Divorced And Crowned By The Dangerous Kings
Evelyn Rowe never thought she could survive Victor Blackthorn nor his fists, especially since her unborn baby didn't.
But what she didn't expect was to be saved by Dominic Russo, after being publicly blamed for her miscarriage and humiliated in front of the world.
Finally finding the strength to divorce Victor, and the path to become the independent woman she always wanted to be, Evelyn becomes unstoppable.
What no one expects is for three dangerous men to claim her: the heir apparent to the British throne, the billionaire who rules the corporate world, and a mafia lord who bows to no one.
They were enemies at first, but for her, they became lovers.
And when her ex-husband finally realizes what he destroyed, she already belongs to kings who would do everything in their power to keep her.
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Chapter 2
Dominic Russo.
"Call Doctor Matt," I barked at my consigliere, Marco, as I carried the fragile brunette in my arms and rushed toward the waiting car.
Blood stained the bottom part of her dress, and the sight of it sent a sharp twist through my chest.
I had seen a lot of scumbags in my lifetime, but Victor Blackthorn took the fucking cake.
I had watched him humiliate her on that stage like she was nothing more than a disposable object. And then she had collapsed right in front of him, and he hadn't even flinched.
"Where are you taking her to?" Marco asked as he slid into the back seat with me, his phone already pressed to his ear.
"To my house," I said without hesitation.
Luca was already behind the wheel, and he drove off immediately.
I turned my attention back to the woman in my arms. Her breathing was shallow, but at least she was still breathing.
I adjusted my hold on her, so that her head rested against my shoulder.
"Doctor Matt is on his way," Marco said after ending the call. "He'll be waiting."
Good. I was so occupied with my thoughts that I didn't even hear his conversation with the doctor.
I didn't know what caused her to bleed. I could only hope it was menstruation and not internal bleeding.
But does menstruation cause this much blood?
Doctor Matt and two nurses were already waiting as we piled into my estate minutes later.
"Bring her here," Matt ordered the second he saw the blood.
I followed him inside, my boots pounding against the marble floor as I carried her toward one of the guest rooms.
"Lay her on the bed," he instructed sharply.
I did, stepping back only when one of the nurses gently nudged me aside. They quickly started checking her vitals.
"Give us some space," Matt said suddenly, when he realized I was still in the room. "I'll call you when she's stable."
I clenched my jaw and stepped back, just as the door shut in my face. Dragging my hand down my face, I turned and went into the living room.
I didn't know why I was worried about her this much.
I dropped onto the couch, resting my elbows on my knees as I stared at the floor.
I didn't even know her name. I didn't know anything about her. And yet, the image of her collapsing on that stage wouldn't leave my mind.
"You know I could have stayed back to scout for you," Marco said as he handed me a glass of whiskey.
I took it but didn't drink.
"There was no need," I replied. "We already saw that our target wasn't there."
He scoffed. "But he sent a representative. We could have waited to see what he was planning."
"No," I said, sharper this time. "Postpone the meeting with Jon Denver and oversee the club activities tonight."
Marco frowned. "You're not coming?"
"No."
I slammed my glass on the table and the liquid spilled a little.
Refusing to acknowledge my temper, I stood and headed upstairs, peeling off my jacket as I went.
I took a quick shower to wash off the blood and as soon as I got out, I collapsed face-first onto the bed.
Still, my mind went back to her. The disbelief on her face when Blackthorn started talking. The way her eyes finally turned hollow, like she was used to it. And then, the tears.
I hadn't even been invited to that damn banquet. It wasn't my scene. But on my way to Deranged Desires, my club, I saw the lights and heard the celebrations.
When Marco told me it was the Blackthorn Annual Banquet, I had felt the familiar urge to crash it and see if Liam Kingsley would be there. The bastard was my archenemy for a reason.
But he wasn't there, deciding to send a representative instead. I was already leaving, but then I heard Blackthorn's derogatory speech and knew I needed to do something.
Even now, I suspected that he had something to do with his wife bleeding out. But I guess I would have to wait for the doctor to come back with news.
Several minutes later, when I was almost dozing off, a knock sounded at my door.
"She's stable now, Don," the doctor informed me. I was on my feet instantly, making my way outside.
"What's wrong with her?" I asked as we walked.
He sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "It's really bad."
My hands curled into fists at my sides.
"She had an incomplete miscarriage," he continued. "And her blood sugar is dangerously low. She's lost a lot of blood and even though I've slowed the bleeding for now, she needs to go to a hospital."
The words hit hard. Miscarriage?
I exhaled slowly. "Can I see her? Is she awake?"
"Not yet," he said. "But you can go in."
I turned toward the guest room.
"Don," he called, stopping me in my tracks.
"Based on the injuries on her body," he said carefully, "I don't believe this was natural."
I turned back to him slowly. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying she was physically assaulted."
Something inside me snapped. The image of Blackthorn's smile, his cruel jokes, and his smug little laugh flashed through my mind.
My first thought was simple and terrifying. "I'm going to kill Victor Blackthorn."
But first, I had to get his wife to a hospital.
***
As we drove to the hospital, she lay across the back seat, hooked up to an IV with one of the nurses monitoring her. I sat with her and watched her face the entire time.
She was pale with long dark lashes against her cheeks. There was a faint bruise around her eyes that I hadn't noticed before, which fueled my anger.
At the hospital, they rushed her in immediately, nurses and doctors surrounding the gurney.
"Family?" one of them asked.
I didn't hesitate. "Yes."
They disappeared through the doors and left me alone in the hallway.
I paced back and forth, my body too tense to sit. That was when my phone rang, and I answered as soon as I saw it was Marco.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"The club is on fire," he replied after a short pause.
I scoffed, "I'm currently in the hospital, Marco. And honestly, I don't have time for jokes."
"Don, this isn't a joke. Deranged Desires is on fire."
The words didn't register at first. And when they did, I let out a bitter laugh.
"I'm on my way. And when I get there, you better have the bastards responsible lined up for me."
The call ended.
I stared at my phone for a second before throwing it against the wall. It shattered on impact, but that wasn't enough.
I dragged a hand through my hair, chest rising and falling, trying my best not to yell in anger.
I had two suspects already. And if either of them were behind this, I would make sure they begged like dogs before they died.
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9.4
Six years ago, Breanna was shoved into a pitch-black hotel suite by her own uncle.
She was forced to endure a brutal night with a drugged stranger just to keep her grandmother's ventilator running.
Nine months later, she gave birth in a cold underground clinic.
But her uncle immediately snatched the crying newborn from her trembling hands, coldly announcing the baby had died.
For six years, Breanna lived in agonizing grief, working as a lowly hotel cleaner just to survive.
But a cruel setup threw her directly into the path of Elliot Finch, the arrogant billionaire from that dark night.
He did not recognize the woman whose life he had completely ruined.
Instead, he looked at her like she was rotting garbage, had his guards drag her into a wet alley, and mercilessly got her fired.
"If I ever see your face again, I will make sure you cannot get a job cleaning toilets."
Breanna was suffocating from the injustice, stripped of her dignity and her family's only lifeline.
Yet, when she instinctively protected a traumatized little boy from bullies, she discovered he was Elliot's son.
The boy clung to her neck, crying and desperately begging his father to let her stay.
But Elliot just threw a massive check at her chest, violently accusing her of brainwashing a sick child for a meal ticket.
Looking at the toxic disgust in his eyes, something inside Breanna finally broke.
She picked up the check, ripped the millions into tiny shreds, and let them rain down on his expensive shoes.
"Keep your dirty money."
She turned her back on the crying boy and the stunned billionaire, deciding she would no longer be their victim.
9.3
She was never supposed to be the bride.
Lila Hart has always lived in her older sister's shadow, Evelyn, the perfect daughter, the favorite, the one chosen to marry Adrian Blackwell, the cold, powerful billionaire heir who controls half of Manhattan. But forty-eight hours before the wedding, Evelyn disappears. No explanation, No goodbye. Just a single warning: "Don't let him find out what I did."
Now the Hart family is about to lose everything, their reputation, their company, their future, unless Lila steps into the role her sister abandoned.
So Lila becomes the replacement bride
A marriage born out of duty for her... and pure anger for him.
Adrian doesn't want a wife, He wants answers. And he's certain Lila knows more about Evelyn's disappearance than she claims. They swear they'll keep their distance, No love,No trust, Just a contract neither of them asked for.
But the night of the wedding, a violent warning arrives, proving Evelyn didn't run away, She was taken. And whoever has her... wants Lila next.
Now Lila is trapped in a marriage built on secrets, hunted by enemies she can't see, and falling for a man she was never supposed to love.
Because the most dangerous place for her... might be right beside her husband.
9.2
Lainey spent her last life destroying herself for Larry, only to become the woman he discarded most cruelly. He never loved her, never wanted her, and made no secret that his first love still owned his heart.
On their wedding day, he abandoned Lainey at the altar for that woman, then later used Lainey as nothing more than a stepping stone for his company's rise. In the end, he even had her kidney ripped from her.
Reborn at the very moment everything began, Lainey called off the wedding without hesitation. But after losing her, Larry begged desperately.
Lainey shot him a cold look, then turned and walked straight into the arms of a powerful, aloof man, who stared down at Larry with pure contempt. "She's my wife now."
8.3
Five years ago, a silver bullet meant for Alpha Liam shattered my spine. I took the shot to save him, and in exchange, my inner wolf went silent. I became a ghost in my own pack—the barren Luna.
But gratitude has an expiration date. Liam brought Sarah home, claiming she was just a "designated breeder" for the heir I couldn't provide.
It was a lie. When Sarah faked a fall, Liam didn't defend me. To appease the Elders, he ordered me to be whipped with silver lashes.
He watched from the balcony as I bled.
Later, on the day he marked her, he drained my rare blood to save her from a "miscarriage," then handed me a one-way ticket to Paris.
"It's for your safety," he said, exiling me to make room for his new family.
I looked at the man I sacrificed everything for. He didn't see a wife; he saw a resource to be used and discarded. He thought he could break me and send me away quietly.
So, I gave him exactly what he wanted: a dead Luna.
I didn't board the plane to Paris. Instead, I let him watch the news report that Flight 815 had crashed into the Atlantic with no survivors.
While he went mad with grief, realizing Sarah was a fraud, I was in the North, unlocking the White Wolf he thought was gone forever.
When we met again, I wasn't his broken wife. I was holding another Alpha's hand.
"Liam Vance," I smiled, my eyes glowing white. "I reject you."
8.4
After being kidnapped for years and finally rescued, five-year-old Izzy thought she was going home to her wealthy biological family.
But when the social worker brought her to the freezing bus station, her biological father, Conrad, didn't even get out of his Mercedes. He took one look at her tangled hair and worn-out shoes, his lip curling in disgust.
"I have a real family now. I'm not disrupting my life for this."
He drove away, leaving her choking on his exhaust fumes. When her rough, grease-stained uncle Bryan forcefully brought her to the family mansion, things only got worse. Her biological mother refused to touch her, complaining that she smelled like a dumpster. Her half-sister Katelynn pushed her to the ground, making her bleed, and framed her for stealing. Instead of helping, Conrad roared at Izzy, calling her a wild animal and threatening to throw her back onto the streets.
Izzy stood there shivering in her oversized rags, watching them stand together in a perfect, unbroken circle. She didn't understand why her own blood looked at her like she was a monster, or why they were so eager to throw a traumatized child back into the dark.
But what her wealthy family didn't know was that Izzy had a secret: she could hear plants talking. And the greenhouse orchids were screaming at their cruelty. So, she climbed onto their expensive coffee table, pointed at her mechanic uncle, and made her choice.
"I don't want Conrad to be my daddy. I want Uncle Bryan."
She walked out of that loveless mansion forever, ready to follow the whispers of an old apple tree in her new backyard—a tree that was about to guide her to a buried fortune of gold.
9.0
Seventeen years after going missing, Brooklyn was finally brought back to her ultra-wealthy biological family.
But instead of a tearful reunion, her parents and sisters treated her like infectious garbage, mocking her cheap clothes and calling her a country bumpkin.
They dumped her into a remedial class to hide her away, cut off her allowance, and threatened to lock down her trust fund to force her into absolute submission.
One night, Brooklyn stood in the shadows of the estate and overheard a conversation that shattered everything.
She hadn't wandered off as a child.
Her parents had deliberately thrown her away because a fake fortune teller claimed her birth chart was a jinx to the family's wealth.
They felt zero remorse, only plotting to banish her again the moment she turned eighteen.
Her biological father thought he was putting a leash on a helpless, uneducated girl by cutting off her pocket change.
He had no idea that Brooklyn was the anonymous VIP who casually dropped sixty million dollars on an emerald at the city's most exclusive auction.
He didn't know she was the elusive medical genius that the world's most powerful billionaires were currently tearing the city apart to find.
The last microscopic shred of hope for a family withered into cold ash in her chest.
"Lock down my trust fund?"
She pulled out her encrypted phone and activated her shadow networks, severing herself entirely from their pathetic surveillance.
Since they believed she was a jinx, she was going to show them exactly what a real curse looked like.