The Unwanted Mistress Becomes The Rival's Queen

The moment Damien shoved me into a waiter's tray to catch his brother's widow, I knew I had lost. For eight years, I was his sanctuary. But Vivian was carrying the "Family Heir," and that made her a saint. He didn't just catch her; he moved her into the Master Suite—the room he had promised to me—while I was relegated to the guest wing like a servant. When Vivian whispered the truth to me with a smirk—that her late husband was sterile and she had drugged Damien to fake the timeline—I rushed to tell him. "She's lying about the baby, Damien! Aaron was sterile!" But he didn't believe me. "Enough of your jealousy, Estelle," he roared, shielding her. "You will respect the mother of my legacy." To prove my submission, he forced me to take her wedding dress shopping. When a heavy iron rack tipped over in the boutique, Damien moved with inhuman speed. He dove to protect Vivian, wrapping her in a safe cocoon. He left me standing there. The metal crashed down, crushing my ribs and pinning me to the floor. As I gasped for air, tasting blood, I watched him carry her out without looking back once. I woke up in the hospital to the sound of him comforting her in the next room. He hadn't even asked if I survived. That night, I didn't cry. I ripped the IV from my arm, shredded every photo of us in the penthouse, and boarded a plane to a neutral territory where the Don's power meant nothing. By the time he found the engagement ring I left in the trash, I was already gone.

Chapters

Chapter 3

I stared at her, the room spinning dizzily around me.

This was treason.

In our world, passing off a bastard child as the bloodline heir wasn't just a lie; it was a death sentence.

"I'm going to tell him," I said, taking a step toward the bathroom door where the water was still running.

Vivian didn't even flinch.

"Go ahead," she challenged, her voice dripping with ice. "Tell him. Tell him the jealous, barren mistress is making up stories to hurt the grieving widow. See who he believes."

The water stopped running.

A moment later, Damien walked out, drying his hands on a plush white towel.

He looked between us, sensing the tension like static electricity in the air.

"Damien," I said, my voice steady despite the frantic pounding in my chest. "You need to listen to me. She just admitted she drugged you. The baby isn't yours. It isn't Aaron's."

Damien froze.

He looked at Vivian.

Vivian immediately burst into tears, grabbing the sheets and pulling them up to her chin as if she were naked and vulnerable.

"See?" she sobbed, pointing a shaking finger at me. "She's doing it again! She's trying to stress me into a miscarriage! She's making up insane lies because she hates me!"

"It's not a lie!" I shouted, stepping forward. "Aaron was sterile! Ask the doctor! Check the records!"

"Stop it!" Damien roared.

The sound of his voice was like a physical blow.

He stepped between us, his back to me, shielding her from a threat that didn't exist.

"Aaron was not sterile," Damien said, his voice shaking with suppressed rage. "My brother was a man. Do not insult his memory."

"She is playing you, Damien!" I grabbed his arm.

He ripped his arm away from my grasp with enough force to make me stumble backwards.

"Enough!" he yelled. "I don't care about your conspiracy theories, Estelle. I care about stability. I care that my men see an heir. I care that the Outfit doesn't crumble into a civil war because you can't handle your jealousy!"

Jealousy.

He thought I was jealous.

"Is that what you think this is?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"Look at her," Damien gestured to Vivian, who was trembling theatrically. "She is the mother of the future of this family. You will show her respect."

He turned to Vivian, his voice softening instantly.

"I'm sorry, Viv. She's upset. It won't happen again."

Vivian sniffled, wiping her eyes.

"I just want to be safe, Damien. Maybe I should leave... go to the country house..."

"No," Damien said firmly. "You stay here. Where I can protect you."

He turned back to me.

"We have a deal," he said, his eyes hard. "Once the child is born, Vivian goes to the estate in Sicily. Then, and only then, we can talk about us. About marriage."

"Marriage," I repeated, the word tasting like ash.

"I swear it," he said. "Just wait a few more months. Let me pay my debt to Aaron."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black credit card.

"Go to the boutique tomorrow," he said, shoving the card into my hand. "Get a wedding dress. Get whatever you want. Just... keep the peace."

I looked at the black plastic in my hand.

It was money.

It was a bribe to shut up and let him play house with a traitor.

I looked at Vivian. She winked at me from behind Damien's back.

Something inside me snapped.

It wasn't a loud snap. It was the quiet sound of a tether breaking.

"Okay," I said softly.

Damien blinked, surprised by my sudden submission.

"Okay?"

"I'll go get a dress," I said, my fingers tightening around the card. "I'll keep the peace."

I wasn't going to let him drown in his lies.

I was going to let him burn in them.

Continue to next part

I was the architect of my husband's legitimate empire, the queen to his throne as the Don of a powerful crime family. Our home was our sanctuary, our bed the one sacred place he always returned to. But in the middle of the night, I woke to a woman's moan coming from a guest room that was supposed to be empty. The space beside me was cold; my husband, Brendan, was gone. The woman's voice belonged to Kiya, my protégée—a girl I’d mentored like a sister. Through the door, I heard him call me "a piece of furniture that sleeps soundly." I heard him tell her she possessed something I didn't. Then, a video confirmed the ultimate betrayal: a four-year affair, a pregnancy, and his casual dismissal of me as a business arrangement. He called me a title, but he called another woman's child his heir. He had broken the one rule that held our world together, turning my life's work into ash. He thought I was just a fixture in his grand design, a brilliant mind he could control and discard. He was wrong. There was only one way to escape this agony. I would have every memory of him surgically cut from my mind, erase him from my soul like a cancer, and disappear so completely that not even a ghost of me remained.

Mafia Modern Romance

9.1

I Married My Ex-Fiancé's Dangerous Uncle

9.1

I stood at the altar in a fifty-thousand-dollar custom lace gown, waiting to marry the boy I had loved since I was five. But Silas didn't say "I do." He answered a phone call, turned pale, and bolted toward the exit as if the gates of hell had opened, leaving me to face five hundred of New York's most dangerous criminals alone. He left me for a waitress named Lola. The humiliation was suffocating. The elite of the Five Families looked at me with pity, a Genovese princess rejected for trash. When Silas finally returned, he didn't apologize. He showed up with hickeys on his neck, clinging to Lola, and had the audacity to suggest I become his mistress. He even demanded I hand over my dowry—millions in weapons and cash—so he could fund their lifestyle and "redecorate" with her. He thought I was still the innocent girl who would beg for his scraps. He didn't realize that in the moment he ran, a shadow had stepped forward to fill the void. Dante Moretti. The Don. Silas's uncle. The most feared man in the city looked at me with dark, predatory eyes and offered me a choice: be a victim, or be a Queen. "Since you are to marry a Moretti," Dante said, extending his scarred hand, "why not marry the head of the table?" I looked at the door where Silas had disappeared, then at the Reaper standing before me. "I do," I whispered. Silas thought he had ruined my life, but he only cleared the way for me to marry the monster who would burn the world down for me.

Action Mafia Romance

9.2

Mafia King Innocent Luna

9.2

{Warning: R-18} "No, please don't do this to me," she whispered, her voice trembling with fear. "Have I ever shown mercy to anyone, my dear Mate? Why should you be an exception?" he retorted, his voice oozing with malice. "Please, I beg you, don't do this to me," she pleaded, her words barely audible amidst her sobs,"Why are you doing this? It's so painful. I hate you. Please stop." "How dare you try to escape from me? Do you think you have the courage to defy me?" he snarled, his voice dripping with venomous rage. "I'm sorry, please, I promise I won't repeat this mistake. Please, have mercy," she pleaded, her words forming a desperate melody. "Your begging is like sweet music to my ears, Angel," he taunted, his voice filled with sadistic pleasure,"You dared to run away from our marriage. Today, I am going to show you the extent of my power." "Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!"

Mafia Romance Werewolf

9.1

Mr. Mafia's Obsession: His Darkest Desire

9.1

His hand tightened around my waist, steady and unyielding. His mouth brushed the side of my neck, and the warmth of his body between my legs made my thoughts blur into nothing but sensation. “Niccolò…” I whispered, breathless, overwhelmed by him. He did not respond with words. Instead, he entered me slowly, deeply, with a control that made me cry out against his shoulder. My fingers dug into his back as I tried to hold on to something solid. I was already shaking, already losing myself in him, and he understood it completely. “You feel that?” he murmured against my skin. “That’s what happens when you belong to a fucking monster.” I moaned. I didn’t care if he was the devil. I wanted him anyway. He grabbed my throat, not tight, just enough to make me gasp. “Say it.” “I’m yours,” I breathed. “Only yours.” NICCOLÒ FALCONE The name that made grown men stutter. The face that haunted cartel nightmares. The man who’d burned empires just to stay warm. He didn’t run a criminal empire. He was the empire, carved in blood and wired with bombs. A walking, breathing weapon wrapped in a designer suit. The kind of man who didn’t flinch when you screamed — only leaned closer to hear the pitch. His enemies called him The Reaper.  His men called him Boss.  The world called him untouchable. And me? I called him mine. But here’s the truth no one tells you: when the devil gives you his heart, he doesn't hand it over — he chains it to yours, drags you into the dark, and dares the world to take you from him. But this wasn’t just sex. This was pain dressed as pleasure. And… I wasn’t just fucking a monster. I was falling in love with one. And that’s the problem. Because I’m the one thing Niccolò Falcone was never supposed to want. I’m the daughter of the man who tried to destroy him. I’m the secret that could get him killed. He said he’d marry me to protect me.  He said he’d kill for me.  And God help me… I believed him. But what happens when the truth rips through our world like a bullet? What happens when the past comes back, not just to haunt us — but to finish what it started? What happens when loving me turns Niccolò Falcone into something even he can’t control? Read to find out ...

Action Mafia Romance

8.6

My Husband Forced Me To Donate My Bone Marrow

8.6

Six months after I died during childbirth, my husband came looking for me, demanding I terminate the pregnancy so I could donate my bone marrow to his idealized love. I was the only match. My mother told him, "My daughter has already passed away." With a face full of disdain, my husband retorted, "I ignored for six months and now she's throwing a tantrum, even faking her death! Pass this message to her. Even if she gives birth, I won't spare her a glance! If she doesn't come forward to donate bone marrow within three days, don't blame me for cutting off your medical expenses!" What he didn't know was that after my death, my mother had already given up on her cancer treatment. She held on just to see his remorse at my grave.

Mafia Modern Romance

8.2

My Return With The Alpha's Secret Triplets

8.2

Alpha Eric left his mate, Lucy after a one-night stand at a foreign pack where both met as strangers. Three years later, Lucy is now the mother of triplets and struggling to raise her kids all by herself without support. Her heart is filled with revenge for the father of her kids wherever she will meet him. The new Alpha of her pack comes home and the pack estate is set for a colorful welcoming ceremony. To her widest shock, Eric is the new Alpha of her pack who had been away in the foreign pack she met him on Military Training. He's not only her Alpha but the owner of the Academy she schools in. Now he wants her and her kids back. “I rejected you because I was dating a mafia boss, I did it to protect you.” He says. Will Alpha Eric be able to convince Lucy to come back with him? Alpha Eric wants her back so badly, soon Lucy begins to fall for him too, little did they know the great obstacles and impending dangers ahead. Will their love be strong enough to withstand the tempest? What will happen when Alpha Eric's mafia ex comes back?

Mafia Romance Werewolf

The Unwanted Mistress Becomes The Rival's Queen

Chapter 3

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