Don't Leave It's My Fault の小説・ストーリー

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.

"Marry him, Valentina. Or watch Klaus bleed out on this floor." My father's words were ice in my veins. I had defied Don Moretti a hundred times his cold eyes, his iron grip on everything I loved. But this time, Klaus was on his knees with a gun to his head, and love was no longer a luxury I could afford. Valentina Greco is fierce, reckless and unapologetically herself the rebellious daughter of a powerful mafia boss who wants nothing more than to choose her own fate. But fate in the mafia world is rarely yours to choose. Don Luca Moretti is ruthless, commanding and dangerously possessive. He wants Valentina and what the Don wants, he takes. I saved Klaus the only way I could. I married his enemy. I shared his bed. And I carried a secret that could burn everything to the ground because the son Moretti calls his own has another man's blood running through his veins. For years I've buried it. Survived it. Then Klaus returned powerful, dangerous and hungry to reclaim what was stolen from him. Now I'm caught between the Don who owns my name and the man who owns my heart. How long before one of them discovers the truth about Viktor?  

“No one touches what is mine and gets to live,” he replies firmly, sending a cold shiver down my spine. “Alessandro, I am not yours. I am not anyone’s property,” I argue. He laughs softly. “Okay,” he says casually, as if what I said doesn't matter. “I mean it; I will never be yours—not your property, not your plaything, and certainly not your mistress,” I've already made it clear that I won't be his mistress; I don’t know why he can’t seem to accept that. His jaw tightens, then he scoffs. “He threatened you, he touched you,” he says, his eyes narrowing. “It really didn’t matter if the device was his or not; he knew what was coming for him.” In search of her missing father, Renée, a 24 year old boudoir photographer, moves to a new country and makes a deal with the FBI. She helps them bring down the most feared Mafia Don in the country, and they help her find her father. All she has to do is seduce him and get him to lower his guard—easy. Alessandro has been married for three years to the perfect wife, the princess of the East Mafia dome. That kind of marriage makes Alessandro the leader of both the South and the East of the Mafia dome and untouchable, Ruthless. Then one night at a masquerade ball, he meets her, the seductive stranger with a different accent. She looks like the typical type of woman he would make his mistress. But is that enough? Will his world accept a woman like her? It has been a rule for as long as he can remember that certain races can't mix, at least not from where he stands. Plus, he is a married man. Everything about her is forbidden.

On the night of our third anniversary, Killian missed dinner again. Texted me he was working late at the auto shop. I looked at the $5.90 clearance cake on the table. I'd fought a crowd at the grocery store to buy it. I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat. We need to save for a real house in Brooklyn, I told myself. I put the cake in the fridge. I wrapped my cheap coat tight and walked into the cold to deliver late-night takeout for extra cash. I never expected to run into my "poor" husband at a luxury hotel in Manhattan. He stepped out of a Rolls-Royce in a sharp custom suit, tossing hundred-dollar bills to the valet. A hot woman wearing a priceless pigeon-blood ruby followed behind him, hooking his arm. "Killian, it's snowing so hard. Are you really going back to Brooklyn to play house with your naive little peasant wife?" she whined. Killian looked at the cheap, tarnished silver ring on his finger. A hint of softness crossed his cold eyes. "For three years, she worked five jobs a day to pay off the fake debts I made up. She wouldn't even see a doctor when she was sick." "That's enough. She passed my test. Once I deal with the rat in the family, I'll tell her everything. Give her the glory she deserves as my Donna." The woman bit her lip. "What if she finds out you're a Mafia Don and is just after your money? Why not tell her you have a terminal illness—see if she'll drain her savings to save you. Test her one more time…" Killian stayed quiet for a long time. Finally, he nodded. "One last test. After this, I'm giving her the grandest wedding." The freezing wind howled. I gripped the paper takeout bag. Tears rolled down my face without a sound. I am done with this arrogant, lying love.

On my wedding anniversary, I came home to rose petals and champagne. Instead of romance, I found my husband in bed with my sister—wearing the couture gown I designed for her runway debut. He called my designs "boring" and revealed the fashion house I built was actually funded by her secret investor money. The child we adopted? Her biological son with my husband, who she abandoned to chase Paris Fashion Week. I walked out in nothing but the lingerie prototype from my latest collection. In a snowstorm. Straight into an exclusive fashion week after-party where I met him: a mysterious man who mistook me for a model and offered me a drink that tasted like freedom. One night later, I owed him $100,000. Three months later, I discovered I was pregnant. And when I showed up to my job interview at the biggest fashion conglomerate in the industry, ready to prove my designs could save their failing luxury brand, the CEO sitting across from me was the same man from that night. He remembers me. He wants his money back. And he's offering me $5 million if I can take his brand from fashion week laughingstock to top five in three major shows. I took the bet. I just didn't tell him about the baby. Or that my ex-husband's textile company supplies the fabric for every major fashion house—including his.

“Eden…” Her name was a curse and a prayer. “I can’t—God, I can’t think when you’re like this.” --- Professor Adrian Hale begins the semester expecting order—sleepy students, predictable discussions, and the safe distance he’s mastered for years. He does not expect Eden Marlowe. Twenty-two, brilliant, quietly bold, and unafraid to meet his gaze like she sees straight through him. Her questions cut too close, her attention lingers too long, and every glance shakes the discipline he’s built his life on. He knows the rules. He teaches them. And Eden is the one woman he has no business wanting. Yet the pull between them is immediate—magnetic, wrong, irresistible. What starts as lingering looks spirals quickly into charged silences, taut boundaries, and moments that feel anything but innocent. The more he tries to distance himself, the deeper she draws him in. The more she pushes, the faster his restraint frays. Desire becomes risk. Obsession becomes choice. And crossing the line might cost them everything.

In this city where blood flows like water, loyalty is mandatory and power is law, Amelia learns that love can be your greatest strenght and also your biggest weakness. Amelia's world collapsed to a million pieces the day she was betrayed by her lover and sold for a price- but she ends up rescued by the one person she should never want. Don Mateo. Her ex father in law The one whose name brought fear to the hearts of many. He is the king of the underworld, who doesn't forgive, doesn't forget and never plays a losing game. Fate brought them together thanks to a fateful night and he offers her a deal: One year of marriage for his protection, power and a chance to get her revenge. But in the underworld, secrets never remain buried and weakness wasn't an option. Amelia has a choice to make- whether to run while she still can or rule with the devil.

"Mama!" Maya Lin never expected that child would come to her and utterly transform her life. He was clearly not her own flesh and blood, yet who would believe it when they saw just how strikingly alike they looked. The scandal that had rocked S city about her made Maya Lin entangled with her ex-husband, Samuel Ren. She struggled to break free from the man, but she couldn't. She was compelled to be trapped once again in a marriage that only rekindled painful memories from the past. Maya Lin was forced to accept the boy named Stelio Ren, but she couldn't, for he had taken everything that should have belonged to her deceased son. Behind all of this, there was a hidden secret deliberately concealed.

Nova Ellis has three problems. The first is Drey — her best friend, the boy who held her together when her dad died. She doesn't love him that way. She doesn't. But somehow they ended up in a school restroom doing things best friends should never do, promised each other never again, and have broken that promise five times. Five. They keep saying last time like either of them actually means it. The second is the letter. Three pages of everything she has ever felt for Leo Carter — the sweet parts, the embarrassing parts, the midnight fantasy parts that should never have left her diary. Handed to the wrong person by accident. Read out loud. Every word. The third is Rhys Caldwell. The boy who read that letter with a straight face. The boy she planned to avoid forever. The boy now living in her stepfather's house, down the hall, separated by one very thin wall. Same house. Same dinner table. Same dangerous, electric, completely impossible situation. Nova had one plan this year. One boy. One letter. She didn't plan for any of this. But the real question is — How long can you share a home with someone who already knows your deepest secret before you give them something even more dangerous? Your heart.

“Will you give me your life in exchange for your father's?” He whispered in my ears, as he traced down my face, to the skin on my neck, with the cold edge of his gun. “No… Irene, don't…,” my father begged faintly from where he lay, straining against the grip of Diego’s men. "Yes,” I blurted out, a tremor in my voice. “If that's what it takes, then… Take me!” I surrendered, closing my eyes. *** How far would you go to protect the ones you love? Would you trade your soul to the devil to save theirs? Well, I did. I, Irene Herrera, offered myself to the Mafia Devil, Diego Vargas, in exchange for my father's life. I became his captive bride. He put me through hell, yet… I refused to break. I played his game, but I made my own rules, breaking his. I challenged him at every chance, defying the Almighty Diego. He was captivated by my rebellious spirit. As we drew closer, I started to see the man behind the mask, he was hurt, lonely, and haunted by the ghost of his lost love. I was drawn to his broken heart. Soon, the lines between captor and captive blurred for us, as we lost ourselves in a flaming love affair. But what happens when I learn that my long lost sister was Diego’s ex-lover, involved in a plot to destroy him? This conspiracy arises again and Diego’s life is threatened. I face a choice to either seize this chance to escape, and leave him to die, or stay and protect the man I now love, even if it could cost me my life. Whatever choice I make, Love or survival, am I justified? What would you do if you were in my shoes?