From Tortured Wife To Mafia Queen

I posted a photo of baby shoes to celebrate my pregnancy. Two hours later, my husband was holding jumper cables. Kaeden, the Mafia Capo who swore to protect me, stood under the buzzing fluorescent lights of the basement. He didn't look like the man who brought me vanilla lattes. He looked like a monster. His "fragile" childhood friend, Clemmie, had convinced him that my innocent post was a signal to our enemies. "Discipline," Kaeden muttered, refusing to look at my weeping face. "She needs to learn the cost of her voice." He ordered low voltage—just enough to scare me. But the moment he walked out the door, unable to watch, Clemmie smiled. "He's not coming back for you," she whispered. She cranked the dial all the way to the right. She didn't just want to teach me a lesson. She wanted to stop my heart so she could harvest it for herself. And my husband had already signed the release forms. But they made one mistake. They left the cleanup to Alois, the family's most ruthless Enforcer. He didn't bury me. He saved me. Now, while Kaeden cries over a fake grave, consumed by guilt, I am watching from the shadows. Daria Burris died in that chair. The woman who survived is coming for blood.

Chapters

Chapter 4

Daria POV:

The car ride was a dizzying smear of neon lights and agonizing bumps.

Every vibration sent a fresh spasm of nausea rolling through me.

Alois drove with one hand on the wheel, the other pressing a towel hard against the bleeding wound on my arm.

"Don't sleep," he commanded.

"It hurts," I mumbled, my words slurring.

"Good. Pain means you're alive."

He swerved sharply into an alleyway behind a dilapidated veterinary clinic.

Not a hospital.

We couldn't go to a hospital. Kaeden had eyes everywhere.

Alois kicked the back door open, hauling me out and carrying me inside.

The sharp sting of antiseptic mixed with the earthy scent of dog food hit me.

A man in a lab coat rushed out.

He wasn't Dr. Gates.

He was older, his hands shaking.

"Alois? You said you were bringing a dog with a gunshot wound!" the vet stammered, eyes widening.

"Plans changed," Alois growled, depositing me on the cold stainless steel table. "Save her. And the child."

"I'm a vet! I can't-I treat animals, I don't-"

Alois pulled a gun and slammed it on the counter.

"You're a doctor. Figure it out."

The vet swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, and grabbed a stethoscope.

He ripped open my blouse.

He hissed through his teeth when he saw the burns.

"Electrical," he muttered, horror in his voice. "Who did this?"

"Is there a heartbeat?" Alois asked, cutting through the question.

The vet moved the ultrasound probe over my bruised stomach.

Silence.

My world stopped.

Please. God, please. Take me, but not him.

Whoosh-whoosh. Whoosh-whoosh.

A faint, rapid rhythm filled the room.

I let out a sob that felt like it tore my chest open.

"Fetal heartbeat is distressed but present," the vet said, working with frantic efficiency now. "She's dehydrated. In shock. Severe electrical trauma. I need to stabilize her before her kidneys shut down."

"Do it," Alois said.

He stood by the door, watching the alley, his gun loose but ready in hand.

I looked at him, vision swimming.

"Why?" I whispered.

He turned his gaze to me.

For the first time, I saw something other than cold lethality in his eyes.

I saw a debt.

"Three years ago," he said quietly. "My daughter. Leukemia. The insurance company denied the experimental treatment. You were on the board of the charity."

I blinked, the memory hazy through the pain.

I had signed thousands of papers.

"You pushed it through," he said. "You paid the deductible from your personal account. You didn't know who I was. You just saw a dying girl."

Tears leaked from my eyes, hot tracks on my cold skin.

"She lived?"

"She's seven now," Alois said, his voice softening just a fraction. "She likes horses."

He looked away, his jaw tightening.

"Kaeden threw you away like garbage. But to me... you are the reason my world still spins."

The vet stuck a needle in my arm.

"I'm giving her a sedative," the vet said. "She needs to rest to lower the stress on the fetus."

The room began to tilt and spin.

"Kaeden..." I murmured, the drug pulling me under like a heavy tide.

"Kaeden is dead to you," Alois's voice was the last thing I heard. "You died in a fire tonight, Daria. The woman you were is gone."

Continue to next part

In the two years after I married Daniel Carter, my private photos had gone viral nine times, and Daniel had been taken into custody ten times. Because every time his mistress, Emily Morgan, was unhappy, she would leak my private photos all over the internet. I, Claire Parker, never let it slide. I reported every shady business Daniel was involved in and personally sent him behind bars. That lasted until an unexpected kidnapping. I took a bullet for him, one aimed straight at his heart, and he shielded me beneath his body, taking the brunt of the explosion for me. After we survived, the man who had always been so cold-blooded knelt before me, his voice hoarse beyond recognition. "Honey, let's leave the drama behind. I just want a peaceful life with you." Right in front of me, he ordered his men to send his mistress out of Northhaven and never let her appear before him again. In the third year after we reconciled, I carried my eight-month pregnant belly and brought him lunch. But on the way there, I was hit by a car. The hospital issued three critical condition notices, yet they still could not save the baby. Daniel rushed over, but he did not even spare me a glance. Instead, he pulled the woman who had hit me and her child into his arms, soothing her in a low voice. "Don't be scared. I'll protect you and the child." Only then did I realize that the woman who had hit me was the very mistress he had sent away three years ago. When I demanded an explanation, Daniel brushed it off as if it were nothing. "She didn't do it on purpose. Don't take it out on her and her son. You can have a baby another time." At that moment, I finally understood. They had gotten back together long ago. I looked at him and nodded. "Don't worry, this will never happen again."

Mafia Modern Romance

7.8

BLOODBOUND EMPEROR

7.8

Alec Draven, the ruthless Mafia Emperor of Valorian City, rules with fear and iron control-until he meets Mira, a mysterious woman who offers him a dangerous, secret, all-consuming arrangement. In a world of crime, magic, and forbidden desire, their private bond becomes the one thing powerful enough to destroy them both.

Action Mafia Mystery

8.9

CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON.

8.9

Isabella Romano is the neglected princess of her family, casted away unknowingly by her father, she has lived with her mother all her life, seeking some fatherly love but she learnt to stop caring. Now after a reckless night she finds herself tangled in the sheets of a man she was told to always hate. Vladimir Volkov. A man far more scary that what she has been told, he is not just the boogeyman he is the one you send to kill the boogeyman. Imagine her shock when she finds out she hasn't just gotten the attention of The Russian Don but is also carrying his child Follow the hate to love relationship of isabella and Vladimir and watch how they navigate their life in his dark world that he dragged her to, making her and his unborn child a target to the new arising enemy that aims to destroy both the Italians and the Russians.

Mafia Modern Romance

7.9

Goodbye, Mafia Ex-Boyfriend

7.9

I stood by Franco for seven years. I stayed with him from his days as a Brooklyn street enforcer until he became the Underboss of the Moretti family. We promised to marry the day he fully took over the territory. Until last month. I saw Franco tangled up with someone else on the leather sofa of his safe house. He said she was cold like ice and that the other woman knew exactly how to please a man. He pinned her down. I chose to walk away. I heard the rumors later. After I left. Franco lost his mind.

Mafia Modern Romance

7.8

His Forbidden Obsession: Tempting The Devil I Can't Have

7.8

BLURB "Beg for it, Bella," his rasped voice whispered against my ears as his dick rubbed against my thighs. "I want you to f**k me until my tongue knows nothing but your name. Please, Daddy," I begged shamelessly until he finally slipped into me. - The first time I saw him, I understood why people ruin their lives for dicks. He was standing in the sunlight, watching me like he already knew how the story would end. I had a boyfriend. He was my best friend's father. And ninety days should have been easy to survive. Then I opened the wrong door, and after everything burned. Alexander Moreau doesn't touch you first. He studies you, learns you, and makes you feel like the only person in the room. And somewhere between midnight swims and locked doors, I stopped pretending I didn't want him. I'd go through hell and come back friends with the devil if it would mean him sticking his dick inside me again. But houses made of glass don't protect secrets, and by the time summer ended, I had lost my best friend, my relationship, my future, and the version of myself I thought I was. Because falling for Alexander Moreau wasn't the danger. His ex-wife was.

Mafia Modern Romance

9.1

His Unwanted Fiancée Was His True Savior

9.1

I was standing in five thousand dollars of hand-stitched lace when I received the medical report. My fiancé, Dante de Rossi, the future Don of Chicago, had gotten another woman pregnant. He didn't apologize. He didn't beg. He looked me in the eye and called it a "strategic necessity." "Isobel saved my life five years ago," he said coldly. "I owe her this child. You will raise it as your own. It is the price of the Peace Treaty." He forced me to cancel our engagement photos so he could take them with her. He took her on the vacation meant for our honeymoon. At dinner, he ordered me the seafood risotto, completely forgetting my deadly shellfish allergy, while fussing over Isobel’s water temperature. When I tried to leave, he cornered me. "You are a mob wife, Nina. Act like one. She is the hero who saved me." I wanted to laugh. Because five years ago, in that alley, Isobel wasn't even there. I was the one in the mask. I was the one who stitched his femoral artery and saved his life, risking my own medical license. He was destroying our twenty-year relationship to pay a debt to a liar. I didn't scream. I didn't fight. I simply picked up a red marker and walked to the calendar. On the day of our wedding, while Dante stood at the altar waiting for his obedient Queen, I was already boarding a one-way flight to the other side of the world. I left him nothing but four words scrawled across the date: "Let's break up, Dante."

Action Mafia Romance

From Tortured Wife To Mafia Queen

Chapter 4

You may also like