The Mob's Bride
I was Ava Hudson, the future daughter-in-law of a prominent councilman in the city of Windhaven.
My fiancé, Leo Kennedy, was a celebrated rising star in politics, admired by all.
But deep in his heart, he harbored a love for a woman named Isabella Fuller, his untouchable ideal.
Now, the notorious crime lord Alessandro Marcello had declared his intent to marry Isabella.
I overheard Leo's chilling voice from outside the study.
Send Ava to him. No matter how ruthless he is, would he dare touch the councilman's future daughter-in-law?"
I followed his plan and married into the Marcello family.
Later, it was Leo who lost his mind.
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Chapter 2
Leo froze, clearly unprepared for my swift agreement.
He cupped my face, his eyes a mix of wild joy and guilt. "Ava, I knew you'd understand, that you love me the most."
He leaned to kiss me, but I turned my head, and his lips grazed my forehead.
It was cold.
Leo's movement stilled, then he pulled me into a tighter embrace. "Wait for me. I'll bring you back in style, and we'll have the grandest wedding."
I didn't respond.
Something inside me had died the moment I heard his words.
Over the next few days, Leo treated me better than ever.
He canceled all his engagements, came home on time, ate dinner with me, watched movies, like the most devoted couple.
He bought me jewelry I'd glanced at once, purchased a painting I liked, even cooked my favorite truffle pasta himself.
He fumbled in the kitchen, sauce staining his white shirt.
I leaned against the door, watching him, my mind drifting back to when we first met.
Back then, he'd done the same, secretly learning to cook for my birthday surprise, only to make a mess of himself.
The pasta he served was so salty it was bitter.
I ate every bite.
Because he said, "Ava, I want to cook for you forever."
The memory surged, a sharp thorn piercing my heart.
Leo brought the pasta over, presenting it like a prize. "Try it. My skills have improved a lot."
I picked up the fork, twirling a small bite.
The familiar taste held none of the sweetness from back then.
"Is it good?" he asked, watching me eagerly.
"Leo," I set the fork down, "does Isabella like truffles too?"
His smile froze.
The air turned heavy.
After a long pause, he spoke, his voice strained. "Ava, don't do this."
"Do what?" I met his gaze, calm. "I'm just curious if your true love shares my taste."
His face darkened. "She's not like you."
Of course not.
Isabella was the moon in the sky, radiant and untouchable, his unreachable dream.
I was just mud on the ground, easily trampled, easily discarded.
That night, he didn't stay.
In the middle of the night, my phone rang with an unknown number.
It was Isabella.
Her voice carried a false tremor, as if mimicking the pity of a victor. "Ava, are you asleep? Sorry for calling so late."
She paused, savoring my silence. "Leo told me everything. He had to sacrifice you to protect me. He's hurting too, so please don't resent him."
Her tone brimmed with barely concealed triumph.
I let out a cold laugh and hung up.
Then I blocked the number for good.
A man I no longer wanted, she treated like a treasure.
My wedding to Leo was set just two days before Alessandro and Isabella's.
How ironic.
Leo's plan was to send me to Alessandro's car on our wedding day.
Meanwhile, he would whisk Isabella away, escaping the storm.
When Alessandro realized the bride was switched, he'd hold back out of respect for the councilman's name.
And Leo would swoop in, a hero rescuing me from "danger."
A perfect plan, saving his love and keeping me in his grasp.
On the wedding day, the sky was clear blue.
I sat before the mirror in my white gown.
Leo entered, dismissing everyone else.
He hugged me from behind, fastening a diamond necklace around my neck.
"Ava, you're beautiful," he said, kissing my cheek. "I'm sorry for this. Remember, no matter what happens, don't be afraid. Tell them you're Leo Kennedy's fiancée."
I looked at myself in the mirror, and the handsome man behind me.
A perfect match, a picture of harmony.
To outsiders, we were the ideal couple.
But only I knew the filthy scheming beneath this polished facade.
"Leo," I said, my voice steady, "have you ever loved me?"
His body stiffened.
After a long moment, he sighed. "Of course. Ava, I love you."
But that love crumbled before Isabella.
I said nothing more.
The assistant knocked. "Sir, it's almost time."
Leo gave me one last look, his eyes unreadable. "Wait for me."
He turned and left without a trace of hesitation.
I knew he was going to his true bride.
And I was headed to my execution.
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8.4
Title: 365: The Architecture of Yearning
Five years. That's how long Sebastian Moretti has been a ghost, haunting the streets of London in search of the girl with green eyes who shattered his cold, Sicilian heart.
To the world, Sebastian is the "King of Shadows"-a man of ice, blood, and absolute power. But in the silence of his private villa, he is a man hollowed out by a single, obsessive memory. He didn't just want a woman; he wanted the soul of the girl who didn't even know his name.
When he finally takes her, he gives her a choice that feels like a sentence: 365 days to fall in love with him, or she goes free.
Elara Vance was a woman of logic, a quiet architect building a life out of glass and steel in London. She never expected to be the centerpiece of a mafia king's obsession. She should hate him for the gilded cage he's built for her. She should run from the darkness that follows him like a shroud.
But as the days bleed into nights, the lines between captive and queen begin to blur. Behind Sebastian's terrifying dominance is a raw, agonizing yearning that pulls at Elara's soul. In the heat of the Sicilian sun and the unfiltered intimacy of the midnight hours, she discovers that the man who stole her is the only one who truly sees her.
As a Russian war looms and betrayals surface from within, Elara must decide: is she a prisoner of his walls, or the architect of his heart?
In a world where every touch is a claim and every kiss is a battle, 365 days might not be enough. Because once the monster falls in love, he doesn't just want your time.
He wants your forever.
9.7
Prostitution wasn't exactly the future Ariella pictured for herself. But a series of unfortunate events landed her in a brothel she couldn't escape. Until he came in.
His name is Killian Morozcov. He moved liked he owned the world and planted bullets in the heads of men who looked at him the wrong way. He came into the brothel and left with her, and no matter how much she pleaded, he refused to tell her why.
In Ariella's experience, she's learnt that you either stab someone in the back or they'll do it to you. Yet Killian showed her a side of humanity she'd never seen before and her defences fall, leading to a love that they both knew couldn't last.
he was an heir to a Mafia kingdom, and she was a girl from a brothel with no familial backing.
their love was doomed the moment Killian saved her.
especially since he saved the wrong girl. he'd gone to the brothel thinking Ariella was his lost sister, Stella Morozcov.
he'd been wrong and in the process of continuing his search for Stella he grew attracted to Ariella. so much that he felt that he couldn't breath without her.
Their love is built on nothing but pain and deceit...skeletons rotting in their closets. They both have secrets that could tear them apart.
But the past is a funny thing... no matter how much you run from it, it always guns you down in the end.
7.5
"You don't know what you're playing with." He murmured, His hand traced a slow path down my arm, fingers firm but deliberate, sending a shiver straight to my core. "You are scared"
"I'm not." I whispered.
He smiled.
"You should be."
Before I could think, he closed the distance, his lips crashing onto mine, rough, urgent, claiming and fierce, consuming fire of his touch.
"I can't stop. I don't won't to."
Then he claimed my lips again. And soon, my lips moved. I was kissing back.
This shouldn't be happening.
Just then footsteps echoed.
"Rylan-stop, someone's coming-"
But his hands only gripped my waist tighter, holding me still. he whispered.
"Let them. I don't care." then his lips crashed against mine, harder.
I tried turning away but he grabbed my neck and stuck his tongue into my mouth.
"Rylan please." my eyes dart to the door.
"Stop." I struggled.
His hand slipped down to grab my ass. Squeezing it tightly.
"If you weren't wearing a jean, I would have stuck my fingers right into your holes. Fuck." He hissed then continued.
A light knock sounded at the door followed by the twisting handle.
No!
★
Some-secrets are born in fire... and some desires, forged in darkness.
Alyssa Milano carries a past she can't outrun-one soaked in blood, silence, and a secret that could ruin her. At fifteen, her innocence was stolen.
Rylan Russo is danger, ruthless, powerful, and used to getting what he wants. When he sets sights on Alyssa, their worlds collide in a storm of obsession and desire.
Is this a love story tocall?
In a world where trust is poison and passion is a weapon, Alyssa must choose her path.
A dark, twisted romance where survival comes at a cost.
8.2
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?
7.9
I stood by Franco for seven years.
I stayed with him from his days as a Brooklyn street enforcer until he became the Underboss of the Moretti family.
We promised to marry the day he fully took over the territory.
Until last month.
I saw Franco tangled up with someone else on the leather sofa of his safe house.
He said she was cold like ice and that the other woman knew exactly how to please a man.
He pinned her down.
I chose to walk away.
I heard the rumors later.
After I left.
Franco lost his mind.
7.2
Elena stood flawless in her bridal gown. Five years of molding herself for Dante Moretti and a powerful mafia treaty culminated now. This dress was her only solace.
Then her phone buzzed. A text from Dante: "Wedding canceled." Two cold words, no explanation. Her world shattered, heart a sledgehammer blow.
Dante answered her call from a hospital, commanding her to leave, no apology. Her father and 500 mafia guests outside whispered of "humiliation." Marco then cleared Dante's things, revealing he was moving his long-comatose 'white swan,' Sofia, into their intended home. Her father's ultimatum: win Dante back in thirty days, or be married to a sadistic Russian boss.
Discarded, betrayed, and trapped, Elena felt absolute humiliation. She despised five years wasted, facing a fate worse than death. But as tears blurred her vision, a dangerous thought ignited: Dante wasn't the only Moretti. She wouldn't cry or beg. Instead, she'd choose the most terrifying Moretti of all, and make Dante pay for his arrogance.