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.

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.

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.

Three days after my fiancé publicly dumped me for my stepsister, the Supreme Don issued a command that silenced the entire estate. I wasn't being cast aside. I was being sold to Damien Russo. The "Broken Don." A crippled, scarred monster rumored to have murdered his last two wives. My adoptive mother, Elena, didn't cry for me. She smirked. To her, I was finally being disposed of. She was so confident I was walking to my death that she decided to loot my corpse before I even left. She forged documents to steal my entire inheritance—my biological mother’s trust fund—to pay for my stepsister’s lavish wedding to my ex. "She won't need money where she's going," my stepsister laughed, wearing a dress bought with my stolen funds. They thought they were sending a lamb to the slaughter. They thought I was too weak, too stupid, and too afraid of the monster to fight back. But they made a fatal mistake. With my aunt’s help, I didn't just find the proof of their embezzlement; I found a weapon. I’m not running from the monster. I’m going to marry him. And when I hand him the evidence that the Herrera family stole from his bride, he won't be my executioner. He will be my vengeance.

I was the perfect Mafia wife, my dowry the foundation of my husband's ambition. I paid for his Yale degree, his tailored suits, and the very mansion he called his own. My reward? He paraded his mistress into my bedroom and declared her his second wife, expecting me to silently finance their affair. They thought they had broken a merchant's daughter. They forgot I was raised by wolves. Armed with a blood chit—a life debt owed to my family by the most feared man in Chicago—I walked into the lion's den. I went to Damien 'The Wraith' Falcone, the Dark Don who rules the Outfit with an iron fist, to demand a simple annulment. But the King of Chicago isn't interested in simple transactions. He saw the steel beneath my silk, the vendetta burning in my eyes. He granted me my freedom, but at a price: my allegiance. Now, I'm a pawn in his lethal game of thrones, caught between a treacherous husband I swore to destroy and a ruthless Don who looks at me with a terrifying, possessive hunger. In a city built on loyalty and betrayal, I'm about to teach them all that a queen's wrath is the deadliest weapon of all.

"Happy Anniversary," my husband said, sliding the separation agreement across the mahogany desk. It was the eighteenth time in five years I had signed these papers. Matteo De Luca, the most ruthless Capo in New York, checked his Rolex with cold impatience. "Sign it, Sera. Bianca is on the ledge again. She needs to see we're over, or she jumps." Bianca. The ward. The broken bird. The woman whose fragile psyche dictated every moment of my marriage. I signed my name, and he left me alone on our anniversary to save her. Again. But saving her wasn't enough. When Bianca pushed me down a flight of marble stairs in a fit of jealous rage, shattering my spine and leaving me paralyzed, I thought Matteo would finally choose me. I was wrong. I woke up in the hospital to find him holding her hand, not mine. "The security footage has been wiped," he told me, his voice void of emotion. "We cannot have a scandal. You fell, Sera. That is the story." He erased the truth. He erased my pain. He protected the woman who crippled me over his own wife. Two months later, he wheeled me into a gala, playing the doting husband while I sat in the chair that was my prison. He didn't know I had a burner phone hidden in my velvet dress. He didn't know that tonight, the obedient wife was going to die on the pavement, and a ghost would rise in her place. I looked at him one last time and dropped the phone in his lap. "I hope she's worth it."

I am the wife of Dante Moretti, a powerful Mafia Underboss. But in secret, I am "Spettro," the phantom architect who built his entire encrypted bootlegging empire. On my birthday, I came home to find him gifting our five-year-old daughter the exact plush toy he had violently slapped out of my hands months ago. Only this time, he was giving it to his mistress, Adriana, to present as her own. "Auntie Adriana is a million times better than Mommy." My daughter's innocent words pierced my heart, while Dante coldly dismissed my presence, treating me like an unwelcome stranger interrupting their perfect family. He mocked my mothering, allowed his mistress to sever my desperate phone calls with my child, and weaponized his power to break our daughter's spirit just to spite me. He sneered that my only purpose was to stay quiet, absolutely certain I would crawl back the second my allowance ran dry. He thought I was just a weak, submissive wife who had lost everything. He didn't realize that the empire he arrogantly ruled was entirely built on my stolen brilliance. I left my diamond ring on the table, violently slashed our ancient blood oath in half, and walked out of his gilded cage forever. Sitting in a cold warehouse, I placed my hands on my telegraph machine and initiated the Ghost Protocol to permanently paralyze his entire criminal network. The era of playing the dutiful wife was over. I am Donna Falcone, and the vendetta has just begun.

I stood before the altar of the grand gothic cathedral, about to marry Julian Moretti, the grieving adopted son stepping up for the comatose Don. To the hundreds of mafia men behind us, it was a dutiful wedding. But I knew the horrifying truth. Julian and his pregnant mistress, Clara, had orchestrated a brutal plot to steal my dowry and secure his place as the next Don. In my past life, I was completely blind to their betrayal. Julian trapped me in our apartment and set it ablaze. I could still feel the blistering heat of the fire. I could still hear my mother’s agonizing screams and my little brother Antonio’s desperate coughing as the smoke filled our lungs. My entire family was burned alive just so Julian could swap the brides and put his whore in my place. I died in pure agony, filled with hatred and despair, wondering why I had trusted a monster. God hadn't saved me from those flames. The Devil had. And he sent me back to this exact moment at the altar. "Do you, Isabella Rossi, take Julian Moretti to be your lawfully wedded husband?" the priest asked. Julian reached for my hand with a sickeningly gentle smile. I didn't give it to him. I tore back my lace veil and turned to face the crowd. "You are mistaken, Father," I said, my voice like ice. "The man I am bound to marry is your Don. Damien Moretti."

At my boyfriend's poorest moment, I suddenly broke up with him. Later, he became a Don in the Mafia and married me by any means necessary. Everyone said he loved me to the bone. But every night, he brought different women home, deliberately trying to provoke me. I asked no questions, shed no tears, and never disturbed his trysts with his mistresses. He went crazy with rage instead, kissing me fiercely and demanding, "Why aren't you jealous?" He didn't know I was sick. Dying. While he was furiously taking his revenge on me, I was slowly walking toward death.

For seven years, I was his eyes. But the moment he regained his sight, he decided to marry someone else. Seven years of devotion couldn't buy his heart. I gave him back his dignity. Now that he was restored as the Godfather of the New York Mafia, he laughed with others, degrading me to the status of a mere "mistress." He thought I didn't understand Italian, but I heard him loud and clear: he was going to marry his first love. He arrogantly believed I would always love him, willing to stay in his penthouse like a caged bird. But he was wrong. I boarded a one-way flight to Australia. Dante, I don't want you anymore. By the time he returned home, he would have lost me forever. But a sore loser refuses to concede. Even if he had to burn the world to the ground, he would search for me and beg for my forgiveness.

I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.