Follow
Chapters
Share
Ex Begs Back-After Letting Another Wolf Claim My Kid Novel Cover

Ex Begs Back-After Letting Another Wolf Claim My Kid

I've spent years as the Blake pack's punching bag-all because of a lie about my dad. Veronica, the she-wolf I once loved, the mother of my little Ivy, spat on me daily. "You're a rogue," she'd snarl, slamming me into walls. "Ivy will never know you're her father." Preston, that snake, made it worse. He paid thugs to beat me, whispered lies to turn the pack against me. But when Veronica locked me in a basement with rabid dogs? That's when I knew I had to die-or fake it. I chose the latter. Now I'm free. Camille's in my arms, our daughter Lila clinging to my leg, her laugh brighter than the moon. But Veronica found me. "Owen, I love you," she sobbed, dragging me to a binding ceremony. I stared at Camille, at Lila's sleeping face. "Some wounds don't heal, pup."
Chapters
Share

Chapter 2

She turns to me, her eyes glinting with something dangerous.

"You wanted the high life, didn't you, Owen? Well, I'm giving you a shot."

A chill runs through me. Whatever's coming, it's bad. Real bad.

Veronica doesn't give me a chance to argue.

She shoves me through the gilded doors, my shoulder slamming into a marble pillar. The air reeks of perfume and dominance-this is the Den, where she-wolves rule, claws sheathed in silk.​

"Got your sacrifice," Veronica barks, tossing a key at the queen of the house. "A rogue with a pretty snarl. Keep him leashed. Entertain the girls."​

The queen's gaze rakes me, wolf-pupils narrowing. "Veronica's always had a knack for broken things." She flicks a wrist. "Show us your teeth, pretty one. Let's see if you're worth the chains."​

My throat tightens.

I clutch my collar, heart pounding, staring at the room full of strangers.

"I can't do this," I stammer.

"Veronica, please, don't make me do this!"

Her face is stone-cold, and she grabs my chin, her grip tight enough to bruise.

Her eyes are dark, chilling me to the bone.

"Oh, you don't like it? How about I do this to your dad instead? One call, and I'll have his oxygen cut off."

"No!"

I grab her arm, desperate.

She snorts, yanking free.

"If my pack hadn't taken you in, your uncle Raymond would've sold you off to who-knows-where. And now you're acting all high and mighty?"

My lips tremble, memories clawing their way back.

When Veronica banished me to the old Blake estate to work as a servant, the older hands there knew my story.

"His dad seduced Margot, caused all this mess," they'd whisper.

"Now he's sniffing around Veronica. Shameless."

By day, they gossiped.

By night, under cover of darkness, they'd rip off what little clothes I had left, pinching and bruising my skin.

When that wasn't enough, they'd beat me with whatever was handy, leaving me battered and broken.

They knew no one would care if I died there.

"Need help stripping?"

Veronica snaps, her patience gone.

She lunges for my shirt, and I flinch, my whole body shaking.

Just being near anyone now sets me off, trembling like a cornered pup.

"No! I'll do it," I choke out, biting back the shame.

Just hold on. One more month, and I'm out of this hell.

I unbutton my shirt, one agonizing button at a time.

It falls to the floor, leaving my scrawny frame exposed. I hug myself, shivering in the cold air.

The old she wolf smirks.

"That's not enough, wolf."

Tears sting my eyes, but I hold them back, turning to Veronica.

"You gotta humiliate me like this? If it's ever proven my dad didn't do those things, you'll regret this."

She laughs, sharp and merciless.

"Regret? The only thing I regret is knowing you. You and your dad would do anything for a buck, wouldn't you?"

"Keep going. Strip."

I shut my eyes tight, willing the tears to stay put.

My fingers grip my pants, knuckles white.

Veronica watches, irritation flickering across her face, like she's already bored.

Then her phone rings.

I catch a glimpse of the caller-Preston Hale, my childhood friend.

Her voice shifts, soft as honey.

"Hey, babe, miss me? Alright, I'm on my way."

She hangs up and bolts without a backward glance.

I stumble out of the room, clutching the one hundred bucks the old fat she wolf tossed at me. My face burns like I've been slapped.

"Veronica's orders," she'd said with a sleazy grin. "

A wolf like you? Worth one hundred. Not a penny more."

The sunlight's too bright, stabbing at my eyes. I collapse to the ground, sobs tearing out of me. In that moment, the Veronica I once knew-the gentle, kind she-wolf I loved-is dead to me.

You may also like

El hijo de la reina de la mafia Novel Cover
8.8
As the only heir to a powerful criminal matriarch, Leo lives under the weight of a dangerous legacy. His world of violence and duty is disrupted when he crosses paths with a woman who challenges his loyalty to the family business. Amidst brutal power struggles and high-stakes betrayals, Leo must navigate a treacherous path where love and bloodshed collide. Can he protect his heart while surviving the cutthroat reality of the underworld?
Emerald Malice - A Mafia Romance Novel Cover
9.0
I crashed a wedding. Got caught by the best man. Now, I'm pregnant with his baby... It's Katya's fault. (As per usual.) My BFF despises her ex and wants to hate-watch him marry the woman he left her for. Problem is, she didn't fill me in on that plan... Until we arrive at the ceremony. As soon as I find out, I run. Hop on the elevator and smash the Doors Close button like the Energizer Bunny on a sugar rush. But right before they shut... A hand comes shooting through. And attached to that hand, unfortunately for me, is the most stunning human specimen I've ever seen. Tall. Dark. Handsome. Dangerous. Also... the best man. He takes one look at me and knows I don't belong. "Who let you in here, little bird?" he growls. I gulp. Tremble. Open my mouth to lie... And then the elevator stops.
My Husband Forced Me To Donate My Bone Marrow Novel Cover
8.6
Six months after I died during childbirth, my husband came looking for me, demanding I terminate the pregnancy so I could donate my bone marrow to his idealized love. I was the only match. My mother told him, "My daughter has already passed away." With a face full of disdain, my husband retorted, "I ignored for six months and now she's throwing a tantrum, even faking her death! Pass this message to her. Even if she gives birth, I won't spare her a glance! If she doesn't come forward to donate bone marrow within three days, don't blame me for cutting off your medical expenses!" What he didn't know was that after my death, my mother had already given up on her cancer treatment. She held on just to see his remorse at my grave.
Reborn Heiress: Pampered By The Ruthless Don Novel Cover
7.5
The man smiling in the silver frame on my vanity was the very same man who, in exactly three months, would wrap his hands around my throat. I knew this because I had already died. I had felt the freezing, silty water of the Hudson River fill my lungs while Alexander watched the life drain from my eyes, his mistress laughing in the background. I had hovered like a ghost above my own funeral, watching the betrayal continue even after my death. My mother, the perfect Mafia widow, stood stoically next to my killer, unaware she had sold her daughter to a butcher. My fiancé checked his watch, bored, waiting to liquidate my inheritance. But then I saw him. Darrian Golden. The Don of the rival clan. The enemy. He stood in the pouring rain, his expensive suit soaked through, staring at my coffin as if the world had ended. When the earth hit the wood, he didn't just cry; he roared in primal agony. My fiancé killed me, but my enemy was the only one who mourned me. "The Commission is waiting," my mother’s voice snapped the timeline back into place. She stood in my doorway, demanding I set the engagement date to secure the territory. She saw a charming Capo; I saw the rat who had cut my father's brake lines. In my first life, I was a trembling bird. In this life, I was the match that would burn the cage down. I smashed the photo frame against the marble table, the sound cracking through the room like a gunshot. "Contact the Golden Clan," I commanded. My mother went pale. "He is a savage, Azalea. He butchers men for sport." "Tell Don Golden that Azalea Kidd is offering a parley," I said, looking out the window at the city that would soon be ours. "Tell him I am offering the only thing he has ever wanted: Me."
Reborn To Ruin The Mafia Don Novel Cover
8.0
My sister Rosalie always played the role of my gentle protector. On the night of my engagement, she insisted I take a secluded canyon road for my own safety. In my past life, I didn't know it was a deadly trap. I fell for the staged ambush and the rival mobster, Julian, who took a fake bullet to "save" me. Because of my blind trust, my entire Falcone bloodline was annihilated overnight. My father was beheaded, my brothers were gunned down, and my sweet little sister was left to die in a filthy alley. I was even brainwashed into betraying my new husband, Damien Moretti. I shot the only man who truly protected me right through the heart, just before Rosalie drowned me in a freezing lake, laughing as she confessed she was just a bastard child stealing my life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very night my nightmare began. I was trapped in a penthouse, a lethal drug melting my sanity, pinned beneath Damien. But after he brutally sweat the poison out of my veins, he didn't look at me with love. He handed me a Plan B pill with a gaze full of ancient, chilling hatred. "Swallow it," he commanded, his voice a sheet of ice. He remembers. The Dark Don remembers the past life where I murdered him. But this time, I won't be a pawn. I wiped the blood of my traitorous maid from my hands, ready to drag my fake sister straight to hell.
Saved By The Ruthless Rival Don Novel Cover
9.7
For nine years, I was the perfect mafia wife. I laundered Marcus Thorne’s money through my design firm, smiled at his dinners, and ignored the lipstick stains on his collars. I believed in the Omertà of our marriage. I thought my loyalty was my armor. I was wrong. On the night of our anniversary gala, a car lost control and barreled straight toward us in the parking lot. Marcus didn't look at me. Not once. He lunged for his mistress, Izzy, tackling her to safety behind a concrete pillar. I was left standing in the open. The impact threw me like a ragdoll. I lay bleeding on the cold asphalt, my body broken, watching through the haze as my husband frantically checked his mistress for scratches. "My ankle," she whimpered. Without a backward glance, he picked her up and carried her to his limousine, leaving me to bleed out on the pavement. He didn't leave me because he panicked. He left me because I was just a shield he used to protect what he actually loved. As darkness crept in, a shadow fell over me. It wasn't Marcus. It was Julian Croft, his sworn rival. I looked at the empty spot where my husband should have been and made a choice. "Get me to the hospital," I rasped, staring into the eyes of the enemy. "And then help me burn his empire to the ground."