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 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.

On my wedding day to Julian Moretti, the future Mafia Don, I was deliberately sent to the wrong penthouse. My half-sister Sofia had crawled into my fiancé's bed, leaving me to be discovered by the family's exiled, alcoholic cousin. In my past life, I was shattered by this orchestrated betrayal. I cried and begged when Julian publicly humiliated me, choosing his illegitimate mistress over his rightful bride. I played the perfect, dignified Mafia wife for years. I swallowed his insults, ignored his infidelities, and accepted my ruined reputation to keep the peace. But my blind obedience only paved the way for my murder. Julian discarded me, and I was poisoned to death so Sofia could steal my crown as the Mafia Queen. Until my agonizing last breath, I didn't understand. I had honored our families' blood alliance flawlessly. Why was I the sacrificial lamb while they were rewarded for their treason? Opening my eyes again, I was back on the dark leather sofa, suffocating in my heavy silk wedding dress. This time, I didn't shed a single tear. I grabbed a heavy brass letter opener, marched straight into the Don's main study, and slapped the Underboss across the face in front of the entire family. "A Valdez woman does not share her husband," I declared coldly. "To honor the alliance, I will marry Dante." If they wanted to make my humiliation a fact, I was going to make it a funeral.

I was dragged back from the countryside by my father for one purpose: to be a sacrificial lamb. He ordered me to marry the mafia Don Damien Valachi in place of my sister. Everyone in the underworld knew that this Don's brides never saw the light of the next day. My stepmother put on a fake smile and took my hand, calling it an "honor"; my sister hid behind her, unable to conceal the gleam of triumph in her eyes. I smiled coldly and held up two fingers: "Twenty million dollars. Now." My father tried to play tricks, planning to take back the money from my trust fund after I died, but I had someone transfer every cent out before the wedding, leaving him a zero balance. The next day, the wedding car pulled up to the Valachi estate. The butler ordered the driver to use the service entrance-it seemed my groom didn't think I was worthy of the front gate. I got out and switched to an armored vehicle. I floored the accelerator, crashing straight through the estate gates. The gates shattered, and I didn't stop until I reached the main steps. I jumped out, the heel of my shoe crushing a broken iron railing, and shouted: "The bride is here." I looked up, scanning every window until my gaze stopped on one dark pane. I knew Damien was watching. I brushed the dust off my skirt, raised my voice a notch, and smiled: "What, the Don of the Valachi family doesn't dare come out to meet his new wife?"

On my birthday, my husband Dante asked for a divorce over a plate of cold lasagna. He held my hand, tears in his eyes, and told me his mistress was pregnant. "It’s a miracle, Elena," he wept. "God has finally given me a son." He looked at me with pity, calling me "broken" because I hadn't given him an heir in eight years. He moved his pregnant mistress into the penthouse I paid for, and his mother mocked me as a "dry vine" while cooking tonic soups for the new woman. They didn't know the truth I had buried three years ago. I remembered the day the doctor slid the file across the desk: *Azoospermia. Zero sperm count.* Dante was the sterile one. I had burned the results to protect his fragile ego as a Mafia Don. I took the blame. I drank his mother's vile herbal poisons every morning until I vomited, just to keep his secret. Now, he was discarding me for a "miracle" that was biologically impossible. I signed the divorce papers without a tear. Then I bought the debt of his company, put on a blood-red dress, and walked into his heir's Christening. I didn't come to object. I came to plug a USB drive into the projector and show the entire underworld exactly whose "miracle" that baby really was.

I was the brilliant money launderer for the most feared syndicate on the East Coast, and the fiercely loyal wife of its Underboss, Dante. While I worked sleepless nights to build his underworld dominion, he secretly diverted my operations to fund a luxury club for his naive barista mistress. When I confronted them and publicly exposed her, Dante didn't show a shred of guilt. Instead, he slapped me across the face in front of the entire syndicate. He draped his tailored jacket over his crying mistress to shield her, then turned his cold eyes on me. "Apologize to her right now, or I will send every single soldier in your crew to the slaughterhouse." He then weaponized the mafia's whisper network to destroy my reputation, painting me as a hysterical, paranoid woman just to legitimize his affair. For years, I had blindly endured his psychological torture, believing my devotion would eventually earn his respect. But looking at the brutal purple handprint on my cheek, and the ninety-nine dried bouquets of white roses he kept in the attic to carelessly patch over his toxic abuse, my heart finally turned to ice. I didn't throw a tantrum, nor did I beg for his love anymore. I left his apology blood diamonds on the table, drafted my mafia severance papers, and walked out of his territory for good. This time, I would build my own empire, and let him drown in the ruins of his.

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."

My mother is marrying a monster tomorrow. I'm the only one who remembers. My widowed mother was arranged to marry Lorenzo, a powerful Mafia Capo. I thought his status would finally bring us protection. But on the third day of their marriage, Lorenzo moved his pregnant mistress, Camilla, into the estate's master suite. She loudly claimed the child in her womb was the orphaned blood of a fallen soldier. "A Capo of Lorenzo's stature is doing your mother a service," the Syndicate wives mocked me, demanding we accept our place. Camilla systematically seized my mother's territory cuts and subjected her to endless psychological torture, while Lorenzo simply turned a blind eye. When the baby was born, it bore the exact same distinct birthmark on its neck as Lorenzo. Only then did we realize Lorenzo had used my mother as a convenient shield for his illicit affair, stealing my dead father's legacy and slowly draining our lives away. I didn't understand why the Family's brutal justice allowed a thief to siphon funds under the guise of caring for a martyr's widow, leaving us to die in absolute disgrace. Opening my eyes again, I was back to the day before the mob wedding. Looking at my six-year-old hands, I grabbed the torn marriage petition and stole the secret trust documents. This time, I ran straight to the heavily guarded gates of Don Salvatore, the most ruthless executioner in the city.

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.

"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!"

For two years, my world was circumscribed by the biometric lock on our penthouse and silent prayers for my husband, Vincenzo, the most feared Underboss of the Cosa Nostra. But when he finally returned from a brutal three-week smuggling route, he tossed me a cheap five-dollar tourist scarf, while his ex-lover Camilla flaunted the flawless pearl necklace he had just bought her. He abandoned me with a bleeding hand to rush to her side, ignored my severe medical emergencies to comfort her over trivialities, and publicly humiliated me at a Syndicate banquet by seating her in my rightful place at the head of the table. Camilla cornered me in the powder room, her fragile victim facade dropping instantly as she smirked at my reflection. "The thing a powerful man fears most isn't a wife who screams. It's a useless one who refuses to bow out gracefully." I endured his blatant disrespect and broken Omertà, wondering why my unwavering loyalty meant nothing compared to the manipulative tears of a woman who was actively leaking his classified safehouse coordinates. I didn't understand why he treated his sacred vows like garbage, eagerly feeding her Syndicate intel just to play the big, strong hero while leaving me to face cartel death threats entirely alone. But I was done being the neglected mafia wife waiting in the shadows. I calmly activated the covert audio recording device hidden inside my designer clutch. It was time to present this irrefutable evidence to the Don's Tribunal, strip my husband of his title, and build my own empire.