MsGreen

A while ago, Juniel couldn't get enough of the gaze of a man sitting on the High Chairs near the Bar. Ever since he was hit by the man's gaze, he hasn't looked away even once. Meanwhile, he spent time with the man in front of him that he was talking to earlier. but no matter what the man said, it didn't seem to enter his ears. She was distracted, she admitted. No matter how he pretends, Tyron still has the same effect on him. Yes Tyron was the guy who was staring at her. when she and Tyron first met she couldn't sleep that night. Surely Tyron doesn't remember her. But what other reason why Tyron should remember him? He shook his head. Tyron should never know or remember him. he often sees Tyron because he is a stylist for the models of Tyron's company. It's like that's where the young man's feelings grew. When she tried to see where Tyron was, she felt dismay when she couldn't find the young man. maybe she feels strange when he stares at her but it's Tyron after all. He still prefers to see the young man up close He was very surprised to see Tyron on the dance floor still staring at him. She knew it! Tyron will approach him again! He quickly said goodbye to his companion and hurried away. But Tyrone's chasing her. He didn't want to talk to or get close to the young man. But Tyron quickly grabbed her by the arm. He was staring at her intently. it followed Tyron as he pulled him out of the bar and into the parking lot. "What!?" The young man yelled at him. Tyron's gaze stayed on Juniel. He felt as if some cold was rising in his system and his legs were shaking "You really don't want?" Tyron frowned. Juniel gasped. One night at Tyron's company party, the young man unexpectedly spoke to him. The conversation goes well at first until Tyron offers to have sex with her. That night Juniel couldn't sleep well. his whole body argued with Tyron's words. Well a part of her wants Tyron. Who is he to say no to someone like Tyron. But... Juniel has a pure feelings towards Tyron. she doesn't want to be like Tyron's girls that when they finish doing 'that' Tyron will just throw her away like one of his girls "I don't want to. That will never happen." The young man stepped closer to him. His heart felt like it was about to break out of his heart because it was beating so fast. "Are you sure? Why don't you?" "I'm not like your girls Tyron. So don't tease me anymore. My answer will never change. I don't want to!" Tyron smiled and put his finger to his lips. Gosh! he can no longer deny that the simple trail of your fingers on his lips attracted him. Especially with his baritone voice. Damn him! "Don't make me chase you Juniel. We both know that in this battle. I'm the winner. I will win. I will always win. I get what I want. Juniel will be yours."

"Your Highness!" "The Lord is here!" I heard shouts of someone in the palace of Paine.I saw mila outside the raging servants go to that noise. I went straight inside until I saw people gathering. "Intruder!" Shouted a soldier on the side and I was about to rush when I removed the cloak on my head. "W-Who are you?" A leader, maybe a servant, stammered. I said that because it was neat and classy. "I am the Lord bride.Princess Roseé Merald Stone from the Stone Palace." I said and got off the horse. All the servants who were blocking my path stepped aside when I saw who was the center of attention earlier. It looks like it's boiling — No! I don't think it's but my blood is really boiling in that lalaling. I slowly approached him and threatened him.

I don’t trust vampires, but if he’s the one that needs protection. I will gladly protect young master from danger.” –Maple Quinn Tempest."What?" I almost choked because I heard a suggestion from my friend. “Me? Be a bodyguard to a vampire? ”We are now in a café near our school. I’m Maple Quinn Tempest, 18 years old and currently looking for a job for personal reasons."Escort that." I rolled my eyes when she corrected me, art can only be a bodyguard. Even calling a bodyguard needs to be social, vampires are.Is he kidding? Me? Serving a vampire? “They are strong ah? Do we need a bodyguard? ”“He is different, you know that? He… needs protection from someone- AH BASTA! It's up to them to explain. ” Annoyed he says, psh. “Apple, you also need money for your brother. You know martial arts or defense, this job is perfect for you. ”I was frustrated, I shouldn't have said I knew how to kill. I've been looking for a job before, it's a difficult case because I'm still a student. I need money for my little sister, I have no choice.“Fine. I’ll guard este- escort this vampire… whatsoever. ” Phee's face suddenly lit up. Why does the fun he? what's up with that vampire?“Yesss! He will meet you today! He is coming! ” I was surprised by his answer. TODAY ?! IMMEDIATELY?“He’s hereeee ~”He immediately pulled me upright, I saw a black haired guy arriving in front of the café, I just couldn't see the color of his eyes. Ok, is he really that rich or something ?! Wait, is the limousine he rode in ?! WAIT BUSHET I'M NOT READY YET! I'M UGLY-"Wait, I'm not ready yet-"I could hardly breathe when he started approaching us, he had companions. His bodyguards are supposed to be in a suit and tie, confirmed. Rich old vampire.

Lucky is twenty-eight years old, NBSB but successful in her career as an erotic writer. Came from a rich family, but grew up independent and expected nothing but himself. She was happy and satisfied with her twenty-eight year career. but, suddenly came to the point where she wanted to have a child. Lucky is at the right age, she has saved a lot and has her own house, this is also what her parents have been asking for over and over again. Lucky has only one problem. she has genophobia, a mental health disorder characterized by a fear of sexual intimacy. No one else knows about Lucky's condition apart from her best friend slush Genesis. even to his own family, Lucky did not tell this for fear that her relatives would laugh at her or make fun of her condition, so adoption was not the answer to her desire to have a child. She only thought of one way, to conceive using the IUI procedure; a medical procedure in which a male donor's sperm is implanted directly into a woman's uterus. She told Genesis his plan, and her best friend supported him, but when she said she wanted to be a sperm donor, the man did not agree. He said he doesn't want to be responsible for any woman. Lucky has a way, but she didn't really think that she would have a hard time finding a sperm donor, she didn't want to be a Pontio Pilato donor, that's why he committed a crime one night after Genesis had sex with his flavor of the month. well, she just stole his friend's sperm. Will Lucky's pregnancy be successful? How will Genesis react when he finds out what his best friend did?

Tony Green, an A-list celebrity got into a serious car accident. The culprit? Ash Myers, an infamous singer, who was drunk driving. Due to this fateful event, Tony got into a coma and woke up with a condition called Savant Syndrome--a rare disease that he became a genius in music and math but at the same time, became an idiot in some activities of daily living. A favorable arrangement was offered to Ash. Will accepting it lead to her one true love or will it end in tragedy due to some twists and turns of life?

I was inside my car, driving as usual.But of course,Some enemies were following me.I'm not scared of anything,Even if it's death.What I'm afraid of,Is leaving something behind, Something.. Special. *Car crashed*" Sh*t! Sh*t!!! "" Call an ambulance immediately!!! "" Okay! Okay! Help!! "" I said call the ambulance!!! "I wasn't afraid of getting killed,What I was afraid of,Leaving someone behind, My precious mother." Hey, are you okay? "" Are you still alive? "" She's still breathing!! "" Where are the ambulance!!? "" We need to get her to hospital or she'll die! "I didn't know,That today is the end of me,I bet my enemies are happy,Of course they are, but who cares?I'm leaving my mother behind,Her daughter is gonna die,Not like she cares anyway,She has someone besides her even I'm gone,So that's okay,I have no regrets when I'm going to die, Even if it's for eternity." Here comes the ambulance! " I'm Meilippe Xiao, A daughter of a billionaire woman, Who is known for being a gangster, A woman who knows how to fight and defend herself on her own, Without relying to anyone, Independent, strong woman, That is me,All I know that before I was even brought to the hospital,I was dead on arrival,But how on earth,. . . Did I live again?

"You never looked at me as myself. You never treated me as a spouse because another woman is in your mind when we're together. Every time you say 'I love you,' with every embrace and kiss, it's her you're thinking of, not me. You loved me not because you loved me, but because you were keeping my sibling alive within me." Certainly! Here is the text translated into English: --- "Damn you!! Put me down!!” I kicked as hard as I can. I even pulled his hair and bit his shoulders so that he will let me go. “Stop it Van! You might fall!” he protested. But I tried even harder to free myself. I kept screaming for him to let me go, but he remained deaf. “You monster!! Manipulative jerk!! I hate you!! I really, really hate you!!” I shouted. I was on the verge of tears due to the extreme anger I felt towards him. Suddenly, he pushed me into a room and dropped me onto the sofa. Before I could even stand, he immediately went on top of me and pinned my arms. “Get off me!!” I wriggled my arms away. He closed his eyes and pressed his body closer to mine. My eyes widened when I felt 'him' coming to life. “Xander?” panic laced my voice. He put his forehead against mine. “God, I missed you so much Vannah.” He said, almost sobbing. I remained silent for a while. “Let me go Xander.” His grip tightened. He shook his head and buried his face in my neck. “I can’t. Savannah, I can’t. I can’t let you go.” I exhaled. Man, this is so frustrating. “Xander, please. I don't want this anymore. I'm tired of you. I'm tired of all of this. Just, let me go.” He looked at me wide-eyed. “No Savannah! No! You can't get tired. No! You can't leave. I can't bear another day without you, I'll go crazy. Please, just don't leave me.” I saw a tear fall from his eyes. I closed my eyes. No Savannah. Don't let yourself be fooled. Don't repeat your mistake from seven years ago. “Savannah..” he called. I just stared at him. I tried to push him with all my might and I succeeded. I sat there while he was trying to reach me. “Stop it Xander! What's so hard to understand about me not wanting this!” He was taken aback by what I said. He turned pale and seemed to have no strength to lower his hand. “I'm sorry. For everything that I said to you--“ I cut him off and stood up. “No. Don't ask for forgiveness. I understand. I understand it all, Xander.” My voice broke so I paused. I took a deep breath as I felt the same pain resurface. “I perfectly understood all the things that you said that night.” “Savannah..” “I know, I know that you married me not because you love me. You married me because you're in love with my twin, right?” “NO!!” he tried to hug me but I stepped back. “Don't touch me.” “Savannah, please, let me explain.” He pleaded but I just shook my head. “Your explanation is seven years late Xander. Everything is broken beyond repair.” I shook my head and reached for the door. He grabbed my arms and hugged me tightly. “No. I won't give up, Savannah. I won't give you up without putting up a damn fight! Remember, we're still married. You're still my wife.” I laughed bitterly when he said that. I pushed him away and looked him straight in the eyes. “I was never your wife Xander. I am just your substitute bride.”

"You are a Town Guard." "That is not a secret." "Then I do have a case for you," the lady said. "I wish to find my sister." "What is the nature of her disappearance?" If it was a simple disappearance, anyone could directly come into the Grand Guard Hall and file for the case. But with this woman's efforts, it was either a case that would cause a scandal or a petty, foolish one which was getting too rampant nowadays. He had been getting useless cases being presented to him by crying single ladies and their mamas in their poor attempt to get his attentions. Even a Town Guard could not be saved from the desperate single ladies still out in the marriage mart. "She had been banished," came the lady's reply. "I am sorry to tell you that we do not handle banishment cases. No matter how you may feel that your sister has been wronged, the law does not-" "I know of the law. I would not have come here if I knew I would not get your help." Ah, so she was confident he'd help her. McKenzie scratched at the scar across his right brow, a habit when he was getting impatient. "And why would you think I would take a banishment case?" he finally asked. Honestly, if this was another single chit who wished to trick him into marriage, he would throw her out of the house for having wasted his time. She finally pulled her hood off her face to reveal a beautiful lady with flaming red hair. Her cheeks were high and finely formed, her chin pointed and her eyes dark blue. She looked vaguely familiar and he quickly searched his memory for a name. He was quite good at memorizing faces and giving a name to them. Carrington. She was a Carrington. She talked of banishment and if his memory served him right, Belinda Carrington had been banished out of Willowfair five years past. Emmett Carrington had two daughters. This must be the other one. She did not know her name but he soon would. "I am Julia Carrington, now lady Trilby," she said, sparing him the trouble. Her face was too serious, her stand too stiff. He had heard of her recent marriage to the youngest Trilby son. "As I have said, Mr. Haverston, I wish that you find my sister, Belinda. You must know about her for her disappearance had caused a great scandal five years past." "And I have told you, lady Trilby, that a banishment case is not-" "The banishment is not unlawful, Mr. Haverston," she interjected, her blue eyes looking straight at him. "But where she was banished to is," she finished. McKenzie finally allowed a frown. "Where she was banished to?" Julia Carrington-Trilby's face tightened but McKenzie was certain that she was fighting back tears. "She was banished aboveground."

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.

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.

Annette Vasquez is broken and desperate to talk to Ryan, her ex-boyfriend who broke up with her a month ago. When an intimidating man appears on her door dressed in all blacks, she runs for cover and sends Ryan a text for help. Vicente Di Alberto is the Don of the Italian Mafia, cold, ruthless and untouchable. A strange message pops up on his phone which has him acting on impulse. He hates men who hurts women and he is ready to save and protect the woman calling for his help. Rescued by a sinfully handsome man, Ann feels safe around him until she finds out his real identity and also finds herself married accidentally to the most feared man in Italy. She wants out but Vicente is ready to use the accidental marriage to his advantage.

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."

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.

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 our first wedding anniversary, my husband walked out the door. Not for business. For her. I left the divorce papers on the table, my wedding ring next to his untouched champagne, and I disappeared into the night. For a year, I watched Dominic Rossi—the ruthless Underboss of the New York syndicate—drop everything the moment his phone buzzed with another crisis from Sophia. A panic attack. A sleepless night. A lie. I was his wife, the woman he’d promised to cherish, but I was never his priority. So I chose myself. Now he’s tearing the city apart trying to find me. But I’m already gone—building a new life with a job that’s mine, an apartment that’s mine, and a name that doesn’t belong to him. The girl who waited in that penthouse is dead. The woman who walked out isn’t looking back. When Dominic finally corners me, I see the cracks in his armor. He says he’s sorry. He says he loves me. He says he finally understands. But some words are too late, and some promises can’t be fixed. He made me guess for a year. Now it’s his turn to wonder if I’ll ever come back. A heart-wrenching, standalone mafia romance about a woman who refused to be second choice, and the man who learned too late what he’d lost.

I was the devoted wife of Pietro, the untouchable Don of the New York Syndicate. I thought my love could bridge the gap between my civilian life and his brutal underworld. Then, I swiped open his unlocked private tablet. I discovered he had been forwarding my most intimate boudoir photos, desperate texts, and sweet voice notes to a dark web group chat filled with his ruthless soldiers and his female associate, Zoya. They dissected my naked body for amusement. Pietro captioned my lingerie photo, "Like a starving animal," and told his men I was just a "stable cover" with a clean background. When I cried over his safety during a turf war, his Capos joked about my whimpers. Pietro bragged to them that starving me of attention was standard protocol to break me. When I confronted him with the evidence, he didn't apologize. "You are acting bitter and hysterical. A Don doesn't have time for civilian trivialities." He warned me that if I walked out, I would be dead to his world, dismissing my absolute humiliation as mere locker-room talk. My affection for him had been a form of worship, yet my marriage was nothing but a spectator sport for his entire regime. He traded my dignity to feed his god-complex. I didn't cry, and I didn't beg for his love. Instead, I packed my bags, transferred every damning screenshot to a secure drive, and calmly handed the files over to the Syndicate Elders. It was time to burn his empire to the ground.

I married Luca Falcone, the most dangerous Mafia Don in New York, believing our arranged union had blossomed into true love. But exactly five minutes after our vows, he smashed my father's face into the glass wedding table in front of three hundred guests. "Giovanni Rossi is accused of embezzling forty-six million dollars from this Family!" With those words, he sentenced my father to a brutal blood tribunal. I was dragged into a freezing underground cell in my ruined silk wedding dress. His Head of Intelligence threw a surveillance dossier at me, revealing that Luca's twenty months of romance was just a cold, calculated investigation to destroy my family. My mother was left dry-heaving on the marble floor in terror, and my father's heart gave out as he was dragged to the infirmary. I stared at the photos of our dates, the agonizing realization suffocating me. Every morning coffee, every gentle touch, and every whispered promise in the dark was an elaborate lie. He had tracked my every move for nearly two years but never trusted me enough to just ask about the money, choosing the word of a jealous operative over his own wife. So, I wiped my tears and stopped playing the docile bride. I calmly summoned my corporate lawyer and dropped the federal tax records proving I was a secret billionaire CEO. The forty-six million was my own legal money, saved to treat my father's terminal cancer. Ignoring the ruthless Don as he finally dropped to his knees in tears, I left my wedding ring on the divorce papers and walked out.

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."