Attack Titan Armin Novels & Stories

I was eight months pregnant, at a charity gala with my husband, Don Massimo, when a rival family hit us. The crowd panicked. I was shoved to the floor, hard. Blood everywhere. Massimo lost his mind, screaming for medics, desperate to save my baby. But when I woke up, they were gone. Both of them. No baby, no Massimo. I remembered the gunfire, Massimo shielding me with his body. A cold dread washed over me. I hauled myself into a wheelchair and raced down the hall. That’s when I heard them—Massimo and the doctor. "Boss, I'm sorry. We did everything we could. The baby… he didn't make it." Tears streamed down my face. They killed my baby. The rival family killed my baby. But his next words shattered my world. "There was only one medical team. I had to make a choice. Bianca… she was carrying my child, too." Massimo sighed, then gave the order. "No one tells Arabella. She'll raise Bianca's son as her own. He will be my only heir." I slapped a hand over my mouth, my vision blurred by tears as I turned away. The man I loved was a lie. Fine. If he wants a war, he'll get one.

They call me 'Ghost.' The king of mercenaries, feared across the entire black market. But for Madeline, the Godmother of the Chicago Mafia, I walked away from it all. She wanted me by her side, so I became a normal man. We were married for five years. The entire underworld knew she loved me more than life itself. She even had my dagger tattooed next to her family's crest—a permanent mark of loyalty. Until I got the photo from her lover. The bartender was naked, his chest covered in red scratches from her nails. Madeline’s hand, with its red polish, was still on his waist. He’d drawn his name right next to my dagger on her skin. And my wife had let him. "Madeline says I'm the only one who can make her feel like a woman. You can't satisfy her anymore. It's time to make way for a younger man." I didn't reply. I just made a call. "Hello. I need a new identity. And a plane ticket."

The night of our engagement party, I found my best friend playing a dangerous game with my fiancé. The casino on our family's private yacht was where I found them. Clara was sitting on the lap of my fiancé, Killian, the Falcone family heir. Killian held a sharp family dagger, its tip snagging the thin strap of her dress. The blade traced a path along her collarbone. The slightest pressure would snap the silk. It was a dangerous, intimate scene. I stepped forward with a frown, but Killian just scoffed. "It's just a little game to liven things up, Principessa. Don't be so tense." Clara's eyes narrowed, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "We're just playing a traditional family game. The knife game. You don't mind, do you, sweetie?" I was about to speak, but Killian's expression hardened. "We just got engaged and you're already trying to control me?" So I said nothing. I just drew my custom pistol from its holster on my thigh. "So, it's a game," I said. "Then let's play for something real."

For our college graduation trip, I spent a whole week glued to various travel apps, finally snagging a half-price couples' train package. I was just about to share the good news with my boyfriend and call it a night when his message came through. "Anna's going through a breakup. She needs to get away and clear her head. We're gonna use those tickets." "See if you can grab yourself another single ticket. It's not that much anyway - like five or six hundred bucks." For a moment, I was speechless. Before he received the scholarship my dad’s pack had specifically established for him, five or six hundred dollars used to be his entire monthly allowance. After a moment of silence, I picked up my phone: “Dad, prepare a private jet for me. I want to take a trip alone before graduation.”

Upon discovering I was pregnant, I excitedly rushed to my husband’s company to put our baby down as our insurance beneficiary. However, I was shocked to read my husband’s file. Partner: Victoria Winston Children: Jack Hudson, Sophia Hudson. I froze. The HR manager said the woman was his legally wedded wife and the heiress to the largest hotel chain on the East Coast. Their children were already seven years old. It felt like my world was crumbling down around me. If she was his wife, what was I? His mistress of five years? His friend with benefits? Even more absurdly, I was now pregnant with his child. A child who would never be acknowledged by their father. An illegitimate child. I nodded dazedly. My whole body felt weak. The man I considered my husband was never mine. Even after death, his gravestone would not have my name!

On our wedding anniversary, I get shot by a rival family during a crossfire. When I'm brought to the hospital while drenched in my own blood, I come across Don Marco Lombardi, my husband, who's supposed to be negotiating a business deal in Asterra right now. Apparently, he's supporting his ex-girlfriend, Lucia Santoro, as they wait for her medical check-up. The moment we come across each other, I gaze at Marco calmly. "What a coincidence." Even though there's panic crossing his eyes, he makes no move to approach me. As I stumble out of the operation room while leaning against the wall for support, I hear Lucia telling Marco, "You should go check on the Donna. I think she's badly hurt." But Marco sounds extraordinarily confident. "It's fine. I'll accompany you through your check-up first. She loves me too much to ever leave me anyway." I let out a cold chuckle at his words. Is he that confident that I will never leave him, hmm?

After my sister's death, I signed a five-year contract marriage with her mafia husband, Horton Falcone. I became the stepmother to my five-year-old nephew, Luca. On my birthday, I wore my late sister's diamond cross necklace, not realizing what it was. At the family dinner, Luca walked up to me with a glass of red wine and threw the wine in my face. The red wine dripped down my cheeks, its sharp scent stinging my eyes and staining my white dress. He tilted his head back to look up at me, his eyes as cold and cruel as his father's. "Don't think you can replace my mom just because you married into the Falcone family," he said with a malicious grin. "You're the reason she's dead." "I wish you were the one who died. Then I could smash your gravestone instead of celebrating this stupid birthday." "I swear, when I grow up, the first thing I'll do is dump you in the Hudson River myself!" The memory stung as sharply as the wine, and all I could taste was despair. I stared at the child I had spent five years raising as my own, a sharp pain pulsing in my chest. I had thought I could devote myself to the Falcone family, that I could win him over with my love. But now, I was just so tired of it all. It was a family with no love, a child who saw me as his mortal enemy. I stopped deluding myself. It was time to let go. But after I left, that arrogant father and son came crawling back to me like whipped dogs, begging for my forgiveness.

It was the holiday season, so I took my foster daughter, Megan Delgado, to our mansion for a vacation. However, I found out that the property had been occupied by someone else. The woman who opened the door looked at us with an impatient expression. “What do you want? You’re interrupting my daughter’s birthday party. Are you asking for trouble?” For a moment, I thought I might have the wrong house. That was until I noticed the clothing and jewelry the woman was wearing. Every piece was an exact match with what I kept in my wardrobe here. The timing could not be more telling. Just a week ago, my husband, Richie Delgado, said he was planning a surprise for me and Megan. He asked for the spare key to the mansion. I glanced past her at the crowd of party guests in the living room. “So, you’re saying you’re the lady of the house?” She sized me up and noted my simple outfit. “Who else if not me? You? You’ve ruined my daughter’s party. You’d better beg for her forgiveness now!” she said in a condescending tone. When I did not move, she warned, “My husband will be home any minute now. Do you know who he is? He’s the CEO of Beran Corp! A nobody like you can’t afford to cross him!” They were using my mansion to throw a birthday party for his illegitimate daughter. It was quite the surprise indeed!

My husband, Matthew Glover, fabricates a scandal to help his childhood sweetheart, reporter Melanie Reed, boost her numbers. "Mrs. Glover Sleeps Around—Multiple Affairs Lead to Repeated Miscarriages." He uses it as a gimmick to grab attention. Next thing I know, my name's in the mud and the internet's tearing me to pieces. When I bring up divorce, Matthew says I'm blowing things out of proportion. "Melanie just started at the TV station. If she doesn't deliver, her coworkers will laugh at her. You're just doing her a favor. It's not like you're actually losing anything." I don't even bother arguing with him. I simply push the divorce agreement toward him. "If you want to help her, go ahead. But we're getting divorced!"

After my financial reports were replaced with blank pages, the company was thrown into a legal and financial crisis. As the accountant, I was accused of falsifying records. I was charged, convicted, and sent to prison. Three years later, I was finally released. My CEO husband and our son came to pick me up in person. Just when I was touched by their loyalty, believing they had stood by me through it all, I overheard their conversation. "Dad, Winona wanted that villa in the suburbs, so you used company funds to buy it. But Mom was the one who got blamed for the falsified accounts. She spent three years behind bars, shunned by everyone. Even I got teased by my friends because of her." Hank took our son's hand, his tone grave. "We agreed never to bring this up again. Back then, Winona needed a place to live. I had no choice but to use the company's money, and your mom had to take the fall." That was the moment I realized—my years in prison, the public disgrace, the humiliation… had all been part of a plan. A plan crafted by the very man I trusted with my life.