Jane Joe

Evelyn Stone never believed in werewolves-until the night she witnessed one rip through a rival mafia boss. That night, her world turned upside down. Her family, known as the Stones, control the weapons trade in New York. Her father's dying wish? For her to marry into peace with their rival mafia clan, the powerful, secretive Romano family. But there's a catch. Luca Romano isn't just the heir to a criminal empire. He's a cursed Alpha-part of a bloodline bound to the moon, violent instincts, and a past soaked in blood. To the world, he's a businessman. But in the shadows, he rules a pack that obeys only him. Evelyn becomes his bride in a forced alliance, not knowing Luca's secret. He didn't expect to fall for her. And she didn't expect to crave the darkness inside him. But when an old prophecy resurfaces-declaring Evelyn as the "Blood Moon Mate" whose child would either end or enslave the werewolf race-both sides of the war want her dead. And the only man who can protect her... is the monster she's falling in love with. Now, Evelyn must choose: Run from the beast, or rule beside him.

"Pardon!! Who arranged that?" "Your head of PR, Mr silver," she said. "They think it'll make you more humanized and social. You know, billionaire CEO let's loose for once." Damon exhaled sharply, having a mix between a sigh and a scoff. "Humanize me. What nonsense is that!!" Amelia refrained from saying that, at times, Damon could certainly benefit from appearing human. "I already know you're going to hate it," she said instead. "But right now boss, the merger hinges on public opinion. You need this to work." Damon looked at her for the first time since they entered the SUV. His sharp, assessing eyes almost made her disappear from her seat. "And what do you know about public opinion, Amelia?" She looked at him squarely. "Enough to know you can't afford to be seen as an unreachable isolated billionaire anymore. The board is given a hint about new leadership. I think you need to play their game this time." Damon hated hearing the truth, especially when it was said so bluntly. But that was Amelia, always unafraid to speak her mind when others pretended in his presence. "Fine," he relented, facing his phone back. "But if I have to suffer through Ember Club tonight, you're coming too. Someone has to keep me from throwing a drink in someone's face." Amelia blinked. "Excuse me?" Damon Blackwood, an overworked billionaire CEO finds himself in an impulsive, drunken Las Vegas marriage with his assistant Amelia Harper. A wild night at a club, he expects to end it swiftly. However, a media scandal forces Damon to keep the marriage alive in other to protect his company's image and secure a critical business deal. What starts as a fake arrangement soon pulls Damon and Amelia into a journey of self-discovery and love. Amelia a strong-willed woman with dreams of opening her cafe, begins to chip away at Damon's cold exterior. Damon, haunted by loneliness and distrust, starts seeing life through Amelia's compassionate perspective. Complications arise with jealous ex-lovers, meddling family members, and the looming truth behind their fake marriage. As their six-month contracts near its end, both must confront their feelings and choose to return to their separate lives or risk everything for love.

Betrayed, devastated, and robbed of her legacy, Eira Croft's life takes a new turn when her wedding day is turned into her sister's wedding. Robbed of her empire, her husband, and her identity, she discovers she wasn't even a Croft and was never part of the family she considered her blood for 25 years. Left penniless and heartbroken, the homeless Eira is hit by a truck the moment she steps out of the gate. As she lay in her pool of blood, she wished for a second chance. Ironically, she gets reborn by the mischievous god who hit her with a truck and even receives a powerful system as an apology gift. Lucian, the neglected son of the underworld ruler, conceals his scars behind a reckless smile. Broken, he thought love was impossible until he met Eira. What's Lucian's past like? Read now and watch Eira's fierce return.

Lira, the princess of the silver wolf pack and the chosen child of the moon goddess, gets betrayed by her cousin and best friend Sofie, who lures her into a vampire's den. She is overwhelmed by the vampire who mates with her to get rid of a poison in its system. Lira is expelled by the pack and thrown out by her fiancé after her pregnancy is known to all. She is detested by both wolves and vampires for carrying an anomaly in her stomach; she leaves the fantasy world and comes to the world of humans. After five years, Lira meets Will, the vampire and father of her kids, during a checkup in the hospital. She decides to ignore him, but her past pack comes for her and her children, which makes her rely on Will. As a battle to protect her family unfolds, Lira finds out secrets that could prove to be a danger to her family, and she must protect her identity from the humans. How would she do it? Let's see.

Percy had always received the short end of the stick when it came to luck. Separated from his parents at the age of two, the child no one wanted to adopt, the very personification of bad luck, that was just Percy's life. Percy didn't care about all that stuff because, to him, he wasn't so cursed. He had Olivia, his fiancé, a house, money, and a job. That belief remained with him until he got sacked from work, walked in on his cheating girlfriend, and got his entire property stolen from him by her. As if the heavens were consoling him, Percy becomes the host of a system. How could he make use of that system? What secrets is the world still hiding from Percy, and is he terrible luck? We should see.

Freya Gregor is rejected by her destined mate, Troy Hugo, and seeks comfort in a one-night stand with a stranger, Duke Fillmore, who turns out to be her second-chance mate. Unknown to her, Freya carries special powers, which she gets through childbirth. She learned about her pregnancy in the presence of everyone at the crowning party of Troy as the Alpha of the Frosbite Pack, where he was about to announce her as his mistress and make Gina, his girlfriend, his Luna instead of Freya. But faith had other plans. What plans? Find this and many more out in this intriguing Novel.

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.

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.

Julieta thought a quiet night might finally bring some warmth to her cold marriage with Denver Kensington. But his mistress, Aisha, shattered that illusion by staging a fake fall down the grand staircase and framing Julieta for the miscarriage. Denver didn't listen to a single word of Julieta's defense. Instead, Aisha trapped Julieta on the terrace, shoved her over the stone railing, and screamed to the staff that Julieta was committing suicide. Severely injured from the fall and secretly pregnant herself, Julieta woke up in a private clinic only to face Denver's absolute disgust. He refused to believe the child was his. "You will terminate this pregnancy immediately." Denver left her locked inside with a rogue doctor, who quickly pinned Julieta to the floor with a lethal syringe aimed at her neck. As she fought desperately for her baby's life on the cold tiles, Julieta's heart completely shattered. How could the man she loved be so maliciously blind, willingly allowing his mistress to slaughter his legitimate wife and unborn heir? Just as the deadly needle descended, the clinic door was violently kicked off its hinges by the powerful Kensington Patriarch. Saved and granted absolute authority over the main estate, Julieta watched Denver storm away, silently vowing to build her own empire and make them pay.

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."

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.

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.

My husband swallowed a ten-year prison sentence to save me from my abusive stepfather. When he got out, he built a mafia empire and made me his Queen. But last night, his encrypted tablet lit up with an ultrasound photo and a text from another woman. "Our little secret is growing." The mistress soon called to mock me. She was pregnant, while I had been barren for four years. When I confronted my husband, he didn't apologize. Instead, he assigned heavily armed guards to protect her and burned my divorce papers with his cigar. "The only exit from this Family is death," he warned. The nightmare deepened when I uncovered her true identity. The mistress was my half-sister, and her mastermind was the mother who had abandoned me at six. My husband knew. He even whispered our sacred vow to her-"I will shield you from the blood"-the exact words he used when I lost our child on a freezing concrete floor for his syndicate. I took bullets for him. I waited a decade outside those prison gates. Yet he used my absolute loyalty to lock me in a cage, handing my crown to the family that threw me to the wolves. He thought I was just a helpless wife, entirely dependent on his mercy. He didn't know I was Vanguard, the shadow billionaire controlling the very lifelines of his empire. I calmly picked up my phone and called my head operative. "Liquidate his supply chains. Let's see whose empire turns to ash first."

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.

What's more embarrassing than a butt dial? Butt dialing your boss... And leaving a dirty voicemail when you're uhh... "thinking" about them. Working as Ruslan Oryolov's personal assistant is the job from hell. After a long day spent tending to the billionaire's every whim, I need some stress relief. So when I get home that night, that's exactly what I do. Problem is, my thoughts are still stuck on the bosshole who's ruining my life. That's fine-because of all Ruslan's many sins, being gorgeous might be the most dangerous. Tonight, fantasies of him are just what I need to push me over the edge. But when I look down at my phone squished next to me, There it is. A voicemail for 7 minutes and 32 seconds... Sent to Ruslan Oryolov. I panic and throw my phone across the room. But there is no undoing the damage done by my very vocal O. So what can I do? My plan was to just avoid him and act like it never happened. Besides, no one that busy checks their voicemails, right? But when he schedules a one-on-one meeting with me for exactly 7 minutes and 32 seconds, One thing is for certain: He. Heard. Everything.