She Jumped: The Mafia King's Eternal Regret

I spent five years protecting Grafton Mcleod, the ruthless King of Chicago. Not because I loved him, but because I swore a blood oath to his dying brother to keep him alive. On the day my contract ended, I placed my resignation on his desk. Grafton didn't just refuse it; he laughed. "You don't resign, Cayla. You belong to me." He thought I was a jealous, obsessed assistant in love with him. He let his cruel fiancée, Cherrelle, torment me daily. He forced me to drain my own blood to save her after she faked an accident. He threw me into a freezing fountain when she lied about me pushing her. But the final straw came when he dragged me to a syndicate gala. He didn't take me as a guest. He put me on stage, in a silk dress and a collar, and sold me to his enemy for five million dollars. "This is what happens to property that misbehaves," he sneered as the gavel came down. I escaped that night, but I didn't run away. I drove to the bridge where his brother died. I left my phone on the railing and let the icy water take me, finally free of my debt. It was only when Grafton stood on that bridge, holding my cracked phone, that he learned the truth. He unlocked it and saw my wallpaper. It wasn't him. It was his dead brother. And the diary inside revealed that the woman he was about to marry was the one who had ordered the hit that killed him.

Chapters

Chapter 2

Cayla POV

I woke up to the acrid sting of antiseptic and the rhythmic, monotonous beeping of a machine.

My head felt like it had been cleaved in two with an axe.

I forced my eyes open.

Grafton was standing at the foot of the bed.

He wasn't looking at me with concern.

He was looking at me with a cold, simmering fury.

"You reckless bitch," he spat.

I blinked, trying to clear the heavy fog clouding my vision.

"I... I won."

"You totaled a three-hundred-thousand-dollar McLaren," he said, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous octave. "And you embarrassed me in front of the Triads. A woman driving my car?"

He gripped the bed rail, his knuckles turning white from the pressure.

"Did you think playing the hero would make me want you? Is that it?"

The accusation hit harder than the airbag had.

"I did it to save your life," I rasped, my throat feeling like it was lined with sandpaper.

"You did it for attention," he corrected icily. "You're obsessed, Cayla. It's pathetic."

He leaned in, his expensive musk cologne mixing nauseatingly with the smell of hospital bleach.

"Let me be clear. I will never love you. You are a tool. A useful one, but merely a tool."

I stared blankly at the ceiling.

I didn't cry.

I had no tears left for him.

"Get out," I said.

Grafton looked surprised by my defiance.

I never spoke back.

Before he could respond, his phone rang.

His expression softened instantly, a transformation so jarring it made my chest ache.

"Cherrelle? Baby, are you okay?"

He listened, nodding intently.

"I'm coming. Don't move."

He hung up and looked at me with renewed annoyance.

"Cherrelle twisted her ankle getting out of the spectator stand. I have to go."

"She twisted her ankle," I repeated flatly, disbelief coloring my tone. "I have a concussion and three broken ribs."

"She's delicate," he said, turning his back on me without hesitation. "You're... durable."

With that, he walked out.

I lay there for an hour.

No nurse came.

Grafton must have ordered them to prioritize the VIP suite upstairs.

I needed water. Desperately.

I tried to sit up, and the room spun violently.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed.

My knees buckled the moment they took my weight.

I crashed to the floor, my IV line ripping out, blood spattering across the cold linoleum.

I dragged myself to the door, gasping for air, every breath sending shards of glass through my ribs.

I just wanted to find a nurse.

I looked down the hallway.

The door to the VIP suite was ajar.

I saw them.

Cherrelle was sitting on the bed, her foot propped up on a fluffed pillow.

There was not a scratch on her.

Grafton was sitting in a chair next to her.

He was holding a knife and an apple.

He carefully peeled the skin in one long, continuous strip, his movements precise and mesmerizing.

He sliced a piece and fed it to her.

His face was tender.

Gentle.

I had never seen him look like that.

He was capable of love.

Just not for me.

I pulled myself up using the doorframe, gritting my teeth against the agony, and limped back to my bed.

I discharged myself three hours later, signing the forms with a shaking hand.

I limped to the elevator, holding my ribs.

The doors slid open.

Grafton was pushing Cherrelle in a wheelchair.

She saw me, and her eyes narrowed into slits.

"Oh, look, Grafton. She's walking. I told you she was faking it."

Cherrelle stood up from the wheelchair-miraculously healed-and took a step toward me.

Then, with a calculated smirk, she threw herself backward.

She landed on the carpet with a theatrical scream.

"She pushed me! Grafton, she pushed me!"

It was so absurd, so obviously fake.

But Grafton didn't see logic.

He saw red.

He slammed me against the wall.

My head cracked against the plaster, the impact sickeningly loud, reopening the wound from the crash.

Warm blood trickled down my neck.

"Touch her again," Grafton growled, his forearm pressing crushing weight against my throat, "and I will kill you myself."

He scooped Cherrelle up in his arms, treating her like fragile glass.

He stepped over me as I slid down the wall.

He didn't look back.

Continue to next part

They killed her father. Now she's racing straight into the heart of enemy territory. Mia Chen has one rule, never let them see your face. As the underground racing legend "Ghost Rider," she's untouchable until a rigged race tears off her mask and exposes her identity to the worst possible person. Dax Steele, VP of the Iron Wolves MC, the club that bankrupted her father and drove him to an early grave. Now she owes $50,000 to men who don't accept apologies, and Dax offers her a deal she can't refuse, race for the Iron Wolves in the inter-club championship, and he'll clear her debt. But working for her enemy means living in his world, sleeping under his roof, and discovering that everything she believed about her father's death might be a lie. Dax has secrets of his own, evidence that his father was framed, and the real culprit is still out there. He needs Mia's skills on the track and her mechanical genius in the garage. What he doesn't need is the fire she ignites in his blood every time she defies him. As they dig deeper into the past, attraction sparks into something dangerous. Because in the biker world, loyalty is everything and loving your enemy could get you both killed. She came for revenge. She stayed for the truth. She'll risk everything for him.

Action Mafia Mystery

7.6

Conquering The Cold Zillionaire Surgeon Heiress

7.6

When the Pollard family kicked Alyssa out into the freezing rain, Walter threw a ten-thousand-dollar check into a dirty puddle. "Take it and get out. Don't ever come back," he sneered. Her adoptive mother and stepsister stood on the mansion's porch, mocking her as a worthless country girl who tarnished their wealthy name. They laughed, claiming she wouldn't even be able to afford community college and would be begging on the streets in a week. They looked at her cheap clothes and worn backpack with absolute disgust. They were completely unaware that for the past five years, Alyssa was the secret mastermind who had built their failing gallery into a multi-million-dollar investment empire. Every key investment, every fortune they made, came from the anonymous notes she had slipped into their unread books. They genuinely believed they were business geniuses, while treating the true architect of their wealth like a stray dog. Looking at their smug, arrogant faces, Alyssa didn't feel a shred of sadness, only a cold, sharp irony. They actually believed they had raised her. She stepped close, whispered the master code to Walter's most secret offshore account, and watched the blood completely drain from his face. "I raised you," she said, turning her back on the mansion without hesitation. Walking into the storm, she pulled out a heavily encrypted phone and gave a single, cold order. "Initiate a full hostile takeover of the Pollard Group." It was time to end this little game and step into her true life—as the world's most elusive medical genius, and the long-lost billionaire heiress of the Summers dynasty.

Billionaire Mafia Modern

9.5

His Ruthless Claim

9.5

Isla Rivera's mistake was being too good at her job. When she uncovers money laundering at Vitale Imports, she becomes the captive of Dante Vitale - a dangerous mafia don who needs her forensic accounting skills to find the traitor stealing from his empire. The deal is simple: find who's taken fifty million, or lose everything she loves. But nothing about Dante is simple. Behind the ruthless exterior is a man who never chose this life, who protects innocents even as he rules a world built on blood and power. A man whose dark eyes see straight through Isla's defenses, awakening a desire she never expected to feel for her captor. As Isla unravels a conspiracy buried deep inside Dante's own family, the professional arrangement turns personal. Every heated glance, every stolen moment in his penthouse pulls them closer, blurring the line between fear and forbidden attraction. When she uncovers the truth - the enemy is someone Dante once trusted - the stakes explode. Now Isla must choose between walking away safely, or standing beside the dangerous man who has claimed both her heart and her fate. Because she's no longer just his prisoner. She's his partner. And some bonds are forged in fire, loyalty... and love. Mafia Romance • Enemies to Lovers • Forced Proximity • Dark Romance • HEA Guarantee

Action Mafia Romance

8.1

Mi ÁNGEL

8.1

In the dangerous world of organized crime, a high-stakes romance unfolds between two souls from different sides of the law. When a ruthless mafia leader crosses paths with a woman who seems like an angel in his dark reality, their lives collide with explosive consequences. Amidst brutal power struggles and internal betrayals, they must navigate a landscape of violence. Can love survive the shadows of the underworld, or will their secrets destroy them both?

Action Mafia Romance

7.1

Reborn, I Wed the Untamed Playboy

7.1

On my wedding day to Julian Moretti, the future Mafia Don, I was deliberately sent to the wrong penthouse. My half-sister Sofia had crawled into my fiancé's bed, leaving me to be discovered by the family's exiled, alcoholic cousin. In my past life, I was shattered by this orchestrated betrayal. I cried and begged when Julian publicly humiliated me, choosing his illegitimate mistress over his rightful bride. I played the perfect, dignified Mafia wife for years. I swallowed his insults, ignored his infidelities, and accepted my ruined reputation to keep the peace. But my blind obedience only paved the way for my murder. Julian discarded me, and I was poisoned to death so Sofia could steal my crown as the Mafia Queen. Until my agonizing last breath, I didn't understand. I had honored our families' blood alliance flawlessly. Why was I the sacrificial lamb while they were rewarded for their treason? Opening my eyes again, I was back on the dark leather sofa, suffocating in my heavy silk wedding dress. This time, I didn't shed a single tear. I grabbed a heavy brass letter opener, marched straight into the Don's main study, and slapped the Underboss across the face in front of the entire family. "A Valdez woman does not share her husband," I declared coldly. "To honor the alliance, I will marry Dante." If they wanted to make my humiliation a fact, I was going to make it a funeral.

Mafia Modern Romance

8.6

Sinful Contract with Alpha Callisto

8.6

After being rejected by her beta husband, who humiliated and rejected her Luna's position with his true mate right after taking over the pack, Cassandra knew she needed to come out of this marriage to save her dignity. For that, she chose to seek the help of the strongest alpha in return for training his female soldiers. She entered into a contract in return for help, but who would've known this contract with the most dangerous alpha would be the biggest sin of her life, questioning her morals? "When you are in my pack, you need to smell like one of ours," Alpha Callisto whispered before pushing her against the wall with his body pressing hard into her. "But Alpha, that wasn't the part of the deal!!" Cassandra squealed, her breathing heavy in nervousness. How could he think of doing something like this to a married woman? "Well, poor you, I forgot to mention I don't follow the rules," He said before biting into her neck, right beside her mark. Will Cassandra get back her pack with the help of this sinister alpha, utterly unaware that he was the same alpha she slept with all those years ago? Will the alpha help her, or would she just be tortured in his sinful ways because of the way she stole not only his virginity but his sense of smell, too?

Mafia Romance Werewolf

She Jumped: The Mafia King's Eternal Regret

Chapter 2

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