My Mate Rejects Me For Her Sister's Mate

I'm Andrew, a wolf with "skin hunger".All I've ever craved is closeness. But for three cold years, my bonded mate Sophia, who's terrified of germs, only had eyes for Daniel, her sister Grace's mate. When I tried to get near her once, she sneered, "What, are you that desperate?" I found her workshop stuffed with Daniel's sculptures, and that's when I knew-I signed the bond-breaking papers . At an auction, I heard Daniel admit, "Sophia's my backup-she thinks I saved her." Then he had my vas deferens cut. Later, Sophia learned I was the one who'd saved her that day. When I bonded with my childhood friend Stella, Sophia begged, "Give me another chance!" I told her, "I don't love you anymore." Daniel attacked me, but Sophia took a dagger for me. Later, I got a letter from her: "Wishing you happiness." I hugged Stella tight-finally, I felt whole.

Chapters

Chapter 4

Sophia showered Daniel with a haul of collectibles worth a fortune, and he couldn't resist showing off to his buddies.

When he stepped out of the bathroom and saw me standing there, his face went pale, his phone clattering to the floor.

"You. you heard everything?"

I shot him a cold look and turned to leave.

Panic flashing in his eyes. He lunged forward, grabbing my arm. "You gonna run to Sophia and snitch? You think she'll believe you?"

I gripped my phone tighter, the recording burning a hole in my pocket. "If you're so sure she won't, why're you shaking?"

His eyes darted over my shoulder, and before I could react, he yanked my hand and slapped himself hard across the face.

He stumbled back, collapsing dramatically, clutching his cheek like I'd decked him.

"Andrew, I swear, there's nothing between me and Sophia. She just felt sorry for me, gave me a few nice things. I know I'm no match for a rich wolf like you. Don't be mad. I'll give it all back, I swear. I won't dare again."

Before I could process his act, Sophia's voice cut through.

"Daniel!"

She rushed over, shoving me aside.

I wasn't ready for it.My side slammed into the edge of the sink, pain shooting through me, my face draining of color.

I looked up, and there she was, helping Daniel to his feet, not caring about the grime he'd picked up from the floor. She fussed over him like he was fragile, precious.

Daniel played it up, pushing her hands away.

"Sophia, let go-don't let Andrew get the wrong idea."

She spun on me, her eyes like daggers. "Andrew, who gave you the right to throw punches?"

I clutched my side, pain throbbing. "I didn't-"

She laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. "I saw it with my own eyes. You gonna lie to my face?"

I opened my mouth to explain, but her icy glare stopped me cold. What was the point? She'd never believe me.

She grabbed Daniel's hand, pulling him away, her voice soft with concern. "I'm taking you to a healer."

Daniel leaned into her, glancing back at me with a smirk, mouthing, "You lose."

I swallowed the pain, limping downstairs to catch a cab to a healer for my side. But before I could even reach the street, two wolves jumped me.

A damp cloth clamped over my face, reeking of chemicals. My breath hitched, my vision blurred, and everything went black.

When I came to, I was in a strange room, hands and feet bound, slumped on the floor. One wolf stood over me, filming with his phone. Another stepped forward and cracked me across the face.

The sting burned, my head snapping to the side. He grabbed my collar, yanking me close.

"Who. who are you?" I rasped.

He sneered. "Andrew, you pissed off the wrong wolf."

Daniel's smug face flashed in my mind. Who else could it be?

Before I could speak, he hit me again. And again. My mouth filled with the taste of blood, my head spinning. I couldn't get a word out.

Just when I thought it was over, he grabbed my right hand. Dread coiled in my gut. A sickening crack echoed as he snapped my wrist.

I screamed, the sound tearing from my throat as I collapsed, twitching in agony.

As my vision faded, I heard one of them on the phone, voice respectful. "Sophia, the wolf who hurt Daniel's been dealt with."

Her voice came through, cool and familiar. "Good. Get him to a healer."

Tears slid down my face.

The one who broke me was my mate.

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The neurosurgeon looked at me with pity, delivering a diagnosis that severed seven years of devotion in a heartbeat. According to the scans, my husband, Dante Rizzoli, remembered how to strip a Glock blindfolded and launder millions. He just didn't remember loving me. Overnight, I went from being the cherished Mafia Princess to an unwanted stranger in my own penthouse. While I filled our home with his favorite lilies trying to spark a memory, Dante brought home Gia. She was loud, tacky, and draped over him like a cheap suit. The Capo had forgotten his wife, but he seemed to remember his lust perfectly fine. I swallowed the humiliation, clinging to the hope of his recovery, until I stood outside his office door with a tray of espresso. I heard his dark, amused laugh rumbling through the wood. "The amnesia is the most useful card I've ever played," Dante told his soldier. "It buys me time to enjoy Gia without the family breathing down my neck. Elena is a boring, safe relic. I need fire, not a porcelain doll." My heart didn't race. It stopped. The medical anomaly was a lie. He hadn't forgotten me; he was just done with me. I set the tray down silently. I wasn't going to wait for him to remember anymore. I walked out of the penthouse and dialed a number I hadn't used in years. "Get the new ID ready," I whispered into the phone. "Elena Vitiello dies tonight. Livia Moretti leaves at dawn."

Mafia Modern Romance

9.1

His biker girl, Her biker prince

9.1

He lifted his hand and brushed a strand of hair from my face, fingers grazing too gently. I snapped, "How many times do I have to tell you not to touch me?" His mouth curved, the faintest smirk. "You walked in here looking like a fucking temptation. And you think I'm not supposed to touch?" I tilted my chin, refusing to back down. "Funny. I thought you said I didn't look good." He leaned closer, voice low, eyes burning through me. "You don't look good. You look dangerous." My chest tightened, heat crawling under my skin. I rolled my eyes, masking the pull I refused to admit. "Get lost," I muttered, shoving against him. "You're mine, Tessa," ****** His Biker Girl | swore l'd never get tangled up with bikers. Then I met him. Jason "Viper" Kane, the ruthless prince of the Black Serpents. Arrogant. Untouchable. Dangerous. Every girl on campus wants him, but not me. He thought I'd be easy to break. He was wrong. Her Biker Prince She's fire wrapped in leather, and every time she rides, she tempts me closer to the edge. Tessa Monroe, bold, defiant, impossible to control. I wanted to crush her pride, ruin that ego, make her beg. But the more I chase her, the more I burn. She's the one thing I shouldn't want. And the only thing l'll never let go.

Action Mafia Young Adult

7.8

Not For Sale: The Debt Is Paid

7.8

Seven years. That was the price tag attached to my father's life. When my father gambled away money he didn't have, Michael Vance paid the debt. He bought my father's safety, and in return, he bought me. I was nineteen then. A peasant girl he polished up to look like a mob wife. I was reapplying my lipstick in the vanity mirror of his armored SUV when I found a diamond choker tucked behind the sunshade. It was a million-dollar piece of jewelry that wasn't mine, engraved with a date that wasn't my birthday. That night at the gala, Michael threw his mistress's heavy fur coat at me. "Hold this, Sarah. Jessica gets hot easily." I stood there like a servant, buried under the scent of another woman’s perfume, watching my fiancé hold her on the dance floor with a tenderness he never showed me. When I stumbled from hunger, he called me a liability to his image. But when Jessica faked a crisis, he abandoned me at the venue to rush her home. I walked to the nearest trash can and shoved the expensive fur down past the half-eaten caviar. As the sugar from a cheap candy bar hit my bloodstream, the fog lifted. I realized I wasn't a wife-in-training. I was a debt that had been paid in full. I left the penthouse, the ring, and the life. But Michael wouldn't let his property go. He cornered me in a parking garage, screaming that I belonged to him, threatening to start a war. He didn't expect me to be standing next to David Chen, the Underboss of the rival Triad faction. And he certainly didn't expect me to take off my Louboutin stiletto and use it as a weapon. "I don't love you, Michael," I said, looking him in the eye as he knelt on the concrete. "And I'm not for sale anymore."

Mafia Modern Romance

9.2

Reborn As The Devil's Bride

9.2

After a sudden death, Elena awakens as the wife of the city's most feared mafia boss. Trapped in a marriage she never asked for, she must navigate a world of violence and betrayal. Her new husband is a cold, lethal predator, yet a dangerous attraction begins to pull them together. As secrets from her past emerge, Elena has to decide if she will escape the devil’s grasp or embrace her new life as the queen of his dark empire.

Action Mafia Romance

7.3

Rising From Wreckage: Starfall's Epic Comeback

7.3

Rain hammered against the asphalt as my sedan spun violently into the guardrail on the I-95. Blood trickled down my temple, stinging my eyes, while the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers mocked my panic. Trembling, I dialed my husband, Clive. His executive assistant answered instead, his voice professional and utterly cold. "Mr. Wilson says to stop the theatrics. He said, and I quote, 'Hang up. Tell her I don't have time for her emotional blackmail tonight.'" The line went dead while I was still trapped in the wreckage. At the hospital, I watched the news footage of Clive wrapping his jacket around his "fragile" ex-girlfriend, Angelena, shielding her from the storm I was currently bleeding in. When I returned to our penthouse, I found a prenatal ultrasound in his suit pocket, dated the day he claimed to be on a business trip. Instead of an apology, Clive met me with a sneer. He told me I was nothing but an "expensive decoration" his father bought to make him look stable. He froze my bank accounts and cut off my cards, waiting for the hunger to drive me back to his feet. I stared at the man I had loved for four years, realizing he didn't just want a wife; he wanted a prop he could switch off. He thought he could starve me into submission while he played father to another woman's child. But Clive forgot one thing. Before I was his trophy wife, I was Starfall-the legendary voice actress who vanished at the height of her fame. "I'm not jealous, Clive. I'm done." I grabbed my old microphone and walked out. I'm not just leaving him; I'm taking the lead role in the biggest saga in Hollywood-the one Angelena is desperate for. This time, the "decoration" is going to burn his world down.

Mafia Modern Romance

8.2

The Canary Who Learned To Fly

8.2

I died on a Tuesday. It wasn't a quick death. It was slow, cold, and meticulously planned by the man who called himself my father. I was twenty years old. He needed my kidney to save my sister. The spare part for the golden child. I remember the blinding lights of the operating theater, the sterile smell of betrayal, and the phantom pain of a surgeon's scalpel carving into my flesh while my screams echoed unheard. I remember looking through the observation glass and seeing him—my father, Giovanni Vitiello, the Don of the Chicago Outfit—watching me die with the same detached expression he used when signing a death warrant. He chose her. He always chose her. And then, I woke up. Not in heaven. Not in hell. But in my own bed, a year before my scheduled execution. My body was whole, unscarred. The timeline had reset, a glitch in the cruel matrix of my existence, giving me a second chance I never asked for. This time, when my father handed me a one-way ticket to London—an exile disguised as a severance package—I didn't cry. I didn't beg. My heart, once a bleeding wound, was now a block of ice. He didn't know he was talking to a ghost. He didn't know I had already lived through his ultimate betrayal. He also didn't know that six months ago, during the city's brutal territory wars, I was the one who saved his most valuable asset. In a secret safe house, I stitched up the wounds of a blinded soldier, a man whose life hung by a thread. He never saw my face. He only knew my voice, the scent of vanilla, and the steady touch of my hands. He called me Sette. Seven. For the seven stitches I put in his shoulder. That man was Dante Moretti. The Ruthless Capo. The man my sister, Isabella, is now set to marry. She stole my story. She claimed my actions, my voice, my scent. And Dante, the man who could spot a lie from a mile away, believed the beautiful deception because he wanted it to be true. He wanted the golden girl to be his savior, not the invisible sister who was only ever good for her spare parts. So I took the ticket. In my past life, I fought them, and they silenced me on an operating table. This time, I will let them have their perfect, gilded lie. I will go to London. I will disappear. I will let Seraphina Vitiello die on that plane. But I will not be a victim. This time, I will not be the lamb led to slaughter. This time, from the shadows of my exile, I will be the one holding the match. And I will wait, with the patience of the dead, to watch their entire world burn. Because a ghost has nothing to lose, and a queen of ashes has an empire to gain.

Horror Mafia Mystery

My Mate Rejects Me For Her Sister's Mate

Chapter 4

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