Lawyer Mafia Web Novels & Divorce Stories

Georgina, a devoted mother to her twins, Luna and Ace, finds herself struggling to balance her new life with her boyfriend, Toby, and the unresolved feelings she has for her ex-husband, Archer, the head of the most famous and dangerous mafia families: the Lancaster Clan. Archer and Georgina were childhood sweethearts who married at a young age and later became parents. Although they had a strong bond and deep love, complications arose after having kids, causing them to grow apart. Finally Georgina asked for a divorce and even though Archer wasn’t in favour of it, he agreed. But that didn’t stop him from being overly possessive of her and hating the guts of any man that laid a finger on her. They separated five years ago, yet they haven't finalized the divorce despite having numerous discussions about it, especially now that she has a boyfriend. While Georgina is determined to move on from her past with Archer, the undeniable chemistry between them makes it challenging to ignore their history. What caused this rift between them? Why did they break up? Will Georgina find the strength to resist Archer's charm and fully embrace her future with Toby? Or will she be drawn back into the magnetic pull of her past love?

Addison Stone, Attorney at Law, thought she had the perfect life: A handsome husband, loving son, and a career with a promising future. That is until his first love, Evelyn Valentine, returned and everything she worked so hard to build started to fall apart piece by piece. But then, at her darkest hour, a mysterious man enters her life--Hunter Grant. He's handsome, powerful, and has the means to offer her what she wants--whether that is redemption or revenge. When her husband finally realizes his mistake, will it be too late to save his life and the love of Mrs. Stone?

At the altar, I said no loud enough for the whole church to hear. The priest kept going. Dimitri Volkov didn’t blink. That was fact one: I was married without consent in Chicago, to a man who accepted silence as agreement. The morning was cold and I was currency. My father handed me to Dimitri Volkov—Bratva—like a contract clause. Not a daughter. A term to be signed. I left him later. Not in rage. In clarity—after I saw another girl caught in his world with no choice, just like me. Then I went to war. Law school had taught me precision, so I used it. Civil suits. Asset forfeiture. Anonymous tips to the right agencies. I took apart everything legitimate he’d built, piece by piece, until he bled territories and pride. He showed up bruised once, signed over forty percent of his clean empire to my name, brought therapy receipts. That was fact two: I dismantled the man who caged me, on paper, without firing a shot. I still have the necklace. The one he left in my lap that first night. I wore it through the worst, through the year I rebuilt alone, through every hearing. Last month I was pregnant in a courtroom, arguing a case I won. He was in the gallery. The diamonds sat above my collar. No one asked. I never explained. That was fact three: I took something from that night and made it mine. It doesn’t belong to him anymore. It doesn’t belong to what he did. It belongs to me.