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Ashes of the Valentino

Ashes of the Valentino

In the Valentino family, the rules were absolute—the title of Don passed only to the eldest son of the eldest line. On the day I was due to give birth, my water broke. The contractions came faster and harder, each wave of pain stronger than the last, until my consciousness began to drift. The baby's head was already crowning. Renato knelt beside the bed, gripping my hand, his eyes filled with what looked like heartbreak. I thought he would be my strength—my anchor. But through the haze, I heard him speaking to the midwife. "Control the dosage. Just delay Ellen's delivery for three hours." "But she is already fully dilated. Forcibly delaying it could be dangerous…" The midwife's voice trembled. "It's fine. She wasn't due yet anyway. She only went into labor because she secretly used induction drugs. Delaying the birth will only benefit her." Disbelief crashed over me. I tried with everything I had to speak—to explain. But then I saw him glance at his watch, murmuring to himself, "My sister-in-law is only five centimeters dilated. If we stall for three hours, my brother's child will be the eldest grandson. This is a promise I made to my brother." Terror seized me. I tried to struggle, but the needle had already pierced my skin. In an instant, the child that had been about to emerge was forced violently back into my body. The pain doubled, twisting through me like a storm. Darkness swallowed my vision, and I lost consciousness. When I came to, I had been dragged into an underground storage room. Only after his sister-in-law's son had been safely born did Renato remember me. When he returned—holding the toy he had personally made for our soon-to-be-born child—and ordered his assistant to bring me back to the operating room… All he found were two cold, lifeless bodies.
Short Story · Mafia
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The Contract Ended, and So Did I

The Contract Ended, and So Did I

Everyone knows Francesco Greco, heir to the largest mafia family in Solerio, is a notorious playboy. Yet when he swears to God that he'll love me for the rest of his life, I choose to believe him. He lives up to his words during the first year of our marriage. The Greco heir, whose presence alone terrorizes others, clings to me like a loyal puppy at home. But by the second year, he starts returning home with one lover after another. Rumors of his scandalous affairs spread, and I become the laughingstock of Solerio. On our eighth anniversary, his 99th lover taunts me in front of everyone at dinner. "Don't sleep in the master bedroom tonight," she says. "Mr. Greco and I are going to have some fun there. Also, change the sheets. I can't stand how dirty your things are." Everyone expects me to break down under such humiliation. Instead, I smile and turn on my heel. Then, I dial Madre Greco's number. "Madre, it's been eight years," I say, my voice steady. "It's time for me to leave."
Short Story · Mafia
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Across a Lifetime, Never Again

Across a Lifetime, Never Again

Stanley Hamilton and I were basically Southport's favorite hate-watch couple. For Elodie—my oh-so-perfect adopted sister—he wrecked my company and had my parents thrown in prison. I, in turn, drove Elodie to her death, making him watch as she jumped off a rooftop. Our forced marriage? Just a slow ride from mutual disgust straight into mutual destruction. Then came the car explosion. Stanley, who'd hated me forever, still used his last breath to shove me out of the blast. "Vivienne Weston, one lifetime tangled with you is enough. If there's a next one, let's never meet." He touched the tattoo of Elodie's name on his neck, smiling faintly as the flames took him. After he died, I wandered through life half-dead myself until illness finished the job. When I woke up in the past, staring at two betrothal contracts, I didn't hesitate—I picked the guy everyone swore was insane. Stanley and my dad? I handed them right back to Elodie. This time, I wanted no meetings, no memories, no strings. Ever again.
Short Story · Romance
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Faking Her Death to Ski with Him

Faking Her Death to Ski with Him

Everyone in our social circle knew that my fiancée, Hazel Mullins, had a skin hunger condition toward me. Only touching me brought her excitement and satisfaction. But the self-proclaimed heartthrob and heir to the Newman family refused to believe it. He boldly declared that he would win her over within a month. After bombarding her with seductive photos for an entire month, Hazel finally reached her breaking point and auctioned them off. With his reputation ruined, Rory Newman was disowned by his family. In a fit of rage, he jumped off a bridge in an apparent suicide attempt. Hazel lost her mind and leaped after him. I became the biggest laughingstock in the circle. That was until I went skiing in the Alps and accidentally bumped into Hazel helping Rory select ski gear. She explained with a composed expression, "Rory's dealing with some serious emotional trauma. The doctor suggested more outdoor activities. Just please, don't throw another tantrum." I felt bewildered. I wasn't even involved with them anymore. Why would I get upset? Then it hit me that she was unaware of one fact. I had already married someone else on the same day she jumped into the water after Rory in that dramatic display of devotion. I was simply there for my honeymoon, with a bit of skiing on the side.
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Bound by Contract: Healed by Love

Bound by Contract: Healed by Love

What begins as a simple, heartfelt question soon unfolds into an emotional journey filled with uncertainty, hope, and unexpected challenges.
Romance
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Her Regret Came Too Late

Her Regret Came Too Late

Three years ago, my childhood sweetheart, Eleanor Carter, left me at the altar to marry Dillan Perez—the adopted son of my family. The church erupted in whispers. I became the laughingstock in a single breath. Then Victoria Brown—the aloof, formidable CEO of the Brown Group—stepped forward. "I'll marry you, Lambert," she said, her voice cutting through the wreckage of my pride. I said yes. For three years, she was the perfect wife. Gentle. Attentive. She was my salvation. But there was one thing that always hung between us like a quiet ache—we never had a child. The doctors found nothing wrong with either of us. Victoria would just smile softly and say, "It will happen when the time is right." Today, I came home early. The door to our bedroom was slightly open. I heard her voice. She was on the phone with her best friend. I didn't mean to listen. But then I heard my name. "Lambert wants a child with me," she said. "But he doesn't know I've been on birth control the whole time. That's why we never got pregnant." My blood turned cold. "As long as he has no heir," she continued, "Dillan's place in the Clark family stays secure." I stood there, frozen. My hands went cold. My heart shattered into pieces. I was just a tool to protect the man she truly cared for. I didn’t confront her. Instead, I calmly planned my death—a quiet disappearance from her world.
Short Story · Romance
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When the Last Rejection Turned Into a Plea

When the Last Rejection Turned Into a Plea

Rocco Falcone, who is the Falcone family's Don and my so-called husband, hangs up on me for what feels like the 99th time. Having been diagnosed with leukemia, I haul my ravaged body into the family lawyer's office. "I'm here to file for a divorce," I said. … When Rocco hears about it, he barges in with my family ten minutes later. The moment he enters, he slaps me. "Did you use the emergency line just to ruin Sofia's big night? Are you out of your mind?" Lily Marone, my mom, snatches the diagnosis right out of my hand and skims through it. She chuckles dismissively. "Did you fake being sick just to get attention? How many lies have you told since you were a kid, Claire?" Sofia Moretti holds Rocco's arm with tears in her eyes. "Forgive me, Claire. I shouldn't have taken the position. Please stop hurting yourself and Rocco." I wipe the blood from my mouth and turn back to the lawyer. "I have no family left. Please hurry with the divorce paperwork. I need it settled before my cremation in three days."
Short Story · Mafia
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Reborn: Falling for the Scoundrel (On Purpose)

Reborn: Falling for the Scoundrel (On Purpose)

Walter Stone has built a utopia for his private brothel with a ton of money with the proclamation that he wants to collect 100 wives. After kidnapping and forcing himself on 99 women, Walter has his eye on me, Caleb Ingram's pregnant wife. On the day I'm supposed to be sent to Walter, my housekeeper sinks down to her knees and pleads for me. "Please think your decision through, Mr. Ingram! I heard that Mr. Stone Senior is very brutal when it comes to bedroom matters! If Mrs. Ingram were to be sent to him, I'm afraid that she wouldn't be able to protect her unborn baby…" But Caleb remains cold and aloof. "Since Mr. Stone Senior has personally asked for Nala, she has to go to him no matter what. If she loses the baby, then that's that. At most, I won't file for a divorce from her. Once she returns, she'll still remain as the missus of the Ingram family. We can have another baby in the future." In my previous life, I refused to travel to Walter's residence. In the end, Caleb's private assistant, Sadie Riverson, offered to go in my place. But the moment she came back, she slit her wrist and died. The coroner's autopsy report showed that she was pregnant as well. Caleb kept his emotions bottled up since then. But on the day I gave birth to my baby, he walked to the rooftop of the hospital and threw our newborn down the building. Only then did I realize that he had been hating my guts the whole time since Sadie's death. Now that I've gotten reborn, I no longer resist against the chains of fate. Instead, I get into the luxury car Walter has sent for me coolly.
Short Story · Rebirth
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Neon Lies

Neon Lies

In the third year of our marriage, Adrian Jones made me play a game of truth or dare—and when I lost, he told me to take the place of a nightclub hostess and perform a striptease. "Macie's too timid," he said. "You dance for her." Laughter erupted around us. "Adrian's a real sport—letting us watch his wife put on a show!" "Liliana's got a body to die for. I'm burning up just looking at her." Drenched in humiliation, surrounded by crude stares and filth, I finally cracked. My voice shook. "Adrian… I want a divorce." Before I could say more, a glass of red wine hit me square in the face. Adrian scoffed, "The Shaw family's already bankrupt. Where exactly do you think you'll go without me?" However, this time, I meant it. I was done.
Short Story · Romance
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Too Late, Alpha: I'm Dead

Too Late, Alpha: I'm Dead

I volunteer to be the mate of Carl Wood, the Alpha of the Nightfall pack, as a direct measure to resolve the conflict between our two packs. He marks me on a full moon night. His gaze is so fervent in that moment that I interpret his look as a genuine sign of his attraction. Carl personally leads the elite fighters across the border two years later. He grabs my head, making me witness the gruesome dismantling of my mother, father, and brother by the pack; his gaze is alight with vengeful satisfaction. "Did your father show mercy during our youth when he destroyed my pack, Aria? Do you truly believe that having you here is enough to make up for this vengeance?" Carl assumes the position as the most powerful Alpha of the northern region, with Selena Hall established at his side as his Luna. I am kept barely alive, imprisoned in the depths of the dungeon in the pack. If I attempt to end my life, Carl retrieves the bones of a relative from the cemetery and incinerates them right in front of me, bellowing with bloodshot eyes, "You're not allowed to die unless I allow you to, Aria!" I immediately cease all resistance after that. Carl's heart was pierced by a silver-tipped arrow during his escape years ago. I had to implore the dark witch to use dark magic and substitute my sound heart for his. There are only three days left before the poison completely takes hold of me.
Short Story · Werewolf
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