HJ Lovelace

GIANNA RAINE The card with the 'Constantine De Graaf' written on it. That's the only clue that I got about the identity of the man that impregnated me. I'm not really interested in getting to know him...all I want is to inform him that I am pregnant. That's all. Then, I can move abroad and live a life with my baby as a single mom. But why am I staring at a familiar face? He had left as Elliott the bodyguard. All of a sudden, he's Constantine De Graaf?! CONSTANTINE I'm on cloud nine when Miss Gianna shows up in my office. But it all disappears when she reveals her purpose. WHO THE HELL DARE GETS HER PREGNANT?!!! WHEN I...NO! NO WAY! I'll do everything in my power to help her. For the meantime, I'll take care of her. Give everything she and the baby wants. I promised Miss Gianna that I'll help her find the father of the baby...but I didn't say alive.

After her father's death, Roseline Ferguson watched her mother crumble under the weight of grief and financial strain. So when a marriage proposal arrived-one that promised security and comfort-Roseline pushed aside her doubts. If it meant giving her mother a better life, she'd endure anything... even her cold, sharp-tongued new stepbrother. Maverick Cuervo has always done what his father asked-until the day that same father shattered their family, divorced his mother, and brought home a stranger and her daughter as replacements. Feeling betrayed, Maverick lashed out at the easiest target: Roseline. But what started as resentment slowly shifts into something neither of them expected. As tensions give way to undeniable attraction, Roseline and Maverick find themselves unraveling long-buried secrets-and stepping into a love that could either mend everything or tear their families apart for good.

Blythe Sanchez has had enough. After years of enduring her boyfriend's endless infidelity, her patience has run dry, and her heart is shattered. One impulsive night changes everything when she crosses paths with Larkin Callahan, a mysterious and irresistibly handsome stranger. Larkin's allure pulls her in, but behind his charming smile lie secrets that could either bring them together or tear them apart. What begins as a moment of passion quickly spirals into a whirlwind romance, forcing Blythe to confront not only her past but also the dangerous mysteries surrounding Larkin. Can she risk trusting her heart again, or will his secrets be the final betrayal?

Bella stood before a large mirror in a grand room, brushing her hair. She was preparing herself for what would happen on the first night of her marriage. As Bella was brushing her hair, the door to the room opened, and she saw in the mirror her husband approaching her. Bella put down her hairbrush and turned to face Leandro, who was standing with pride and honor behind her. "You can refuse if you don't want me to do this," Leandro said, his tone cold and formal. Bella lowered her head. She didn't want this. She didn't want to be touched by a man she didn't love. She didn't want anything to happen between her and a man she barely knew, except for their wedding day. But what could she do? She had to fulfill her husband's needs. If he wanted something to happen between them, she couldn't refuse. That's what her father had drilled into her mind. Leandro sighed, and Bella raised her gaze to meet his. Her eyes widened when she saw Leandro undressing. "If you're not going to say anything to stop me, I will take it as permission to have sex with you," Leandro stated. Bella firmly closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She stood up and slowly removed her nightdress. Leandro's lips parted in surprise at his wife's actions. Nevertheless, the desires of his flesh overpowered his other emotions. He quickly pulled his wife into a deep kiss, catching Bella off guard, leaving her with no time to close her eyes. The next thing she knew, she was lying on the bed with Leandro on top of her. Leandro's movements were swift. He removed Bella's underwear and looked at her one last time before speaking again. "You can still stop me," Leandro said in a hoarse voice. Bella took a deep breath and shook her head. "This is my obligation as your wife. You don't have to ask me again. Do it." Leandro retrieved a condom, put it on, and then positioned himself before slowly entering Bella. She screamed in pain and discomfort as she accepted her husband's entirety. Bella involuntarily pulled Leandro's hair as he continued to penetrate her slowly. Tears streamed down Bella's face as she felt Leandro's fullness inside her. She gradually began to feel Leandro's movements. That night, Bella experienced a mix of desire and bitterness. She surrendered to her husband's actions, but she cried and felt bitter because she was unsure if this was the life she truly desired. They shared a passionate night, and Bella barely remembered the details due to exhaustion. She woke up the next morning to find her husband no longer by her side. She later discovered that he had left the country early that morning, leaving her alone.

Monique soared to the heavens when Joshua made her his bride. Her love for him brimmed over, so much so that not even the absence of his best man could stop the ceremony. And she even fell in love more with her now husband after the union. What initially appeared to be the prologue of their happily ever after soon changed into a captivating illusion, woven with deceit and falsehood, shattering her once-rosy reality. Now faced with the daunting truth, Monique must grapple with the revelation that the husband she adored is not the man she believed him to be but instead his twin brother…Jacob. What if the lie that she had been living with was the fairytale that she had been wanting all her life? Is love enough to overshadow the web of deception entwining them?

Amelie Pearce, born into one of the prominent crime families in Chicago, is a princess of the mafia renowned for her physical attractiveness. However, what many perceive as a blessing becomes her downfall when she is compelled to marry Gio Merante, in order to establish peace between two mafia dynasties. Gio is the prospective head of the Merante Cartel within the New York Famiglia, a man infamous for his brutal nature and for strangling his cousin with his bare hands. Millie is filled with terror at the prospect of marrying such a monster. Despite being one of the most desirable bachelors in New York due to his good looks, wealth, and charismatic but predatory demeanor, Millie understands that Gio's bad boy persona is more than just an act. Behind Gio's captivating gray eyes and arrogant smile lie bloodshed and death. In her world, an attractive exterior often conceals a hidden monster—one capable of both killing and kissing with equal ease. However, escaping from the arranged union, let alone a man like Gio, is impossible. He would pursue her to the ends of the earth. Millie's only hope of survival in a marriage with Gio is to win his affection and gradually find her way into his heart—despite rumors that suggest Gio possesses no heart at all. A beautiful mafia princess given to a monstrous man. Even monsters harbor a heart. She fully intends to find her place within it.

Sheika Naya, a middle eastern princess who lives in isolation, seeks for freedom. Escaping from her father's strict ruling, she finds herself living a normal and yet risky life in the bustling city of New York. Still being trapped in lies about her true identity, Naya crosses paths with Finnigan Langston- an Omega from the Nightshade Howlers of the Eastern Coast. Both are escaping the lies that are continuously trapping them, they find strength in each other's presence as they search for answers in their respective dilemmas.. Will love be enough to defy what nature dictates? A story that rewrites the mythology of wolves, creating a more relatable world where love stands against the betrayal of time, culture, and lies.

I was three days away from marrying the Underboss of the Fazio crime family when I unlocked his burner phone. The screen glowed toxic bright in the dark next to my sleeping fiancé. A message from a contact saved as 'Little Trouble' read: "She is just a statue, Dante. Come back to bed." Attached was a photo of a woman lying in the sheets of his private office, wearing his shirt. My heart didn't break; it simply stopped. For eight years, I believed Dante was the hero who pulled me from a burning opera house. I played the perfect, loyal Mafia Princess for him. But heroes don't give their mistresses rare pink diamonds while giving their fiancées cubic zirconia replicas. He didn't just cheat. He humiliated me. He defended his mistress over his own soldiers in public. He even abandoned me on the side of the road on my birthday because she faked a pregnancy emergency. He thought I was weak. He thought I would accept the fake ring and the disrespect because I was just a political pawn. He was wrong. I didn't cry. Tears are for women who have options. I had a strategy. I walked into the bathroom and dialed a number I hadn't dared to call in a decade. "Speak," a voice like gravel growled on the other end. Lorenzo Moretti. The Capo of the rival family. The man my father called the Devil. "The wedding is off," I whispered, staring at my reflection. "I want an alliance with you, Enzo. And I want the Fazio family burned to the ground."

On my wedding day, my father sold me to the Chicago Outfit to pay his debts. I was supposed to marry Alex Moreno, the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. But he couldn't even be bothered to show up. As I stood alone at the altar, humiliated, my best friend delivered the final blow. Alex hadn't just stood me up; he had run off to California with his mistress. The whispers in the cathedral turned me into a joke. I was damaged goods, the rejected bride. His family knew the whole time and let me take the public fall, offering me his cousins as pathetic replacements-a brute who hated me or a coward who couldn't protect me. The humiliation burned away my fear, leaving only cold rage. My life was already over, so I decided to set the whole game on fire myself. The marriage pact only said a Carlson had to marry a Moreno; it never said which one. With nothing left to lose, I looked past the pathetic boys they offered. I chose the one man they never expected. I chose his father, the Don himself.

For seven years, I was the architect of my fiancé's criminal empire and the strategist behind his every move. I was Dante Gallo’s unofficial Consigliere, his partner in everything but name. Tomorrow, I was finally supposed to marry him and take my place as the queen to his throne. But on the eve of our wedding, a single text message sent by mistake detonated my life. It was a photo from Dante, showing a platinum wedding band on his hand. The message read: “Married this morning. She’s safe now.” My gaze fell to the engagement ring on my own finger. It was the identical band, just smaller. The engraved initials ‘D.I.’ didn’t stand for Dante and I. They stood for Dante and Isabella—his childhood sweetheart. My entire relationship was a lie; I was just a shield to protect his one true love. He dismissed my discovery as a "tantrum." Then, his new bride began taunting me, sending a picture of them tangled in bedsheets with the caption: "Loser." They expected me to break. They thought I would shatter. They were about to find out just how wrong they were. I forwarded the picture to Isabella’s fiancé, a man far more dangerous than Dante. "Your fiancée is in Suite 8808 at the Grand Hyatt," I told him. "I'll meet you downstairs. We're going to crash their party."

I stood outside my husband's study, the perfect mafia wife, only to hear him mocking me as an "ice sculpture" while he entertained his mistress, Aria. But the betrayal went deeper than infidelity. A week later, my saddle snapped mid-jump, leaving me with a shattered leg. Lying in the hospital bed, I overheard the conversation that killed the last of my love. My husband, Alessandro, knew Aria had sabotaged my gear. He knew she could have killed me. Yet, he told his men to let it go. He called my near-death experience a "lesson" because I had bruised his mistress's ego. He humiliated me publicly, freezing my accounts to buy family heirlooms for her. He stood by while she threatened to leak our private tapes to the press. He destroyed my dignity to play the hero for a woman he thought was a helpless orphan. He had no idea she was a fraud. He didn't know I had installed micro-cameras throughout the estate while he was busy pampering her. He didn't know I had hours of footage showing his "innocent" Aria sleeping with his guards, his rivals, and even his staff, laughing about how easy he was to manipulate. At the annual charity gala, in front of the entire crime family, Alessandro demanded I apologize to her. I didn't beg. I didn't cry. I simply connected my drive to the main projector and pressed play.

My marriage to Joshua Caldwell was a prison sentence. I was a Hartman trophy, sold to the powerful family who had destroyed mine. Then I discovered he was cheating. His mistress was pregnant with the child he denied me, and he was stealing my secret song lyrics to build her career. When I confronted him, he called me a spineless liability and threatened to destroy what was left of my family. To make matters worse, a one-night stand with a stranger turned out to be with my husband's brother, Anthony Caldwell-the Don of the city. He knew all of Joshua's secrets and used them to trap me in a twisted game, seeing me as nothing more than an asset. They both thought I was a broken doll they could control. I wrote a song for his mistress, a beautiful execution with a single, impossible note I knew would destroy her voice. She sang it, and now her career is over. Now the Don has summoned me to Chicago, not knowing the woman he thinks is his asset is the one who just burned his brother's world to the ground.

The moment I saw my husband massaging his dead brother's pregnant mistress's feet, I knew my marriage was over. He moved her into our home under the guise of "family duty," forcing me to watch as he prioritized her comfort over our vows. The final betrayal came when she stole and deliberately broke my mother's priceless necklace. When I slapped her for the desecration, my husband struck me across the face to defend her. He had violated a sacred honor code by putting his hands on the daughter of another Don-an act of war. I looked him in the eye and swore on my mother's grave that I would bring a bloody revenge upon his entire family. Then I made one phone call to my father, and the demolition of his empire began.

BLURB: River never intended to be pulled into the dangerous world of the Mafia, but a single moment of bravery changes everything. In an attempt to save the man who fuels her wildest fantasies, she unwittingly steps into the path of Rico Swavey, the ruthless Mafia Lord with a dark, hidden past. Rico has built his empire on control and secrecy, keeping his heart locked away. But when River, the doe-eyed woman who sparks something dangerous within him, stumbles into his life, his defenses begin to crumble. Haunted by a crime from his childhood, Rico struggles to accept love, especially from someone like River. What happens when she becomes a stripper in his club? Can River break through the walls around Rico's heart? And can Rico forgive himself for the sins of his past to embrace a future with her? Dive into their world of passion, danger, and redemption in HIS HEALING GRACE.

I was trapped in a locked-in state for six months, fully conscious but unable to move a single muscle. My step-family, Delma and Jazmyne, marched into my hospital room, forged a Do Not Resuscitate order, and yanked out my oxygen tube just to stop paying my medical bills. When my three-year-old daughter, Amari, leaped out from under the bed to protect me, they beat her mercilessly. They kicked my tiny girl in the stomach, smashed a heavy metal IV pole into her fragile shoulder, and dragged her out by her ankles. They even tied her to a tree in their backyard and let a massive Rottweiler tear into her flesh, laughing as they recorded her agonizing screams. I lay in that hospital bed, hearing every blow and every desperate cry. I didn't understand why they had to torture an innocent toddler just because they thought I was a worthless piece of trash with amnesia. A tidal wave of absolute fury crashed against the invisible walls of my paralyzed body, burning away the despair. Gritting my teeth until my jaw popped, I forced my dead weight off the mattress and dragged my atrophied legs across the freezing floor to a landline. With trembling, bloody fingers, I punched in a twelve-digit military-grade encrypted code. It was time for my real family—the most powerful men in the country—to make these monsters pay.

I was the Chicago Outfit's princess, and Luca and Matteo were my sworn protectors. We had mixed our blood at ten years old, promising that nothing would ever touch me. But that oath turned to ash the night Sofia Ricci aimed a Roman candle at my chest. The firework slammed into my shoulder, igniting my silk dress instantly. As I rolled on the concrete, screaming while the flames ate into my skin, I waited for my boys to save me. They didn't. Instead, I watched through the smoke as they rushed to Sofia. They wrapped their jackets—the ones meant to shield me—around the girl who had just set me on fire, comforting her because the "kickback" had scared her. They let me burn to keep her warm. When I woke up in the hospital with permanent scars, they brought me a letter of apology from her and defended her "accident." They even cut their palms to pay her debt, ignoring the fact that I was the one in bandages. That was the moment Elena Vitiello died. I didn't scream. I didn't beg. I simply packed my bags and defected to the one place they couldn't follow: the arms of Dante Moretti, the lethal Capo of New York. By the time they realized their mistake and came crawling back to beg in the rain, I was already wearing another man's ring. "You want forgiveness?" I asked, looking down at them. "Burn for it."

On my wedding day, the wedding planner looked at me with pity in her eyes. She told me the groom had called with a last-minute request. He wanted the name on the floral arch changed from "Elena" to "Sofia." Five years of loyalty to Dante Romero, and I found out he was planning a "secret" ceremony with his mistress an hour before ours. He claimed she was dying of cancer. He said it was her final wish to be a bride, and that as a good mafia wife, I should understand. He swore it was just charity. But I had seen the texts where he called me "furniture." I had watched him step over my body when I fell down the stairs at a club, just so he could leave with her. And this morning, I watched Sofia walk into the hotel lobby wearing *my* custom French lace wedding dress, smirking as she clung to his arm. Dante thinks I'm crying in the bridal suite. He thinks I will sit in the front row of his "fake" wedding and wait for my turn like a dutiful puppet. He is wrong. I wiped my tears and picked up my phone. I didn't cancel the wedding date. I just changed the location to the ballroom next door. And I changed the groom. As Dante says his vows to his mistress, I am walking down the aisle to meet the only man the Romero family fears. The Reaper.