Kenny Ohms

Sophia Morelli has lived a life of luxury, but it's a luxury tainted by the shadow of her family's mafia connections. Trapped in a gilded cage, she yearns for freedom from the violence and deceit that surround her. But when her father, the head of the Morelli crime family, arranges her engagement to a man she despises, her life takes a dark turn. Dante Rossi, the ruthless and calculating head of a rival mafia family, is a man who commands respect and fear. He's spent years building his empire and erasing any weakness, but everything changes when he's ordered to protect Sophia from the escalating threats to her life. What starts as a reluctant duty soon turns into a dangerous game of passion and power.

Born under the Blood Moon, Sarah Law has always felt the curse in her veins- a mark of ancient magic, feared by her pack and hunted by those who know the prophecy. When her pack betrays her on her eighteenth birthday, offering her as a sacrifice to the wild Lycans, Sarah expects death. What she finds instead is him. Damien Knights, the exiled Lycan King, scarred by war and bound by vengeance, saves her for reasons even he doesn't understand. She's the key to lifting the curse that plagues his people... but also the one who could destroy him. As enemies close in, secrets unravel, and the full extent of Sarah's power awakens, a bond forms between the cursed girl and the broken king- one forged by blood, fate, and a darkness neither of them can escape.

When Tony Anderson returns to the estate he once called home, it's not to reclaim the billion-dollar family legacy- it's to destroy the man who stole everything from him: his own father. But with his inheritance comes more than cold marble halls and corporate dominance. It comes with Sandy Taylor- the woman he once loved, now engaged to his half-brother. As Tony uncovers the secrets buried deep in the Anderson dynasty, one truth becomes clear: he wasn't meant to be the heir... but he's the only one ruthless enough to carry the name.

Lena Matthews never expected her life to turn upside down when her mother remarried, bringing along her new stepbrother, Jace Sullivan. Jace, with his smoldering good looks and rebellious attitude, is everything Lena never wanted in a step-sibling. The tension between them is palpable, but Lena keeps her distance, determined to ignore the undeniable chemistry that grows between them. However, when a shared family secret emerges, everything changes. Lena is thrust into a whirlwind of emotions, betrayal, and temptation as the truth unravels. Jace, who has always been the bad boy with a troubled past, becomes her unexpected protector. As they navigate their newfound connection, Lena must decide whether to risk it all for a forbidden love that threatens to tear their family apart or walk away before it's too late.

Violet Kensington is a woman on a mission. After years of working her way up in the corporate world, she's finally earned a coveted position at the prestigious Westbrook Industries-a company led by the enigmatic and infuriatingly handsome billionaire, Liam Westbrook. With his cold demeanor and reputation for ruthless decision-making, Liam is nothing like the man she expected to meet. But there's more to Liam than meets the eye, and Violet soon finds herself tangled in a forbidden affair that threatens to derail her career. Liam Westbrook, the elusive CEO of Westbrook Industries, has long since sworn off love. His life is built on control, and he's not about to let a fiery intern like Violet disrupt his carefully constructed world. But the more time they spend together, the harder it becomes for him to ignore the undeniable chemistry between them. As passion flares and boundaries blur, secrets from Liam's past begin to surface-secrets that could destroy everything, including the fragile relationship they've built.

For centuries, the Ashbane and Nightclaw packs have been locked in a brutal feud soaked in blood and vengeance. Elle Davenport, daughter of the Ashbane Beta, was raised to hate the Nightclaws-especially their ruthless Alpha, Brandon Osgood. So when she's taken hostage during a border ambush, she expects death... not the glowing mark of the mate bond binding her to her sworn enemy. Brandon doesn't want a mate-especially not her. But the bond is unbreakable, and something darker than war is stirring in the woods. Rogue packs are rising, alliances are shifting, and an ancient prophecy foretells a union that could either save or doom them all. Now, bound by fate and hunted by forces that want them dead, Elle and Brandon must choose: destroy each other... or fight side by side. Love was never part of the war. But the moon has other plans.

A desperate escape to her childhood home leads Isabella Bennett straight into the hands of Maximo Morelli, the cold and calculating mafia don. Unaware of his true identity, she spends one unforgettable night with him, only to wake up the next morning to find him gone, leaving behind only a cryptic warning note. Despite his attempts to push the night out of his mind, Maximo finds himself consumed by thoughts of Isabella. But when he discovers that her father betrayed the mafia, Maximo takes Isabella captive, vowing to make her life a nightmare. However, as he gets closer to her, he finds himself drawn to her in ways he can't ignore. What starts as hatred evolves into desire, and lust turns into an undeniable passion. Will they surrender to their explosive chemistry? Or will the shadows of the mafia pull them into an inescapable darkness?

After the ultimate betrayal, Sienna's world shatters: As Luna of her pack, she dedicated her life to duty, loyalty, and servitude-only to find her mate, Alpha Mason, in the arms of her own sister. Heartbroken and stripped of her place within the pack, Sienna flees, leaving behind everything she once knew. But fate has other plans. When she escapes to a remote village halfway across the world, she uncovers an ancient secret hidden beneath the blanket of Christmas snow. Rafael is captivating, mysterious, and fiercely protective of her-but he's not what he seems. A vampire cursed with immortality, Rafael carries centuries of secrets, danger, and heartbreak. As their connection deepens, Sienna faces a choice: Will she embrace her second chance mate and the darkness he brings, or will her loyalty to the pack and fear of the unknown keep her running?

Betrayed, rejected, and humiliated in front of her entire pack by her one true love, Jaxon Hale, Amara thought her life was over when he auctioned her off like she was nothing. But her fate took an unexpected turn when she met *him*. Dante Moretti, a ruthless Alpha mafia leader, purchased Amara not for love, but for revenge. Fueled by a deep grudge against her family, he intended to use her as a pawn in his vendetta. Yet, what he didn't anticipate was the undeniable pull between them. He didn't expect to desire her, to cherish her, or to claim her as his own. When love and vengeance collide, Dante is forced to confront his own demons and make an impossible choice. Will he hold on to his hatred, or will Amara's love be enough to redeem him?

Her life was turned upside down, and she struggled to grasp onto anything as everything around her changed in an instant. One moment, she was drowning in heartbreak, and the next, she was abducted by a man she didn't even know. Clara Matthews, a young assistant, had just uncovered the truth about her boyfriend's infidelity-caught in the act with her childhood best friend. While the betrayal of her boyfriend hurt deeply, seeing her best friend in his arms was a pain she couldn't bear. Devastated and unable to pull herself together, Clara thought nothing could be worse than the betrayal she had just endured. But that was before she met him. Damien "The Wolf" Russo, a heartless and calculating Mafia leader, was known for his ruthlessness. With a reputation that struck fear into the hearts of those who crossed him, he had no room for love or softness. Having witnessed the cruelty of his mother toward his father, he had sworn off trust and affection. He wasn't interested in a wife- only a woman who would fulfill an agreement. But fate had other plans when he crossed paths with Clara, the one woman who would make him question everything he believed about love.

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.

I was the spare daughter of the Vitiello crime family, born solely to provide organs for my golden sister, Isabella. Four years ago, under the codename "Seven," I nursed Dante Moretti, the Don of Chicago, back to health in a safe house. I was the one who held him in the dark. But Isabella stole my name, my credit, and the man I loved. Now, Dante looked at me with nothing but cold disgust, believing her lies. When a neon sign crashed down on the street, Dante used his body to shield Isabella, leaving me to be crushed under twisted steel. While Isabella sat in a VIP suite crying over a scratch, I lay broken, listening to my parents discuss if my kidneys were still viable for harvest. The final straw came at their engagement gala. When Dante saw me wearing the lava stone bracelet I had worn in the safe house, he accused me of stealing it from Isabella. He ordered my father to punish me. I took fifty lashes to my back while Dante covered Isabella's eyes, protecting her from the ugly truth. That night, the love in my heart finally died. On the morning of their wedding, I handed Dante a gift box containing a cassette tape—the only proof that I was Seven. Then, I signed the papers disowning my family, threw my phone out the car window, and boarded a one-way flight to Sydney. By the time Dante listens to that tape and realizes he married a monster, I will be thousands of miles away, never to return.

I was the "Caged Canary" of the underworld, a biological asset designed to merge two crime families. My fiancé, Bryant Barnes, didn't love me. He loved the power I brought, and he loved his mistress, Kalia. The night Kalia broke into my penthouse and stomped on my hand, crushing the bones and my fashion career, Bryant didn't help me. He told the police she was my guest and warned me not to embarrass him with a cast. That was just the beginning. When Kalia lied about feeling unsafe, Bryant dangled me off a balcony. When she faked a kidnapping, he locked me in an industrial freezer for six hours until I turned blue. And when I fell into the marina, he swam right past me to save her, leaving me to drown in the freezing water. He destroyed my body and my dignity for a woman who was stealing my designs and faking a pregnancy. He thought I was just a broken obligation he could discard. But he made a fatal mistake. He didn't make sure I was dead. I dragged myself out of the water and made a call to his greatest rival. On the night of our grand merger, I walked onto the stage wearing royal blue instead of white. I rolled up my sleeve to reveal the scars he gave me, looked him dead in the eye, and grabbed the microphone. "I hereby terminate my engagement to Bryant Barnes. And I am proud to announce my betrothal to the true King of this city."

On our fifth anniversary, my husband slid a black velvet box across the table. Inside wasn't a diamond ring, but a fountain pen. "Sign the separation papers, Aurora," Ethan said. "Ilene is spiraling again. She needs to see we are over." I was the wife of the Mafia Underboss, yet I was being discarded for the Family Ward. Before I could answer, Ilene stormed into the restaurant. She shrieked that I was still wearing his ring and threw a bowl of boiling lobster bisque directly at my chest. As my skin blistered and peeled, Ethan didn't rush to me. He hugged her. "It's okay," he soothed the woman who had just assaulted me. "I've got you." The betrayal didn't stop there. When Ilene pushed me down the stairs days later, Ethan erased the security footage to protect her from the police. When I was kidnapped by his enemies, I called his emergency line—the one meant for life-or-death situations. He declined the call. He was too busy holding Ilene's hand to save his wife. That was the moment the chain broke. As the kidnapper's van sped onto the highway, I didn't wait for a rescue that would never come. I opened the door and jumped into the dark. Everyone thought Aurora Bruce died on that pavement. Two years later, Ethan stood outside a gallery in Paris, looking at the woman he had destroyed, finally realizing he had protected the wrong one.

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."

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.

I died on a Tuesday. It wasn't a quick death. It was slow, cold, and meticulously planned by the man who called himself my father. I was twenty years old. He needed my kidney to save my sister. The spare part for the golden child. I remember the blinding lights of the operating theater, the sterile smell of betrayal, and the phantom pain of a surgeon's scalpel carving into my flesh while my screams echoed unheard. I remember looking through the observation glass and seeing him-my father, Giovanni Vitiello, the Don of the Chicago Outfit-watching me die with the same detached expression he used when signing a death warrant. He chose her. He always chose her. And then, I woke up. Not in heaven. Not in hell. But in my own bed, a year before my scheduled execution. My body was whole, unscarred. The timeline had reset, a glitch in the cruel matrix of my existence, giving me a second chance I never asked for. This time, when my father handed me a one-way ticket to London-an exile disguised as a severance package-I didn't cry. I didn't beg. My heart, once a bleeding wound, was now a block of ice. He didn't know he was talking to a ghost. He didn't know I had already lived through his ultimate betrayal. He also didn't know that six months ago, during the city's brutal territory wars, I was the one who saved his most valuable asset. In a secret safe house, I stitched up the wounds of a blinded soldier, a man whose life hung by a thread. He never saw my face. He only knew my voice, the scent of vanilla, and the steady touch of my hands. He called me Sette. Seven. For the seven stitches I put in his shoulder. That man was Dante Moretti. The Ruthless Capo. The man my sister, Isabella, is now set to marry. She stole my story. She claimed my actions, my voice, my scent. And Dante, the man who could spot a lie from a mile away, believed the beautiful deception because he wanted it to be true. He wanted the golden girl to be his savior, not the invisible sister who was only ever good for her spare parts. So I took the ticket. In my past life, I fought them, and they silenced me on an operating table. This time, I will let them have their perfect, gilded lie. I will go to London. I will disappear. I will let Seraphina Vitiello die on that plane. But I will not be a victim. This time, I will not be the lamb led to slaughter. This time, from the shadows of my exile, I will be the one holding the match. And I will wait, with the patience of the dead, to watch their entire world burn. Because a ghost has nothing to lose, and a queen of ashes has an empire to gain.

I was a Vitiello, sold to the Morettis to secure an alliance. For five years, I quietly loved Dante, counting down the minutes until our wedding at St. Patrick's Cathedral. But it ended with a single text three minutes before the ceremony. "Stay at the apartment. Sofia is awake. Don't make a scene." His ex-girlfriend, the love of his life, had woken from a coma with no memory. Just like that, I was erased. For thirty days, I waited in the shadows while Dante played hero to a woman who didn't remember him. He told me he was protecting her fragile mind. But then I found the truth. I stood outside the doctor's office and heard Dante refuse a treatment that would restore Sofia's memory. "If she remembers, she might leave again," Dante told the doctor. "Elena will wait. She's a good soldier. Let me have my fantasy." He wasn't protecting her. He was keeping her broken to feed his ego, banking on my submission. He thought I was furniture he could put in storage. He was wrong. I didn't go back to the apartment. Instead, I dialed a number every made man in New York feared. "Matteo," I said to Dante's lethal older brother, the King of the underworld. "I am done waiting. I want to be a Moretti bride. But not Dante's."

I watched my husband, the most feared Capo in New York, sign away our marriage with the same cold indifference he usually reserved for ordering a hit. The nib of his Montblanc pen scratched against the paper, drowning out the rain hitting the coffee shop window. He didn't bother to read a single word. He thought he was signing routine shipping manifests for the family business. In reality, he was signing the "Dissolution of Union" papers I had hidden beneath the cover sheet. He was too distracted to check. His eyes were glued to his encrypted phone, frantically texting Sofia—the widow, the tragic beauty, the woman who had haunted our marriage for three years. "Done," he grunted, tossing the stack into his armored SUV without even glancing at me. "Business is concluded, Elena. We leave." Moments later, his phone rang with her special emergency tone. His demeanor shifted from cold boss to frantic protector instantly. "Driver, divert. She needs me," he roared. He looked at me with zero affection and ordered, "Get out, Elena. Luca will take you home." He kicked me out of the car into the pouring rain to rush to his mistress, completely unaware he had just legally granted me my freedom. I stood on the curb, shivering but smiling for the first time in years. By the time the Don realizes he just signed his own divorce, I will be a ghost in San Francisco. And he will have nothing left but his shipping logs and his regret.

For seven years, I served as the eyes for Dante Vitiello, the blind Capo of New York. I pulled him back from the edge of madness, tending to his wounds and warming his bed when everyone else had given up on him. But the moment his vision returned, the years of devotion turned to ash. In a single phone call, he decided to marry Sofia Moretti for territory, dismissing me as just "the maid's daughter" and a "comfort" he intended to keep as a mistress. He forced me to watch him court her. At a gala, when a chaotic accident caused a tower of champagne glasses to shatter, Dante threw his body over Sofia to protect her. He left me standing there, bleeding from the glass shards, while he carried her away like she was porcelain. He didn't even look back at the woman who had saved his life. I realized then that I had worshipped a broken god. I had given him my dignity, only for him to treat me like a disposable bandage now that he was whole. He arrogantly believed I would stay in the penthouse, grateful for his scraps. So, while he was out celebrating his engagement, I met with his mother. I signed the severance agreement for fifty million dollars. I packed my bags, wiped my phone, and boarded a one-way flight to Australia. By the time Dante came home to an empty bed, realized his mistake, and began tearing the city apart to find me, I was already a ghost.