Ronald Spence

Sofia DeLuca has spent her life running from her family's dark legacy, determined to carve out a life of her own. But when her estranged father, a notorious mafia don, is murdered, Sofia is pulled back into the criminal underworld she tried to escape. Standing in her way is Luca Romano, her father's ruthless right-hand man and heir to the empire. As Sofia and Luca work together to uncover the truth behind her father's death, a forbidden romance ignites between them.

Vanessa's world shatters when her perfect life is upended by her stepsister, Delilah, who cunningly steals away the love of her life, Lucas. Once close, Vanessa now finds herself on the receiving end of betrayal, her engagement shattered, and her trust broken. Determined to reclaim everything she's lost, Vanessa embarks on a path of calculated revenge, using Delilah's own secrets against her. But as the intricate web of lies unravels, Vanessa discovers that revenge may not bring the closure she seeks-only a chance to heal and find true strength within herself.

A prophecy long buried in Lycan lore speaks of a child born of two rival bloodlines-a child destined to unite the fractured packs but cursed to overthrow the reigning king. Seren Duskbane, a fearless rogue, never imagined her path would cross with Lucian Veylor, the brooding and enigmatic Lycan King. When a fateful encounter binds them in a forbidden union, Seren discovers she carries the heir that could change the fate of their kind. As whispers of the prophecy spread, they face enemies from within and beyond their packs-forces that see the child as either salvation or destruction. With time running out and danger closing in, Seren and Lucian must navigate treacherous alliances, unearth ancient secrets, and confront the prophecy's devastating truth.

Selena Kaelvar is the last surviving member of the Kaelvar Pride. After witnessing the cold-blooded slaughter of her family by the ruthless Crescent Moon Pack, she becomes consumed by a singular purpose: revenge. Her opportunity comes when she discovers her uncanny resemblance to Liana Morven, the Crescent Moon Alpha's beloved Luna. Selena kidnaps Liana, hiding her far from her mate, and assumes her identity to infiltrate the pack from within. Darius Raelith, the Alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack, is burdened with the legacy of his father's cruel reign. Determined to lead his pack with honor, Darius strives to mend the wounds of the past. But his efforts are undermined by a "Luna" who seems to be playing her own dangerous game. Selena walks a treacherous path of deception and vengeance, long-buried secrets surface, and the stakes grow higher. What will happen when Selena and Darius confront the truths that tie their fates together? Can redemption be found amid betrayal, or will revenge plunge them both into darkness?

When Seraphina, a young woman with dormant werewolf traits, is mistreated by her pack and ultimately rejected by her Alpha mate, she is forced into a life of solitude as a rogue. Her world is turned upside down when her dormant powers are awakened, revealing her true nature as a powerful Alpha and the dangers that come with it. Seeking to understand her new identity, Seraphina turns to the Lycan King, Kael, who becomes her mentor and guide. Together, they face the threats from her past that rise along with her newfound abilities. But when her former Alpha, Thorne, who once rejected her, returns, pleading for her forgiveness and help, Seraphina is faced with an agonizing choice: should she listen to his plea to take her back, or trust Kael, the one who helped her unlock the great power within her? With her destiny as Alpha hanging in the balance, Seraphina must decide how to wield her powers and confront the looming dangers that threaten her. Will she embrace the future that's calling, or be undone by the past that haunts her?

Hunted by fate and bound by a curse, Selene Draven lives in hiding, avoiding the truth of her identity as the last heir to the Duskwind Pack. When her quiet life is disrupted by Alaric Veylor, the fierce alpha of the Ebonridge Pack, her world is upended. Alaric, seeking vengeance for his brother's mysterious death, captures Selene, believing she holds the answers to the curse plaguing his pack. But as their fates entwine, an undeniable bond forms, challenging everything they know about loyalty, love, and destiny. As ancient forces awaken and secrets unravel, Alaric and Selene must face a choice: break the curse and risk losing each other, or let love conquer the darkness threatening to consume their packs.

For Claire Evans, love has always been a secondhand emotion. After a string of heartbreaks, she's convinced herself that forever isn't in the cards. Instead, she pours her energy into her thriving career as an interior designer. But when her latest project brings her back to her small hometown, she's forced to confront the one man who shattered her heart and the walls she built around it- Ethan Carter. Ethan has spent the past decade regretting the one decision that drove Claire away. Now the owner of a struggling vineyard, he's desperate to save his family's legacy. When Claire steps back into his life as the designer hired to transform the vineyard into a wedding venue, he sees it as a second chance to prove that love is worth the risk. As the days unfold in a whirlwind of late-night confessions, rekindled laughter, and lingering glances, Claire must decide if she's ready to give Ethan- and herself- a chance at the kind of love she thought only existed in fairytales.

When Lady Isolde, the spirited daughter of an English nobleman, is sent to the rugged Scottish Highlands as part of a political alliance, she expects nothing but hardship. Tasked with marrying the feared Highland clan leader, Lachlan MacRae, she is determined to resist her fate. Lachlan, a man of honor and deep scars, is bound by duty to his people and his clan. But the fiery Isolde challenges everything he believes in. As enemies from both sides of the border plot against the Highlands, Isolde and Lachlan are thrust into a battle that could change the course of history-and ignite a forbidden love neither can deny. Can love heal the wounds of war, or will their differences tear them apart forever?

Celeste Ashcroft never expected to inherit the Ashcroft Dynasty-a sprawling global empire of luxury and power-until her father, the legendary magnate Harrison Ashcroft, is found murdered under mysterious circumstances. As she steps into the cutthroat corporate world, Celeste uncovers shocking truths about her father's dealings, the betrayal of trusted allies, and enemies hidden within her own family. With the enigmatic and dangerously alluring Dominic Vale by her side, Celeste must navigate a web of deception and ambition. To claim her throne, she must outwit those who seek to destroy her and transform from a grieving daughter into a ruler who commands respect-and fear.

In a world ruled by wolves, Asha never expected to be anything more than an ordinary woman. But when her family's dark past catches up with her, she is thrust into a conflict that could tear her apart. Declan, a brooding Alpha with a ruthless reputation, claims Asha as his mate, bound by a forbidden claim that no one saw coming. As the war between packs escalates and old enemies emerge, Asha must navigate her new life in the wilds of the wolf world, where loyalty, love, and blood ties are tested like never before. But with a dangerous prophecy looming, Asha might be the only one who can prevent the destruction of everything she holds dear.

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 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."

Three days before the wedding. I was hiding in the dressing room, watching my fiancé caress the swollen belly of another woman. Luca, the man who had saved my life five years ago, was smiling at his mistress, Sofia. But the real knife to the heart wasn't the affair—it was the dress. The custom wedding gown he had "lovingly" ordered for me featured intricate silver embroidery along the hem. It didn't spell Elena. It read Sofia. He was planning to make me walk down the aisle wearing his mistress's name. Later that night, I found a video of him mocking me to his crew, calling me a "dead fish" and admitting he only wanted my family's Capo status. He planned to keep his "true love" on the side while I played the role of the oblivious, ornamental wife. He thought I was just a sheltered princess. He forgot that my bloodline was built on vengeance. I didn't cry. I didn't confront him. Instead, I scrubbed his scent off my skin and dialed a number everyone in Chicago feared. "The pact with the Cavallaro family," I asked my father, my voice cold as stone. "Is it still valid?" "Dante is the Underboss now," my father warned. "He is a butcher. He breaks men for sport." "Good," I replied. "I am done playing with boys." I secretly booked the Gold Ballroom across the hall from my original venue. Luca thought he was walking into a marriage on Saturday. He didn't know I was bringing a monster to the altar instead.

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.

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.

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.

The day my husband, a Mafia Underboss, told me I was genetically unfit to carry his heir, he brought home my replacement—a surrogate with my eyes and a working womb. He called her a "vessel" but paraded her as his mistress, abandoning me while I bled on the floor at a party to protect her and planning their secret future in the villa he once promised me. But in our world, wives don't just walk away—they disappear, and I decided to orchestrate my own vanishing act, leaving him to the ruin he so carefully built for himself.

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.

He chuckled at her desperate attempt to make the lie believable. "Pretty little liar, your face betrays a lot, sadly" he placed his hand on her cheeks, his face dark "you can't run from me, Maya; no matter how hard you try to, I'll always find you. Even in the deepest part of hell, And when I find you, you get punished according to how long you were away from me, understand?" His tone was so soft and gentle it could have fooled anybody but not her. She could see through him, and She trembled under his touch. "Y-yes, maestro" **** Though her sister commits the crime, Maya Alfredo is turned in by her parents to be punished by the Ruthless Don Damon Xavier for selling information about the Costa Nostra to the police. Her world is overturned and shattered; she is taken to the Don's Manor, where she is owned by him and treated like his plaything, meanwhile knowing his intentions to destroy her. But then things get dark in the Don's Manor, with the presence of Derinem Xavier. Maya doesn't stand a chance in Damon's furnace. Will he destroy her and everything she loves for the sins he thinks she committed? Or does luck have other plans for her? Note- This is a dark romance. Not all lovey-dovey. ML is a psychopath. Trigger warnings!!!

For five years, I lived a beautiful lie. I was Aliana Hughes, the cherished wife of the city's most feared Mafia Capo and the beloved daughter of the Don. I believed my arranged marriage had blossomed into love. On my birthday, my husband promised me the amusement park. Instead, I found him there with his other family, celebrating the fifth birthday of the son I never knew he had. I overheard their plan. My husband called me a "naive fool," a placeholder to legitimize his secret son. The ultimate betrayal wasn't his affair, but the sight of my own father's car parked across the street. My family wasn't just aware; they were the architects of my ruin. Back home, I found the proof: a secret photo album of my husband's other family posing with my parents, and records showing my father had bankrolled the entire deception. They had even drugged me on weekends so he could play happy family. The grief didn't break me. It turned into something cold and sharp. I was a ghost in a life that was never mine, and a ghost has nothing to lose. I copied every damning file onto a USB drive. As they celebrated their perfect day, I sent a courier with my parting gift: a recording of their treachery. While their world burned, I walked toward the airport, ready to erase myself and start over.