

Four years of marriage. One signature—his own—that set me free, though he never realized what he was signing. I was Sophia Moretti, the invisible wife of James Moretti, heir to the city’s most powerful mafia family. But when his childhood sweetheart, the dazzling and privileged Vicky, returned, I finally understood: I had always been temporary. So I played my final move. I slid the papers across his desk—divorce disguised as routine university forms. James signed without a second glance, his fountain pen scratching across the page as carelessly as he'd treated our vows, without noticing he was ending our marriage. But I walked away with more than my freedom. Beneath my coat, I carried his unborn heir—a secret that could destroy him when he finally realized what he'd lost. Now, the man who never noticed me is tearing the world apart trying to find me. From his penthouse to the underworld's gutters, he's turning over every stone. But I'm not some trembling prey waiting to be found. I rebuilt myself beyond his reach—where not even a Moretti can follow. This time, I won't be begging for his love. He'll be begging for mine.

Four years of marriage. I was the invisible wife of James Moretti, a Mafia heir. When his beloved Vicky returned, I knew I was just a passerby. I disguised the divorce papers as university documents, and he signed them without a second thought. When I left, I took not only my freedom, but also his unborn child—a secret that could destroy him. Now, the man who never even looked at me is turning the world upside down searching for me. But I have already risen from the ashes, and I am now out of his reach. This time, it is not me begging for his love, but him begging me to come back.

My younger sister and I spent ten years fighting over Rowan Vale, the Alpha of Silver Ridge Pack. In my first life, I became his mate. Everyone said he was obsessed with me. Why else would he keep me carrying litters for seven years and give Silver Ridge six heirs? When I went into labor with the seventh, I nearly bled out. Rowan sent the healers away and forced wolfsbane down my throat himself. Only then did he tell me the truth. If it were not for the fact that only a daughter of the Hart bloodline could bear pureblood Alpha heirs, he said, he never would have claimed me at all. I had been useful for one thing only: giving him heirs. Now that he had enough, I had none. I died hating him. In my second life, I handed the bond papers from Silver Ridge Pack to my sister. “Go,” I told her. “You’re the one he wants.” Five years later, she was sent back to me half-starved, shaking, and marked by restraints. Through sobs, she told me Rowan had never loved her either. He had kept her because she was still a Hart daughter, because she could give him heirs, and because her scent could calm him during rut. She died less than two months later. When I opened my eyes again, I was in my third life. The unsigned bond papers from Silver Ridge Pack lay on the table between us, and my sister and I could only stare at each other. Who, exactly, did that Alpha want?

In her previous life, Maggie Lopez was framed by her boyfriend, Jeffrey Harris, and her stepsister,Chelsea Lopez, and was put in jail. After Maggie got out of jail, her mom had already passed away. Finding out the truth about everything, Mandy chose to kill Chelsea and die with Chelsea and Jeffrey. When Mandy woke up again, she found she was back to the day she was framed for committing murder in her previous life.The next moment, she decided to get into the next room and use him as an alibi.

On the day of my engagement party, my mother and I were sitting in the car waiting for the driver when my fiance's secretary suddenly sent me a video. In it, she had a middle-aged she-wolf by the hair, slapping her across the face again and again. "Selena, you gold-digging trash! Did you really think pretending to be some high-society socialite and getting engaged to Alpha Declan meant your mother could sneak into his house and steal?" Another slap landed. The woman's face was already grotesquely swollen. "Typical backwoods behavior. Always grabbing at things that don't belong to you. As Declan's secretary, I'm handling this filthy thief on his behalf." I slowly lowered my phone. Beside me, my mother was adjusting her necklace in her compact mirror. When she noticed me looking at her, she smiled and patted my hand. "Thorncrown Pack may be an absolute disaster when it comes to business, darling, but Declan is very handsome. Once the alliance is official, your father and I can help straighten things out." Frowning, I replayed the video. The sharp cheekbones. The immaculate chignon. And the mole on her ear. Oh my God. That was my future mother-in-law! I immediately called back. "Vanessa, do you have any idea what a complete idiot you are? That's Declan's mother!" She let out a vicious laugh. "Oh, please. Declan already told me all about you. Some nobody his father forced him to marry. " "He doesn't even care about you, so why would he give a damn about your relatives?"

Irina Petrov may look like a nobody in mechanic overalls, but she is actually the ruthless Mafia Queen who rules New York. She comes to her sister Sasha’s wedding hoping to celebrate her happiness, only to watch Sasha get insulted, used, and betrayed by the groom’s family. They thought they were crushing two helpless sisters. But as the Mafia Queen, how far will Irina go to make them pay?

I’m the best art forger and intel specialist in Chicago. And I fell for the man who owned it all, Don Vincenzo Russo. For ten years, I was his secret, his weapon, and his woman. I built his empire from the shadows. I thought I’d get a ring. After all, every night he was in this city, he was buried inside me, taking his pleasure. He’d whisper that I was his, that no one else felt this good. But this time, after he was finished with me, he announced he was marrying the Russian Bratva princess, Katerina Petrov. That’s when I knew. I wasn’t his woman. I was just a body. For an alliance, for her, he sacrificed me. He left me to die. So I destroyed every piece of the life he gave me. I made one call to my father in Italy. And then, I vanished. But when the Don who owned Chicago couldn't find his favorite toy… he went insane.

Morrison, a former top CIA operative, lives under an assumed name after suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, leading a quiet farming life in a small town with his daughter Vivian. The local criminal syndicate, the Rosetti family, covets his farmland. To force Morrison into submission, Theodore, the family's young heir, kidnaps the 17-year-old Vivian and tortures her to death brutally. Having lost his sole emotional anchor, Morrison casts aside his medication restraints entirely, unearths the stockpile of weapons he has hidden away for a decade, and storms the Rosetti manor alone to exact revenge. Senior figures within the city's police force, municipal government and the CIA are all well aware of Morrison's terrifying combat prowess from his past. They order an emergency city-wide evacuation and stand aside to let him wipe out the entire criminal family, kicking off a brutal vendetta of blood for blood. Revolving around paternal love, trauma, corrupt power networks and unbridled vengeance, the story interweaves the lingering shadows of past killings with the mutual despair and devastation of the present, unfolding an unstoppable bloody reckoning.

Ethan mistakenly believed that Scarlett's father had killed his own father, leading him to confine Scarlett in a mental hospital, where she endured torment for two years. Later, Ethan, in an effort to thwart his stepmother Evelyn's scheme, chose to enter into a fake marriage with Scarlett, with a three-month deadline. However, just as Ethan and Scarlett received their marriage license, Ethan discovered the mysterious woman he had slept with, Sophia.

I married Don Matteo in secret. Every time he fucked his childhood sweetheart, he promised me a real wedding,in front of the Five Families. For five years, Matteo promised me ninety-nine times. And ninety-nine times, he left me at the altar. The first time, Cecilia’s prize-winning show cat died. To comfort her, he postponed the wedding for three months. I stood at the altar alone, eyes red, trying to calm down the family elders. The second time, Cecilia threw a tantrum at a casino and shattered a hundred-million-dollar antique vase. He diverted the private jet meant for their wedding and rushed through the night to clean up her mess. And every time, right before our wedding, his childhood sweetheart would have some kind of emergency. I cried. I screamed. I even held a gun to his head. But Matteo would just pin me against the wall and shut me up with a cold, hard kiss. “She’s just a fuck. You are Mrs. Falcone. Have some goddamn class.” After the ninety-ninth time, I was finally done. I slid the papers across the table. The ink was still wet, the Falcone family seal stamped at the bottom. “Our marriage, our alliance—it’s over.”