Contos sobre Feel-Good Story e Romances com Scumbag e Regret

My sister Emma and I were mated to the most powerful Alpha twins in the North—Evan and Lucas. After the marking ceremony, they spoiled us rotten. Every she-wolf in the Pack was jealous. But they didn't know that in my previous life, when I was five months pregnant and attacked by rogue wolves on my way to a prenatal checkup, my mate Evan was taking care of another sick she-wolf. I contacted Evan ten times through mind link, but he said impatiently: "Aria, how many more times are you going to play this trick? Sophia just had a premonition this morning that there would be no rogue wolf attack today! Sophia has already coughed up blood from overusing her precognitive abilities! As the Luna, you're not helping, and instead you're here being jealous?" Sophia was a she-wolf that he and Lucas rescued three months ago while patrolling the border. She was delicate and pitiful, claiming she could foresee the future. Soon, she successfully warned of several small-scale attacks. Evan and Lucas treated her like a treasure, doting on her. My sister Emma saw this scene on her way to pick up her three-year-old nephew Noah from school. She rushed forward without hesitation to save me. She and Noah begged Lucas for help, but Lucas was even colder: "You two sisters are really something. It's bad enough you conspired to put on a show to force us to come home, but you even taught a three-year-old child to lie!" Finally, the rogue wolf pack caught up with us. Three-year-old Noah was brutally bitten to death, and my child was ripped from my womb. When I opened my eyes again, Emma and I were back an hour before the rogue wolf attack. This time, Emma and I had only one thought: to sever the mate bond.

My boyfriend's mistress posted a pregnancy announcement with him on Instagram. They looked ridiculously happy. Then she tagged me and asked for my blessing in front of everyone. Naturally, the whole internet waited for me to tear her apart. They had every reason to expect bloodshed. I'd dragged myself out of the ruins of a crime family and fought my way to the top of Wall Street. Julian Rhodes, meanwhile, was the son of the nanny who had raised me. And Emily Nash? She was a medical intern who grew up in the slums. Soon, even underground bookies were taking bets on what I'd do. Half bet Emily wouldn't make it out alive. The rest bet Julian would die beside her. I did neither. Instead, I shocked everyone by congratulating them. There was a reason for that. A month earlier, Julian had been badly injured while protecting me during a shootout at the pier. The head injury had left him with an alternate personality. That other Julian had fallen hard for the first person he'd seen when he woke up—Emily. A few days earlier, Emily twisted her ankle as she walked past me. That alone was enough to bring out Julian's other personality. He grabbed an antique vase and smashed it against my forehead. Hot blood ran down my brow and into my eye. My hand went straight to the gun at my hip. Then I stopped myself. He laughed and pointed at me. "Caroline, touch Emily again, and the real Julian will never wake up. You'll never see him again." Julian had saved my life the night my family was wiped out. He also held the access keys to everything I owned. So if I wanted the real Julian back, I had no choice but to endure it.

My fiancé, Enzo Marchetti, had never gotten over his first love: Irene Salvi, the Marchetti family's personal psychic. On the day of our engagement, she doused me in black goat's blood and declared that she'd seen a sign of death surrounding me. "The spirits have spoken. You're cursed. If this marriage goes through, it will destroy our family." Every family member drew a gun and backed away. Even Enzo took two steps back. His aunt shrieked, "No wonder the Corsi family was so eager to marry you into our family. You're cursed. You planned to use this marriage to destroy us, didn't you?" I forced myself to stay calm, but my nails dug into my palms. "And whose fault is it that we only got engaged today? You people know damn well why." When I was 20, our families arranged our marriage. But Irene warned that getting engaged would attract the attention of the anti-mafia police, and Enzo ripped up the invitations that very night. When I was 24, Irene laid out a tarot spread and claimed I'd bring bad luck to the family business. Enzo believed her and kept me out of the inner circle for three years. And today, in front of all of southern Sicily, she'd announced that I was cursed. I wiped the goat's blood off my face and turned to Enzo. "Are you really going to let her keep pulling this crap?" Enzo was wiping the blood from the back of Irene's hand. He didn't even look up. "Irene's grandfather served my family long before her. Her readings keep our family out of danger." I pulled off the ring that marked me as the family's future Donna and turned away with a bitter laugh. "If you're going to let some psychic decide your family's fate, then forget about marrying me!"

A few rounds into the night, when Ethan Brooks set his glass on the table and suggested a reverse game of Never Have I Ever. The rules were simple. Everyone took turns naming something they'd done. Anyone who hadn't done it put a finger down. The first person to put all five fingers down had to take a dare chosen by everyone else at the table. So when Ethan grinned and said, "I've dated a Grant," I laughed and raised my hand too. "What do you know? So have I." The whole table cracked up. When it was Claire Howard's turn, she lazily swirled the drink in her glass. She glanced at me, then looked at Noah. "Last month, Noah and I celebrated our seventh wedding anniversary." My smile slowly faded. "Don't joke about that." But Leah Collins, sitting next to her, burst out laughing. "Who says she's joking? We were all there for that 'wedding' of theirs." Seven years. Noah and I had only been together for five years. And our real wedding was still nine days away. I turned to Noah on instinct. He had his head down, fiddling with his phone as if he hadn't heard a thing. But the screen was still open to his text thread with Claire, and at the very bottom was a kissing-face emoji she'd just sent. I ended up with the dare. Ethan egged me on to use Noah's phone to call the third number on his recent-calls list and put the call on speaker. A woman's voice came through the speaker, warm with laughter. "Babe, you left your underwear in my bathroom when you showered here yesterday. Are you coming by tonight to pick it up?" The room went dead silent. I knew that voice. Leah. The others didn't even look shocked. Each of them had a piece of Noah's past: flirty jokes they'd once shared with him and secrets only his friends were in on. Some of them had even slept with him. And I, the woman who was marrying him in nine days, was the outsider. "You all win this game," I said, looking at him. "But him? I don't want him anymore."

The day before the Imperial Academy trial, my online boyfriend told me his friend had drawn me as his partner. Before I could even process what he meant, he dragged me into a group chat. "Congratulations, Liam! You drew yourself a 200-pound partner!" Right after that, someone posted a photo of me from three years ago for everyone to see. In it, I wore an XL ceremonial robe, my face so chubby my ears practically disappeared. The chat instantly exploded with laughter. "God, that's not a werewolf. That's a porcupine on two legs." "A bet's a bet, Liam. You drew her yourself!" "Who says his partner is useless? She could sit on the prey and crush it to death! Hahaha!" Before long, someone started a betting pool. They were betting on whether I'd dare show up for the trial the next day. My online boyfriend bet 10,000 gold coins that I wouldn't. "Don't blame me, guys. You drew her yourself!" Liam, the werewolf who had drawn me, didn't say a word. Then Claire, the girl everyone in the chat had crowned the prettiest girl at the academy, suddenly tagged me. "Sweetie, don't listen to them. You'll still come tomorrow, won't you?" I watched the insults fly across the screen and laughed. None of them knew I'd lost 100 pounds for this trial, dropping from 200 pounds to 100. For the past two months, I couldn't leave the house without some werewolf hitting on me. Without saying a word, I placed my own bet. 30,000 gold coins that I'd show up on time.

I was born wolf-less. At the academy, Arabella made my life hell for it. By the time I graduated, my wolf finally awakened, gifting me powerful healing abilities. I thought the nightmare was finally over. I met my fated mate Alpha Tristan. He was powerful, gorgeous, and promised me the world. But the day I went to tell Tristan I was pregnant was the day I discovered his devastating lie. It was never Tristan in my bed. It was his twin brother, Ronan. The rogue Alpha who’d abandoned the pack years ago to slum it with humans. He used a scent-mimicker to crawl into my bed, to get me pregnant. It was all a twisted plot to humiliate me on my big day. They wanted revenge for Arabella, who lied and claimed I was the bully. They wanted to crush me. I stormed into the study to confront them. I told them I’d expose everything and demand an apology. Instead, they imprisoned me. They performed a dark ritual, siphoning my wolf into Arabella. They drained my life force and murdered my unborn pup. I died in agony. Then I opened my eyes. I was back on the day I found out I was pregnant. I clutched my belly, a single tear tracing a path down my cheek. Those bastards were going to burn for what they did.

Five years ago, at a family council meeting, the old Don forced his son Victor Caceres and me to marry under a blood pact to stop the riots in the streets. As we exchanged rings, Victor spoke softly enough that only I could hear. "I can't defy my father's orders. But since I'm marrying you, I'll give you all the protection a Donna deserves, as long as you don't cross any lines." Over the next five years, he'd shielded me with his body during an air raid by a rival family and taken a knife meant for me in a gang fight. I'd been naive enough to believe that even a blood-soaked contract marriage could turn into something real. Then the old Don died unexpectedly, and Victor took control of New York's entire underworld. That night, Victor brought his first love, Selena Morelli, back to the estate from a safe house. He handed me an agreement to end our marriage pact. "Carl Lombardi has worked for me for ten years. He runs a clean operation, controls a wealthy territory, and has no children out of wedlock." I stared at the terms written on the parchment. After a long moment, I forced a smile. "If you need to make room for your true love, I'll leave. But why do you get to decide the rest of my life like you’re dividing up the spoils?" Victor frowned, his voice hard and final. "I've already settled the terms with the Lombardi family. They're more than happy to welcome you. "You wouldn't last long on your own without me. If you marry Carl and a gang war breaks out, I'll have every right to step in and save your life." So as power changed hands in the underworld, I was just a loose end to be tied up. Without a second's hesitation, I cut my fingertip, pressed my bloody print onto the agreement, and picked up the crest.

Colton and I were the two most notorious good-for-nothings in the Sicilian mafia. My oldest brother, Dominic, was the Don of the Turner Family. My other brother, Luca, laundered money for the entire operation. That made me the Family princess who did nothing but max out my brothers' credit cards. Colton had been frail since birth. His hands shook whenever he held a gun. But his oldest sister, Serena, ran several arms routes in the south, and his other sister, Natalia, commanded one of the world's top assassin teams. One day at the racetrack, the four of them got to talking. "Since none of us can stop worrying about the little ones, why not put them together? Easier to keep an eye on both." Just like that, Colton and I got married. We were moved into the Family estate, and life was peaceful and easy. That peace lasted until it was time for me to go abroad with Colton for his long-term treatment. The night before we left, our brothers and sisters threw us a farewell banquet so we could make our formal debut before the Family. At the banquet, Beth, the daughter of the Garry Family, insisted I was the mistress her husband kept on the side. "I don't know your husband, and I'm definitely not his mistress. My husband is right over there." I pointed him out to her. Colton was stuffing cake into his mouth, his hands already starting to tremble. Beth burst out laughing. "You think pointing at some idiot will fool anyone? I've seen plenty of women like you!" She shoved me hard. I crashed into the champagne tower, knocking it over. Glass shattered across the floor, and the deafening noise drew a crowd. A jagged shard sliced a deep gash into my leg. Blood poured out. Colton panicked when he saw what happened. He rushed forward, shoved Beth aside, and was ready to fight. Beth was furious. "So he really is an idiot. Throw them both into the sea." I fought with everything I had and managed to dial Dominic. My voice shook. "Dominic, someone's trying to kill me." They had no idea wha

For generations, every she-wolf born into the Frostmoon Pack has been an Omega. We aren't fighters, but our bloodline can stabilize an Alpha's power and produce exceptionally strong heirs. When I came of age, our pack's centuries-old tradition dictated that I should bond with Lucas Grant, the Alpha of the Blackstone Pack. My parents had always put pack law above everything else. Yet for the first time, they urged me to defy tradition and refuse. But I was already in love with Lucas. I ignored their warnings and bonded with him anyway. On our tenth bonding anniversary, I came home to find another she-wolf in our bedroom. She lay in our bed, carrying the unmistakable scent of a pregnant she-wolf. The same scent I carried. But Lucas forcibly shut down the link between us and shielded her. "Evelyn, I'm sorry. Vivian just found out she's carrying my pup. Her wolf is restless, and she needs my scent to calm down. Sleep in another room tonight. If you're upset, I can apologize." Even his apology sounded polite, as though he were simply telling me about a change in sleeping arrangements. He probably expected me to cry and cause a scene like I used to, demanding to know why he kept bringing other she-wolves home. But this time, I said nothing. I was already exhausted. What Lucas didn't know was that a mate bond without true love would eventually disappear. Ten years was the limit. At last, I was free to leave him.

I had been in an online relationship with Alpha Steve for five years without ever meeting him in person. We made plans to meet in person three times. Each time, my voice locked up and I ran away. The fourth time, I finally pushed open the hotel room door. Rose petals covered the bed, but Steve had his arm around another woman. He said, "Lavinia, you stood me up three times. How am I supposed to know you're really who you say you are—or even what you look like? So I brought Caroline instead!" Right in front of me, Steve pressed closer to Caroline. I could even see the mark on her neck. A chill ran through me. My voice locked up, and all I could do was pull out my phone and type, "Then what were our five years?" Caroline leaned on his shoulder and laughed softly. "So she really is mute. Five years of talking to you must have worn Steve out." I stood there for a few seconds. Then I laughed. If he could replace his date, I could replace mine. I turned, walked out of the room, and grabbed the first man who passed by. I had no idea at the time that he was the Alpha King!

During a dinner party hosted by the Cassano crime family, a lace garter stained with dried fluid dropped out of Matthew's pocket. He was the Don's son-in-law. When questioned, Matthew insisted I had tried to seduce him, failed, and planted my own underwear on him as a setup. In my past life, I was just a maid for the Cassano family. Simply because I had a killer body and a pretty face, the hot-tempered mafia princess, Caroline, refused to listen to a word I said. She had me fed alive to a venomous snake. My parents came seeking justice, only to end up at the bottom of the river. In this life, I faced Matthew's setup once again. "She sneaked into my booth and threw herself at me! When I rejected her, she planted this on me to ruin my marriage with Caroline!" But I was no longer a lowly maid. I held a Ph.D. in Economics from Yale and served as the Chief Advisor for the Visconti family, a global mafia empire.

He Rejected Marking Ceremony, I Upgraded Mate The very first thing I decided to do after being reborn was to reject the marking ceremony with my Alpha mate Ethan. In my previous life, when Ethan tried to postpone our ceremony for the thirty-second time, I threatened him with the sacred laws of the Moon Goddess. Ethan eventually caved. To pacify my rage, he promised that nothing would interrupt us again. But that was the night his Omega mistress Ivy died. From that moment on, Ethan hated me with every fiber of his being. When I told him I was pregnant, he drowned me in the freezing North Sea. "You and that abomination in your belly deserve to die for her," he spat as he held my head under the water. I died in despair. But when I opened my eyes, I was back at the altar. Ethan looked impatient. "Selena, Ivy says her chest hurts.. We need to postpone the mark again." He expected me to beg. Instead, I unclasped the ceremonial collar and threw it in his face. "Go to her. I quit." Ethan sneered, "Stop acting. Without my scent, you’ll be back crawling on your knees in a week." He didn't know that an hour later, I was knocking on the door of his mortal enemy—Damon, the Tyrant of the North. When I posted a photo of the Winterborn Alpha’s ring on my finger with the caption "Upgrade my mate," Ethan went mad…

My boyfriend, Simon Hepworth, gets down on one knee for the 66th time. Moved by his persistence, I finally say yes. But on the eve of our wedding, he drops a bombshell on me. He tells me he wants to have a child with his stepsister, Fiona Hepworth. I find it ridiculous and get into a huge fight with him. But I never could've imagined what would come next. On our wedding day, I wait at the altar for three hours, bouquet in my hands, only for him to dismissively tell me that the wedding is postponed. All because he and Fiona have an IVF appointment that very day. "Fiona was abused by her father growing up. She'll never be able to marry," he explains. "I just want to help her fulfill her dream of being a mother. It's just IVF. It's not like we're actually sleeping together. Stop being so sensitive." He then hangs up, leaving me alone at the wedding under the gaze of countless guests and flashing media cameras. The shock sends my father into the ICU. Standing by his bedside, I make a vow. "Dad, you were right. I won't marry Simon. Next week, I'll come home and take over the family business."

I have been hopelessly in love with Don Lorenzo Greco since the first time I saw him ten years ago. As the only daughter of the long-established Messina mafia family, I have set aside my pride and chased after him for a decade. On my 25th birthday, the way Lorenzo looks at me finally changed. He's not seeing a child anymore. He's looking at a woman. Lorenzo says yes to me, and I finally kiss the mouth I've been dreaming of all this while. The next day, Lorenzo announces to the world that he will hold the wedding of the century. 9,999 roses, fireworks all night, and a spectacle so grand it will shock every family in Northern Darvent. I stand there with tears in my eyes as the fireworks spell out another woman's name. Elena Lagioia. The assistant who has always been at Lorenzo's side, the girl I have never once taken seriously. I plan to confront Lorenzo with a gun in my hand. However, I stop outside the door when I hear him speaking to his consigliere. "Elena's parents are gambling addicts and owe a large debt. If I don't marry her, she'll be sold to a brothel in Malicuria tomorrow. Let's keep Cinzia in the dark for now. After this is over, I'll divorce Elena and marry Cinzia. After all, she loves me so dearly." On Lorenzo's wedding day, I'm wearing a wedding dress and resting in the arms of a far more powerful Don of the Argento family from Southern Darvent. I look at Lorenzo and smile. It drives him crazy. He swears to do whatever it takes to win me back.

The night before the wedding, I'm about to share the news of my pregnancy with Chester Miller when I see Giselle Thorne sitting in his lap intimately. I'm about to storm in and confront them when I notice a man standing beside them. That man looks exactly like Chester, my boyfriend. I freeze, holding my breath as their voices carry clearly through the room. "Chester, this is ruthless. You actually proposed to her. From what I know, Miranda poured so much effort into this wedding," Giselle says. Chester snorts. "Giselle, she ruins your work and costs you the chance to win. I can't wait to see her, all dressed in her wedding gown and beaming with joy, only to watch me walk down the aisle holding your hand. Just thinking about it gives me a thrill." My eyes widen. It's clearly Giselle who has threatened me to hand over my work, and when she fails, she tears up her own painting in fear of losing the competition. Before I can react, the man who looks like Chester suddenly speaks. "Chester, who's walking down the aisle with her—you or me?" Chester chuckles. "Of course I am. Felix, have you forgotten? Miranda belongs to you only at night." In that instant, I finally understand why Chester Miller is cold by day and passionate by night. It turns out they aren't the same person at all. He and Felix are twin brothers. I clutch the pregnancy report tightly, pressing it against the doorframe as I glare at the three of them through the crack. "I won't let any of you get what you want," I vow silently.

For five years, I have seen Leo Belmonte—the Don’s heir—as the only light in my life. On the day of my wedding dress fitting, he smiled and told me I was only a stand-in for his untouchable first love, Mia. Now that the real thing was back, I was supposed to step aside—go underground, follow my mother's path, and be somebody's mistress like she had been. The bridal fastenings cut my palms bloody, and all he cared about was the dress. His precious Mia ran me down on the highway in her car, and he warned me not to call the police—held my mother's ashes over my head to keep me in line. When the whole internet was calling me a homewrecker, it was him who nailed me to the pillar of shame with his own hands. The night I finally gave up, I boarded the Deluca family's private helicopter. That was when they learned the truth—I was no homeless bastard daughter. I was the only heir the most powerful Don in Europe had been searching for all these years. Once, I saw him as my light. Now he kneels at my feet and begs forgiveness, and all I feel is disgust. One day soon, I would stand at the top of the underworld—somewhere he could never reach again.

Right before my wedding, I suddenly discovered that Rhett Calder had been making a mysterious transfer every month. The recipient was his first love, Colette Branson. For seven years, it had been seventy thousand dollars a month, more regular than my period. I put the statements in front of him and demanded an explanation. He was busy working and didn't even look up. "Colette once had an abortion for me. This is my way of making it up to her. "Don't worry. Money's the only thing I'll ever give her." I cried. I made a scene. My friends all tried to talk me down. "It's only seventy thousand. Rhett's so rich he'd think seventy thousand was too cheap to even buy you a handbag. "The first step to being a rich man's wife is learning to be gracious." Thinking about our wedding next month and all our years together, I gave in, until I discovered that our housekeeper had been making a kid's lunch every day and delivering it to Rhett's office. I confronted her, but she just stared at me, stunned. "Ms. Prescott, isn't that your child? "He's five or six already. He calls Mr. Calder 'Dad.'"

My avoidant fiance refused to talk to me about anything. Every time we fought, he would put on his earphones and turn the volume all the way up. This time, we were arguing over laundry detergent again. He impatiently slammed the earphones on me. "Are you seriously going to do this again, Jessica? You fight because of bad photos. You start a fight because I didn't take out the trash in time, and you start fights because I forgot our anniversaries. And now I can't even choose which detergent I use?" I stared at the red mark on my thigh and the broken earphones on the ground. I saved up most of my salary for that. It was a present, but now he was using it to vent. Yet he had kept the laundry detergent his childhood friend gave him for six whole years. Every time an important date was coming up, he would use a bit of it to wash all his clothes. The sickly sweet scent of that detergent filled the room. I looked up and held back my tears. "Let's break up, Zack."

I was the odd one out in the Chicago mob. Other men's women spent their time fighting for affection, clawing for power, watching out for the homewreckers. Not me. I spent mine cleaning up after my boyfriend, Don Vincent Maro. His political rivals — I squared away. His brother's messes — I handled overnight. The women he kept on the side — I dealt with personally. Last month it got worse. He asked me to go chase off a man who'd been hanging around Sofia, his new girl. Sofia pouted. "Elena really can do everything." Vincent said, "That's why I keep her around." Sofia asked, "Won't Elena be upset?" Vincent paused. "Her? She's used to it." Seven years. No title in the Maro family. No public acknowledgment. Just one function — fixing things. This time, I was tired. I slid the last stack of documents across to Vincent. He signed them one after another without looking up. When he was done, he asked: Anything else? I said: No. It's all handled. What he didn't know was that at the bottom of that stack was the document terminating every identity I held inside the Maro family. The moment his pen touched that page, I no longer belonged to the Maros. And I no longer belonged to him.

On my wedding day, my mafia fiancé, Ryder Conti, had his men bar me from the church. Instead, he walked down the aisle with another woman on his arm. He shrugged at me through the iron gates. "Emilia, the Contis need an heir, and Carmela is carrying a Rossi." "Once I use the Rossi influence to solidify my position in the Family, I'll divorce her. You'll still be my woman." Everyone thought I would obediently nod and wait for him to come back. For ten years, I had loved him more than life itself, even cutting ties with my family for him. That very night, I boarded a private jet to Sicily to accept an arranged marriage with the Godfather of the Vettori family. From then on, I vanished without a trace from Ryder Conti's world. Three years later, I returned to New York with my husband and child to deal with a traitor in the Family. Zayn had some last minute business, so he sent his men to collect me. I never expected to see a face from my past. Ryder looked at me with a smirk. "Had enough fun out there? Since you've come crawling back, this is perfect. Carmela's son needs a cook. You can do the job." Wait, he just called me, the most respected Donna in the underworld, the cook?