The Real Boss Was His Neglected Wife
I was putting my signature on the invoice for the Gulfstream G650 when my husband snatched the boarding pass from the folder and handed it to his mistress.
"You're taking the commercial flight out of JFK," Jackson said, daring me to challenge him in front of his security detail. "Amber needs the privacy. She gets air sick."
I looked down at the crumpled ticket he had slid to me. Economy. Middle seat. Three layovers.
Then I looked at the sixty-million-dollar bird I had leased specifically so his crime family wouldn't get slaughtered on the highway by their rivals.
"Amber is fragile," he whispered, his breath smelling of the expensive scotch I bought. "She carries the future. You just carry the checkbook."
My mother-in-law was already on board, sipping the vintage Dom Pérignon I had curated, refusing to look at me.
They treated me like a glorified ATM with a medical degree. They forgot that five years ago, when the Feds froze everything, I was the one who bought their lives with a five-million-dollar tribute.
They forgot that the hand that writes the checks can also close the account.
As the engines roared to life, leaving me stranded on the tarmac, I didn't cry. Surgeons don't cry over dead bodies.
I pulled out my phone and cancelled the Uber he had called for me.
I wasn't going to the airport. I was going to the safe to retrieve the "Blood Contract."
The five million dollars wasn't a gift. It was a callable loan. And the collateral was everything.
I dialed my lawyer. "Burn it to the ground."
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Chapter 5
Dr. Hailey Hogan POV:
My private island was more than just a getaway; it was a fortress of solitude.
White sand.
Crystalline blue water.
And absolutely no reception unless I wanted it.
I spent the first two days sleeping.
Real sleep.
Not the light, anxious dozing of a woman waiting for a hitman or a drunk husband to stumble through the door.
On the third day, Jessica called via the encrypted satellite line.
"It's a bloodbath," she said, her voice dripping with professional delight.
"Tell me," I said, calmly applying sunscreen to my legs.
"Cornelia is calling the firm every hour. She's threatening to sue you for 'elder abuse' because we cut the payment on her armored SUV. The repo men took it yesterday right in front of the country club."
"Good."
"Amber is claiming you stole her 'heirlooms.' Specifically, a string of pearls."
"I have the receipt for those pearls," I said, closing my eyes against the sun. "Cartier, Fifth Avenue. Purchase date: last Christmas. Buyer: Dr. Hailey Hogan."
"I already sent the invoice to the police," Jessica said. "They dropped her complaint immediately."
"And Jackson?"
Jessica paused, savoring the moment.
"He tried to access the offshore trust this morning. The one you set up for the 'future children.'"
"And?"
"Access denied. Biometric lock. He nearly broke his hand punching the wall next to the keypad."
"He's desperate," I said.
"He's broke, Hailey. The gym-his 'front'-is three months behind on rent. You were paying that too, weren't you?"
"I was paying for the air conditioning," I admitted. "And the steroids."
"Well, the landlord locked the doors today. His soldiers are out on the street. They're looking for a new Capo because Jackson can't fill their weekly envelopes."
"He's losing his men," I murmured.
"He's lost his status. Without your money, he's just a guy in a cheap suit with a bad temper."
"What about the Estate?"
"That's the best part," Jessica said. "Since the deed is in the shell company's name-which you own 100% of-they are technically squatting. I sent the eviction notice an hour ago. They have 72 hours to vacate."
"Where will they go?"
"I hear the Motel 6 by the highway has vacancies."
I looked out at the ocean.
I should have felt guilty.
I should have felt bad for dismantling a legacy that had stood for fifty years.
But all I felt was the warm sun on my skin.
"Hailey," Jessica said, her voice dropping to a serious register. "Jackson is saying he's coming to find you. He says you owe him."
"He can try," I said.
"He claims he has leverage. Something about the Commission."
"Let him talk to the Commission," I said, standing up and brushing the sand from my thighs. "I'm the one who paid their tribute. They know who the real boss is."
"Be careful."
"I'm not afraid of him, Jessica. I'm the one holding the scalpel now."
I hung up.
I walked down to the water's edge.
The tide was coming in, scrubbing away the footprints in the sand.
I was scrubbing the slate clean.
But I knew Jackson.
He wouldn't go quietly.
He was a rat cornered in a trap of his own making.
And rats bite.
I touched the scar on my ribs-a jagged souvenir from the last time I hesitated.
Never again.
If he came for me, he wouldn't find the wife who cooked his meals and laundered his money.
He would find The Stitcher.
And I was done stitching wounds.
I was ready to make them.
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8.8
The Offering of the Blood Moon
In the savage and intoxicating kingdom of the Legion, the Blood Moon does not simply rise it awakens a hunger that demands to be satisfied... by flesh, by fire, by fate.
Kiana was raised to hate the beasts and fear the shadows, to believe that being taken meant losing everything. But when she is torn from her village and delivered into the arms of Silas, the Alpha King, she discovers the truth is far more dangerous
Her greatest threat is not death.
It's the way her body betrays her in his presence.
Silas is dominance carved into living form iron muscle, quiet authority, and a darkness that wraps around her like a slow, suffocating promise. He is a king who does not ask, He takes,He commands, He owns, Yet the one woman who should fall at his feet dares to meet his gaze, challenge his control, and ignite something wild beneath his carefully restrained power.
And Silas... does not walk away from what tempts him.
Their connection is immediate. Violent. Addictive.
Every clash of words burns hotter than the last. Every step closer feels like crossing a line neither of them can uncross. The tension between them coils tight, thick with heat and unspoken hunger, until even the air feels too heavy to breathe.
In the quiet shadows of the royal chambers, where the moonlight spills like liquid silver across bare skin, resistance begins to crack. The scent of cedar and rain clings to him as he closes in, his presence overwhelming, his touch slow and deliberate-like he already knows exactly how she'll respond.
And she does.
Every time.
His hands don't just touch they linger. Claim. Promise.
Every brush of his lips is not gentle... it's consuming.
And when his mouth finds the sensitive curve of her neck, Kiana's defiance falters, her breath catching as something deeper, darker, and far more dangerous rises to the surface an aching, restless need she cannot fight, no matter how hard she tries.
Because this is not just desire.
It is a bond that burns.
A pull that tightens.
A hunger that refuses to be denied.
Yet the closer they get, the more dangerous the line becomes.
Between control... and surrender.
Between hatred... and craving.
Between captor... and something far more consuming.
Because under the Blood Moon, nothing is ever halfway.
And once you're claimed...
There is no escape.
7.1
A year ago, Jonathan walked away from Mia without an explanation, leaving her heart shattered. Now, she is forced into an arranged marriage with the same man who once loved her, only this time, neither of them knows the full truth behind the union.
To Jonathan, the marriage is a strategic move for business purposes. To the mafia, it is a transaction, and to Mia, it is a trap designed by the father who never loved her. Raised and mistreated by her stepmother and discarded by her own family, Mia is sent back into Jonathan's life as an entirely different person, hiding her true identity as the daughter of a powerful mafia lord.
But Mia is not as powerless as they believe. She is intelligent and already entangled in a dangerous secret-Collins, her hidden lover and a loyal mafia enforcer who will stop at nothing to keep her for himself. As old feelings resurface and buried betrayals come to light, love turns into a battlefield.
Caught between two men, two worlds, and a past that refuses to stay buried, Mia must decide whether love is worth risking her life, or if breaking free will cost her everything.
9.6
I was the Chicago Outfit's princess, and Luca and Matteo were my sworn protectors. We had mixed our blood at ten years old, promising that nothing would ever touch me.
But that oath turned to ash the night Sofia Ricci aimed a Roman candle at my chest.
The firework slammed into my shoulder, igniting my silk dress instantly. As I rolled on the concrete, screaming while the flames ate into my skin, I waited for my boys to save me.
They didn't.
Instead, I watched through the smoke as they rushed to Sofia. They wrapped their jackets—the ones meant to shield me—around the girl who had just set me on fire, comforting her because the "kickback" had scared her.
They let me burn to keep her warm.
When I woke up in the hospital with permanent scars, they brought me a letter of apology from her and defended her "accident." They even cut their palms to pay her debt, ignoring the fact that I was the one in bandages.
That was the moment Elena Vitiello died.
I didn't scream. I didn't beg. I simply packed my bags and defected to the one place they couldn't follow: the arms of Dante Moretti, the lethal Capo of New York.
By the time they realized their mistake and came crawling back to beg in the rain, I was already wearing another man's ring.
"You want forgiveness?" I asked, looking down at them.
"Burn for it."
8.7
Synopsis:
She thought she could forget him by morning. She was wrong.
Catherine Moretti wanted to escape her past.
As the daughter of a powerful mafia boss, her life was full of danger, lies, and control. So she ran, hoping to start over, far from the world she was born into.
But one reckless night turned her life upside down, just to find out later she's pregnant with the hot Italian stranger's baby, the one she spent the night with!
Now, she's pulled back into the mafia world, only this time, into Nico's.
She ran from one mafia king... and ended up in the arms of his enemy
However, Nico isn't the kind of man you walk away from.
And in his world, one night can turn into forever.
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."
9.3
I was the Mafia Princess of the Wolfe family, engaged to Daniel Marino to unite our powerful syndicates.
But during a hit at a speakeasy, we were both gunned down.
As my chest was torn apart by a Tommy gun, I looked at my fiancé, expecting him to reach for me.
Instead, there was no despair in his eyes, only a twisted, selfish terror.
We both died on that floor, but the devil sent us back to the day of my hospital discharge.
Instead of finalizing our wedding, Daniel stormed into my father’s study.
"I won't marry Isabella. I want Celine."
He demanded to break our engagement, claiming he wouldn't be collateral damage in a Wolfe family war, and declared his true love for my sweet, orphaned adopted sister.
He thought shedding me would save his life, completely unaware that the assassination was orchestrated by his precious Celine.
In my past life, I didn't know she was a rat who sold our patrol routes to rivals and plotted my murder just to take my place.
If I hadn't died once, I would have believed her manufactured tears and comforted her.
But this time, I remembered everything.
I buried the vengeful woman I had become and let my face pale as I pushed open the heavy oak doors.
"Daniel? You... you want Celine?" I whispered, forcing a heartbroken tear to fall.
This time, I would play the fragile victim, just so I could orchestrate their absolute ruin.