Dantdm Diamond Minecart

To settle a debt of gratitude, Adriana Adler left her first love and married Chris Slater—a man who, by all appearances, was paralyzed from the waist down. For five years of marriage, he had been her husband. Before that, he'd been the protector she'd known since they were kids. She played her part as his devoted wife—the quiet shadow behind his wheelchair. Chris was certain that no matter how openly he doted on his ex-fiancée—who had just returned from overseas with a child—Adriana would never leave him. What he didn't know was that in Adriana's heart, only obligation remained. The love had died years ago. The day the truth came out, she set the divorce papers calmly in front of him. He panicked. His eyes burned as he grabbed for her, desperate, clinging like she was the only thing keeping him grounded. Adriana looked down at his legs—standing firm and strong—and felt a deep, icy quiet fill her chest. Five years of lies. Five years stolen from the man she truly loved. There would be no forgiveness. The once-untouchable Chris dropped to one knee, his eyes red-rimmed and raw. "Adriana… you're all I have left." Her expression didn't waver. Not a flicker of softness crossed her face. She stepped back toward the man she'd never stopped loving, her voice steady. "But you're not all I have, Chris." He was the power player all of high society scrambled to please—the one who'd lit up her younger years. He'd always assumed she would love him forever; it never crossed his mind she might walk away. But the poised, mixed-heritage gentleman who'd loved her all along said nothing. He simply slid a priceless diamond ring onto her finger. This was the day he had waited five years for. This was the happiness Adriana should have had all along.

My name is Violet. I was the consigliere to the Leon mafia family in New York, and I wrote the rules of this city’s underworld myself. Yet, the man I had kept by my side for ten years, Drake Leon, was now trampling all over them. Ten years was more than enough time for a stray dog to grow into a wolf that can stand on its own. A decade ago, he was hacked to pieces by enemies on the streets of Brooklyn. Covered in blood, he crawled to me like a dying dog. I took him in. I put a gun in his hand. I taught him the rules of the mafia. Step by step, using my position as the Leon mafia family’s consigliere, I groomed him to become the boss of the Manhattan port district. Ten years later, he controlled the most valuable port under the Leon family for me, and for another woman, he framed her in standing grace. When that girl named Lina showed up pregnant, wearing the blue diamond necklace my mother left me, and sat in the seat that was supposed to be mine, I didn’t lose my temper. Instead, I had someone take the pathology report from the hospital, along with the child, seal them in a gift box, and deliver them to Drake’s new estate. Half an hour later, the study door was kicked open. He stormed in, drenched in night rain, carrying the scent of gunpowder. The barrel of his gun pressed straight against my forehead. “Violet.” He stared at me, his eyes bloodshot. “You touch her child, and I’ll make sure you’re buried with her.” I stayed seated by the fireplace. I didn’t move. I simply pushed a document to the center of the table. “Don’t rush into madness.” I looked up at him and continued, “As of fifteen minutes ago, I’ve frozen three warehouses under your name, two shipping routes, and seven offshore accounts.” Only then did his expression finally change. I smiled faintly, my voice soft. “Drake, you seem to have forgotten something. The reason for your accomplishments today isn’t because you know how to pull a trigger. It’s because I allowed you to live.”