Rejected by the Mafia Don, Claimed by His Rival

For eight years, I was raised to be his queen. My entire world was built on the promise that I would marry Dante Moretti, the future Don of the city's most powerful family. But on the eve of our betrothal, I overheard his plan. He was going to cast me aside for another woman, Isabella, and a street orphan he would pass off as his heir. He publicly humiliated me at his party, introducing her as his true queen. When a crystal chandelier fell from the ceiling, he used his own body to shield her, leaving me to be crushed beneath it. Later, after falsely accusing me of attacking her, he shoved my head under the freezing water of a pool, hissing that my love for him was "disgusting." But the truth that finally destroyed me was worse. For ten years, Dante had been obsessed with a scent he thought was mine. It was all a lie—a custom perfume Isabella had been wearing all along. I was never the one he wanted; I was just a case of mistaken identity. After he broke my bones and shattered my spirit, I finally made a choice. I accepted my brother's offer to escape to the rival Falcone territory. As our jet prepared for takeoff, I blocked Dante's frantic calls without looking back. This time, I was leaving for good.

Chapters

Chapter 2

Alessia POV:

The text I'd sent back, "Yes, my Don," was a mask. A shield of cold, hollow compliance I was only just learning how to wear. I knew it would unsettle him more than any tears or accusations.

And it did.

Days later, the entire Moretti estate buzzed with preparations for Dante's own birthday party-the event he had chosen for my public execution. He paraded Isabella around the city, buying her jewels and clothes, a public spectacle for the entire underworld to witness. The whispers followed me everywhere; the pitying glances, the smirks. I ignored them. I was a ghost in my own home, my spirit already packing its bags.

The night of the party, I dressed in a simple, pale dress. No jewelry. No artifice. I was a blank canvas, wiped clean of the vibrant colors of hope and love I once wore for him.

When Dante made his grand entrance, the room fell silent. He stood there, a king in his domain, with Isabella clinging to his arm. She was beautiful, all sharp angles and predatory grace. At her side stood a small, quiet child with wide, vacant eyes. His heir.

Dante's gaze swept the room and landed on me. I saw a flicker of something in his eyes-not guilt, but a strange disquiet. He expected a scene. He expected me to be a broken, weeping mess.

I gave him a placid smile.

He strode towards me, the crowd parting before him like the Red Sea. He stopped, towering over me, his presence a physical weight.

"Alessia," he said, his voice smooth as polished steel. "I'd like you to meet Isabella. My chosen woman." He gestured to the child. "And this is my son. My heir."

They were daggers, each word meant to kill a part of me. I refused to let them draw blood.

I dipped into a graceful, formal curtsy, my eyes lowered in a perfect picture of submission. I addressed not him, but her.

"It is an honor," I said, my voice even and clear. "My future Mafia Queen."

Isabella's perfectly painted lips curved into a triumphant smile. She hadn't expected this, either. She'd wanted a fight.

"How gracious of you, Alessia," she purred, her voice dripping with false sympathy. She leaned in, the cloying scent of her cheap perfume an invasion. "You must come to our official union ceremony next month. It would mean so much to Dante."

I raised my head, my gaze finally meeting Dante's. His eyes were dark, searching, trying to decipher the new, empty landscape of my face. He found nothing.

"I would be honored to attend," I replied, my voice a hollow echo.

Continue to next part

Five years earlier, to get her boyfriend out of a big problem, she agreed to become a surrogate mother for a rich man to get enough money. But last, betrayed by her boyfriend and best friend, and found out she wasn't the true daughter of her parents. Last, Daphne agreed to get married to the ugliest man in Stafford City. * "Don't worry, I'll protect you from now on." The adorable 5-year-old Brian said to Daphne. But why does she feel like she has known these boys for a long time? What will life be like with the ugly dwarf husband in the future?

Mafia Modern Romance

8.0

From Tortured Wife To Mafia Queen

8.0

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.

Mafia Modern Romance

7.6

He Faked Death, I Married The Don

7.6

I was arranging white lilies on the cold marble of my husband's grave when I saw a ghost. Walking through the cemetery gates was a man who looked exactly like my dead husband, Dante. Logic said it was his twin brother, Matteo. But a wife knows the slope of a man's shoulders. She knows the arrogant tilt of his chin. My husband hadn't been blown up in a car bomb three years ago. He had faked his death to steal his brother's rank, his fortune, and his mistress. For three years, I had forced our son, Leo, to kiss a photograph goodnight. We lived in a damp, peeling apartment, surviving on the "charity" of the Family. Meanwhile, Dante was living in a mansion, driving cars that cost more than my life, playing house with another woman. When he came to our cramped apartment to drop off the monthly "pension" money, pretending to be Uncle Matteo, he didn't look at me with love. He looked at his watch. When Leo ran to hug him, shouting "Papa," Dante peeled the boy's small arms off his expensive suit like he was removing a piece of lint. "Don't call me that," he snapped. "I am your Uncle." My grief turned into ice. He chose another woman's comfort over his own son's hunger. I grabbed Leo's hand and walked out the door. "You walk away, and you get nothing!" Dante shouted after me. "You'll be on the street!" I didn't stop. I walked straight to the black SUV idling at the curb. The window rolled down, revealing Salvatore Vitiello. The Don. The most lethal man in the city. "Get in, Elena," he commanded. I opened the door and slid onto the leather seat next to the devil himself. As we drove away, leaving my husband in the dust, I realized I had just traded a liar for a killer. And I didn't regret it for a second.

Mafia Modern Romance

9.4

HIS TO DESTROY

9.4

For years, Elena has lived in the shadow of the Italian mafia, bound by a debt she never chose. When she is handed over to the ruthless Dante Moretti to settle her family's sins, her world turns into a gilded cage. Dante is a man driven by vengeance, intending to break the girl who represents his enemy. However, as blood spills and secrets emerge, the line between hatred and obsession blurs, sparking a dangerous fire that may consume them both.

Action Mafia Romance

7.8

Shadows of the Moon Bond: Sold to the Alpha Don's Fated Rejection

7.8

Elena Voss was sold like a debt receipt. Her greedy aunt and uncle handed her over to Damien Blackthorn-New York's untouchable billionaire tech mogul by day, ruthless Mafia Don and Alpha of the Blackthorn Pack by night-to settle a family debt they never asked her to pay. The moment their eyes met in that rain-soaked alley, the fated mate bond ignited like wildfire. For one reckless night, he claimed her body and soul, whispering "mine" against her skin while the Moon Goddess sealed their destiny. Then came the betrayal. On their first anniversary, he paraded his pureblood fiancée through their penthouse, let her kneel for him in the study while Elena watched from the shadows, and divorced her in front of the entire pack. "Wolfless trash," he snarled. "You were never more than payment." Heart in pieces and two tiny heartbeats growing inside her, Elena fled. She vanished into Seattle's gray drizzle, changed her name, cut her hair, and built a quiet life as a single mother. She swore the Blackthorn name would never touch her twins-Leo and Luna, the secret heirs he didn't even know existed. Five years later, the children's first uncontrolled shifts rip through their small apartment like lightning. The only place that can teach them control and keep them hidden from rival packs is back in New York-back under Damien's shadow. The Alpha Don who once threw her away is now obsessed. The fated bond never died; it only waited. He feels her every laugh, every tear, every protective growl she gives their children. He'll burn his empire, his alliances, and his pride to drag her back. But Elena isn't the broken girl he discarded anymore. She's a mother with claws. A luna who learned to bite. And this time, if he wants her forgiveness, he'll have to beg on his knees. Pregnancy. Divorce. Secret babies. Billionaire alpha. Mafia power plays. Revenge that burns slow and sweet. Some bonds can't be broken. Some rejections come with claws. And some second chances are paid for in blood.

Mafia Modern Werewolf

7.6

NOT YOURS TO LOSE, EX-HUSBAND

7.6

My ex-husband, Reese Beaumont, sent me divorce papers on our anniversary, five years after I walked down the aisle to join him. I signed them with a red lipstick and sent them back to him, with a short note which read: "I am not going to give you the liberty of thinking you still own me." Now, one year later, he is standing in my office, the smug look in his eyes gone, and for some reason, still wearing our wedding ring. "You're still mine, Roxanne. You didn't sign the divorce papers, and you seem to forget that you're nothing without me." A soft chuckle escape my lips, right as my fake fiancé walks in, holding our one-year-old son. The son Reese never knew I was pregnant with. "Funny," I mutter. "Because I don't remember you being in control of the game." Now, he's everywhere, showing up at my gallery and outbidding my fake fiancé at my auctions. Telling the media we are on the road to reconciliation. But I am not the same woman who cried for him one year ago. I am the woman he never expected to walk out the door. And the one he'll always regret letting go.

Mafia Modern Romance

Rejected by the Mafia Don, Claimed by His Rival

Chapter 2

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