dollar cat sanctuary. He bought her a sanctuary for stray cats while my brother was dying. I begged him for money for a life-saving treatment, but he told me he was busy and hung up. My brother died alone. Killian didn’t even come to the funeral. When he finally called, he sounded bored. "Sorry to hear about your brother," he said casually, while I could hear Dallas in the background asking him to go ring shopping. In that moment, the last bit of love I had for him simply died. He had forgotten every promise, even the one he made to ruin Dallas for carving "Worthless" into my wrist years ago. Now, he protects her. He even let her crush the last memento my brother ever made for me, then broke my wrist when I lunged at her. After a car crash he caused, he left me bleeding in the wreckage to save Dallas, without a single look back. But the biggest secret was yet to come. Lying in a hospital bed, a call from the county clerk revealed the truth. Killian and I were never legally married. The entire foundation of my life was a lie designed to control me. And now, I'm taking back everything he stole from me. Starting with his empire.

"It was just one night stand, and now I'm pregnant with triplets? Gosh!" Josephine Jade never thought that she would have to run away from her own family while pregnant. She was alone, without money, without connections, with three fetuses in her stomach. How can she survive? However, Josephine couldn't give up now, until she managed to reclaim her arbitrarily seized property and get back at everyone who tried to get rid of her. A sick child, a past crush that comes back, a mysterious eccentric man, and a family that hates her, will weave together the journey of Josephine Jade's new life. "You have no right to separate me from my children, you bastard! I will survive and you will submit to me. Just watch!"

"Don't die on me, Tom, I can't lose you for the second time. It will ruin me." Vivienne said desperately, holding his sweaty face in her hands. Tom hid his pain and smiled up at her. "There are too many filthy fantasies of you and I in my head that I'm yet to carry out. I won't forgive myself if I die, Vee." She couldn't look away... ~ For Eight years, Vivienne lost her light after the death of her teenage lover, Tristan Bennett. Forced to engage his cruel stepbrother based on based on family's agreement, she made the decision to flee on their wedding day. Now, hidden in a city where no one knows her name, she sort for a new job only for her to discover that her new billionaire boss was her lover who died eight years ago. He doesn't remember her. He bears another name. And he has another woman now? Not any ordinary woman-A dangerous mafia lord's daughter who happens to be obsessed with him. But Tristan, now known as Tom in his new mafia world wants to bail out, and he needs a contract marriage with a new woman to leave his obsessive girlfriend. Vivienne agreed to the marriage contract with every intention to help him get back his past memories. But what happens when all circumstances surrounding them threatens to sabotage her efforts? Tom's cruel stepbrother who wanted Vivienne than breath itself-His Mafia boss, and his obsessive girlfriend. Vivienne must risk danger and death to be with her lover again. But some problems are far too complicated with many secrets to solve, and Vivienne is about to find out.

TERZO When I took someone's life, I knew there was no going back. To seek redemption and save my sister from marrying an evil like Francesco Giordani, I have to find his runaway daughter. The job should be easy- bring Dani Souls home by any means necessary. But when life takes an unexpected turn, it's not always in the right direction. I find myself drawn to her. Seeing her terrified of me, I take it to my advantage. I didn't give her many options: marry me or marry another monster. My only issue is that she doesn't know I killed her brother. *** DANI When a tall, dark, and mysterious man steps into my life, I know he's a made man- extremely dangerous. In a moment of weakness, I shot him.  For someone like Terzo Siciliano, a ruthless, unforgiving, and incapable of emotions, whose surname is feared by many, I should be dead by now. Instead, he plays his cards right and lures me into a trap- a marriage for my protection, or he owns my life. While our families are on the verge of a raging war, I feel helpless to resist his devilish charm. But I don't know which feels much worse, me treading on dangerous waters or uncovering his deceit?

My husband, a mafia underboss and a brilliant neurosurgeon, left me to die on the side of a highway in the pouring rain. He had to rush to another woman, his true love, who'd had a minor car accident. As I lay bleeding on a gurney after being hit by a truck, I learned I was eight weeks pregnant. But my hope was short-lived. The hospital was out of my blood type, and the only reserve had been set aside by my husband for his lover, just in case she had "post-op complications" from her cosmetic procedure. Over the phone, I heard the nurse beg him. "This woman, and your... this baby will die!" His reply was ice. "Isabella is my priority." He let our child die to save her from a minor risk. The ledger where I'd been keeping score of his sins finally hit zero. I was free. Two years later, I've built a new life, a new career, and found a new love with a man who cherishes me. I'm no longer the broken wife, but a celebrated architect, nominated for a prestigious award. And tonight, at the awards ceremony, he found me. He got on his knees in the middle of the ballroom, begging for a second chance.

On my wedding night, I made a vow to Liam Gallo, the most feared man in New York. "If you ever betray me," I whispered, "I will vanish from your life as if I never existed." He laughed, thinking it was a romantic promise. It was an oath. Three years later, I discovered his betrayal. It wasn't just an affair; it was a public humiliation. His mistress, Ava, sent me photos of herself in my places, wearing jewelry he'd given me, taunting me with her presence in my life. And Liam let her. The final blow came at our Hamptons estate. I saw them together, Liam and a triumphant, pregnant Ava, in front of his inner circle. He was choosing her, his pregnant mistress, over his injured wife, demanding I apologize for upsetting her. In my own home, I was an obstacle. In my own marriage, I was a prop. The love I clung to for years finally died. Ava's texts confirmed it all, including a picture of an ultrasound captioned "Our baby," and another of her wearing the necklace he named "Maya's Dawn." So, on the morning after our anniversary party, I enacted my plan. I liquidated my assets, bulldozed the garden he planted for me, and served him divorce papers. Then, with a new identity, I walked out of the service exit and disappeared into the city, leaving the man who broke his vows to the wreckage of the life he destroyed.

At my ten-week ultrasound, I was supposed to be celebrating the future of the Falcone family. I was Isabella Falcone, wife to the most powerful Don in the south. But when the nurse called my name, the man who stood up beside his pregnant mistress was my husband. In the sterile silence of that waiting room, he chose her. He later confessed he was being blackmailed by her family—a weakness that was a death sentence in our world. That night, he moved his mistress into our home, into my bedroom, and locked me away like a prisoner in the staff quarters. He wasn't imprisoning his wife; he was guarding an asset. He needed the legitimate heir I carried to save his crumbling empire. His betrayal was absolute when his own mother and my adoptive parents arrived while he was away. They forced me to sign divorce papers, then told me they were taking me to a clinic. His mother pulled out a gun and pointed not at my head, but at my stomach. "We're terminating this complication," she said coldly. As they dragged me from the house, my world went dark. But through the haze, I saw a fleet of black cars blocking the gate. An army of men poured out, led by a face I had only ever seen in a photograph. Days earlier, locked in my room, I made a single phone call to the only man more powerful than my husband: my biological father, the head of the Chicago Outfit. And he had come to collect his daughter.