Fake Report Card

I was a brilliant artist. But I crushed my right hand saving my mafia husband, Vincent, and my ability to create died with it for three years. Vincent promised he'd make me whole again. Our private doctor swore he was doing everything he could. But my hand remained numb, useless. Then, one day, I overheard a conversation that shattered my world. "Make sure she can never create again," Vincent told the doctor. "I can't have Isabella threatening Sophia's place in the art world!" "But, Mr. Torrino, another procedure might... she could lose the hand for good." "I don't care what happens to her! Sophia saved my life. I will not let her down!" It turned out my husband was the one who had destroyed me. And the assassin, Sophia, was the woman he truly loved. He let her claim my designs, turning her into the art world’s new darling while I was trapped in a broken body. When I confronted him, pregnant with our child, he slapped me in public and told the world I was losing my mind. That night, I burned everything that bound me to him. Then I dialed an encrypted number I hadn't used in what felt like a lifetime. "Grandpa. In three days, I need to disappear."

My sister and I married into the Phoenix Clan at the same time and, coincidentally, gave birth at the same time. After my sister birthed a purebred golden phoenix, the eldest prince she married was immediately crowned the next leader of the Phoenix Clan. Meanwhile, I gave birth to a mixed-bred pheasant and was condemned to death along with my husband, who was the second prince. It was only after my death that I found out the pheasant was my sister’s child! It was a ploy concocted by her and the eldest prince. The goal was to hide the bastard bloodline of the eldest prince and steal the throne of the Phoenix Clan. When I opened my eyes again, I realized I had been reborn. I didn't give birth, and my sister was visiting me with a haul of supplements…

It was only on our first wedding anniversary that I realized the rubbers I bought before our wedding had long expired. No one would believe that my mafia husband, Andre Garcia, and I had never consummated our marriage. That night, I gathered my courage and bought a suggestive nightgown. After downing three glasses of whisky, I hugged Andre tightly and whispered in his ear, "Darling, let's do it today. I want you..." However, Andre shook my hand off indifferently as if he were handling a gun. "Danielle Lawson, do you have no shame? You've done such shameless things time and time again. If you're really that lonely, I'll order you some toys so you can play with them to your heart's content." My face turned deathly pale as I stood there, stunned. I could not understand why a wife begging for her husband's affection was considered 'shameless' behavior. I curled up on the couch, unable to help but ask on social media. Danielle: [My husband has no dysfunction. Why won't he touch me after marriage?] Someone replied: [Perhaps your husband has someone else.] Like a dagger, that comment pierced me awake. I suddenly realized—maybe the problem was not that I was unattractive but rather that he was never mine. The moment I deleted my account, I also made the decision to leave. Who could have imagined that Andre, who would usually not even glance at me, would frantically search for me after I disappeared? "Danielle, I can't get a hard-on after you left!"

"I don't think it's a coincidence."Those words were not an opinion rather a point measured with assurance. She didn't look at our differences but focused on what's our strength. She began playing with a purpose and I was just her card by mistake. But everything she did make me who I am today and so are the others. That mysterious girl can be sometimes unreasonable but all I could do was to trust the process.

My pregnant colleague told me to get her a drink. However, she had severe stomach ache after the drink and suffered a miscarriage. In the hospital, she was crying about how I harmed her. Her family members beat me up badly, even extorted 150 thousand dollars in compensation from me. I made a police report and was ready to take legal action against them. However, his mother-in-law pushed me to the middle of the road, and I was crushed to death by being run over by a truck.

Calamity. Uncertainty. Solitude. This aura shaped the boy Morgan found one evening on the railing of a bridge. Just in time she seemed to save him from a big mistake. But just one report the next day and a new visit to the bridge the following night change everything. She soon finds out in what web of lies, secrets and denial she is caught in. Because every family has its little secrets. ________ Trigger warning!!!! Death, Suicide and more ________ I wrote that story when I was 14, so it isn't perfect, but I hope you enjoy it anyways.

I'm the De Luca family's dirty little secret, their bastard daughter. And I was stupid enough to fall for Marco Moretti, the heir to our rivals. On our wedding day, my sister, Isabella, drugged me. When I woke up, she was wearing my dress. Standing at the altar. Becoming his wife. Heartbroken, I ran to a bar to drown my sorrow. And that’s where I discovered I was pregnant. Marco held me, crying. He swore he loved me, only me. He promised he’d divorce Isabella as soon as our child was born. But on the day I gave birth, Isabella murdered us both. Me and my baby. That’s when I finally understood. Marco would always choose a true-blooded princess of the Cosa Nostra. And me? The bastard? I was just a loose end. A problem to be erased. Then I opened my eyes. I was back. Back on the day she drugged me. Their wedding day. This time, I'm not marrying the heir. I'm marrying the Don. But first... I'm going to ruin this wedding.

I was the daughter of a crime boss in Flonio. Initially, I was supposed to reveal my identity during my wedding. But my elder brother told me that someone was targeting me and that I could not expose myself. My fiance also took this chance to take off my wedding gown and help my maid into it. My bodyguard then stole my family token. I trusted them deeply, but when the wedding ceremony started, I saw my maid with one arm around my fiance. Meanwhile, her other hand lingered between my brother’s and bodyguard’s sensitive spots on their bodies. In response to my suspicions, my maid laughed wickedly. Then, she instructed someone to break my limbs. They locked me up in the basement and forced me to watch as they got more and more intimate. In the end, they skinned me alive and broke my bones. Before I breathed my last, they left me to the beasts. When I recalled the misery of my previous life, I broke my maid’s ribs with a few punches. “You can have my fiance, but you don’t deserve my family token!”

My first time meeting Lawrence Seinfield was during my return to a noble family as its heiress. He helped me get out of a sticky situation once, and for that, I spent five years trying to steal his heart. I loved him. Eventually, he became my fiance, but he thought I was beneath him. He thought my lack of education and proper upbringing was bad. My grandfather, the one who raised me, was dying. Just when I needed his help the most, he decided to teach me a lesson and show me my place. Without any help, my grandfather died, and like Lawrence wished, I knew my place. And I lost my love for him.

I’m Isabella Russo, the mafia princess everyone loves to hate. Adrian Moretti—ice-cold underboss in a tailored suit—was sent to “discipline” me. I torched his villa, wrecked his meetings, even tried to make him lose control. At night, he did. Against glass, leather, marble—he taught me surrender and I hated how much I craved it. Then I learned the truth: Adrian was only a mask. His real name is Leon Moretti—heir to the empire and the fiancé promised to me since birth. It should have been a fairytale. Except my parents crowned a miracle sister who wasn’t a miracle at all. Elena slipped into my room, my heirloom, my future—and into his arms. When I was framed, caged in a walk-in freezer, whipped for a lie, he chose her. So I sold the engagement for $200M, left a single recording as proof, and vanished. By the time Leon becomes Don, he finally listens—to the tape that proves Elena’s an impostor… and to the echo of my footsteps leaving him for good. Now the most dangerous man in New York is done being careful. He’s hunting the woman he broke.