His Ex Mistress, His Enemy
Four years ago, Dianna Rosa fell in love with a man who promised her the world.
Only to find out she was nothing more than his mistress.
Heartbroken and betrayed, Dianna walked away from Zane Romano, heir to the powerful Romano Group, without a word. She disappeared, carrying pain, fury… and a secret she swore he’d never know.
Now, she’s back. Not as the fragile lover he once knew, but as the lead attorney in a billion-dollar lawsuit against his empire.
Their reunion in the courtroom ignites a firestorm of old wounds, sharp words, and dangerous chemistry.
Zane is still cold, commanding, and dangerously charming. But Dianna? She’s not the woman he could control anymore.
One wants justice. The other still wants her.
But when buried secrets rise to the surface, they’ll have to choose....destroy each other, or burn together.
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Chapter: The Shape of UsThe light behind my eyelids felt too white for a world that had just gone up in flames.I woke slowly, not the cool cinematic kind of waking. More like waking with a dry mouth that tasted like I’d chewed on sidewalk chalk. My nose complained first: antiseptic, expensive linen, and something that reminded me of espresso machine coffee, not the instant stuff.Voices hit me before my eyes caught up, coming from the half-open door.“I’m going in first,” Ash barked. “She’s my mami.”“She’s my aunt,” Zoe shot back, louder. “I’m the cousin plus the princess. My rank is above yours.”“No! Mami is—”“If you raise your voices one more octave, you’re sleeping in the parking lot,” Krystal cut in, sharp as glass. “The doctor said she needs rest. Ash, lower your hand. Zoe, if you step on his foot again, I will sell every piece of glitter you own.”Two tiny protests flared at the same time. A chair scraped. Something fell, probably a crayon. Someone muttered in Spanish.My eyes finally gave up and o
Last Updated: 2025-12-31
Chapter: The Line I Cross for YouZane climbed down from his firing position.Diego and another guy shoved inside, spreading out, rifles aimed at the far side of the room where the gunshot had come from. Two men in black—definitely not our people—dragged themselves behind a small forklift at the end. One wasn’t moving. The other tried to lift his gun with a shaking hand.“Put it down.” Zane’s voice cut through the room. Cold. “Now.”The guy turned, eyes wild. His right hand rose, the gun lining up with… me. Great.I held my breath. Erick pressed against the drum behind me, his body forming a thin wall.The next bullet didn’t come from the enemy.A single shot cracked. Diego. His rifle jerked up just a little, then dropped again with a blink-fast reflex.The man’s gun flew from his hand, clattering against the wall. He staggered, shouting, clutching the shoulder that was now bleeding.“Try it again,” Diego spat in Italian, keeping the barrel low. “We’re not the police.”Amelia lifted her hands higher, fast, her fingers
Last Updated: 2025-12-31
Chapter: Cutting Zip-Ties and FateIf I ever claimed my life was dramatic, tonight the universe answered, “Hold this.”The hallway outside the door exploded in sound.Another shot. Close. A bullet slammed into the doorframe, splinters spraying into the room. Amelia and Sophia dropped into a crouch, backs pressed to the wall, their elegance evaporating along with whatever pride they had left.I hit the floor on instinct, half sprawled over Erick. The chair scraped again, loud on the concrete.“Di,” Erick hissed. His breath snagged in his chest.“Quiet.” My forehead pressed against his collarbone. “If you die, I need whatever energy I have left to yell at your corpse.”From the hallway came Diego’s voice, sharp and clear beneath the chaos.“Linea sinistra clear! Move slow!”Another voice answered, younger, fast. Probably Zake. “Two behind the forklift, twelve o’clock. I’m moving.”Then the voice that made my spine shake, even in a warehouse that smelled like rust.“Hold, Zake. Wait. They have hostages.”Zane.My ears cau
Last Updated: 2025-12-31
Chapter: cover, coverThe second blast hit closer.The floor lurched for real this time. The light overhead stopped being décor and turned into a threat; the cable swung hard, its shadow dancing over the brick wall. Dust rained from the ceiling, stinging eyes and throat.“What was that?” Erick choked from the chair.“Picnic,” I muttered without thinking. “Gangster edition.”Amelia was already at the window. Her heels clicked on the concrete with a rhythm that didn’t match the situation at all. She yanked the grimy curtain aside and looked out.When she turned again, the change on her pretty face wasn’t dramatic. My brow even appreciated the Botox. Her jaw locked.“They’re here,” she said.“They?” I gripped the back of Erick’s chair, heart counting down on its own.The third explosion didn’t come from far away. It felt like something blew right under our feet. Heat rushed through the cracks of the window, carrying the bite of smoke and metal.Then… gunfire.The first shot cracked through the warehouse halls
Last Updated: 2025-12-31
Chapter: Detonation"Okay, what plot twist is this supposed to be."The words slipped out before my brain caught up.Sophia leaned on the doorway like this was just an internal meeting relocated to hell. Black blazer, slacks, spotless white sneakers. Her hair was tied in a lazy knot, loose strands brushing her cheeks. Glasses hooked on her blouse collar instead of her face. One hand toyed with her phone, thumb sliding once."Seriously, D," she went on, her tone flat. "If you need fifteen more minutes for a dramatic reunion, I’ll resend the email. The one that says, ‘We found something about Erick’ in triple bold."I stayed on the floor. One hand on Erick’s knee, the other gripping the chair. My lungs dragged for air, my chest tight. My head still refused to accept what I was seeing."Sophia." My tongue felt like paper. "How did you even…""Get in?" She lifted a brow. "The door wasn’t locked, sweetheart. You just walked in too."That wasn’t what I asked and she knew it.Erick shifted weakly. "So…" his voi
Last Updated: 2025-12-31
Chapter: The Side DoorIf there had been an award for the Worst Midnight Decision, I would’ve been holding the trophy already.I slipped past the iron gate and dropped onto the dirt road. Mud splattered my shoes. Milan’s cold bit straight through my hoodie. The narrow stretch ahead sat empty, washed in a thin ribbon of fog and framed by old trees leaning over the path. A low engine hum crept closer. A pale yellow glow broke through the dark.A taxi.Not a sleek black sedan with tinted windows. Just a regular city cab. White paint. A crooked TAXI sign on top that looked like it had survived too many bad nights. The engine rolled to a stop right in front of me. The driver lowered the window.A man in his fifties, gray hair, thin mustache, sly eyes that had clearly watched too many fools get into his car at even worse hours.“Signorina?” Thick accent. His gaze drifted from my face to the hoodie, to my pants, then to the gate behind me. He checked the address on the phone strapped to his dashboard. “Via… that o
Last Updated: 2025-12-31
TO HATE, TO TOUCH, TO RUIN
As the wife of the Colombian cartel heir, Krystal Serrano is a symbol of diplomacy and control. Dressed in silk, wrapped in silence, and displayed like a crown jewel at the center of power. But behind the flawless smile lies a woman raised not just to survive, but to rule.
When her husband's betrayal ignites a war with the Italian mafia, Krystal is taken.
Kidnapped and hidden away by Zachary Romano, the young, ruthless Don who solves problems with bullets and buries questions with bodies.
He thought he had captured a soft, obedient mafia wife.
What he brought home was a storm in heels.
Krystal doesn't beg. She doesn't break. Her silence provokes, her lips taunt, and her gaze slices deeper than any blade. Inside the stone walls of his private villa, control begins to slip. Hatred turns into tension. Tension burns into obsession. And in their world, love always comes with blood on its hands.
The ring on her finger still binds her to a man who believes she belongs to him.
But what happens when a woman like Krystal meets someone dark enough to understand her, broken enough to match her, and reckless enough to want her?
Because there's a difference between loving a woman like Krystal…
And trying to own her.
And Zach Romano is about to learn—only one man can stand beside her.
The rest will be buried.
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Chapter: You Hold Me, He Haunts MeWe lay on the bed with the lights off, the only glow coming from the balcony, slipping across the pale linen sheets.Matteo pressed in behind me, one arm locked around my waist. No space. His breath landed steady on my neck, but his grip never fully eased. There was always a hint of pressure, like if he let go, I’d disappear again.I didn’t protest. I didn’t pull away. I didn’t shift. I was just too drained to push anyone out of my bed tonight, and Matteo… he is my husband, even if the word felt more like a business contract than a sacred vow. At least he is familiar. Safe, in the loosest sense of the word.We didn’t talk. No questions from him about what I’d done, where I’d been, or what happened while I was in Zach Romano’s hands. He didn’t ask, and I didn’t offer anything.Because if I opened my mouth, I was afraid my voice would betray what was happening in my head.The way Zach’s stare could stop me faster than a weapon. The way my body reacted before my brain could say no. The w
Last Updated: 2025-11-16
Chapter: Scarred by His ShadowDinner at the Serrano house never stayed quiet. Unless you were dead or had just shot someone. I hadn’t done either today, so the clatter of silverware mixed with laughter, muttering, and dramatic stories like always.I scooped arroz con pollo onto my plate for the third time. There were empanadas, arepas, pastelitos, even papaya that Mama swore was good for “spiritual purification.” Me? I’m just hungry. The after-being-kidnapped kind of hungry.“My sweet sister,” Bretta watched me from the far end of the table, her face dipped in telenovela-level concern. “You’re sure you don’t want beet juice? It helps with post-war trauma.”“I prefer post-chili trauma. Thanks.”Mama shot me a look, then piled more empanadas onto my plate like they could rinse my sins away. “If you can still be snarky, you’re not eating enough,” she said. “And you need cleansing. I already called Pastor Rodrigo. He’s coming in the morning.”“Pastor?” I muttered, chewing. “I thought all we needed was a hitman and a t
Last Updated: 2025-11-16
Chapter: A Staircase Worth Running ForA few hours after that conversation, I woke again as the plane’s wheels kissed the runway with a gentle thud. Through the window, Medellín greeted me with a pale pre-dawn sky and the silhouette of mountains framing the city like an old painting.Jevan didn’t say a word as we disembarked. He simply steered me toward the black car already waiting, and before I could ask where we were going, the door shut, the engine roared, and we were gliding out of the airport.The drive to the Serrano mansion always made me feel like a character in a high-end mafia film. A private road cutting through the hillside, lush trees blocking out the rest of the world, and mountain air carrying the scent of wet earth.Once we passed the massive iron gates with the family crest welded into the center, I could see the house from a distance: sprawling, layered with stone balconies, and lined with tall windows catching the first gold of morning light.And in front of it… a crowd.Not strangers. Family. All of th
Last Updated: 2025-08-08
Chapter: No More Stone WallsThe helicopter touched down in a town that felt like it belonged in a fairytale, faded old buildings, cobblestone streets, and salty air laced with the scent of toasted bread from cafés that either opened too early or stayed open too late.But that wasn’t what made the place different.What made it special was the fact that no one outside my family dared set foot here without permission.This was Serrano territory. And in Serrano territory, the word “no” was only ever spoken by people who wanted to disappear.The rotor blades slowed, then stopped. Jevan stepped out first and offered his hand. I took it too tightly, but he didn’t let go.My steps felt heavy, but I didn’t say a word. Somehow, any sentence would’ve sounded stupid next to the pounding in my ears.We walked down a narrow path lit by dim yellow streetlights, flanked by two armed men whose faces I vaguely remembered from family meetings years ago. They didn’t look at us, but I knew they were scanning every shadow.Jevan stay
Last Updated: 2025-08-07
Chapter: Smoke, Salt, and SerranosI stepped out of the phone booth, hoping my stride looked purposeful rather than desperate.This old city had layers. Its cobblestone streets twisted and narrowed, crowded with tourists snapping photos of pale-painted walls. Salt-laced sea air drifted through narrow alleys, mixing with the scent of grilled fish and fresh bread.Thirty minutes.Javi said thirty minutes.I grabbed a hoodie from the car seat and pulled it over my head, covering part of my face. I slipped my car key into my pocket, just in case I needed to vanish again. I refused to be caught empty-handed.My pace was fast, but I made sure not to rush. Papa always said, “If you run, everyone runs. But if you walk like you’ve got somewhere to be, only the smartest people realize you’re running away.”I passed a fruit stall. The vendor shouted offers of big oranges. I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Momentum mattered.Behind me, the sound of boots clicked on stone. Not tourist boots. Too heavy. Too deliberate.I didn’t turn. I vee
Last Updated: 2025-08-07
Chapter: Heartbeat ExitI waited. Sitting at the edge of the bed like a nun fresh from confession, except my sins weren’t meant to be forgiven.It was 1:00 p.m. when I heard the first sound. A spoon dropped.Then laughter.Then… silence.I stood slowly, cracking the bedroom door open half an inch. The hallway looked normal. No polished shoes clicking on the floor. No whispers over walkie-talkies. Just silence.Too much of it.My first step felt like the first step of a prisoner who didn’t know if they were walking into heaven… or a bullet.I took the west wing. The part of the house that’s usually the most guarded, it’s connected to the service area and the underground garage. Normally, there’d be two armed men stationed at the end of the corridor.Today? One was slumped in a wicker chair, head tilted back, mouth open like a baby after warm milk. The other was passed out sideways on a small couch, one hand still clutching the TV remote.Ah.The sweetness of a small victory tasted better than revenge.I walke
Last Updated: 2025-08-07
The Billionaire's Regret
Marrying Sebastian Romano had felt like a wish granted too perfectly to be real… until reality crushed it.
For two years, Jasmine lived in a blur of champagne, penthouse lights, and a husband who looked at her like she was his entire future.
In the third year, the silence arrived.
The kisses turned into calendar appointments.
The marriage shrank into handshakes and small talk.
Then Jasmine found the truth.
Sweet messages that were not for her.
Hotel bookings that did not include her name.
A blonde secretary who did not know shame.
Jasmine walked out without looking back. She left her ring, the signed divorce papers, and her ruined heart on their ridiculous king-size bed.
What she did not know was that another life had already started inside her.
Five years later, Jasmine lived small on purpose. Quiet. Safe. Her child grew up without drama, without the weight of the Romano name. Jasmine promised herself it would stay that way.
Until Adrian.
Adrian was nothing like the men who used to own her world. Calm where they were cruel, clever without being cruel, steady in a way that felt dangerous only because she wanted to trust it. With him, Jasmine finally stopped feeling like a problem to fix and started feeling like a person to keep.
When Adrian dropped to one knee at a glittering Monte Carlo...Jasmine did something she had sworn never to do again. She thought about forever.
Then she saw him.
Sebastian Romano.
The man she had loved, left, and learned to hate in the exact same lifetime.
Those cold eyes. That unreadable face. The past she thought she had buried standing three steps away from her fresh start.
“Interesting,” Sebastian said. “Your fiancé… happens to be my brother.”
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Chapter: The Warm One WinsMONTE CARLO, MONACO - FIVE YEARS LATERMonte Carlo feels way too quiet for a house this big. The sun is just starting to peek up, its light slamming into the floor-to-ceiling windows that for some reason always make me feel like I live inside an expensive aquarium.The formal dining room with its twelve-seater table, which sits 90% empty most of the time, sounds even louder than usual because of one tiny creature who thinks normal human volume is boring.“I told you I don’t like eggs! Its looking at me like it wants to eat me back!”I stare at the four-year-old girl in the high chair giving the plate a dramatic glare, arms crossed, hair a total disaster, bangs covering half her face like a failed ninja.“Poppy,” I chew my toast, “that’s a boiled egg. Not a Dementor.”“Dementors are bad, Mommy.” She narrows her green eyes (my eyes) and pulls that crinkled-up expression she uses whenever she disapproves of something... which unfortunately... is copy-paste from one person whose name alon
Last Updated: 2025-11-24
Chapter: The Night I Went QuietMorning arrived far too bright for a night that dark.I stood in the kitchen, spatula in hand, pressing the sunny-side-up egg so the edges crisped. The smell of toast filled the air. I cooked like usual, my body moving on autopilot, but something inside me had already died quietly. Or maybe not quietly, more like being taken out by a sniper from a rooftop.Sebastian appeared a few minutes later, still in a thin black T-shirt and sweatpants. His hair was a mess in the way that used to make me want to grab him. Now it was nothing more than proof that life is sometimes deeply unfair.I didn’t turn. I didn’t greet him. I didn’t ask if he slept well. I didn’t kiss his cheek. I didn’t do any of the small rituals I used to perform like a perfectly programmed robot designed to spoil that man.I simply moved the egg onto my own plate. From the corner of my eye, I saw him pause at the doorway, then walk toward me.“You didn’t make me breakfast?” he asked, sounding… confused.Without looking at
Last Updated: 2025-11-20
Chapter: Wife, InterruptedThe chicken hissed like it was laughing at my life. I sat on the barstool, my chin resting on the back of my hand, staring at the frying pan as if it held the solution to my three–year marriage that was inching toward a cliff.The smell of hot oil drifted up, wrapping our too-expensive penthouse kitchen in a haze far too dramatic for a simple fried chicken dinner.“God, you’re going to burn in a second,” I muttered to a chicken that clearly didn’t care.I lowered the heat. Then sank right back into my thoughts, which felt like an empty fridge: cold, bright, and reflecting everything I didn’t want to deal with.The afternoon tea party was still floating in my mind like a poorly chosen scented candle. It should’ve been sweet, elegant, full of pastel–clad women pretending to like each other.But Sebastian… he’d vanished into the circle of his male friends like I was catering staff, not his wife.He laughed. With his eyes narrowing just a little. With that smile. The smile that once made
Last Updated: 2025-11-19
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