Leaving Love for Freedom

For three years, Evelyn endured a loveless marriage to the ruthless mafia heir, Dante Moretti. Treated as a mere trophy and stifled by his cold indifference, she finally gathers the courage to file for divorce. Seeking a life of independence away from the underworld's shadow, she is shocked when Dante refuses to let her go. As he shifts from neglect to a dangerous obsession, Evelyn must fight to escape his grasp and find true freedom.

Chapters

Chapter 1

I woke before the sunrise on our fifth anniversary, my heart fluttering with anticipation. For months, I'd been secretly working on Vincenzo's gift—a portrait capturing our happiest memories together. The morning light filtered through our bedroom curtains as I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him.

In the kitchen, I prepared his favorite breakfast: eggs benedict with freshly squeezed orange juice and the aromatic Italian coffee he loved so much. The table was set with our wedding china, a small vase of red roses at the center. Everything had to be perfect today.

I heard his footsteps on the stairs and smoothed down my silk robe, suddenly feeling nervous. Five years of marriage, and still my heart raced when he entered a room.

"Happy anniversary," I said, my voice soft with affection as he appeared in the doorway.

Vincenzo stood there in his tailored suit, already dressed for work. His dark hair was perfectly styled, not a strand out of place. But something in his expression made my smile falter—a coldness I'd been noticing more frequently these past months.

"I have something for you," he said, his voice devoid of the warmth I craved.

My fingers instinctively went to my wedding ring, twisting it as I often did when anxious. "I have something for you too. But let's eat first while it's hot."

"This can't wait." He placed a manila envelope on the table, pushing aside the roses I'd arranged so carefully.

"What's this?" I asked, though something in me already knew—a premonition settling like ice in my stomach.

"Your anniversary gift." His lips curled into what might have been a smile on anyone else. "Divorce papers."

The world seemed to tilt beneath me. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"I've never been more serious, Maria." He loosened his tie slightly. "I want a divorce so I can have a proper seven-day romance with Kaiya Bell."

Kaiya Bell. His new intern. Twenty-three years old with honey-blonde hair and eyes that widened with practiced innocence whenever he entered the room. I'd seen her at the company Christmas party, hanging on his every word.

"Seven days?" I repeated, my voice sounding distant to my own ears.

"Yes. Seven days to experience what real passion feels like again." He checked his watch. "I've invited her for dinner tonight. I expect you to be civil."

I stared at the breakfast I'd prepared with such care, now growing cold between us. "You want me to host dinner for your mistress? In our home?"

"Our home for now," he corrected. "And yes. It's the least you could do to make this transition smooth."

The least I could do. As if I owed him this final humiliation.

That evening, I found myself setting the dining table for three, my movements mechanical. The doorbell rang, and Vincenzo rushed to answer it with an eagerness I hadn't seen directed at me in years.

Kaiya floated in wearing a white dress that screamed false innocence, her perfume filling our home like an invasive species. She kissed Vincenzo full on the lips before turning to me with a saccharine smile.

"Maria! Thank you so much for having me." She handed me a bottle of cheap wine. "Vincenzo says you're being so understanding about everything."

Dinner was an exercise in torture. I watched as Kaiya fed Vincenzo from her fork, giggling at his every word while I pushed food around my plate. Our dog Max circled the table, sensing the tension.

"Oh, what a darling puppy!" Kaiya cooed, beckoning Max to her. She scratched behind his ears, then glanced at me with calculated innocence. "Maria, may I see your wedding ring? Vincenzo told me it's quite special."

Before I could respond, Vincenzo answered, "Of course she doesn't mind."

Reluctantly, I slipped off my ring—the platinum band with tiny diamonds that Vincenzo had placed on my finger five years ago, promising forever. Kaiya examined it with exaggerated interest before suddenly slipping it onto Max's collar.

"There! Now Max can be part of our fresh start too," she giggled, looking to Vincenzo for approval.

He laughed, actually laughed, as our dog trotted around with my wedding ring dangling from his collar. "Clever idea, darling. Out with the old, in with the new."

I watched in stunned silence as the symbol of our vows became a trinket for our pet. Something broke inside me then—not just my heart, but my illusions about who Vincenzo truly was.

The next morning, my assistant found me in Vincenzo's home office, methodically destroying the anniversary portrait I'd created. Canvas torn to shreds, frame splintered, months of work reduced to debris on the floor.

"Maria!" she gasped, rushing to my side. "What happened?"

I looked up at her, surprisingly calm now. "I'm taking back my art," I said simply. "And then I'm taking back my life."

She helped me clean the mess, not questioning when I explained my plan to stay temporarily while secretly preparing my escape. As we gathered the last fragments of canvas, I felt something I hadn't expected—not just grief, but the first spark of liberation.

Continue to next part

I was a brilliant scientist, but in my family, I was always the shadow to my perfect, manipulative sister, Jetta. On the day I was set to receive the prestigious Harrison Award, my family was only focused on her graduation party, dismissing my life's work as a mere hobby. That same day, I was brutally attacked in my own lab. The men who did it used Jetta's keycard and sneered that she sent them to "teach me a lesson" and put me in my place. Bleeding out on the cold floor, I made one last desperate call to my fiancé, Hayden. "Stop being so dramatic," he snapped before hanging up. "This is Jetta's big day. Don't you dare ruin it for attention." My mother came downstairs, saw nothing but a mess, and left a voicemail scolding me for being selfish. My soul ripped free from my body, forced to watch them celebrate. I saw the love in Hayden's eyes-not for me, but for Jetta. To them, my death was just another one of my "attention-seeking stunts." Now, as a ghost trapped in my own home, I watch them find my body and slowly piece together their neglect from my journal. But they've overlooked the one thing that will expose it all: the memory pendant around my neck, which recorded every horrifying second of the truth.

Horror Mafia Modern Romance

8.0

Addicted To My Genius Assassin Wife

8.0

My entire family was slaughtered three years ago by Alistair Kirkland, the usurper who stole the underworld throne. I was the only survivor. Smuggled out of New York as a child, I was trained in the shadows to become a flawless weapon. Now, at sixteen, I returned to the city that was supposed to be my graveyard. But the New York I returned to was a suffocating cage. Kirkland didn't just wipe out the Valenzuela bloodline; he branded my few surviving loyalists as traitors. He paraded my men down the streets in heavy iron chains, letting the very people we once protected hurl rocks at them. He bought the doctors, ensuring my wounded soldiers would bleed out in the dark. Even worse, the mother of my only ally—Julian Morgan—secretly sold us out to a Chicago warlord just to keep her archaic grip on power. I stood in the shadows, watching an eleven-year-old boy get his head smashed with a jagged stone just for defending his father's honor. How could the city my grandfather built cheer for our extermination? Why did the old guard prefer to cower and die in the dark rather than fight the monster who stole our home? "Ghosts don't knock on my door, Athena. What do you want?" Julian asked me. I tossed a blood-stained ledger of Kirkland's deepest secrets onto his desk. "I'm here to help you take back what's yours, and burn Alistair Kirkland's empire to the ground."

Action Mafia Modern

7.5

Divorcing the Don: And Then I Took Everything

7.5

For six years, Isabella Rossi used her family's immense wealth to save her husband's Mafia empire from bankruptcy while he fought on the front lines. Her reward? Don Damien Moretti returns with a mistress, a secret son, and a demand: Accept them, and keep paying the bills. He expects her to swallow her pride. Instead, Isabella closes her checkbook. She demands a divorce, cuts off their funding, and leaves his "glorious" empire to starve. But a Queen stepping down draws wolves. Enter Giovanni Falcone-the ruthless, untouchable King of the New York Underworld. He doesn't want her money; he wants her. Now, her ex-husband is begging for her back. But Isabella? She's too busy building her own empire-and watching his burn.

Mafia Modern Romance

7.1

Don't Cry Now, My Heartless Ex-Husband

7.1

The smell of leaking gasoline burned my nostrils, but the cold look in my husband's eyes hurt worse. Trapped in the overturned car, I watched Jacob reach in. He didn't reach for me, his wife. He unbuckled his mistress, Cassandra, shielding her head with a tenderness he never showed me. He walked away, leaving me to burn. I survived, but at a brutal cost. My right hand—the hand that played Chopin—was crushed into a useless claw. Jacob didn't apologize. Instead, he moved Cassandra into our home. He let her wear my diamonds, mock my injuries, and burn my sheet music. When I tried to expose her embezzlement, he called me unstable. To punish me for "betraying the family," he dug up my mother's grave and threw her ashes into the sea. That was the moment the wife died, and something else was born. He thought he had buried me under the weight of his cruelty. He didn't realize he had planted a seed. I staged my death and vanished into the snowy streets of Vienna. Five years later, I am a world-renowned composer, and Jacob is a ruined man in a wheelchair, begging for a forgiveness I no longer have the energy to give.

Mafia Modern Romance

9.1

Feral Desires(MxM)

9.1

WARNING This book contains mature scenes, explicit content, and potentially triggering themes. It is rated 18+ and is not suitable for readers under the age of 18. Reader discretion is advised. Claude Adams never wanted a mate-especially not her. As the Beta and son to the Alpha of the Rising Moon Pack, he knows fate isn't something to fight. But when he meets the she-wolf destined to be his, the bond feels all wrong. Suffocating. A trap he can't escape. So when a cryptic message meant for a human draws him onto a luxury cruise liner, he takes it as the perfect excuse to run. What he doesn't expect is Nikolai Vladimirovich-a ruthless Russian Mafia boss with a dangerous aura and a stare that strips Claude down to something raw. What starts as a reckless, meaningless fling turns into something neither of them can walk away from. But Claude isn't human. He was never meant to belong to Nikolai. And when the truth comes out, there will be no mercy. Because Nikolai doesn't share. And fate? It doesn't make mistakes.

Action LGBT+Mafia Werewolf

9.0

From Broken to Queen: The Rejected Luna's Rise

9.0

I shattered my knee jumping in front of a silver bullet meant for him. The poison seeped into my marrow, putting my wolf into a coma and leaving me crippled. I thought my sacrifice would secure his love forever. Instead, five years later, Brennan stood in a warehouse while a Rogue held a silver-laced dagger to my throat. Beside me sat Debbi, his mistress—a spy who had staged the whole kidnapping. "You can only save one," the kidnapper sneered. Brennan didn't even hesitate. He looked me in the eye, his gaze cold and devoid of the bond we once shared. "I choose Debbi," he said. He walked out with her in his arms, leaving his Fated Mate to bleed out on the concrete floor. As the blade dug into my skin, I felt the mate bond snap. He thought I died in the explosion that followed. He spent weeks howling in grief when he finally realized Debbi was a traitor and he had killed the only woman who truly loved him. But he was wrong. I didn't die. A federal agent pulled me from the fire, and the trauma didn't kill my wolf—it woke her up. A year later, Brennan walked into a small bistro in Italy, looking for redemption. He fell to his knees when he saw me standing there, healed and glowing with the aura of a White Wolf. "Alyssa," he wept, reaching for me. "I'm so sorry. I'll do anything." I looked him dead in the eye, my gaze icy blue. "Get out," I said. "We don't serve traitors here."

Mafia Romance Werewolf

Leaving Love for Freedom

Chapter 1

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