After losing my memory, I divorced Don
I woke up to find that I had lost five years of my memory.
I was told that I had been married to Caspian, the ruthless Godfather of the New York Mafia, for five years.
I had harbored a crush on him for a long time, so marrying him should have been good news.
But the terrible truth was, he didn't seem to love me.
After losing my five years of memory, he felt like nothing more than a stranger to me.
"Break the blood oath, Caspian," I said. "We're getting a divorce."
Yet later, he would pace outside my door late at night, refusing to leave: "Darling, just look at me one more time, please?"
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Chapter 3
The syndicate gala was held at a sprawling estate, a grand affair where the air was thick with the scent of expensive cigars.
I walked in with my arm linked through Caspian's.
The moment we stepped into the VIP lounge, the whispers rolled in like a tide.
Capos and their underlings stood in small clusters, their gazes sweeping over me with thinly veiled contempt.
"Look at her, the fragile outsider." A voice drifted from a corner.
"She probably threatened to jump off a roof to force him to bring her tonight."
Caspian ignored the muttered insults, leading me toward the inner circle seating.
He walked straight to the center of a deep blue velvet sofa and sat down.
Elena was already there, settling in on his right side, a crystal champagne flute held casually in her hand.
There was no seat left for me.
I stood in front of the low coffee table, watching Elena's loyal sycophants sneer at each other.
A high-ranking soldier leaned back and, with clear intent, blew a thick cloud of smoke in my direction.
"You look tired, Sienna. Maybe the mafia life is too tough for a civilian."
In the past, I would have silently begged Caspian to protect me.
Tonight, I looked the soldier dead in the eye.
"And you look like a man overcompensating for his lack of power by insulting women," I replied calmly.
"Does your Boss know you sit around gossiping all day like a bored housewife?"
The soldier's face darkened with rage, turning a purplish red.
The lounge fell dead silent.
Caspian gripped the armrest of the sofa, his knuckles turning white.
"Drop it, Sienna," he warned in a low voice.
I let out a short, dry laugh.
I turned my back on the most dangerous men in New York.
"I'll leave you to your real family, Don Caspian."
I walked out of the lounge, ignoring the renewed whispers of men predicting I'd come crawling back in tears.
I needed fresh air.
I wandered through the estate's manicured gardens until I found the magnificent swimming pool, its water glowing with a deep, artificial blue beneath the night sky.
The sharp click of heels against stone sounded behind me.
Elena stepped out of the shadows, her fake sweetness instantly gone.
"You're pathetic, Sienna," she sneered in a low voice.
"You think a few sharp words will change anything? You have no power here."
I turned to face her, a wave of exhaustion washing over me.
"Then why don't you make him break his oath? Make him divorce me and take him. I don't want him."
Elena aggressively invaded my personal space, her eyes flashing. "This family belongs to my bloodline. You are a stain on his reign."
"Let's see how much he really cares about you."
"I don't want to see—" Before I could react, her hands slammed hard against my chest.
She shoved me backward.
My heels slipped on the wet stone edge.
I crashed heavily into the water, the freezing cold rushing instantly into my nose and mouth.
The water burned my bandaged wrists, a searing pain tearing through the deep, unhealed wounds. The newly stitched veins groaned in agony from the irritation, and the gauze was instantly soaked with fresh blood.
I couldn't swim!
Panic gripped my chest as I thrashed beneath the surface.
My heavy, waterlogged gown dragged me down into the deep end like a stone.
Through the distorted, churning surface of the water, I saw figures rushing toward the edge.
Then I saw Caspian dive in.
But as I sank toward the bottom of the pool, I watched his dark silhouette slice through the water.
He swam right past me.
He reached for Elena—who had jumped in to play the victim and cover her tracks—and pulled her toward the surface.
A sharp pang of pain pierced my heart.
The very last shred of love I had for him drowned in that suffocating water.
Another pair of arms grabbed me from behind, hauling me upward with all their might.
I broke the surface, gasping for air, coughing violently as I spat pool water onto the rough flagstones.
My savior was a man I didn't recognize. He knelt beside me, his hands on my trembling shoulders to steady me.
A moment later, Caspian walked over, water dripping steadily from his ruined, expensive suit.
"Are you hurt?" he asked with a frown, his tone flat.
A cold, crystal-clear fury flooded my exhausted muscles.
I stumbled to my feet, soaking wet and shivering.
I didn't lunge at him or cry about my grievances.
Instead, using every last ounce of my remaining strength, I raised my arm and swung.
My palm struck the Don's face hard, the sharp crack echoing over the water.
The deadliest men in the syndicate gasped in shock, the sound of weapons being drawn from holsters slicing through the air around the pool.
Caspian didn't move. He took the blow head-on, his head turning slightly from the impact, before raising a hand to halt his guards.
"I want a divorce," I said, my voice trembling with rage.
"Consider that slap my parting gift."
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7.1
After five years in a federal prison, framed by my stepmother and fiancé, I was finally released.
Instead of a welcome home, my stepmother tossed me a one-way ticket to Geneva and a threat: renounce the family name and disappear, or end up in the Hudson River.
When our limo was suddenly ambushed by military-grade SUVs on the highway, their cowardice almost got us killed.
I took the wheel, crashed the attackers, and saved their lives.
But the moment the danger passed, my stepmother tried to slap me, called me a psycho, and abandoned me on the desolate roadside.
My ex-fiancé later cornered me in public, trying to assert his dominance by grabbing my arm.
They still thought I was the broken girl they sent to a cage just so they could steal my dead mother's biochemical research.
I didn't feel heartbreak, only a cold, absolute certainty.
They threw me to the wolves, not realizing the federal penitentiary had burned away my capacity for mercy.
I hacked into the dark web and found out Dante Meltoni, the most dangerous Mafia Don in New York, was tearing the city apart to find a legendary underground doctor.
I am that doctor.
I walked straight into his heavily guarded fortress, pulled out a syringe, and saved his dying grandfather.
Then I looked the terrifying Don right in the eye.
"Marry me. And let me use your empire to wipe my family off the map."
9.5
"My father sold me to a sixty-year-old monster to clear his gambling debts. So, I made a desperate gamble of my own."
Seventeen-year-old Isabella Rossi has two choices: become the broken plaything of a sadistic mafia Capo, or do the unthinkable. She chooses the latter. Sneaking into a high-end speakeasy, she slips an aphrodisiac into the whiskey of the deadliest man in New York—Damien Falcone, the ruthless Underboss of the Falcone family.
Her plan was simple: steal his seed, secure his protection, and run.
But you don’t drug a predator and expect to walk away.
When Damien wakes up, he doesn’t kill her. Instead, he claims her.
"You intercepted a delivery meant for my enemy. Turns out, it was you. Now, you are my Collateral."
8.0
After fifteen years of marriage and a brutal battle with infertility, I finally saw two pink lines on a pregnancy test. This baby was my victory, the heir that would finally secure my place as the wife of mob capo Marco Vitiello. I planned to announce it at his mother's party, a triumph over the matriarch who saw me as nothing but a barren field.
But before I could celebrate, my friend sent me a video. The headline read: "MOB CAPO MARCO VITIELLO'S PASSIONATE NIGHTCLUB KISS!" It was him, my husband, devouring a woman who looked like a younger, fresher version of me.
Hours later, Marco stumbled home, drunk and reeking of another woman's perfume. He complained about his mother begging him for an heir, completely unaware of the secret I held. Then my phone lit up with a text from an unknown number.
"Your husband slept with my girl. We need to talk."
It was signed by Dante Moretti, the ruthless Don of our rival family.
The meeting with Dante was a nightmare. He showed me another video. This time, I heard my husband's voice, telling the other woman, "I love you. Elara... that's just business." My fifteen years of loyalty, of building his empire, of taking a bullet for him-all dismissed as "just business."
Dante didn't just reveal the affair; he showed me proof that Marco was already stealing our shared assets to build a new life with his mistress. Then, he made me an offer.
"Divorce him," he said, his eyes cold and calculating. "Join me. We'll build an empire together and destroy him."
8.1
I died once. Betrayed, broken, and discarded by the most powerful man in New York.
Now, I'm back. Reborn on the very day my husband, Dante Moretti, handed me an expulsion agreement. But this time, I know his secret. The coldness in his eyes isn't cruelty; it's a slow-acting poison, a betrayal creeping through his veins, fed to him by those closest to him.
This time, I don't cower. I meet his icy command with a slap and an ultimatum: I carry his heir. To cast me out is to sentence his own bloodline to death.
He is the untouchable Don, a king on a poisoned throne, fighting a war within his own mind. I am the ghost of the queen he tried to break, armed with the memories of our enemies' every move.
I won't be a pawn in their game again. I will dismantle them all, from my treacherous sister to the viper he calls a mother. I will be the queen he needs, even if he fights me every step of the way.
It's a vendetta.
9.6
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."
8.6
She entered his world as prey. Now, she's learning to bite back.
After her mother's death, Annabelle Gracia seeks fragile solace in the flower shop-until her father trades her to Antonioni D'Angélo, the ruthless mafia billionaire known as The Shadow King. Nights with him burn with pain, pleasure, and control. His coldness shields a heart hunted by a dangerous fraternity, one that will not forgive tenderness-love is a risk he cannot afford. Yet desire refuses to be silenced. In their world, love is weakness, and weakness could destroy them both.
Antonioni is not just another mafia heir; he is a force who commands the world's shadows. Beyond the empire most will never see: high-stakes deals in European marketplaces, clandestine arms trades, and the quiet power of a man who moves money, influence, and danger across continents.
Once fragile, she rises. No longer a pawn, she becomes his fiercest ally and mafia queen, his quiet hope. But betrayal is never far, and enemies wait in the shadows. When Nora, the daughter of one of their deadliest rivals, enters their world, alliances shatter, and danger multiplies.
In a world ruled by secrets and scars, can love save them... or destroy them?