Uche Lawrence

Irina Volkov has three rules: no emotions, no real names, and never meet in person. For two years she has survived on those rules alone - running romance scams on wealthy men, funneling every stolen dollar toward the crushing debt her abusive stepfather signed in her name before she escaped. She is not greedy. She is desperate. And she is very, very good. Until she targets Nikolai Dragunov. What Irina doesn't know is that Nikolai has known about her from the beginning. He created the perfect bait - a lonely businessman with money to burn - and waited for her to find him. Because in a world Nikolai controls down to the last detail, Irina Volkov is the only unpredictable thing left. He wanted to see how far she would go. Now the game is over. The con is exposed. And Nikolai isn't asking for his money back. He's keeping her. Trapped in his penthouse with nowhere to run and a Bratva boss who looks at her like she's both a puzzle and a prize, Irina has to survive the most dangerous mark she's ever made - and somehow stop herself from falling for him in the process. She's a liar. He's a monster. And neither of them expected to fall. "You took my money, malyshka. Now you belong to me."

Camila Damien has spent years avoiding Eric Sylvester-the ruthless CEO whose cold reputation precedes him. But when a career-making promotion forces them together on a billion-dollar pharmaceutical project, avoidance becomes impossible. Eric can't shake the feeling that he's seen her before. The mysterious woman in his wallpaper. The missing pieces of a night he can't remember. And now, the brilliant scientist who challenges him at every turn. But Camila is hiding something darker than career ambitions. Three weeks of her life is gone. Stolen by a drugging incident she can't remember and a saboteur she can't identify. As corporate espionage, toxic family ties, and a dangerous conspiracy close in around them, Camila and Eric must decide: trust each other with their carefully guarded hearts, or lose everything, including their lives. In the high-stakes world of pharmaceutical giants, where betrayal comes from those closest to you and the truth is buried in forgotten memories, love might be the most dangerous risk of all.

How do you feel when you got deceived by your best friend. Just to get you raped. Your male best friend. You got deceived, your best friend whom you trust so much tricked to a birthday party. Suddenly, he started acting cold and you're wondering why he's like that. Everyone gathered around you, smiling like devils. Your best friend pushed you to the floor, tore your dress and had his way. He raped you. Not listening to your cries, your pleas. How wicked he is. Everyone watched. Every f*cking one. You felt ashamed right? When they say bad things to you. Your best friend called you a whore, saying he never loved you as a friend but was just lusting after your body. He laughed at you, everyone mocked you. Even for being raped. What a pity! You can't do anything other than to stand up shamefully, embarrassedly and painfully walked out of the party. It gonna take long before overcoming that trauma. You tried to forget it. Traveled out of the country to begin a new life. Filled with hope. You don't wanna trust anyone again. Especially men. You became happy at last but the happiness didn't last when you finally found out that you're pregnant for the bastard. You never wished for that right? No one do too. But you got no choice dear. Abortion is risky. Nine months later, it's like heaven didn't smile on you when you gave birth to a set of twins. You laboured hard to take good care of them. And also, you're always shouting here and there because of your troublesome kids. Five years later, you saw the bastard again. That day, with your kids. Surprisingly, he told you, he never had peace since day he raped you. He wants your forgiveness. Haha! The question is, are you? Are you gonna forgive him? Think about what you went through. Will you? It's hard for some and easy for some. It's your choice. He's also trying to take responsibilities. He's trying to gain your trust again. Okay, let me stop here. Am Kira Michael. This is my story. It begins, right here.

Kimberly White got a job in one of the biggest company in Germany after she ran away from her stepfather and stepbrother who made life miserable for her. She was to be the secretary of a strange CEO who left his seat vacant for almost a year and half. When the staffs have a problem, they take it to his mansion to sort it out. Some of the new staffs haven't seen his face before. Damien Anton is the CEO of the company, no one knows why he decided not to come to his company. But at last, he came back looking more cold and inhuman all of a sudden. He needed a new secretary and eventually employed Kimberly because he met her few hours to her interview. It was a very bad meeting. Damien made life difficult for her but Kimberly being a no-nonsense girl would sometimes talk to him back not caring about loosing her job. Kimberly knew something was wrong when she found out Damien many weakness. Darkness has been surrounding him. She decided to find out what happened to him and will do her very best to bring him out of darkness? Will she succeed?

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.

Camille Laurent was stolen at birth. Swapped by a greedy nanny, abandoned without a second thought, and erased from her rightful place in one of the most powerful families in the country. While the real heiress struggled to survive, the nanny's daughter, Talia, was raised in luxury as the beloved jewel of the Laurent family, pampered by Camille's parents, adored by her three brothers, and even promised to the prestigious Matteo Devereux through a childhood engagement arranged by their grandparents. Then the truth came out. Six months ago, Camille was finally brought back to the Laurent family. To protect the family reputation and prove their devotion to their bloodline, the Laurent patriarch transferred 35% of his personal shares into Camille's name overnight, instantly making her one of the wealthiest heiresses in the country. It brought anxiety to all the Laurent family. But what they don't know.is that Camille never needed them. Behind her elegant smile lies a woman filled with secrets powerful enough to shake the whole family. She's a miraculous healer capable of curing the incurable poisons. Yet despite everything, her family still chooses Talia. Every accusation against Talia is forgiven. Every scheme against Camille is brushed aside. Even Matteo, the man who was supposed to be Camille's fiancé-cannot let go of the woman he always believed belonged by his side. But while the Laurent family underestimates Camille, another man begins to see exactly who she is. Dante Moretti. The ruthless heir of an old-money dynasty. A billionaire CEO worshipped by the public.and the merciless king of a criminal empire hidden beneath the city's glittering surface. When Dante is poisoned by a rival syndicate with a deadly toxin no doctor can cure, he offers a fortune for anyone who can save him. Only Camille can. Their deal is simple: she becomes his personal physician, and he gives her anything she wants.

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.

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.

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.

For sixteen years, I was the naive, pliant wife to Dante Moretti, a ruthless Mafia Capo. I funded his empire with my hidden family wealth. I endured his affairs. His family treated me like a fool in silk. But at his mother's sixtieth birthday gala, Dante threw an annulment decree at my feet—standing beside his new mistress, a rival mafia princess. His mother wore my late mother's stolen diamonds around her neck. He declared I was too weak to be a Capo's wife, and if I tried to take my daughter, his guards would carry me out in a body bag. The entire Syndicate watched. Every Capo. Every soldier. They were waiting for the soft, useless wife to fall to her knees and beg. They thought I only knew how to pick out silk curtains. They didn't know my family's blood money was the only thing keeping their empire from bleeding out. I didn't cry. I smiled. Picked up the annulment papers. Turned my back to the crowd. And signaled the soldiers I had embedded in his guard for years. "Begin the audit. Strip them bare."