Novel & Cerita Attack On Titans Books

I was born a Gifted She-Wolf — the only one who could carry an heir of the Ashford royal bloodline. The Alpha King begged me to marry his heir, Hadley. I refused and mated to Hadley's brother — the disgraced former heir who'd been injured in battle. The rumors said he could no longer function as a man. Because in my past life, I'd loved Hadley. We grew up together. I gave him everything. I swallowed bowl after bowl of forbidden tonics. I let blood parasites tear through my veins just to conceive his pup. And when I nearly bled to death giving birth, Hadley threw me to the Rogues. I screamed. I begged him to stop. He just held our pup and laughed. "If you hadn't bewitched my father, he never would've forced me to mate you. My Juno died of heartbreak because of you. You're a Gifted She-Wolf, aren't you? You love breeding so much — then breed for every Rogue in Ashford Territory." The Rogues broke me until I died. Hadley tossed my body at Juno's grave as an offering. My pup was recorded as Juno's child. Then I opened my eyes — back to the moment the Alpha King first begged me to marry Hadley.

At a family dinner, Don Vincenzo’s new pet, a dancer named Ava, came for me. She puffed out her chest and slammed a ledger on the long table. “Vincenzo, I accuse her! Skimming from the family business, our club ‘The Siren’s Song.’ Betraying the family!” Every eye in the room turned on me, sharp as knives. But Vincenzo, my boss… his face went hard. I almost pitied the little dancer who’d crawled her way out of Brooklyn. The “family business” she was talking about? It was my private club. A gift from my father. I just lent it to Vincenzo when he was starting out, to give him a respectable front. I lent it to him for two years, and now it’s family property?

Ten years with Don Maximus. I went from the crazy girl who demanded his "undying loyalty" at gunpoint to Chicago's perfect Donna. When Maximus took the casino's hottest stripper to his private room, I didn't lose my mind. Instead, I tossed the woman the keys to a Manhattan penthouse. When Maximus's new flame threw a tantrum at a yacht party, I didn't bat an eye. Instead, after she slapped a waiter in a fit of pique, I made the police problem go away. When Maximus fought with one of his girls, I'd even send her a limited-edition Birkin to smooth things over. And today, Maximus is busy fucking his hot new toy in the study, while another pregnant mistress stands on the estate's rooftop, threatening to jump just to see him. And I'm still the one in my red-bottom heels, calmly going to clean up his mess. The mistress screamed, desperate. "I'm not having this baby! Get Maximus!" I took a sip of my wine, my voice bored. "He's busy today. You have the baby, and I'll make sure seven figures show up in your offshore account." My indifference set her off. She grabbed my wrist, her grip like iron. "You're pathetic, Angelina! There was a time he wouldn't even look at another woman because of you. He slaughtered an entire family for you. When you were shot, he knelt in the pouring rain outside a church, begging God to take his life for yours! But now? You can't even get into his bed. All you can do is stand here and play the gracious Donna!" Her nails left red marks on my skin, but the smile on my face didn't crack. Did she really think a little drama would change anything? I wasn't playing the gracious Donna. I was just done. And I was finally ready to let Maximus go.

I was the firm’s star. The one they called for the impossible cases. My latest miracle? The “Titan Project” patent case. I made the firm a billion dollars. My cut was supposed to be a two-million-dollar bonus. But today, a fresh-faced intern waltzed off with it. I thought payroll had made a mistake and stormed straight into the senior partner's office. “Preston. My two-million-dollar bonus. Tell me there’s been a mistake.” Preston didn’t even bother to look up. “Victoria, I’ve looked into it. We won this case because of Chloe’s client management.” “She was schmoozing clients. Late-night golf games. Weekend yacht parties. While you were what, exactly?” “You never showed your face outside the courtroom. Teamwork is everything.” I almost laughed. It was absurd. “She’s a rookie who can’t even recite the rules of discovery.” “Enough!” Preston cut me off. “The firm doesn’t make mistakes. I see what everyone contributes.” “If you're not happy, you can prove your worth somewhere else.” He tossed a severance agreement on the desk. My heart went cold. I signed it on the spot. Before I left, I got the last word. “Preston, next time the firm has a real fight on its hands, you’d better call your social butterfly, Chloe. Don’t bother me.” He blew a perfect smoke ring, smirking right through it. Unfazed. Soon later, my phone blew up. It was him. Begging me to come back and save his ass.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, my husband, Damian Pyke, once again left me for his first love. He said, "Taking care of a child alone isn't easy for Waverly. You're both women—can't you show her some understanding?" Not only was I willing to understand Waverly Benson, but I was also ready to step aside entirely so they could raise her child together. So, I packed my bags and applied for an overseas architecture program through my workplace. However, he eventually regretted it, crying and begging me not to go.

The new Consigliere wanted to restructure the Mafia family’s affairs by sinking her claws into me. My boyfriend, who was a Mafia Don and wildly in love with me, wanted to get revenge on her for me. He planned to raise her status to the skies and make her suffer a horrific downfall when the right time came. He kicked me out of the family and gave all my responsibilities to the new Consigliere. She received luxury cars and jewelry from him as gifts, but he told me to tolerate it as part of the plot. When my younger brother's kidneys started to fail, I begged my Don boyfriend for the surgery fees, which he agreed to give me. On the day of the surgery, I waited from daylight to daybreak for the money, but nothing came. That was when I saw an Instagram post from the new Consigliere, taunting me. "My family's Don is such a wonderful man. Someone who was kicked out of the family was brazen enough to ask him for money. What if she can't repay us? I had to stop the money transfer. I hope this woman will find a better excuse the next time she tries to scam him." The mess ended with my brother dying. My Don boyfriend called me later in an attempt to cajole me. "Don't be mad. Joey can have his surgery later. I'm just tolerating Rosetta to encourage her to become full of herself. The higher she climbs, the harder she'll fall. Don't worry! Her birthday will be in a few days. I'll humiliate her, then make her lose everything. We'll have our wedding after that. That will cheer Joey up!" However, I knew that his so-called plot was the start of him falling in love with another woman. That was when I no longer wanted him.

Alpha Fabian's first reaction to learning I was his fated mate? Rejection. But drunk at the bonfire festival, he couldn't fight the pull of fate. He marked me. Marking a rejected mate came with a price. His power weakened. Forced into a bond with me, he despised me. For two years, I bled for him. I did 100 impossible things, just hoping for a single glance. I snuck into forbidden lands for rare herbs. I negotiated with enemy packs. I fought on the front lines for him in pack wars, always coming back covered in scars. But the one he truly loved was my adopted sister, Gloria. Even my own parents, the pack's Beta, hated me. I was their lost daughter, raised by rogues for fifteen years. But they only had eyes for their perfect, obedient adopted girl. Then, on my 100th task, I nearly died in the Valley of Shadows. When I woke up, I had amnesia. I was done chasing a cold mate and a family's love I'd never have. And when I finally walked away, Fabian discovered the truth. It was never me who couldn't live without him. It was always him.

Everyone in New York knew I was the Godfather’s heart. Gavin Whitestone’s heart. He loved me for ten years. He’d fly into a rage if I so much as got a paper cut. But he’s the one who gave me these three scars. The first time, he pulled every doctor to treat Sofia, the girl who took a bullet for him, and ignored the shrapnel tearing into my side. The second time, he was drugged and fucking Sofia in his bed. When I walked in on them, he shoved me aside, desperately carrying her to the hospital. The third time, he took my father's last gift to me—a revolver—and gave it to a pregnant Sofia, just to make her smile. He told me, “It’s all for the baby. Once the baby is born, we’ll go back to how we were.” But this time, I didn't forgive him. I threw away every gift he ever gave me and vanished without a trace. And that’s when the untouchable Godfather finally broke.

I'm scheduled to work overtime for all five days of the long Thanksgiving holiday weekend. However, I decide to just put up with it because I remember that I have a 200,000-dollar year-end bonus at stake. On the first day of overtime, the HR manager, Karen Beech, deducts 200 dollars from my pay, citing "lack of attention to personal image and affecting the company's overall reputation" as the reason. I look at my neatly pressed dress shirt and slacks and frown. "I've strictly followed the company's rules regarding my appearance. What's the problem?" Without saying another word, Karen grabs a cup of hot coffee and splashes it all over me. "Well, you've got a problem now." That day, an official message is pinned on the company's Slack channel. "Alex Sutherland violated our company's policy, affecting the company's overall reputation. Thus, he's fined 200 dollars." Nobody speaks up for me in the channel. That's because the newly appointed General Manager, Remy Lincoln, says that he wants to reduce costs and increase the company's efficiency, which would mean random layoffs. As a result, the entire office has been thrown into a state of panic, and everyone is looking out for themselves. As for me, I am the highest-paid employee in the company with a monthly salary of 10,000 dollars. On the second day of overtime, someone locks my front door from the outside, making me almost a minute late for work. When I reach the company, Karen writes me up for being tardy and fires me on the spot. I look at another sales associate behind her, Sandra Leach, who is pretending to be busy with work to avoid my gaze. She is the only person in the entire company who has ever been invited to my home. I refuse to leave without a fight and request to see the company chairman, Mr. Richard Lincoln. However, Karen scoffs disdainfully at me and says, "Don't think that you have any influence on the company's decisions just because you're a sales manager. "Mr. Remy Lincoln is Mr. Lincoln Senior's only son, which means his will is also the chairman's." She then glances at my chest and adds, "Did you seriously think that a woman with zero assets like you could even attempt to seduce the chairman into changing his mind? In your dreams!" I'm at a complete loss for words. For starters, I am a man, and Karen has to be completely blind not to notice that. And secondly, if Remy really were my dad's only son, then who am I supposed to be?

Someone @'d me on Nextdoor. "Hey, penthouse girl. You're single. What do you need a whole rooftop garden for? My husband's throwing a party. We'll be needing it starting tomorrow." "Don't worry, we'll give you two hundred bucks a month for upkeep. You'll make a couple hundred for doing jack shit. You should be thrilled." I stared at the screen. It was a joke. I was Don Ricci's heir, groomed to run the South Side. But I traded that life for a paintbrush. This apartment was my sanctuary, my quiet place. That rooftop garden wasn't some building perk. It was mine. I'd paid half a million cash for the deed when I bought the place. I turned it into my sunroom studio. And now someone thinks they can have it for two hundred bucks a month? I replied with two words: "Dream on." I didn't expect the building manager and two security guards at my door the next day. Someone had filed a complaint about me "misusing community resources." And now, for the sake of "neighborly harmony," they were demanding my keys. Fine. They wanted to throw civility out the window? They were about to learn what real power felt like.