Heiress Raid

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'd spent six months saving every penny for prenatal care, but the money vanished overnight. Panicking, I called my fiancé, only to see him on another woman's social media. The man's busy silhouette radiated excitement, with a luxury handbag sitting at the edge of the photo. The caption read: "Mr. Wellington is such a gentleman! Today's happiness starts with snagging the last designer bag at the boutique~" When I came out of surgery, my furious fiancé finally showed up. His first words were an accusation. "Can you stop treating me like I'm on a leash?" "My friend was feeling down, so I bought her a bag and kept her company. What's wrong with that? Why are you so petty!"

The moment the acid hit my skin, I heard my own flesh sizzle. In the last moments before my consciousness faded, my trembling fingers managed to dial my brother, the new Don of the Steele family. To my relief, Farrow finally answered. The sounds of expensive jazz and clinking glasses bled through the receiver. His voice was cold as ice. "What is it this time, Grace?" "Farrow... help me..." He cut me off before I could finish. "Listen, Betty's book launch is tomorrow night. If you dare cause a scene or embarrass the Family, I'll disown you. I'll ship you off to a convent in Sicily." The line went dead. A moment later, a second splash of acid hit my face, and the searing agony consumed me. My eyes were gone, leaving nothing but hollow, bloody sockets. You don't need to exile me, Farrow. I'm already gone. Forever.

On the day we were supposed to get our marriage license, the groom's name was swapped out. The woman my boyfriend was now promised to—the pampered mafia princess nestled in his arms—looked at me with a triumphant smile. "Isn't it perfect?" she sneered. "A fraud of a bride for a fake heir. What a match." I ignored her and turned to the man I loved. This was the man who endured three days of brutal punishment just for the right to marry me, when the Rossi family first acknowledged him as their true heir. Now, he just nodded along with her. "Don't be so dramatic. It's a joke. You're not actually mad, are you? It's just a piece of paper. Once Sienna's had her fun, you two get a divorce, and then it'll be our turn. I promise." I smiled. Then I turned and walked straight to the so-called "fake" heir. "The marriage license is filed, honey," I said. "Let's go plan our real wedding."

Amara thought her life couldn't get worse, trapped in poverty, caring for her ailing grandmother, betrayed by the man she loved. But one night changes everything: a police raid lands her in jail, where she meets the last man she should ever cross paths with…. Alessandro Vitale, the ruthless Mafia boss feared across Italy. He offers her freedom, but at a price: Marriage. A deal, a trap, and a lifeline all at once. What Alessandro doesn't know is that Amara carries a secret… a child that belongs not to him, but to his own bloodlines' rival. Their dangerous union sparks a web of betrayal, obsession, and power struggles, where love is both their greatest weapon and their deepest weakness. As past feuds resurface and enemies circle closer, Amara must decline: will she remain a pawn in the Mafia’s deadly game, or rise as the unexpected queen of an empire built in blood.

Ashley, a young talented writer had just relocated to California with her friends to start a new life after losing her job. She's determined to make it as an Author and prove everyone wrong. Ashley goes to pay her friend a visit at her restaurant, where she bumps into Richard Smith, the Immediate younger brother of Nate, a successful arrogant bachelor. A few months later, her boyfriend breaks up with her leaving her devastated. She goes to the club to relieve the pain unaware of the fact that Richard is at the same club. Things take a drastic turn when some masked men raid the club and Richard ends up dead that same night. She's torn between proving she's innocent and her feelings for the Smith brothers, Nate and Jeremy.

“Don't! My body is a temple of the Lord!” I shivered at the sound and raid in my voice as I held his gaze. He let out a small chuckle, a smirk slowly crawling to his lips. “Your body belongs to me–” he grabbed my naked ass, forcefully pulling me to make contact with his hardened body. “I, Vermont Cardonisss, am now your Lord, little pet. Bend over!” *** It is better to be a slave to a mafia than to be a sex toy of your very own father. On this account, Grace agrees to pay the debts of her father to the sexy and brutal mafia, Vermont Cardoniss. It becomes a bloody entanglement of two incessant individuals where Vermont seems too ruthless to repent and Grace, too religious to be laid. Would it be a case of a good girl turned naughty or the redemption of a cold-blooded mafia? [Content Guidance: This book is intended for adult as it contains explicit sexual and violence scenes]

My husband, Kieran, is the heir to the Thompson family. In the three years of our arranged marriage, he has never once touched me. I told myself he was just cold and guarded, that I could find a way into his heart, little by little. Then one day he came home drunk, pinned me to the bed for the first time, and called out his first love's name. "Camilla, all these years... I've thought of you every second of every day..." That was when I knew. All the passion and love he possessed was already spent on another woman. I pushed him away, burned every photo of us, and went to a high-end club in New York full of handsome male models. Nine months later, I walked into the airport with my newborn baby in my arms. Later, Kieran searched the world for me, his eyes bloodshot. He asked in a trembling voice why I never told him I was pregnant, why I wouldn't let him see our baby. I glanced at him and gave a light, breezy smile. "Who said the baby was yours?"

Iris, her unborn child and husband were murdered by her family on the night of here coronation as the heiress to Vanchez Empire, unknown to her enemies Irish and her husband was given a second chance to live again, six months later she's not only returning as an heiress but her husband who was regarded as a poor dog was a secret heir to a trillion dollar group the most influential company in south Korea the Kuwaiti Group.

Dario Morello came from old money in Santria City—but his family was cursed. Every guy in that bloodline dropped dead before twenty-five, like something sucked the life out of them. The only way out? Marry someone with a rare fertility gene. In my last life, my adopted sister Serena jacked my wedding dress and took my place at the altar. I exposed her right there in front of everyone. She became Santria's biggest joke. Then she killed herself. My parents said I was heartless. Cut me off without blinking. Dario? He hated me too. On the anniversary of Serena's death, he locked me in a basement, strapped me with explosives, and snapped, "That fertility gene lie? You made it up for clout and cash. Serena was pregnant with my kid. You killed them both. So now—you're going with her." Next thing I knew, I was waking up on the morning of the wedding. This time? I helped Serena with the veil and wished them a perfect life.