His Obsession, My Revenge: A Mafia Second Life
I woke up in the tangled black silk sheets of the Mafia Don's bed, my skin still burning from his ruthless touch in the dark.
The heavy door burst open, and his pristine wife, Bianca, looked at my bruised collarbones with visceral hatred.
Instead of having me killed for soiling her husband's bed, she offered a devil's bargain.
"You will take my place in his bed. You will be a shadow in the dark."
In my past life, I foolishly accepted, thinking her money would pay for my dying mother's hospital bills. I didn't realize the untouchable Mafia Queen was barren and just needed a disposable incubator. After I endured the Don's violent possession and birthed the Moretti heir, they cut off my mother's medicine. Then, they dragged me to a remote warehouse and suffocated me with a wet mattress to bury their dirty secret forever.
Until my last agonizing breath, I didn't understand why my absolute submission and suffering were rewarded with such a brutal, meaningless death.
Opening my eyes again, I was back on the morning after the Don first claimed me.
I knelt on the Persian rug, weeping tears of fake gratitude as Bianca handed me the cash. But the moment my escort looked away, I didn't take her fertility herbs. I bought a bitter root from an alley witch to keep my womb empty. This time, I won't give the Don a child. I'll become his darkest obsession, and use his lethal power to burn this entire family to the ground.
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Chapter 2
Isabella POV
I forced a violent shiver to wrack my body, letting out a pathetic, broken sob. "I... I don't remember anything, *Signora*(Madam)," I stammered, keeping my eyes glued to the intricate floral patterns of the Persian rug. "Only the wine you gave me. I swear it."
From the corner of the room, Caterina scoffed. "*Bugiarda*(Liar)," she hissed, stepping forward to deliver a sharp kick to my thigh. "*Puttana*(Whore). You planned this. You wanted to spread your legs for the Don."
Bianca raised a perfectly manicured hand, silencing the maid with a lazy flick of her wrist. "Enough, Caterina. The girl was intoxicated. We must show mercy, as God commands."
She sighed, adjusting the collar of her scarlet silk robe. "My husband... Damien is a demanding man. His appetites are dark, and his touch is far too rough for a woman of my delicate constitution." Bianca paused, her tone dripping with false piety. "Furthermore, my spiritual advisor has instructed me to undergo a strict period of fasting and prayer. I cannot fulfill my marital duties while purifying my soul."
I kept my head bowed, my wet hair clinging to my cheeks. *There it is,* I thought, the icy calm in my chest hardening into a diamond. *The surrogate plan.* She needed an incubator, a disposable womb to bear the Moretti heir so she could keep her pristine body untouched and her secrets buried. In my past life, I hadn't understood until it was too late.
"The Don's needs must be met," Mrs. Russo interjected, her voice like grinding stones. "And you, dirty little rat, owe this family your life for the disgrace you've caused."
Bianca smiled sweetly, leaning back against the velvet cushions. "I am giving you a chance to atone, Isabella. You will take my place in his bed."
I needed them to believe I was exactly what they saw: a naive, easily manipulated servant. I widened my eyes, looking up at Bianca with a carefully crafted mix of awe and foolish greed. "You mean... you want me to be the Don's *amante*(mistress)?"
The question had the exact effect I desired.
Mrs. Russo lunged forward, her thick fingers clamping around my jaw like a vice. Her nails dug into my cheeks, forcing my head up. "You are no mistress!" she spat, her breath smelling of bitter coffee. "You are nothing. You will have no name, no face, no voice. You will go to him only in the pitch black, and you will leave before the sun rises. You are a shadow. If he ever discovers who you are, I will personally skin you alive and feed you to the dogs. *Capisci*(Do you understand)?"
Over Mrs. Russo's shoulder, I saw Bianca's satisfied smirk. My "stupidity" had reassured her. A greedy, simple-minded girl was the easiest tool to control.
"Yes," I choked out, letting a fresh tear spill over Mrs. Russo's knuckles. "Yes, I understand. Thank you, *Signora*. I will do whatever you ask."
Bianca nodded, a triumphant glint in her dark eyes. The devil's bargain was sealed. They thought they had chained a lamb, completely unaware they had just invited a wolf into the Don's bed.
Before Bianca could issue her next command, three heavy, rhythmic knocks echoed through the thick oak door.
The suffocatingly sweet scent of Chanel No. 5 seemed to curdle in the air.
"*Signora*," a gruff, masculine voice called from the hallway—one of Damien's loyal *Soldiers*. "The Don has returned. He is on his way up to see you."
The triumphant smirk vanished from Bianca's face, replaced instantly by stark, unfiltered panic. The air in the room turned to ice.
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9.0
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9.0
Carl Woode, a billionaire hardened by his mother's betrayal, has never believed in love. Pride, arrogance, and a guarded heart have always been his armor until he meets Marilyn Porter, a spirited and simple café worker whose kindness and courage challenge everything he thought he knew.
Their first meeting sparks conflict, their arguments ignite passion, and slowly, Carl begins to see life and love through a new lens. But when his powerful father, Darius Woode, threatens to tear them apart, Carl must confront the man who shaped him and fight for the one woman who has captured his heart.
As secrets unravel and emotions flare, Marilyn demands proof of Carl's love, and Carl must risk everything to show her that love is not weakness it is the most powerful force of all. In a story of transformation, trust, and undeniable chemistry, two hearts discover that love is worth every battle, every fight, and every leap of faith.
Will Carl and Marilyn's love survive the weight of family, pride, and fear or will their hearts remain divided?
9.3
My father ordered me to marry into the cursed Vaughn family.
Their heirs were rumored to die young from a mysterious genetic agony. My sister Kayden laughed, saying she wasn't going to waste her youth planning a funeral. So, I became the sacrificial lamb.
When I refused, my father slammed his hand on the table and threatened to throw my dead mother's ashes into the city dump.
"You are a struggling actress with no money and no power. You have no choice," he told me coldly.
To make matters worse, my own agent drugged my drink at a business dinner, trying to sell my body to a sleazy investor just to secure project funding.
I was completely cornered, suffocating under the weight of their cruelty. I couldn't understand how my own flesh and blood could be so vicious, treating me like a worthless pawn to be traded and discarded.
But none of them knew that while escaping the drug-laced dinner, I crashed directly into the terrifying Vaughn heir, Algot.
When his glowing crimson eyes locked onto me during a violent episode of his cursed pain, we discovered an impossible truth: my physical touch was the only cure for his agony.
Looking at the dark bruises he accidentally left on my neck, I chose not to run. Instead, I pulled out the private business card he gave me and dialed his number.
"You need me," I whispered to the dangerous billionaire. "And I am going to use you to destroy them all."
8.4
I was drugged and sent to a hotel room to be compromised, but I ended up in the presidential suite with a stranger.
I didn't know the man I clung to in my hallucinogenic haze was my own husband, Devaughn Winters, a man I hadn't spoken to in a year.
When I woke up the next morning, the terror of what I’d done hit me like a physical blow. I fled, leaving behind nothing but a shredded dress and a lingering sense of dread.
I thought I’d finally escaped the cold, suffocating contract of our marriage when I signed the divorce papers, but I was wrong.
My mother-in-law arrived at my apartment, freezing my sick mother’s medical funds and threatening to ruin me for the "infidelity" she claimed I’d committed.
She dragged my secrets into the light, leaving me with no choice but to fight back with a knife in my hand and a 911 call on speaker.
But just as I thought I was free, the man I’d spent the night with—the man who was supposed to be my stranger—tore up our divorce papers and declared that I was his to keep.
I was a pawn in a game I didn't understand, trapped between a ruthless father who wanted to sell me for corporate secrets and a husband who demanded I belong to him in life and in death.
How did he not know who I was that night, and why is he suddenly claiming me as his own?
I’m done being a victim, and if he thinks he can own me, he’s about to find out exactly what happens when a cornered woman decides to burn it all down.
8.7
Aria Blackwood grew up as the Alpha's daughter. Everyone expected her to lead. She was taught to stand tall, never bow.
Then came her eighteenth birthday. In front of the whole pack, her mate rejected her.
Rafe Daniels didn't just break her heart-he shattered the bond and turned it into a battlefield.
Five years later, Silver Crest has fallen. Aria's father is gone. Her pack has surrendered. And Aria? He keeps her alive for one thing: to serve in the house of the man who wrecked her world.
Rafe calls it mercy, this humiliation. He thinks she's beaten.
Let him think it.
She drops her gaze, but she catches every whisper. She carries out orders, but she's always plotting. And that mate bond-they both feel it burning, whether they want it or not. Aria just turns that fire into something sharper.
Revenge.
She was never supposed to kneel. She was born to rule. And she's going to take her throne back-even if she has to destroy the man fate chose for her.
8.7
Heidi gripped the sterile hospital bedsheets as violent contractions ripped her body apart.
The heavy door opened, but it wasn't the doctor. It was Brigette, wearing the exact custom wedding dress Heidi had spent six months designing for herself.
Brigette held up her phone on speaker. When the doctor warned that a natural delivery would kill the mother, Christian Page's voice echoed through the room, ice-cold and devoid of any warmth.
"Prioritize the Page heirs. Let her die."
The man she loved had just signed her death warrant over the phone.
Brigette stole her newborn twins, dragged her to an abandoned warehouse, and poured gasoline over her bare legs.
Flicking a lit cigar into the puddle, Brigette left Heidi tied to an iron pillar to burn alive.
But as the flames formed a deadly circle around her, Heidi's body convulsed with a terrifying truth.
In the heart of the blazing inferno, she miraculously gave birth to two more babies she didn't know she was carrying.
Using her own back as a human shield against the falling embers, she survived the fire, but the ultimate betrayal burned deeper than her ruined skin.
Four years later, Heidi returned to New York with a reconstructed face, two brilliant children, and a terrifying new identity as the world's top underground surgeon.
When Christian, entirely unaware of who she was, signed a waiver begging her to save his dying grandfather's life, Heidi looked into his desperate eyes with absolute, clinical boredom.
"The game starts now," she said coldly.
7.5
In a world where wolf clans rule kingdoms of fire, shadow, and storm, one girl is forgotten... until she rises.
Betrayed by her own pack and cast out into the frozen wastelands, she survives only by forging a bond with a legendary white direwolf-an ancient spirit of vengeance. Once scorned, underestimated, and left for dead, she claws her way back from Omega to Alpha, mastering frost and fury, outsmarting rival Alphas, and commanding armies with ruthless precision.
But destiny isn't done testing her. The Moon Goddess binds her to three fated mates-a brooding Fire Prince, a cunning Shadow Alpha, and a loyal Iceborn warrior-each demanding her heart, each threatening her autonomy. Will she surrender to prophecy... or claim them all?
Her choice will reshape kingdoms, ignite battles, and redefine what it truly means to be a Queen. This is the story of the Alpha Queen. This is the Reign of Ice.