The Ex-Wife's Deal with the Devil
Kerri Coleman thought her worst nightmare was divorcing Liam Tate - Hollywood's hottest actor and the man she loved in secret.
But when she exposed their hidden marriage, the world didn't crown her his wife... it crucified her as his scandal. Betrayed, penniless, and hunted by Liam's furious fans, she had nowhere left to turn.
Until she met him.
Arlo Frantz. Infamous mafia boss. The man who claimed he could give her back everything she lost. Fame. Power. Revenge.
But his price wasn't money.
It was marriage.
Now, Kerri must decide: will she risk falling into another dangerous union just to destroy the man who ruined her... or will she lose herself to the devil who wants to own her heart?
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Chapter 1
A startled scream tore from my mouth when gunshots loudly echoed in the building, and before I knew it, me along with twenty others were forced to huddle in a corner while the masked men terrorized the bank tellers behind the glass walls with guns.
Not just any guns that you could buy from a gun store, it looked like they were military-grade. These people are not some small-time criminals but part of a larger syndicate, that's for sure.
We were all cowering with our heads facing down, but one unfortunate older man was pulled out of our huddle by his collar and was dragged violently until they were in front of the bank tellers, who refused to do anything behind their bulletproof glass wall.
"Open the vault! Open it or this person dies!"
These robbers are no joke, which means they could just shoot me right here without batting an eye and I won't be able to withdraw money to buy thirty-five cups of coffee.
"Kerri, stop it. Coffee is the least of your concern right now," My friend, Alina, whom I happened to meet here, somehow managed to read my thoughts, or perhaps it was all over my face.
The fear of being late to deliver his daily dose of caffeine, instead of the guns aimed at us.
"Open it!" They were growing impatient, so they shot the older man at his knees, tearing an ear-piercing scream from his mouth as he groveled on the floor in pain.
The rest of the hostages, including Alina, screamed out of fear but quickly forced themselves to quiet down when guns were pointed at us again. "Shut up!" one of the men yelled, threatening to shoot.
They needed a new hostage to instill urgency in the bank tellers, so the one who seemed to be the leader rushed towards us and, guess what?
He picked me.
The girl with blindingly bright blonde hair that sticks out like a sore thumb. He pulled me up by the hair so hard I almost thought that my scalp would get ripped out, so I winced in pain.
"You! Come here!" He angrily screamed, but when he saw my face, his eyes faltered and immediately released me from his brutal grip.
Something in his gaze flickered, almost washing away the aggressiveness he initially showed and was replaced with... no, not with the type of look as if he fell in love just because he saw my face. That is impossible, no one falls in love with a shabby woman like me.
It was more like – fear.
He was scared shitless after seeing my face, and not just him, but by the other robbers as well, when they began wondering why their leader froze, so they approached only to be stunned when they caught sight of me.
"Its her..." One of them whispered, instantly dropping their bank heist and rushing out the door in a hurry.
While the leader remained, still shocked at what he did that he stood there for another full minute with terrified eyes – as if the act of pulling me by my hair was the worst crime he did today.
"Boss! Lets go! The cops are here!"
One of his men pulled him away and escaped while the rest of us watched this unfold with confusion swimming in our trembling gazes.
Everything else that happened after that was a blur. I was questioned by the police about my experience because of the way the robbers reacted when seeing me, and they thought I was the wife of a powerful syndicate boss, which is ridiculous might I add.
For one, I have lived my entire twenty-five-year life quietly and peacefully, away from crimes or any suspicious organizations. I was an honor student, and never in my life have I smoked or drunk alcohol. I just work as an assistant, that's all.
Although, I would be lying if I said I was not a tad bit curious as to why they reacted that way, but I have other things to worry about right now. I am late, and coffee-less, which means...
"Fucking unbelievable." His voice thundered as soon as he saw me come into his dressing room, disheveled, and without the thing he asked me to buy.
"I'm sorry," I held my gaze down and bit on my lips, scared to meet his eyes because I knew seeing his disappointed look would only send me spiraling in guilt.
Should I tell him I was involved in a bank heist? Would he be worried and forget about the fact that I forgot his coffee?
I lift my head, hopeful, "Actually, I was..."
"Enough of your excuses already. Because of you, I'm late for the first scene," I was immediately shut down by his loud and annoyed groans, and I quickly lowered my gaze again, wincing at every word he shouted in my direction.
It is my fault. I was asked to buy coffee for everyone in the filming crew today. I was supposed to withdraw my savings from my bank to pay for everything, but instead, I came back late. I understand his anger. I should do better next time. In fact, why didn't I think of just paying for the coffee with my card? I'm so stupid, I just made him mad today.
"I'm sorry, I'll go and buy them now."
"Forget it! Filming starts in five minutes, anyway." He picked up his script and skimmed through everything, possibly already memorizing everything at just a glance. Then he looks at his reflection to recite the lines with such emotion that even I felt honored to see him practice.
The man sitting in front of the large vanity mirror right now is Liam Tate, the new rising actor who has been dominating the industry ever since his debut thanks to his amazingly good looks and charm.
And I am Kerri Coleman, his wife, his secret wife.
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8.5
"And that is the reason why I said those words. I like your fear, not because it is a normal thing. I love it because deep down you are a monster like me, schiava. You fear me on a primal level, you can feel my power and dominance, and you know you aren't the strongest here. So you don't fear Renzo Valentino the human, you fear the monster that lurks inside."
My life changed the night of my birthday. What started as a funny dare ended with blood and having a price on my head.
I thought Renzo was the hero who saved me that night, but he was the devil who owned me forever.
I, Misha Yakov, princess of the Russian mafia became Renzo Valentino's slave.
He broke me, tortured me, and molded me into something new, something I hated and craved at the same time.
I, Misha Yakov became my master's pet.
8.5
Delphine Yenla has learned one thing the hard way; love doesn't just hurt, it breaks you in ways you don't recover from. So she stopped believing in it. She chose independence, control, and a life where no one could get close enough to hurt her again.
And for a while, it worked.
Until Wilson Dan walked into her world.
Cold, composed, and impossible to read, Wilson is the kind of man who never loses control. He does not get involved. He does not make mistakes. And he never lets anyone get close enough to matter.
But she doesn't realize... Wilson is not the kind of man you resist twice.
People don't challenge him.
Delphine does.
From their very first encounter, something shifts. The tension between them is immediate, sharp, unsettling, impossible to ignore. And from the moment he notices her, walking away stops being a choice. Every conversation feels like a quiet battle. Every glance lingers longer than it should. And the more they try to stay in control, the more everything begins to slip.
But this is not just about attraction.
There are things Wilson isn't saying.
Things Delphine is starting to notice.
And people around them who are already watching... and waiting.
What began as resistance quickly became something she cannot control.
Because this is not just about feelings.
It is about power. It is about position.
And Delphine may already be standing somewhere she doesn't understand,
somewhere she cannot simply walk away from.
Is she getting closer to Wilson...
or already too deep to step out?
When control finally breaks, one truth becomes impossible to ignore:
Some hearts don't just fall in love.
They fall into something they may not survive.
7.6
I spent fifteen years building my husband's mafia empire, coding the complex algorithms that washed his blood money clean.
But on my thirty-fifth birthday, instead of a gift, I received a photo of his hand resting on another woman's thigh.
When I confronted him, Dustin didn't apologize. He brought his pregnant mistress, Jami, into our penthouse and told me to accept the hush money.
"You have nothing except what I give you," he sneered, treating me like a slow servant rather than the mastermind behind his success.
The argument turned violent. He shoved me hard, sending me crashing into a solid oak nightstand.
As I lay on the floor, bleeding and dizzy from a split forehead, I watched the man I loved step over my body to comfort the woman wearing my mother's stolen heirloom ring.
He didn't check my pulse. He didn't call for help. He looked at me with pure disgust and turned his back.
In that moment, the wife died, and the witness was born.
He thought I was powerless because I had no assets in my name. He thought I would fade away quietly.
He forgot one crucial detail: I wasn't just the furniture in his castle. I was the architect.
Every server, every encrypted drive, every hidden account—I owned the code.
I wiped the blood from my face and walked out the door, but I didn't go to a lawyer.
I went to a hardware store and bought a ten-pound sledgehammer.
I wasn't going to just leave him.
I was going to delete him.
9.7
Blurb: She signed the divorce papers. He never signed away his obsession.
Veronica Stanford was the perfect wife-devoted, patient, and hopelessly in love. But when her billionaire husband, Jason Harper, trades her in for her treacherous best friend, Rhea, Veronica's world shatters. Broken and betrayed, she drowns her sorrows in a bar, only to be saved by a dangerously alluring stranger with emerald-green eyes and a lethal reputation: Monte "Four" Zagcanni, the ruthless heir to a mafia empire.
Four is everything Jason isn't-dark, dangerous, and devastatingly protective. When Veronica discovers she's pregnant with Jason's child, she strikes a deal with Four: a fake marriage to shield her from scandal. But what starts as a cold arrangement ignites into a passion neither can resist.
Jason, realizing his mistake too late, wants Veronica back-along with the son he never knew existed. But Four isn't a man who surrenders what's his. And Veronica? She's done being the meek wife.
Betrayal runs deep. Revenge burns hotter.
As secrets unravel-her father's bloody past, Rhea's twisted obsession, and Jason's deadly lies-Veronica must decide: trust the man who destroyed her once, or surrender to the devil who might destroy her forever.
One wants her back. The other wants her forever.
8.8
I spent three years hating Damien Castillo, the ruthless mafia Don who kidnapped me from my engagement party and ruined my reputation.
But in the end, it was my perfect fiancé, Julian, and my sweet half-sister, Sophia, who slipped the deadly poison into my wine.
As the venom burned through my veins in that freezing cellar, I watched Julian smile. He and Sophia had orchestrated my brutal death. She had been sleeping in his bed all along, intentionally miscarrying his bastard child just to frame me as 'impure' and strip me of my family's protection. My own father used me as a political pawn, letting them throw me away like garbage.
And Damien? The monster I had fought and despised for years marched straight into a suicide ambush for me. He was riddled with bullets, turning his body into a human shield just to buy me a few more seconds of life.
"Touch her and you die."
I died in that blood-soaked basement, clutching his lifeless body, suffocating on my own blind trust. Why did I ever believe the golden boy who betrayed me? Why did I fight the only man who truly loved me?
Opening my eyes again, the stench of copper and mold was gone, replaced by the scent of Cuban cigars and black silk.
I was back in 1928, on the exact night Damien stormed my engagement party and locked me in his penthouse.
This time, when the ruthless Don approached me, I didn't scream or run back to my killers. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him.
8.3
I was staring at the two pink lines on the plastic stick, trembling with the terrifying joy of carrying the heir to the New York underworld’s most ruthless faction.
Then the intercom buzzed, and a voice splintered my world.
"The little art student actually thinks I'm going to marry her? It was just a game to pass the time while you were in Europe, Estella."
I froze.
My boyfriend, Holden, was in the next room, laughing with the daughter of his rival.
He explained that I was just a "clean civilian image" he needed to secure a business deal. Now that the deal was signed, he was dumping the "stray" to marry the "Queen."
I tried to run, but freedom only lasted forty-eight hours.
Holden didn't just break my heart; he turned my terror into content.
He kidnapped me, tied me to a chair at the edge of a cliff, and forced me to choose between my life and his new fiancée's.
Then, he pushed me off the edge.
As gravity snatched me, I heard him laughing.
I landed on a stunt airbag. It was just a "social experiment." A sick prank for his amusement.
"Don't be so dramatic, Kenia," he called down. "It's just a game."
He thought I was broken. He thought I was just a prop in his life.
But he forgot that I knew his secrets.
I dragged my injured body to a payphone and dialed the one number Holden told me to fear—the rival Don, Gael Simpson.
"It's Kenia," I whispered, clutching the receiver like a lifeline. "I'm calling in the debt."