He Don T Love Me

“Help me fake my death and arrange a completely new identity.” “Donna,” the man was clearly shocked. “Why? The Don dotes on you. The whole of Sicily knows—” “That’s none of your business,” I interrupted him. “I’m leaving in five days.” Walking out of the black market, the LED screen in the square was still showing footage of my lavish wedding with Don Alexander three years ago, a ceremony that cost over $500 million. Everyone thought Don Alexander loved me deeply, and I thought so too. Until this afternoon, on our third wedding anniversary, I returned to Sicily early, hiding in the lounge of my husband—Don Alexander’s—office, wanting to surprise him. Instead, I saw his secretary hiding under his desk. While the underboss Marco was reporting the losses from the dock smuggling operation, Isabella was kneeling between Alexander’s legs, skillfully unbuttoning his trousers. Her head bobbed up and down. After Marco left, Isabella smiled seductively. “Could your Donna serve you like this during a meeting?” Alexander’s voice was filled with desire. His hands kneaded her breasts. “Sophia is too conventional, too boring. You’re much more exciting in bed, you little slut.” I covered my mouth, completely devastated. But when I actually left, the Don, who had found me boring, was the one who completely broke down.

Melannie couldn't remember the last time she felt something. While Ace remembers every sting and ache. Both of their chaotic worlds collide and through every moment they share, one starts to feel and the other starts to heal. The only thing standing in between is that it's a cycle of pain, and no one knows how to get out.

It is the third year of my marriage when the video of my bodyguard, Julian Sutherland, holding an umbrella over me in a downpour goes viral. Overnight, the internet becomes obsessed with the "Icy Protector and his Forbidden Heiress." Netizens are relentless; they dig through the archives until they unearth a ten-year-old clip. In the video, a girl was holding a pair of high-heeled shoes while sprinting through the Folander airport. My friend teased, "No way, Ms. Serina Brown. Are you really flying back home to confess to that poor man? What could you possibly see in him?" The camera shakes, capturing my youthful face. I was just a reckless 20-year-old. "I love Julian. I love everything about him." That night, after seeing the video, Julian loses his composure and bursts into my room. "I didn't know you loved me back then. I thought… I thought… God, it was never supposed to end like this." I pull my coat around me and stand rooted on the spot, remaining silent. Suddenly, a mocking laugh echoes from behind me. Someone places their hand firmly on my waist and says, "Are you trying to reminisce about your love with my wife right in front of me? Do I look dead to you?"

Alpha Ethan's first love, Sarah, died unexpectedly just days before their marking ceremony. His grief was so profound, it sent shockwaves through the entire Duskrend pack. I spent my youth walking beside him, helping him crawl out of that darkness. And finally, when he was ready to love again, he chose to mark me. In the first two years after he marked me, I got pregnant twice. Both times ended in miscarriage. Ethan, heart aching, told me he couldn't bear to see me suffer through childbirth again. That he didn't want me to endure that kind of pain anymore. But in the third year, I conceived again. On the way to see the pack healer for a routine checkup, I was attacked by a wild beast. My wolf, desperate to protect me, burned through most of her life force holding the creature off. Ethan arrived just in time and carried me to the pack hospital himself. But the healer shook his head. We had lost too much time. The pup couldn't be saved. Worse, my ability to bear pups would be permanently damaged because my wolf was too injured to ever carry life again. My mother clung to me, sobbing. Ethan stood in the corner and smiled. "Joy just can't have pups anymore," he said. "But Sarah—Sarah lost her life because of people like you." Then he looked at my mother, his voice edged with contempt. "You were the one who forced Sarah to abort. You watched her—an Omega without a wolf—scream herself to death. So now, your daughter shall feel that pain too." Five years after severing our mate bond, Ethan had become the most powerful Lycan Chairman the region had ever seen—courted, admired, endlessly celebrated. And me? I was working at an underground club. I was dressed in scraps of fabric, smiling until my cheeks ached, bowing and pouring drinks for whoever walked into the VIP room. There shouldn't have been any reason for our paths to cross again. But Ethan held me tight, eyes red and refusing to let go— “Say it,” he whispered, voice breaking. “Call me your mate.”

Before our wedding, my fiancé, Carlo Vitale—the youngest Don on the East Coast—held a church ceremony with my stepsister. He said, "According to Mafia rules, only the woman who completes the wedding ceremony with me and receives the blessing of all the family is my true wife. "So even if your sister Elena is carrying my child, she's nothing more than a mistress." After the priest's blessing, they exchanged rings. I stood outside the church, watching through a curtain of rain as he kissed another woman. My face was white. I had loved Carlo for twelve years, from the ages of sixteen to twenty-eight. However, he had only ever had my stepsister, Sophia, not me, in his heart. I chose to let him go. Later, I left for Europe. All I left Carlo was a notice of our broken engagement and a parting gift. For some reason, the man who had always treated me with indifference seemed to have aged ten years overnight.

"I am not my sister. And you can LOVE ME OR HATE ME for that, but you don't get to punish me for her sins." Daniel breaks. The wall doesn't just come down. It collapses. --- Aria Blackwood didn't plan to fall in love with her boss. She planned to keep her head down, do her job, and ignore the way Daniel Cole's presence rearranged every room he entered, including the room inside her chest. Daniel Cole didn't plan to feel anything ever again. Not after Vivienne. Not after the betrayal that stripped him of $50,000, a fake pregnancy that never existed, and every reason to trust a woman's smile. He swore on her name. On her bloodline. On every person who carried her last name. He just didn't know he'd already fallen for one. When the truth surfaces at the worst possible moment, mid-engagement, mid-happiness, mid-finally, Daniel must choose between the wound that shaped him and the woman who healed him without even knowing he was bleeding. Love was never supposed to find him again. It sent the wrong sister anyway.

When the world knows your name, sometimes the only way to find yourself is to become someone else. Dalon Sorrin is a world-famous Formula 1 driver, a master at navigating high speeds and higher stakes. But when the weight of fame becomes too much, he escapes to a quiet town in Italy, desperate to disappear from the spotlight and reclaim a sense of normalcy. When he meets a fellow traveler, he introduces himself as Jack Dawson, hoping to enjoy a connection untouched by celebrity. Rejena Brink is no stranger to pressure herself. Between a demanding job, relentless coursework, and her passion for writing, life has left her burned out. A spontaneous trip to Italy is her way of pressing pause—a chance to rediscover the freedom and creativity of her younger self. On her first day, she crosses paths with a charming stranger who calls himself Jack. Playing along, she offers her pen name: Jane Carter. Neither is being honest. And neither expects their connection to deepen. What Dalon doesn’t know is that Rejena is a devoted Formula 1 fan. And what Rejena doesn’t see coming is the emotional cost of falling for someone who isn’t who he claims to be. As their secrets edge closer to the surface, both must ask: Can love survive the truth? And can they become the people they were always meant to be?

My fiancé, Elio Santoro, is the Don of the Santoro family, one of the five major mafia families in Castellano. During a gang attack, he is shot and loses his memory, causing him to completely forget me. I try again and again to help him recover his memory, but every attempt fails. One day, I go to find him with the contract after finalizing a major drug transport deal with a foreign group on his behalf. By chance, I overhear his conversation with his first love, Sofia Rossi. "Elio, according to our bet, you've already reached level 98 in this game. Two more levels, and I will become the true Donna of the Santoro family." I feel like I've been tossed into an icy lake. So his amnesia is fake, and our seven years together are all a lie. Since the beginning, this is just a cruel game he is playing to amuse his first love, and I am nothing but a toy. Later, I get into a car accident on my way to meet Sofia. Elio rushes into the fire like a madman. The moment he sees my burned corpse, he loses his mind.

A theft and an abduction -- it's how it all began. Mafia Don Frank is seeking revenge to punish his enemy for stealing from him and abducts the thief's daughter at gunpoint. Jennifer goes with Frank, hoping to save her family by doing so. They hate each other with a passion. Getting along seems impossible as she tries to stay alive in his mansion? But destiny has other plans for them. When Frank's father suddenly pays him a visit, Frank is forced to talk Jennifer into a deal. She has to pretend to be his girlfriend whenever his father is around. She only agrees when Frank promises to leave her and her family alone. During their time together, Frank learns her secret, an old secret she's been hiding from the rest of the world, and Frank's attitude towards her starts to change. Jennifer reconsiders her options when she sees a whole new side to the ruthless mafia don, but neither of them is ready to acknowledge the truth. Will they give in to their feelings and find their happily ever after? What if Frank's rivals hear that she's now their enemy's lover? Will they talk things over? Or will they choose to kill?

He forgot their vows. She remembers every lie. After a brutal accident leaves Callum Thorne with no memory of his wife, Iris is forced to fight for a love that only she remembers. Trapped in the Thorne family estate, surrounded by people who want her gone, Iris is determined to win back the man she married—even if he’s no longer the man he was. But when fragments of the past start to resurface, Callum begins to suspect his accident wasn’t so accidental. The more he uncovers, the more he questions everything—especially the woman he’s drawn to but can’t trust. In a world of wealth, control, and buried secrets, love isn’t safe. And the truth might cost them both more than their marriage. Vows He Doesn’t Remember is a dark, gripping romance about memory, manipulation, and the fight to reclaim what’s real—before it's too late.