Attack On Titan Meme Face Novels & Stories

Back home in Sicily, there’s a rule. If I’m not married by 30, I go back for an arranged marriage. When I told my boyfriend, Jax, he scoffed. "What century is your hometown stuck in? The Middle Ages? Arranged marriages? Alessia, I said I'd marry you. Stop trying to force my hand with this pathetic drama." He casually pulled out a pigeon-blood ruby ring and tossed it to his personal assistant, Bianca. She caught it, blushing. "I was going to propose tonight. But since you’re so desperate, I think we both need to cool off." The ring I’d waited years for. He just threw it to someone else. My heart froze over. Jax walked out of my office with a conqueror's smirk. Bianca pushed the ring toward me. I didn't even look at it. "Take it. It’s your size, isn't it?" The color drained from her face. I shoved her out the door. Right before I slammed it shut, I said, "Tell your boss we're done." He didn't know the "elders" forcing me into this marriage were led by the most ruthless Godfather in Sicily. And the "blind date" was an arranged union with the Don of the North American Five Families.

My best friend is bound to a trade system—she can force a swap with me three times. At 13, she takes my heart. At 18, she takes my SAT scores. And now, for the final swap, she wants my entire identity. I hide under the covers, unable to hold back a laugh. My villa is rented, and my family background is totally fake. Go ahead, bestie. Swap away! This time, I really hope you don't hold back.

I was the Falcone family's top consigliere. Their brain. And today, I was walking away—handing over the books to every legitimate business I ran, severing my final tie. My protégé couldn't understand. "You're the future of this family, Aurelia. You can't just leave." I shook my head with a bitter smile. They didn't know. I'd been secretly married to the Don, Vittorio Falcone, for three years. I thought my looks, my mind, and everything I gave him would be enough to win all of his love. A hit at the docks three months ago showed me the truth. I took thirteen bullets. Emergency. I needed the family surgeon—which required Vittorio's direct order. I called him over a dozen times. But when he finally answered, all I heard was a soft, breathless voice on his end. "Vittorio, we haven't cut my birthday cake. Will you hold my hand and cut it with me?" That voice. My best friend. The woman Vittorio once had a crush on. Carina. In the safe house, weak from blood loss, I dug the bullet out myself and had one of my men rush me to a family clinic. Right before they wheeled me into the OR, Vittorio burst in—carrying Carina. Twisted ankle. Needed a doctor. Now. My surgeon was dragged away. The antibiotics came too late. The wound got infected. I fought for my life for a week. When I woke up, I stared at my phone. Not a single message. The tears finally came. I understood. I was just the woman he'd been forced to marry after he was drugged and slept with me. A scandal averted. All he cared about was my value and his reputation. And me? The secret princess of the Rossi family, who gave up everything to build his empire. All for nothing. So I prepared four parting gifts. A celebration of our mutual destruction. Then he'd never see me again.

I was setting up a weekend shopping list on the tablet my husband had just replaced for our home system. A notification popped up. He had forgotten to log out of a shared, encrypted family calendar— one I didn’t recognize. There was only one unfamiliar profile photo. I tapped it. A list titled “My Little Princess – Personal Notes” filled the screen. My Little Princess doesn’t drink alcohol—only mineral water or herbal tea. No late nights. She needs absolute quiet to sleep. She gets anxious easily—keep fresh white lilies in the house and her favorite vanilla chocolates on hand. I scrolled slowly, my expression unreadable. The final entry was bolded. Highlighted. “Next Wednesday: take my Little Princess to choose her wedding crown.” I closed the screen. Then I picked up my phone and called my husband. “Love,” I said gently. “Does your Little Princess prefer a classic European bridal crown… or something more traditional? I thought I could help you choose.”

My fiancé stood me up at our rehearsal dinner at the Sterling family estate. Just before midnight, I got a message from Miles. Kate's pregnant. It's not my kid. But I have to marry her. The kid needs the Sterling name to be seen as legitimate. Our wedding is off for the next three years. We have to keep our distance until then. You need to handle the Alliance elders. Whatever you do, protect Kate from them. Tell everyone you're the one who called it off. I stared at the screen and typed back a single word. Fine. I was done with him. I never wanted to marry him in the first place.

I am the most secret Principessa of the Sicilian "Shepherd" Mafia. For my safety, my identity was a closely guarded secret since birth. I lived in the shadows, leaving the outside world entirely ignorant of my true standing. On my wedding day, my mafia fiancé allowed his female bodyguard to feed my family's heirloom token to his dog. He mocked me for coming from some "backwater" family, claiming I wasn't worthy to be his bride. He even threatened to wipe my family off the map.. Looking this, I simply made a single phone call. Moments later, armored vehicles crashed through the estate gates, and our family’s chief Consigliere knelt me in front of the terrified crowd:"Principessa, your father sent us to bring you home." It was only at that moment that my arrogant fiancé finally understood. The woman he had humiliated was the sole heir to the "Shepherd" family that controlled the European arms trade. But it was too late for regrets.

When I returned from a mission, I found my Alpha mate, Wyatt, had tattooed his Beta's sigil next to our sacred mating mark. I cut my mission short, stormed back to the pack, and publicly declared my intent to Reject him. The mating mark is sacred, a symbol of two souls eternally bound. Desecrating it is the gravest insult to the Moon Goddess. Wyatt tore the rejection papers to shreds, casting them to the ground. Fury blazed in his wolfish eyes. "Over a sigil? You're tearing us apart over a meaningless symbol. Are you insane?" "Do I look like I'm kidding?" I sneered. "Fine. Let the Moon Goddess be your judge." The color drained from his face. "Faye, if you dare go through with this, I'll strip Rory of his birthright. He'll never be Alpha." "How could I be cursed with a mother like you? You're ruining my future as Alpha! I hate you!"My son, Rory, snarled from the side, his eyes burning with hatred. I looked at this father and son, who was now both strangers to me, and my heart turned to ash. My fingers tightened on my herb pouch. "The moment your father desecrated our mark," I said, my voice eerily calm, "I was already done with you."

For five years, Marco Falcone was the perfect man. Or so I thought. The illusion shattered on the night of our engagement party, when his mistress crashed it, a five-year-old boy in tow. The boy ran straight to Marco, crying, "Daddy! Daddy, I finally found you!" It had to be some kind of sick joke. But then Marco turned to me, his voice stripped of all warmth. "This is my son, Leo. A… mistake Sofia and I made five years ago." "Leo is the Falcone heir. I have to legitimize them. That means I'll be engaged to Sofia first." "But Lydia, believe me, I still love you. We can have our engagement party in six months. You're going to be the Donna of the Falcone family. I expect you to be generous and understanding. This is non-negotiable." I laughed, a cold, sharp sound, and slid the engagement ring off my finger. My eyes scanned the room and locked on the man in the corner—Lorenzo Moretti, the most powerful Don in New York. He held another title, one only I knew: the man who’d been trying to make me his. "Don Moretti," I called out, my voice clear and steady. "I find myself in need of a new fiancé. Are you interested?"

Rogues took me while I was protecting my mate, Alpha Arthur. I came back three years later, only to find Arthur mated to my sister, Calista. My son, Leo, didn't recognize me. He only saw Calista as his real mother. Broken, I forced Arthur to banish Calista with the Elders' support, using my past contributions as leverage. But she died in a weak, outlying pack. Poisoned. After her death, Leo hated me for it. Arthur never blamed me, though. He just kept telling me everything would be okay. But when our pack was attacked again, he threw me to our enemies without hesitation. Left me to die. As I lay dying, I heard him snarl through gritted teeth. "If you hadn't come back, Calista would have been my mate for life!" My heart turned to ash. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back. Back to the day I returned after being gone for three years. This time, I looked at Arthur shielding Calista, with Leo clinging to her. "I sever our mate bond. From this day on, I am done with all of you."

My mate, Nolan, is the Alpha heir. He promised to return before the Moon Goddess Festival. We were supposed to have our mating ceremony. I promised him the Heart of the Pack. My parents’ legacy. It's the key to controlling our elite warriors—the Dire Wolves. It was to be my mating gift to him. But he came back with a rogue bitch draped all over him. A she-wolf with wild, hungry eyes. I waited for him at the festival, ready for our prayer. Instead, I watched him with her. Skylar. They were by the bonfire, nipping and teasing each other like no one else existed. I told him his behavior was improper for an heir. He laughed in my face. “Old-blood nobles are so boring. Not raw and real like Skylar.” He thinks getting the Heart of the Pack gives him the Dire Wolves. He has no idea. The Dire Wolves answer to my bloodline. Without me, the Heart of the Pack is just a rock.