Don't Drop The Soap

“ผมอยากผูกปิ่นโตว่าน สัญญาสามเดือน เดือนละแสน มีคอนโดให้อยู่ มีรถให้ขับ ว่านสนใจหรือเปล่า? ถ้าสนใจ... ทดลองงานก่อนนะครับ”

Pada hari aku yang mengajukan perceraian, Mark langsung menyiapkan surat perjanjian cerai dengan tidak sabar. Lima tahun lalu, dia terpaksa menikahiku. Kini, akhirnya dia benar-benar bebas. Di hari kami mengurus proses perceraian, Mark datang bersama cinta sejatinya. Wajahnya penuh kegembiraan dan sindiran. "Karen, akhirnya kamu berakhir semenyedihkan ini." Aku menatap punggungnya yang perlahan mengabur dalam pandanganku. Menyedihkan ya? Di kehidupan berikutnya, tidak akan lagi.

The night before our 17th wedding attempt, my mafia husband, Rafaeal Holloway, looks at me and promises an uninterrupted wedding. He solemnly swears. "Gianna, I promise you. I told Natalia that even if the sky falls, she'll deal with it alone." I am five months pregnant by then. After three years of dating and five months carrying his child, we've never managed to make it down the aisle because he's canceled the past 16 weddings. Every single time, it's for his sworn sister, Natalia Sullivan. The first time, she claims she has a fever. I spend the whole night at the hospital, still in my wedding dress, just to find out she has a mild cold. The second time, she claims her chest hurts. Rafael abandons me mid-wedding and rushes to her side, while she's out laughing over afternoon tea with friends. The third time, she cries for fear of thunder. He bolts mid-vows and leaves me alone in a hall full of staring guests. But everything's different now. Three days ago, a letter arrived from Northern Silenzio. My father, the Don of the Rossetti family, has finally summoned me home. If Rafael walks away for Natalia one more time, I'll leave for good.

“Louder,” he said while watching me like a predator ready to strike, “I-I belong to you,” I stuttered while swallowing the lump formed in my throat. “To?” he gritted his teeth, “Nikolai Vasiliev,” *** Nikolai Vasiliev, the most feared and respected don of the Russian mafia. He was known as the ruthless king of the mafia whose world revolves around blood and lust. Love is forbidden to him as he promised himself not to love again. Juliana Mitchell, a brave, stubborn, hardworking and beautiful woman leaving her normal life, dreaming to find her happily ever after. All her life she was constantly reminded that she’s useless and ugly compared to her younger sister which made her doubt herself all the time. One encounter with the Russian don changed her life completely, pulling her into a web of lies, manipulation and pure torture. She’s ready to do anything to get away from his clutches but the question is, Will he let someone walk away from him the second time?

[COMPLETED]They say love can be a beautiful thing. But for me, it's a twisted waking nightmare. Edmondo D'Avi, the ruthless Don of the North, doesn't just love me. He has claimed me. And he owns me. And his words? "...I Saved you, so I own you, Cara..." "I hate it, Cara. I hate it all." ".....when men look at you, I'd gouge their eyes out." "If they get too close, I'll pull out my gun." "If they talk to you as much, I'd ensure they’ll never speak again." "I dare you, Cara, to smile at ONE of them, and watch me shoot ALL of them dead..." He also hated the way they admired my red hair, so he dyed it black. And when that wasn’t enough, he cut it off. I, Cara La Rosa, am bound to a psychopath by a single oath I was forced into and dare not break: to become his Donna. I never had the chance to refuse. Possession. Obsession. Manipulation. Lies. Dark truths. Betrayals. Revenge. And all of it that suffocates every single breath I take is tangled with the one thing that keeps me alive: LOVE. I love Edmondo D'Avi. But love isn’t kind. It doesn’t protect. It consumes. Now, I’m caught in a world of ruthless power, where loyalty is a weapon and betrayal is a breath away. The question is no longer whether I’ll survive. It’s whether I’ll lose myself to his darkness... or become the darkness he moulds me to be. In the end, the choices are: Surrender or SURRENDER!

Él susurró el nombre de ella novecientas noventa y nueve veces mientras dormía. Nunca el mío. Durante cinco años, le di todo a Vincent Bonanno, el heredero de una de las dinastías mafiosas más poderosas de Europa. Hice de su casa un hogar, recordé cada detalle descuidado que soltaba e incluso abandoné mi sueño de convertirme en artista, creyendo que un día, finalmente, me elegiría. Pero cada vez que aparecía Alessia, su lealtad se inclinaba hacia ella. La noche en que el fondue hirviente me dejó cicatrices en los brazos, él se apresuró a protegerla de un rasguño que apenas le enrojeció la piel. En público, su mirada nunca se quedaba conmigo, en cambio solo se perdía en ella. Yo era la esposa ante la ley, más nunca lo fui en la práctica. Así que me marché. Solo con una maleta, los papeles del divorcio que firmó sin darse cuenta y un secreto que nunca planeé compartir: tenía tres meses de embarazo. Él se dio cuenta demasiado tarde. Para ese momento, el divorcio ya era real, al igual que el expediente de la clínica. Y para cuando se dio cuenta, yo había desaparecido. En aquel momento, el hombre que alguna vez gobernaba ciudades con un poder despiadado, estaba dispuesto a poner el mundo patas arriba para encontrarnos. Él tenía soldados, dinero y mil disculpas que nunca me dio cuando yo todavía era su esposa. Pero yo ya no era la mujer que suplicaba por su afecto. Era una madre, una artista y una sobreviviente. La pregunta no era si Vincent podía alcanzarme. La cuestión era si, cuando lo hiciera, alguna vez lo dejaría volver a la vida que destruyó.

The sixth year I gave up my family, my name, everything, to be with Marcus. That’s when I found out I was just a stand-in for the one he could never forget. And now, she was back. I accepted my family’s arrangement. The marriage alliance. The day my engagement dress arrived at the office, Marcus looked pissed. “I thought we agreed we’d get married when my career was more stable.” I said nothing. But when the wedding invitation arrived, Marcus finally broke. The groom wasn't him. It was the heir to the Moretti family.

My husband, Don Lorenzo, ran New York's underworld. And he's the one who put me in prison. All because his childhood flame, Cassandra Viti—the Viti family princess—killed my father. I was the first one on the scene. The Feds caught me standing over the body. He faked the evidence. Made sure I took the fall. I spent three years in hell. His apology? A single sentence and an unlimited black card. "I owe Cassandra three wishes. Once you're out, once I've paid my debt to her, you'll be my Donna again."

I was about to kill my mother's murderer…until he almost killed me first. As the daughter of a respected policeman, justice burned in my blood. I watched my mother die at the hands of a Mafia Lord. And I swore to make him pay. But when I confronted Don Theron, I didn't expect to be wrapped up in his arms, his grip choking life out of me. “Say your last prayers, princess,” he growls, tightening his grip like the devil he was. I struggled, I gasped for air, my heart raced but there was no saving from this doom. I thought I was done for. But then he let me go. But my freedom wasn't a gift, it came with a heavy price–a gruesome curse. In a twisted deal with my father, the man who murdered my mother became my husband. Now, every morning I wake up beside a monster who's cloaked in charm, secrets and control. My soul still burns for vengeance, his soul thrives on possession. And with every day that passes by, I wonder… Will I ever make it out of here alive?

I was the Falcone family's top consigliere. Their brain. And today, I was walking away—handing over the books to every legitimate business I ran, severing my final tie. My protégé couldn't understand. "You're the future of this family, Aurelia. You can't just leave." I shook my head with a bitter smile. They didn't know. I'd been secretly married to the Don, Vittorio Falcone, for three years. I thought my looks, my mind, and everything I gave him would be enough to win all of his love. A hit at the docks three months ago showed me the truth. I took a bullet. Emergency. I needed the family surgeon—which required Vittorio's direct order. I called him over a dozen times. But when he finally answered, all I heard was a soft, breathless voice on his end. "Vittorio, we haven't cut my birthday cake. Will you hold my hand and cut it with me?" That voice. My best friend. The woman Vittorio once had a crush on. Carina. In the safe house, weak from blood loss, I dug the bullet out myself and had one of my men rush me to a family clinic. Right before they wheeled me into the OR, Vittorio burst in—carrying Carina. Twisted ankle. Needed a doctor. Now. My surgeon was dragged away. The antibiotics came too late. The wound got infected. I fought for my life for a week. When I woke up, I stared at my phone. Not a single message. The tears finally came. I understood. I was just the woman he'd been forced to marry after he was drugged and slept with me. A scandal averted. All he cared about was my value and his reputation. And me? The secret princess of the Rossi family, who gave up everything to build his empire. All for nothing. So I prepared four parting gifts. A celebration of our mutual destruction. Then he'd never see me again.