Don T Disturb

The day the Thorne family announced our engagement, the New York underworld let out a collective sigh of relief. Because I was set to marry Daemon, the most straitlaced Don in the city, which meant I could no longer be the wild rose who tore up the racetrack. But I resisted with every fiber of my being, finding creative ways to test his limits. During his ten-million-dollar card game with a rival family's Capo, my hand "slipped" and sent a bottle of 1945 Romanee-Conti spilling across the ancient map that outlined their territories, sabotaging the entire negotiation. Daemon, however, just slowly and deliberately wiped the wine from the back of his hand. He didn't even frown as he cleaned up my mess. Then I "accidentally" let my spirited Arabian stallion loose in his immaculately manicured courtyard. The beast went wild, trampling his prize-winning rose garden into mud. But he arrived with his private doctor in tow, crouching before me as his long fingers gently traced the scratch on my arm. "Did the beast hurt you?" Just that one question, and my heart melted completely. "Daemon, I can marry you. But before that, has there ever been another woman who owned your heart?" "I don't share my man. Not in any way." He pointed to his heart, his gaze unwavering as he met my eyes. "Before you, this was empty." After we married, the word on the street in New York's circles of power was this: If you angered Don Thorne, his Donna might plead your case. But if you angered the Donna, you were on your own. Even I began to believe that Daemon, that mountain of ice, would eventually melt for me. Until the day I went to find him, clutching a positive pregnancy test, bursting with joy. Only to hear the family's Consigliere ask him, from the top-floor study, what the best lie he'd ever told was. Daemon chuckled and said casually, "She asked me if anyone had my heart before her." "I told her no."

Natasha Orlova, was the only surviving relative, and daughter of a Moscow streetwalker. Though she grew up in poverty, she was full of ambition. At eighteen, she left Russia and her mother, whom she regarded as a failure, to the golden land of opportunity, America. Like many other young girls migrating to the United States, she dived into the adult industry in search of a living. Her breakthrough in the adult industry came two years later; when an American businessman took enough interest in her to marry her. He was a man involved in a deathly lethal game of crime, but it was all good; for she loved him, and he had money, and money was one thing that was essential to her life. But soon; the tides were to change. Tides, which would eventually force the confession from her,“Money Ain't Loyal." A hard-boiled Crime Thriller by Daniel Junior.

“Strip,” Lior said. Kael’s breath caught. He stood there, frozen, fear curling in his chest. Is this what my life is going to be now? he wondered. Ever since he met Lior, everything had gone wrong. They were fated—he had felt it the first time they locked eyes. That changed when Lior found out the truth. Kael’s brother was his ex. The one who had walked away. The one who chose his own fated mate and left Lior behind. After that, Lior hardened. He became ruthless. Instead of rejecting the bond, he held onto it like a weapon. He kept Kael close, punished him for someone else’s betrayal, and denied the pull that hit them both whenever they were together. Kael felt it every time Lior looked at him. Lior felt it too—but he refused to give in. The question was no longer why Lior hated him. It was whether the alpha would ever stop hurting his fated mate… or if revenge mattered more than the bond tying them together.

Lake Monteverde: adopted and a prodigal son who never follows any rules other than his own. Aniya, "My life, my own rules." Sa pagnanais na maisalba ang lupang kinatitirikan ng bahay, naging stalker si Millow nito nang mapag-alaman ng dalagang pamamay-ari ng lalake ang kinatitirikan ng nag-iisang ari-arian nila. Millow: Inosente man sa ngalan ng pag-ibig, ito ang kanyang naging misyon. "Mapapasunod kita sa nais ko, Lake Monteverde, by hook or by crook. Whatsoever!" Pero—hindi pala ganun kadali ang pinasok ni Millow. Langit at impyerno ang magiging buhay ng sinuman na magtangkang paibigin ang lalake.

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.

My best friend and my husband, Lorenzo Bartoli, fought every time they met. Lorenzo was the Don of the family, while my best friend was his Consigliere. She always fiercely opposed his most ruthless, high-risk decisions. Tempers explode every single time. But there was one rule that they both agreed on without any hesitation. No one was allowed to touch me. Because of them, no one in the city dared to cross me. Until the fifth month of my pregnancy, when I went down to the basement vault to organize Lorenzo's guns for him. I opened the safe to see stacks of letters, hundreds of them, all unsent. I picked one up. The moment I opened the letter, cold dread overwhelmed me. The receiver of the letter wasn't me. [My dearest Sofia…] I quickly scanned downward to the final lines of the letter. [If I don't make it back alive, everything in the Swissie accounts goes to you. As for Vittoria, she's a good woman, but I have never loved her.] With trembling hands, I tore open the rest of the letters like a hysterical woman. Three hundred of them in total. Every single one was addressed to Sofia Finzi. Sofia was not a stranger. She was my best friend.

Betrayed by love. Bound by revenge. Tempted by a man she never saw coming. Her world shatters when Briella discovers her fiancé and best friend making out in a club’s vip room. But heartbreak births vengeance, and her plan? Marry the enigmatic and dangerously irresistible Braun El Cueva, a man with power, secrets, and a kiss that scorches her soul. She was supposed to use him, but instead, she craves him. He was supposed to protect her, but now he wants to possess her. Can they turn a fake marriage into something real?

“She was once his weakness. Now she’s his greatest threat.” He used her like she was nothing. An innocent girl who became the plaything of the most feared mafia don in the city — Dante Moretti. No promises. No love. Just pleasure. And when she gave him the one thing he never expected — a child — he threw her away like she meant nothing. “I begged you to love me. You taught me to burn instead.” — Amara Left broken, abandoned, and pregnant, Amara vanished. But monsters aren’t the only ones who rise from the dark. Years later, she returns — no longer the fragile girl he remembers, but the woman standing beside his greatest rival. The queen who carries his biggest regret… and the power to destroy him. “You made me your weakness. I made myself your war.” Dante built an empire on blood and loyalty. But nothing will prepare him for the storm that wears the face of the woman he left behind. And this time… she’s not here to beg. She’s here to burn his world down. “I once loved you enough to kneel. Now I love myself enough to watch you fall.”

My parents died when I was ten, and I became an orphan. Darius Rossi, a mafia don, found me and took me out of the beggars' den. He wrapped me in designer clothes and raised me like a prized possession. Everyone said I would grow up to be his wife, that I was the treasure he kept close to his heart. Then came my birthday party. After a night of wild passion, he handed me a photo of his rival, Valerio Warren. He said, "Monica Arden, I've taken care of you for ten years. Now it's time for you to repay me. I'm arranging a marriage alliance with the Costa family. This is the guy Gina Costa has been crushing on, and I need you to seduce him and create an opening for me. I want her to marry me willingly." That was when I finally understood that I was never his treasure. I was just the most disposable piece on his chessboard. I followed his orders and pursued Valerio, doing exactly as he commanded. Yet, on the wedding day, Darius lost his mind when Valerio slipped the diamond ring onto my finger.

I woke in the middle of the night to my Don husband murmuring in his sleep. “Juno, be good. Tomorrow I’ll buy you and Mamma a new house.” My eyes flew open. Juno? That was the name I’d always planned for a purebred Ceylon cat I dreamed of owning, but I’d never gotten one because of my pet fur allergy. And a new house? Could this just be a coincidence? I shook him lightly. “What did you just say?” He frowned and mumbled coarsely, “Had a nightmare. Dreamt of a shootout.” I didn’t press further. In the darkness, I reached for his phone and silently opened his messages.