The Torn Skirt

My twin sister died in my arms with his name on her lips. Five years later, I wear red lipstick and heels to seduce the man who murdered her. ~ Five years ago, Anastasia’s world ended in gunfire and ash. Her entire family was slaughtered on her eighteenth birthday, by the man her twin sister loved. Left for dead, Anastasia was saved by a stranger. Broken, enraged, and alone, she was taken in by a woman who taught her how to disappear… and how to kill. Now, she’s Skye, trained to seduce, infiltrate, and destroy. Her mission is simple: get close to Nikolaus Volkov, close enough to break him. But killing him isn’t enough. She wants to make him suffer, to crave her, to need her. And when he’s completely at her mercy… she’ll rip him apart the way he tore her world to pieces. A kiss meant to disarm ignites something deadly, Desire. Obsession. Confusion. Nikolaus is not the cold-blooded monster she expected. He’s worse. And yet, with every stolen glance and kiss, Skye begins to slip. Revenge was the plan. Desire was never part of it. Now, she’s playing a game she might not win. Under Her Skirt: The Last Kiss is a dark, twisted mafia romance of seduction, revenge, and ruin, where every kiss could be a betrayal… and every heartbeat could be your last.

On the day I tried on my wedding dress, a stranger burst into the VIP fitting room and slashed me with a knife. She tore my dress to shreds, her face twisted with rage. "A gold-digger like you doesn't deserve a dress this expensive!" The blade, soaked in sulfuric acid, pierced my abdomen, and I collapsed in agony. She grabbed my hair and slapped me, snarling, "Clarence promised to marry me! You're nothing but a homewrecker!" Blood stained my gown as the truth hit me. My boyfriend of seven years had been cheating on me. "Keep staring, huh? My man runs this city. I could kill you, and no one would touch me!" she taunted, smug as hell. With bloodied hands, I pulled out my phone and dialed my brother. "Chris, come get me from the bridal shop. And tell the Thompsons the engagement is off."

My husband and I scratched off a five-million-dollar lottery ticket at a lottery shop. Before we even had time to celebrate, the rosary I had worn since childhood suddenly snapped, a single bead cracking clean off the chain. Without another word, I grabbed him and tried to buy tickets that very night to flee back to the southwestern mountains. The lottery shop owner stared at me in shock. My husband clung to the metal shutter and roared, "Have you lost your mind?" But I gripped that broken wooden bead tightly. "We leave now." My husband flung my hand away, his eyes bloodshot. "I'm claiming this prize today. If you dare run, we're getting divorced!" I nodded without hesitation. "Fine. The five million, plus the used car at home, all go to you. I'll leave with nothing... "But tonight, I have to leave this city."

"That b*tch messed with the wrong wife!" An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. Hell hath no fury than... A Woman Scorned!

While shopping, I spotted a good-looking men's tie. I bought it as a birthday gift for my son. I was paying when the clerk suddenly muttered under her breath, "Disgusting!" I was furious. When I got home, I told my husband what happened. He was ready to file a complaint, but the moment he saw the tie, his face took on a strange expression. "Did you really buy this? If you did, we're getting divorced right now!" My mother heard the commotion and came to see what was wrong. When she saw the tie in my hands, the color drained from her face. She pointed at me and screamed, "How did I raise such a monster?!" I stood rooted to the spot, completely lost.

THE ABANDONED WIFE Today is our third wedding anniversary. Dinner is ready… but he never came home. Our union was never built on love—just a misunderstanding. Three years, no child, a mother-in-law who never accepted me, a distant husband, and yet… I still love him. Three days ago, I found out I was pregnant. Tonight, I was hoping to tell him the news. But a notification shattered everything: a photo of him, kissing my sister. I recognized the place. I grabbed my keys. I came back alone. I spent the night crying. In the next room, they made love. And I, curled up on a sofa, hit rock bottom. In the morning, his mother woke me with a bucket of ice water. She screamed that I was no longer her daughter-in-law, that I had no place here anymore. So I left soaked, humiliated, shattered. But in my pocket, there is a crumpled piece of paper. A stranger's first name. A gaze that fell on me, last night. The only one that truly saw me. Maybe this is where it all begins.