
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 6
Alessandro handed me the cup. "Drink."
His tone was commanding, devoid of any warmth.
I took the cup, the hot tea warming my fingers and seeping into my heart.
I sipped slowly, the spicy flavor spreading through my mouth.
It was different from Leo's tea.
His was sweeter; this was sharper.
"How did you…"
"The Marcello family doctor isn't just for show," he said flatly.
I lowered my head, falling silent.
The air felt strange.
A ruthless crime lord caring for a woman during her period?
Who would believe it?
After the bath, the pain eased significantly.
The doctor arrived, gave me a painkiller shot, and prescribed some medication.
Alessandro stayed by my side until I fell asleep.
In a half-dream state, I thought I felt someone gently wiping the cold sweat from my forehead with a warm cloth.
The touch was soft, tender.
When I woke the next morning, Alessandro was gone.
On the bedside table sat a cup of warm brown sugar water and a breakfast tray.
The next few days passed quietly.
Alessandro was busy, and I rarely saw him.
He gave me surprising freedom to roam the estate, except for the front gate.
I spent most of my time in the art studio.
The studio was vast, stocked with supplies surpassing any gallery I'd ever seen.
I picked up my paintbrush again.
Painting let me escape my troubles, if only for a while.
That day, I was painting the roses from the garden.
A maid entered. "Madam, a Miss Isabella Fuller is here to see you."
My hand paused, a drop of red paint splashing onto the canvas like a bead of blood.
Why was she here?
I set down the brush and went to the sitting room.
Isabella sat on the sofa in a white dress, looking delicate and pitiful.
When she saw me, she stood, her eyes red. "Miss Hudson."
"What do you want?" My tone was curt.
"I'm here to beg you… to give Leo back to me." Tears spilled from her eyes as she spoke.
I frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Leo… he's losing it." She sobbed. "Since you left, he's changed. He's searching for you everywhere, neglecting work, drinking every night… He says he can't live without you. Miss Hudson, I know I was wrong before. I shouldn't have come between you. But we truly love each other. Please, talk to Alessandro. Ask him to let you go. Leo needs you, and… I need him."
She moved to kneel before me.
I stepped back.
Her tear-streaked face only struck me as ridiculous.
They had pushed me into this abyss together.
Now she came begging me to help them?
Was anything ever that easy?
"Miss Fuller," I said, each word deliberate, "first, Leo and I are done. Second, I'm Mrs. Marcello now. This isn't a place you can just waltz into."
"And finally," I smiled, "stop disgusting me with your nonsense. Your love story has nothing to do with me."
Isabella's face turned ashen.
She hadn't expected the docile Ava to speak like this.
"You… how can you be so heartless?" Her voice trembled. "Leo loves you so much…"
"Loves me?" I laughed as if I'd heard the greatest joke. "He loves me, so he sent me to a bloodthirsty maniac? Isabella, do you think everyone's as foolish as you?"
"I…" She was speechless.
At that moment, a cold voice came from the doorway. "When did my wife become someone others can lecture?"
Alessandro stepped inside.
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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.