Don't Settle For Less

Soy la mejor falsificadora de arte y especialista en inteligencia de Chicago. Y me enamoré del hombre que lo poseía todo, Don Vincenzo Russo. Durante diez años, fui su secreto, su arma y su mujer. Construí su imperio desde las sombras. Pensé que recibiría un anillo. Después de todo, cada noche que estaba en esta ciudad, estaba enterrado dentro de mí, tomando su placer. Me susurraba que yo era suya y que nadie más se sentía tan bien. Pero esta vez, después de terminar conmigo, anunció que se casaría con la princesa rusa de la Bratva, Katerina Petrov. Ahí fue cuando lo supe. Yo no era su mujer. Solo era un cuerpo. Por una alianza, por ella, me sacrificó. Me dejó morir. Así que destruí cada pieza de la vida que me dio. Hice una llamada a mi padre en Italia. Y luego, desaparecí. Pero cuando el Don, dueño de Chicago, no pudo encontrar su juguete favorito... se volvió loco.

Seraphina Smith lived for the spotlight, a prima ballerina bathed in its every glow. But when a powerful sponsor fixates on her, that light morphs into a cage. Desperate, she flees, tumbling from her world of grace into the brutal, shadowed realm of Hugo Volkov, a ruthless underground boxer. He's an unexpected refuge, a dangerous calm in the storm she barely survived. Yet, as their forbidden connection deepens, Seraphina discovers her escape was just the beginning. The man she ran from is merely a ghost compared to the true threat, and Hugo Volkov isn't just her unlikely protector—he's the very reason her life is about to shatter all over again.

Everyone in New York knew I was the Godfather’s heart. Gavin Whitestone’s heart. He loved me for ten years. He’d fly into a rage if I so much as got a paper cut. But he’s the one who gave me these three scars. The first time, he pulled every doctor to treat Sofia, the girl who took a bullet for him, and ignored the shrapnel tearing into my side. The second time, he was drugged and fucking Sofia in his bed. When I walked in on them, he shoved me aside, desperately carrying her to the hospital. The third time, he took my father's last gift to me—a revolver—and gave it to a pregnant Sofia, just to make her smile. He told me, “It’s all for the baby. Once the baby is born, we’ll go back to how we were.” But this time, I didn't forgive him. I threw away every gift he ever gave me and vanished without a trace. And that’s when the untouchable Godfather finally broke.

"I may be blind, Rain, but trust me, I’ll never miss the right hole or the perfect positions to put you in. My eyes don’t stop me from taking you until your legs give out. Open wide for me, wifey." Enzo Salvatore DeLuca, the ruthless billionaire mafia don, was untouchable—until the accident that stole his sight. Now, with time running out, he needs an heir to secure his legacy, and Rain is forced to take her stepsister's place as his bride. Rain always dreamed of a Christmas wedding with the perfect husband, but marrying a blind stranger wasn’t in her fantasies. How could a man who couldn’t see fulfill her wildest desires? He’d need help with everything, and she couldn’t imagine how he’d live up to the man she’d always fantasized about. What she doesn’t know is that he sees every move she makes, from the constant bite of her lips whenever he talks, to the way she walks around naked in the room, thinking he wouldn’t see her anyway, down to the way she watches him with longing whenever he’s changing. What he lacks in sight, he makes up for in raw intensity, dominance, and an ability to give her everything she never dared to ask for. He doesn’t do love. He doesn’t do gentle. But with Rain, he might just find more than the healing he never thought possible, and the revenge he had been seeking. "If you ask me, the only reason I need eyes is to see your eyes rolling back when I fuck you. But for now, baby girl, I want to hear it. Let me hear you moan for me.”

I had been trying to get pregnant for six months. Ernest Marino, the Don of the Marinos, would personally make me a herbal brew every day to ensure that my body was properly nurtured. He watched me tenderly as I drank the brew and whispered into my ear, "You're a good girl, Mia. You need to drink this, no matter how bad it tastes, for the sake of our baby." When my full black hair started to fall, and my gums began to bleed for no good reason, I found out that it was not medicine I was drinking. It was an immunosuppressant. Ernest had spent six months showering me with adoration, turning me into the perfect organ donor. The herbal brew I had been consuming would make it so that the recipient, his precious stepsister with uremia, would not experience rejection symptoms. He thought that I was a woman who could be treated anyway he wanted. However, he had no idea that I was a Corleone. I was from Severia's oldest, most ruthless mafia family, the Corleones.

I had been married to Alexander for three years. Everyone feared his ruthlessness, but he had always been incredibly gentle with me. But ever since Elena took a bullet for him during a shootout six months ago, everything changed. He always said she got hurt saving him, so I had to be accommodating. At the family’s most prestigious gala, my husband—the Don, Alexander—arrived with his secretary, Elena, on his arm. Pinned to her chest was the ruby brooch that symbolized the position of the Donna of the family. "Elena took a bullet for me. She liked the brooch, so I let her borrow it for a while. Regardless, you are the only donna here. Try to show some class." I didn't argue with him. I just removed my wedding ring and pulled out the divorce papers: "Since she likes it so much, she can have it. Including this seat next to you. I'm giving that up, too." Alexander signed without hesitation, a cold smile on his face. "What kind of manipulative trick are you playing now? You're an orphan, separated from your family, you won't survive three days in Sicily. I'll wait for you to come back begging me." I took out an encrypted satellite phone I hadn't used in three years. Alexander didn't know that I was actually the youngest daughter of the oldest Mafia family in Europe. But my family and Alexander’s had always been enemies. To marry him, I had changed my name and even severed ties with my father and brothers. The call connected. I took a deep breath and whispered, "Papa, I regret it. Send someone to pick me up in two weeks."

On the night of my wedding, my husband, the Don, kissed my trembling body while telling me not to be afraid. However, the next second, he personally handed me off to 30 men. "Your virginity is theirs for five million per person." I screamed when I woke up from the dream. Fortunately, it was just a nightmare. But on the day of our wedding, I saw a man with a scar on his face sitting next to the stage. He was one of the men from my dream. I accidentally heard him talking on the phone, "That's five million well spent. I can't wait to take her to bed." As I turned to make my escape, I heard the footsteps behind me getting nearer. My phone suddenly rang, and it was Owen Thorne calling me. "We're coming for you, honey."

Milo never expected survival to look like this. At twenty-one, he’s spent most of his life drifting, bruised by the world and too soft to fight back. His beauty makes people underestimate him; his fragility makes them think they can shape him. Isaak is a walking contradiction: cold-eyed, dark-inked, and terrifyingly controlled. At thirty-one, he has carved his body and his life into hard, elegant precision. Power clings to him as naturally as oxygen, and people follow him even when they don’t understand why. To him, Milo isn’t fragile. He’s fascinating. He’s something worth remaking. Kasym, older by barely a year, is the opposite—a broad, golden-haired monolith of warmth and violence. He smiles easily, loves fiercely, and destroys without remorse. Under his tattoos and bruised knuckles lies a heart that has bled too often, yet still hungers for someone to protect. He sees Milo’s softness and doesn’t want to change it. He wants to guard it with his teeth. But three hearts are not easily aligned. Isaak’s possessiveness clashes with Kasym’s tenderness, and both men fear that the softness they worship will shatter under the weight of their devotion. Milo must learn to navigate two hungers, two ways of loving that demand more than he has ever given. The question isn’t whether he belongs to them—it’s whether they can learn to belong to each other without destroying the boy who binds them. This is a love story built not on simplicity but on collision—where surrender becomes power, devotion becomes war, and three lives entwine in a bond too fierce to break.

My mom is 71 years old. Thanks to her arthritis acting up, she's in so much pain that she can't descend the stairs at all. She tentatively calls me and asks if she can rent an apartment that comes with an elevator of its own. But my wife, Lucy Glaser, brings out the household ledger and points at the red numbers on the pages. "Last month, you bought yourself a tie, which is 300 dollars beyond our monthly budget. Yet now you're planning on adding another impulsive expense?" Only then do I realize that I don't even have the freedom to buy myself a tie despite earning an annual salary of tens of millions of dollars. My mom is still trying to explain herself in a humble tone over the phone. "Oh, please don't feel troubled about it, Caleb. I was just asking on a whim. I've already grown used to my old home anyway…" After I end the call, I feel rather stuffy in my chest. What's there for me to feel troubled about? After all, I'm a partner of a top-tier law firm who earns tens of millions of dollars every year. The one who keeps standing in my way is Lucy, who's only a mid-level lawyer yet insists on controlling my finances. She also calls herself the best candidate for the household asset allocation.

I thought I buried them in the past, but oh, was I wrong. Five years ago, my father told me to protect the pack even if it meant framing three boys I barely knew. The Alpha triplets, golden boys, were responsible for my mother’s death. I thought they were gone for good. But now they’re back. Stronger, Colder, ready to drown in the blood of their enemies, me. And somehow... the Moon has chosen them as my mates. They don’t want love. They want revenge. And I’m the girl wearing the crown they swore to destroy. They were my enemies, my mates. I could run. I could fight. But in this school, there’s nowhere to hide. And I was no coward. I would never submit, even if it meant going through hell for the crimes I didn't fully understand. And the worst part? This cursed mate bond. The heat, the lust, the pull. I hate them. They hate me. And still, my body burns for them. They were my biggest punishment and in a twisted way, my salvation.