His Unwanted Wife, The Rival Don's Queen

The gunman pressed a Glock to my temple and gave my husband a choice. "One walks out. One stays. Choose, Mr. Underboss." I wasn't worried. I was Haven. I was his wife of ten years, his Consigliere, the woman who built his empire. Beside me sobbed Gemma, a fragile twenty-two-year-old he had known for six months. "Take Gemma! Leave Haven!" Connor screamed, his honor twisting into something unrecognizable. He walked out of the warehouse with another woman in his arms, leaving me to be butchered. I didn't wait for the bullet. I threw myself through a glass window into the freezing canal. I survived the fall, but the life inside me didn't. After five years of failed IVF, the miracle baby I hadn't even told Connor about was gone. While I lay in a cold hospital room, bleeding out the remains of our child, my husband was buying diamond earrings for the woman who had set me up to die. When the doctor tried to sedate me for the surgery, I grabbed his wrist. "No anesthesia," I commanded. "But the pain..." "I want to feel it," I said, staring at the ceiling. "I want to feel every scrap of him leaving my body." I burned that pain into my soul. Then, I went home, poured gasoline over our wedding bed, and lit a match. Two years later, I returned to the city. Connor thought I was dead. But when he saw me on the arm of his mortal enemy, wearing the crown of a rival Queen, he realized his mistake. He didn't just lose a wife. He started a war.

Chapters

Chapter 5

Haven POV

I didn't go to the hospital. Not yet.

I physically couldn't move.

The guards practically carried me to the car, their grip the only thing keeping me upright as they drove me back to the penthouse.

I was bleeding, but the agony radiating from my chest was so acute it dulled the cramping in my womb to a distant, throbbing hum.

I lay in the guest bedroom, staring blindly at the ceiling.

Time bled away until, an hour later, I heard the front door click open.

Connor's voice.

Hushed.

Gentle.

I dragged myself out of the sheets.

I needed him to know. I needed him to witness the ruin he had caused.

I needed him to see the blood staining my dress.

I walked down the hallway, trailing a trembling hand against the wall to stay upright.

The door to his study was ajar, a sliver of golden light spilling onto the floor.

Then, I heard Gemma.

It wasn't the scared little girl voice anymore. It was low, sultry, and confident.

"They bought it," she said smoothly. "The George family is satisfied. The shipping routes are unblocked."

I froze.

She was confessing.

Connor sighed, the sound heavy with exhaustion.

"I know," he said. "I saw the photos before I kicked them into the river. I knew, Gemma."

The ground beneath me seemed to liquefy.

He knew.

He knew she was a traitor, a liar, and he had still chosen her.

"Why didn't you let her kill me?" Gemma asked softly.

"Because I owe your father," Connor replied. "And because... because looking at you makes me feel like a man again. With her... she makes me feel like an employee."

I leaned forward, forcing my eyes to peer through the crack.

Connor was sinking into his leather chair.

Gemma was straddling his lap.

He kissed her.

It was hungry. Desperate.

"I am going to leave her," Connor murmured against her lips, the promise vibrating through the air. "As soon as the baby is born, I will take the heir and divorce her. We can be together."

A sound ripped from my throat.

A sob that sounded like an animal dying.

They sprang apart.

Connor's head snapped toward the door.

"Haven?"

I collapsed.

The darkness rose up to claim me, but not before I felt the warm, devastating rush of blood soaking my thighs, carrying the life I had wanted so desperately out of my body.

I woke up in a hospital.

Not the Family hospital. Somewhere sterile. Anonymous.

Dr. Evans was there.

Her face was a mask of grim professional pity.

"I am so sorry, Haven," she said softly. "The stress... the physical trauma... the placenta detached. The baby is gone."

I stared at her.

I felt hollow.

Scraped clean.

"We need to perform a D&C to clear the lining," she explained gently. "It is a surgical procedure. We will put you under general anesthesia. You won't feel a thing."

I sat up.

My eyes were dry as bone.

"No," I said.

Dr. Evans blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"No anesthesia," I repeated.

"Haven, that is barbaric," she gasped, her composure cracking. "It is incredibly painful. There is no reason to suffer."

"There is a reason," I said.

I looked down at my empty hands.

I wanted to remember.

I wanted to burn this moment into my neurons so deeply that I would never, ever forget what Connor Jones had cost me.

"I want to feel it," I told her, my voice turning to steel. "I want to feel every scrap of him leaving my body."

"But-"

"Do it," I commanded. "Or I will do it myself with a hanger in the bathroom."

She paled.

She prepped the instruments.

When the metal scraped against the inside of my womb, I didn't scream.

I gripped the side rails of the bed until my knuckles popped.

Sweat poured down my face, stinging my eyes.

Agony radiated from my core, a white-hot fire that consumed the woman I used to be.

With every scrape, I made a vow.

I wasn't just losing a child.

I was shedding a skin.

The dutiful wife died on that table.

The Consigliere died on that table.

When it was over, I lay in a pool of my own sweat, shaking uncontrollably.

Dr. Evans looked nauseous, like she was about to cry.

I looked at the ceiling.

I felt light.

I felt empty.

I felt lethal.

Continue to next part

I am the best esports jungler in the league, but I've been hiding a severe wrist injury just to keep my team alive in the semifinals. Right in the middle of the crucial tie-breaker game, our mid-laner deliberately walked into the enemy team and died without casting a single defensive spell. He was match-fixing for offshore betting sites, throwing away our entire season for a massive payout. Because of his betrayal, we had to sub in two terrified rookies, and we were absolutely slaughtered. The stadium crowd booed us out of the arena. The internet exploded with pure vitriol, trending hashtags calling me a washed-up fraud who hid on the bench to save my own stats. The media demanded I retire immediately. My physical therapist gave me a grim ultimatum: my shredded nerves only allow me four hours of playtime a day before my right hand completely locks up. I destroyed my own body for this team, only to be sold out by a coward and crucified by the very fans I bled for. Why should my legacy end in total disgrace because of someone else's greed? I refuse to step down. I forced the traitor out, ignored management's safe roster choices, and locked my eyes on the most toxic, universally hated streamer on the platform. "He's a walking PR nightmare," my coach warned. I don't care. He is an arrogant, unhinged killer in the game, and I am going to make him mine.

Action LitRPG Mafia

9.6

DANGEROUS CRAVINGS: SINFULLY TANGLED WITH MY STEPBROTHER

9.6

Ezran Williamson never asked for a new family, especially not one that comes with a stepbrother he can't stand. At twenty-one, Ezran is sharp-tongued, rebellious, and determined to graduate and build a future in programming on his own terms. But when his mother remarries a powerful businessman, his carefully controlled life collides with Lucian Banks, his cold, dominant, and dangerously untouchable stepbrother. Successful, older, and infuriatingly composed, Lucian is everything Ezran hates. Slowly, hatred turns into tension, tension becomes chemistry, and chemistry ignites something neither of them is prepared to face. What begins as resistance slowly unravels into a forbidden obsession, one that defies family, morality, and control. As secrets surface and pressure mounts, Ezran and Lucian are forced to choose between duty and desire, legacy and love, because some feelings don't fade and some obsessions are worth every consequence.

Action LGBT+Mafia Modern

9.6

Desired By Two Mafias

9.6

Elena is trapped in a dangerous world where two powerful mafia leaders compete for her heart. Torn between a ruthless kingpin and his equally lethal rival, she must navigate a landscape of violence and betrayal. As their obsession intensifies, Elena becomes the prize in a deadly game of dominance. With bullets flying and loyalty tested, she struggles to survive while discovering that being desired by such men comes with a lethal price for everyone.

Action Mafia Romance

7.5

From Mafia Doll To Montana Queen

7.5

I was the invisible daughter of the Hayes crime family, secretly painting portraits of Marcus, the Underboss. He was the man who had once protected me from the world, the man I loved from the shadows. But he chose power over affection. To secure an alliance, he engaged Isabella. Threatened by my existence, Isabella staged a fake miscarriage and framed me for destroying her heirloom wedding dress. Marcus didn't ask for my side of the story. Blinded by rage over his "lost heir," he ordered his guards to drag me to the Ice Cellar—a freezing underground torture chamber used for traitors. For days, I shivered in the absolute darkness, listening to the water drip, realizing the man I worshiped was actually my jailer. My father, protecting his own millions, let it happen. In that cold, the girl who loved Marcus died. When he finally released me, he expected me to be broken, obedient, and grateful for his mercy. Instead, I burned every painting I had ever made of him. I packed a single bag and vanished into the night, escaping to a rugged ranch in Montana where no one knew my name. Three years later, the truth about Isabella’s lies finally surfaced. Marcus tracked me down. The King of New York fell to his knees in the dirt and cow manure of my new home, weeping, begging, and offering me the entire world to come back. I looked down at the man who once owned my heart. "You can't un-shatter a glass, Marcus," I said coldly. "I'm not coming home."

Mafia Modern Romance

8.1

He Faked Amnesia To Break Our Vows

8.1

I was sealing our wedding invitations with crimson wax when I heard my fiancé through the slightly ajar study door. Ethan wasn't reciting the poetry he’d written for me over the last seven years. He was outlining the logistics of his betrayal. "If I fake amnesia after the 'accident' tonight, I can delay the wedding without the family stopping the merger," Ethan laughed, ice clinking in his glass. "And Ava? The Canary?" his friend asked. "Ava is property. You maintain property; you don't have fun with it. While she plays nurse, I get a medical exemption to sleep with Chloe." My world shattered. I fled into the rainy night, blinded by tears, until headlights turned my world upside down. I woke up in the wreckage, my arm shattered, tasting blood. Ethan arrived moments later. But he didn't run to me. He stepped right over my bleeding body to comfort Chloe, who had a minor scratch on her forehead. "I've got you, baby," he cooed to his mistress, looking at me with nothing but cold annoyance. "Don't worry about her. She's tough." He left me in the street. By the next morning, the narrative was set: The tragic Don had lost his memory of his fiancée, but miraculously remembered his 'true love,' Chloe. He evicted me from our penthouse while I was still in surgery. He thought he had won. He thought the Canary would just die in the cold. He forgot one thing. I knew where he hid the bodies—literally. I walked into his staged public proposal, slammed my ring on the table, and left a note under it. *I remember everything. And so do you.* Then I boarded a plane with his secret incriminating journal in my bag. The empire was about to burn.

Mafia Modern Romance

8.5

Marrying The Ex-Fiancé's Ruthless Mafia Brother

8.5

My fiancé left me standing alone at the podium during our rehearsal dinner to rush to the side of a woman whose only illness was a desperate need for attention. He humiliated me in front of the heads of the Five Families, abandoning our alliance to scoop his "dying" mistress off the floor. I didn't cry. I didn't run. I walked straight to the head table, to the most terrifying man in the city—his older brother, the Don. "The Woodward family owes me a husband," I declared calmly. An hour later, I was married to the Capo dei Capi. But my ex-fiancé didn't accept his demotion. He kidnapped me, strapping me to a chair in a soundproof basement. For three days, he drained my blood pint by pint to "save" his mistress, Jaidyn, who watched me fade while she casually ate an apple. "Take another bag," she ordered, smiling at my agony. "She still has too much fight in her." As the cold crept up my chest and my vision blurred, I realized I was going to die for a lie, drained dry by a madman. Then, the steel door detonated. Through the smoke and debris walked my husband, not with a ransom, but with a serrated knife and a promise to burn them alive.

Mafia Modern Romance

His Unwanted Wife, The Rival Don's Queen

Chapter 5

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