Novel & Cerita Counter Attack Reviews

Even the street punks knew that in Chicago, Catherine Leone was untouchable. I had three deadly protectors watching my back. My husband, Raphael Falcone, was the youngest underboss in the Chicago Outfit. He was known for his cold, iron-fisted rule, yet in a crowded room, he would kneel to adjust the hem of my gown. My childhood friend, Luca Vizzini, the family's brilliant new consigliere. He'd sworn to protect me since we were kids. And my twin brother, Salvatore Leone, who cherished me above all else. He took over the family at eighteen and treated me like royalty, making me the most envied Principessa in the underworld. On my twenty-eighth birthday, I waited in the living room all day, clutching a pregnancy test with two solid lines, ready to share the news that would change everything. Instead, they brought me my brother's body, murdered by a drug dealer hailed as a hero. And standing before me was my husband, Raphael Falcone, ready to clear the murderer's name. "Tell me why," A scream clawed at my throat, but I fought it down, "You know damn well who the murderer is." "Catherine, control yourself." It was Luca Vizzini, my childhood friend, who tied my hands. "Salvatore's gone, but you still have us. You're still Mrs. Falcone, still the Principessa of the Leone family." "The Leones have looked after Chiara for years. You know her father is all she has." They wanted me to confess to my brother’s fabricated crimes and apologize to Chiara. But they forget. Before I was Raphael's wife, I was Catherine Leone. A master hacker who could breach any system. I will deliver my own justice in ways they cannot imagine. And I will make them regret it.

On Thanksgiving, my husband Steven Mandel showed up with another woman. Not just anyone—Fiona Osborne, his first love. She had Alzheimer's and only remembered him. And yeah, he said she was moving in. Steven's eyes were ice. "Erica, I stayed away from Fiona out of duty. But I'm not wasting what time I have left without her." Happy 50th anniversary to me. No gift—just a slap-in-the-face love confession. Maya, my daughter-in-law, tried to talk some sense into him, bless her. Then Anton—my own son—cut in. "Mom already kept Dad away from Fiona for years. She's tied ME to you for half my life. Now Dad just wants to take care of the woman he loves—what's so wrong with that?" Steven stepped in front of Fiona like some kind of hero. "Anton's right. Erica, I let you play the wife role for decades. Now, I want to be with the woman I truly love. "If you can't handle that, let's just get a divorce." I stood there, frozen. I'd walked away from a powerhouse law career for this family after we had Anton. I thought I had given everything, and in their eyes, I would be a perfect wife and a perfect mother. But today made it clear—I was never enough. No matter how much I gave, it was never going to be enough. I turned to Maya. She was crying. "You wanna get divorced together?"

Before the pack's Winter Solstice festival, I was given a Moonwater Mirror, forged from the waters of the Moon Goddess Spring. But the face staring back at me wasn't my own. It was my face, but younger. The girl I was eight years ago. Her eyes were bright with a joy I hadn't felt in years. When she realized I was from her future, she practically vibrated with excitement. "Our fated mate, Alpha Owen, he confessed today! He's going to plant moonflowers around the lake cabin. He'll stay with me for every full moon. He promised to make me his one and only Luna forever!" Her voice was full of hope for the future. Her joy was a bitter reminder of what I'd lost. I listened quietly, only managing a faint smile. My reaction must have given me away. Her excited chatter died. Her gaze drifted over my shoulder, taking in the cold, empty penthouse behind me. "Wait... where's Owen?" Her smile faltered. "We're happy, right? After eight years?" I didn't say a word. I just slowly, deliberately, turned the Moonwater Mirror toward the terrace. There, my Alpha mate, Owen, had another she-wolf pinned to the railing. Their mouths were fused, their breaths mingling in the cold night air.

While collecting samples in Antarctica, I was caught in a blizzard. When I finally made it back to the vehicle, I found the fuel tank drained and my thermal suit shredded into rags. I screamed for help, but laughter crackled through the communicator. It was the voice of my husband's childhood sweetheart. "No need to rescue her, you guys! Sophie's got the world record for low-temperature endurance! "Today, let's see if she can hike across the ice in a T-shirt, all on livestream!" Then came my husband's doting voice. "Baby, I've already spoken to the manager. If she pulls this off, you'll get your spot in next month's expedition!" That was when I understood. My husband had turned me into a stepping stone for her future. As I shivered violently in the cold, I begged, "Please, Zachary. After all our years of marriage…" Before I could finish, he cut me off coldly. “Save your body heat and keep walking. Luna's future depends on you. "You've got the stamina anyway, so just hold on for another five kilometers!" At that moment, my heart froze solid. If they wanted me dead, then I would make sure they froze at the base instead. With trembling hands, I raised the axe, aiming it directly at the base's heating pipes.

For our seventh anniversary, my mate, Alpha Ethan, sent my daughter and me to the Moon Goddess Altar. He told me it was a surprise—to give our daughter her dream of watching a meteor shower from the highest peak in the territory. But Ethan never came. The protective runes at my feet sputtered, then died. The ground beneath us began to crumble. My daughter screamed, her small body sliding toward the abyss. I lunged, grabbing her hand just before she went over the edge. I screamed his name through our mind-link. Ninety-nine times, he refused to answer. On my hundredth cry, the link didn't just open—it was ripped wide. It wasn’t his voice that answered. It was his senses, flooding mine. I saw it all. Him. Another she-wolf. And him, buried deep inside of her. "I knew you loved me, Ethan," her sickly-sweet voice purred. "You even sacrificed Marcus, just to save our Leo from the soul-sickness. I'll do anything for you." Ethan’s voice was velvet and ice. "Stop. If Sera hadn't betrayed me, you never would have had the chance to carry my heir. Once I get rid of her other pup—Jullian's bastard—we can be perfect again." My world shattered. My son... Rogues. I'd always believed rogues had stolen him. But it was his own father. He sacrificed him for a lie. With my last ounce of strength, I called Julian. "I'm breaking my bond with Ethan," I snarled into the new link. "Make me your Luna. In return, I will help you burn his pack to the ground."

A month before my marking ceremony with Jim Luther, my dad, Frank Jackson, was exiled. Jim personally ordered him exiled to the wasteland without even explaining anything to me. "Kelly says someone leaked our pack's secret files, and we found them on your father's phone. Who else could it be?" My dad had come to attend my marking ceremony, yet because of what Kelly Chase said, Jim exiled him. "If you don't give me a reasonable explanation, he'll stay in the wasteland forever. "I won't abandon you just because of your father's actions. Our marking ceremony will proceed as planned in a month." I was devastated by the thought of my dad suffering in the wasteland. If this was how Jim treated my family and me, I didn't want to be with him anymore.

My son has a high fever, so I call my husband. However, he thinks I'm using our child to get his attention. Then, he takes his true love's son to the hospital when he's only scratched his finger. I look at my son, whose face is pale. I ask, "Do you want another father?" He nods. "Yeah. Dad doesn't like me, so I don't want to like him anymore." Later, I find him another father. That's when my husband objects.

By year four of our marriage, Scott had picked up a college girl—Gigi. Bright, beautiful, full of life. She had him, a billionaire, eating street food and chasing after her favorite esports player. Scott called. "Not coming home. Watching Joel Arnoult's match." Beside him, Gigi scoffed. "That boring old woman—does she even know who Joel Arnoult is?" They had no clue. The second the call ended, Joel had me pinned in the back of a dimly lit car. His teeth grazed my neck—sharp, teasing, a little painful. "Leila, if I win, how are you gonna reward me?"

At sixty-five, I got served divorce papers. The same day, my husband Sebastian — decked out in his wedding suit, of all things — popped a handful of sleeping pills in a suicide attempt. For years, we were the perfect couple. The kind of pair neighbors whispered about with envy. I couldn't wrap my head around it. The divorce. The pills. None of it made sense. Not until I found the photo and letter in his pocket.

To pay off my family's debt, I was forced to marry a comatose mafia heir. The city's elite were all waiting to see me become a young widow. On our wedding night, I used a damp towel to wipe down the still form on the bed. Suddenly, a lazy chuckle met my ear. "Enjoying the view?" I snapped my head up. A translucent man leaned casually against the nightstand, his long legs crossed, a smirk on his lips as he watched me with amusement. He nodded toward the "corpse" on the bed and raised an eyebrow. "Don't waste your energy. I can't feel the cold. How about we make a deal? You help me deal with the traitors in my family." I stared at his ghostly form, then calmly wrung out the towel into the basin. "Deal. But I want half the Volpe family fortune."