Blood Vows Mafia Wife

I'm ten years older than Vincenzo Corleone. He had just turned 23 years old when he took over the Corleone family as the patriarch. A hint of teenage childishness could still be seen etched onto his youthful features. I was the one who held his hand and helped him calm the turbulence of his family affairs. I blocked three assassination attempts that were made on him. I used five years of my life to help him grow from a useless scion into the fearsome don who wielded the utmost authority in Nowork's underworld. Once, Vincenzo had embraced me in the church. He rested his forehead against my palm as he swore, "Age, identity, or the world's viewpoint of us will never stop us from being together, Freya. I will protect you with my life." But after that, he told his older brother, Marco Corleone, "Freya is too old. She's already 38 years old; I can practically smell the rot of age rolling off her. Even the crinkles in her smile disgust me to no end." Some time later, Vincenzo found himself a mistress who bore some resemblance to me. She was young and vibrant—like a white rose who had never experienced the ugly side of society. While Vincenzo gave me the title of the Donna of the Corleone family, he reserved his gentle, doting, and even passionate side for the mistress named Lina Marino. Vincenzo thinks he can pull everything off flawlessly. What he forgets is that the reason why I can establish my reputation in the underworld isn't because of his protection. I've been relying on my ruthlessness and my sharp sixth sense this whole time. When I slam the signed divorce agreement onto the spot before Vincenzo, I say with a smile, "You've fought by my side for so many years, so you should know very well that I can afford to go for high-stakes risks and withdraw my chips whenever needed. "But once I lose, someone here has to pay the price!"

He needed a bride to claim his throne. She needed a way to disappear. King Kael Vortigen — ruthless Lycan king and feared mafia overlord — must marry before the blood moon rises to keep his throne. But he refuses to marry a wolf. He wants a human bride — rare, forbidden, and impossible to tame. When Elira Cole — a fugitive hiding from a past that cost her everything — is auctioned to the highest bidder, Kael buys her with one goal: own her, break her, rule beside her. But Elira is not the helpless pawn she appears to be. And Kael is not just a king… he’s the monster her bloodline was cursed to destroy. One throne. One marriage. One brutal bond that might save them — or end them both.

"Fuck!," she moans as my finger slides fully inside her, her body responding instantly. "More," Elisia demands, breathless. "Really?" I taunt her. "Beg. You know how this works, Elisia. I'm in control, not you." "I'm not begging you," she retorts, though her voice wavers. Without hesitation, I pull my finger out, leaving her aching for more. I begin teasing her, running my finger along her slit, knowing she'll eventually break. "I'm going to kill you," she growls. "Oh, really?" I mock, pulling my hand away entirely. She sighs, realizing I'm serious. "Theo, please," she whispers softly. "Not good enough," I say, sucking on her neck, leaving my marks. "Please, Theo, touch me," she whimpers, her voice more desperate as I bite into her skin. I stop and smirk against her neck, savoring her submission. I pull back, admiring her. She's a beautiful, needy mess, just for me. "Was that so hard, Sia?" I tease, enjoying the control I have over her. They were forced into a marriage, but fate had other plans. What started with resentment turned into something deeper. She wanted to hate him, but he replaced all her anger with tenderness. "It's hard to explain," I sigh. "I'll listen, baby," he whispers, resting his forehead against mine. "Just talk to me, please."

A single misstep, and the consequences were severe. I am Moxie Guerra, known to all who know me as a devil with the face of an angel. At the age of seventeen, I am a woman with high standards in every aspect of life. I insist on the best food, the most luxurious clothing, and when it comes to men, they must be extraordinarily wealthy, attractive, and well-known. Born to my father's mistress, who passed away after my birth, I am scorned by my father's second family. As the daughter of a mafia boss, I was brought up in a perilous environment. No one perceived me as patient or kind. Instead, I was feared, much like my father, which was my Achilles' heel. However, when I discovered that my father had arranged my marriage to the richest son in the country without my approval, my rebellious streak surfaced. I wasn't just the daughter of a mafia boss for appearances. I was as obstinate and egocentric as my father. I decided to flee to a place where my father would least expect me to be. I stopped at the nearest bar for some liquid courage before driving to my mother's hometown. It was a humble province, filled with trees and dirt roads, a stark contrast to my opulent lifestyle. But my survival was more crucial than my sophisticated tastes. However, my car broke down in the middle of a vast highway on the way there. Despite being inebriated, I managed to survive. A man in a black Hummer arrived and came to my aid. His smile was menacing and disconcerting.

When I get reborn, I quietly change the name of the man I want to marry the most to the hedonistic playboy in the neighborhood. My dad, who's a political officer, is quite surprised to see the change, but he still accepts my choice. In my previous life, when Dad asked me who I liked the most among the young men of the military housing office, I uttered Judd Garrison's name with scarlet cheeks. Dad nodded. "Judd is your childhood friend, not to mention our families are compatible in terms of social standing and wealth. You two have grown up together since you were kids, so I believe he will treat you well." Later on, Judd and I got engaged and married. Our wedding was a fancy and high-profile one to the point that even the political leader gave us his blessings. But Judd was quick to submit an application to help defend the border half a year into our marriage. He claimed that he wanted to contribute to the country with his efforts. Not only did he abandon me, leaving me to take care of my in-laws on my own, but he also cut off contact with me when Dad was falsely accused of being corrupted. Just as I thought I couldn't function anymore after suffering from the pain wrought upon me by Dad's death, I received the tragic news that Judd had died in a mountain flood as well. Thanks to the devastation caused by both pieces of bad news, I ended up taking my own life by hanging myself. What I didn't expect was that a gray-haired, elderly couple would visit my grave to pay respects to me 40 years after my death. Judd, who should've been dead, had an arm wrapped around my cousin, Megan Whitlock, as they stood before my grave. "It's my fault for faking my death and lying to you, Julie. Back then, I had to marry you in order to fulfill my parents' request. Megan has always been the woman that I truly love. "This is all my fault, Julie. I just hope that you can stop pestering Megan from now on. If you really are resentful, you're free to direct your resentment at me." To think that they loved each other to this extent… Judd was willing to give up on his identity and fake his death in order to get out of his life with me so that he could stay with Megan forever. He even clung to the superstition that my postmortem resentment was the reason behind Megan's cancer. Having found out about the truth, I let go of my obsession and faded into nothing. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Dad asks me who I like the most.

My family was supposed to be the richest of the land, yet I had to refund even a cheap delivery. Why? In my previous life, my housekeeper's daughter got her hands on a trading system. Every cent of money I spent would be hers. She started trying to guilt-trip me into donating to all the impoverished students in her school. It was charity anyway, so I signed a check worth 300 grand. The moment I did, that money became part of her savings, and the amount on my check was zero. Everyone called me names, called me a charlatan. Even the boy toy I spent good money on broke up with me. That girl used my money to donate to charities and became the kind and beautiful heiress. She told everyone I was the housekeeper's daughter instead. Furious, I grabbed my black card and started shopping like crazy. I wanted to prove I was the real heiress, but the balance in my account was cleared immediately. That girl then spent 1.2 million right away, like it was one dollar. She scoffed at me. "Don't try to act like you're rich when you're a broke loser. Your mother doesn't make enough as a housekeeper." The Internet decided to hunt me down. I could not handle the stress, and my mind broke. For some reason, my body withered away at a blistering rate. Before my father could save me, I drew my last breath. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to that fateful day. The day the housekeeper's daughter made me donate to the school.

“You're a long way from safe, Miss Allard,” he whispers, his fingers tracing the strap of my bra until I shiver. "If you want to turn around, I’d suggest you do so now.” I stare up at him, watching as his dilated grey eyes dip to my cleavage. “Where will I go, Mr. Sinclair?” I ask, pulling him closer until our lips are inches apart. “Where can I go that you won’t find me?” **** 24 year old Ava Jade Allard has a few problems, but like most issues, there’s nothing a little money can't fix. So when Ava attends an art show to sell a few of her paintings to some of the richest, high-society members of New York, she’s sure she can kill two birds with one very rich stone. In and out, just like she hoped. But New York seems set on eating Ava whole, and as one mess leads to another, she finds herself in the arms of Billionaire Leonel Sinclair, a ruthless CEO who is still dealing with the consequences of a scandal he was entangled in 4 years ago. Now more desperate than when she started, Ava reluctantly turns to this stone-cold, terrifying, but somehow insanely hot Billionaire to help her set right what was wronged 4 years ago, while somehow doing the same for him, and with one contract marriage, Ava signs away her single status, anonymity and possibly her soul. Will this contract fix the manytraumatic wrongs of her past, or will Ava crumble under the weight of her grey-eyed, stoic CEO, whom she seems less and less able to keep her body and heart away from with each passing day? What happens when Ava agrees to these reckless vows and emerges as the Billionaire’s Bride?

I found out I was pregnant at the same time as my mafia husband’s childhood sweetheart Rosa. To protect her baby from being aborted by her parents, my husband claimed her baby as his own. As for mine? He coxed me, saying he will claim only after her baby was born. I confronted him, demanding to know why he would do this to me. His response was cold and unwavering: “Claiming her baby as mine was the only way to protect them both. I won’t let anything happen to her or the child.” In that moment, as I looked at the man I had loved for ten years, I realized my love for him had died. Not long after, my family condemned me, calling me a slut for having a child without a father and pressured me into getting an abortion. Meanwhile, my husband was in another city, with his sweetheart, helping her through her pregnancy. By the time he returned, I was already gone.

After a mysterious fire destroys her life, Elena Rawlings is forced into a 100-day contract marriage with the ruthless Alexander Vance. The rules are simple: don't enter the East Wing, provide bi-weekly blood draws, and never talk to the woman in the mirrors. But as the line between high-tech science and dark obsession blurs, Elena discovers she isn't a wife, she’s a biological vessel for Alexander’s digital sister. In a house made of glass and lies, Elena must decide if she will run for her life or stay to conquer the man who owns her soul.

A human. My mate? No. That wasn't right. Humans were weak. They were servants at best—slaves at worst. They didn't belong with us. They weren't made for love. I turned suddenly and slammed my fist into the stone wall beside me. The sharp crack of bone against stone echoed through the room. The boy had been dragged away, out of my sight, and I still felt the burn of his presence in my chest. My claws had already pushed out, sharp and uncontrollable. My eyes burned, the edges of my vision tinted red. The beast within me was on the edge of taking over. "He's nothing!" I roared to no one in particular. "He can't be my mate!"