Hung Femboy

“Choose. Choose what you want.” “Like this is some ice-cream flavour to choose?” Agatha seethed, the gun in her hands that hung limply by her side. Gustav grinned like the psycho he was, finding excitement to see his own daughter quivering in fear. “Almost the same honey. Now choose. Will you save the man you love, or yourself?” Shutting her eyes, Agatha lifted the gun up, and the next time her eyes opened, they were burning with rage. “Fuck love.” _______________________________ The Mafia world is filled with all kinds of crime and sin, committed by their very own Lords. That’s right, just the Lords. But what if the most ruthless Italian Mafia fails to have a future Lord, and instead has two Lady’s? Who will it be, Agatha Russo, the cold hearted, cruel monster that values her own life above anything, and will do anything to stay in power, or Soralina Russo, the sweet, kind hearted angel, whose only sin was to be born as the daughter of the Lord of The Cross Sword Mafia?

Olivia waited three years for her husband, Alexander, to treat her like his wife but that never happened. She decided to seek divorce and leave the abusive toxic marriage she was in. Unfortunately, the day she left the home of her husband she had an accident and lost her memory. She could remember all those who treated her nicely except her husband and his family who treated her badly. Her husband called her out of the blue to tease her but was surprised Olivia addressed him with another man's name and also hung up on him for the first time. The idea of Oliva moving on frightened him and he started pursuing her to win her love again but he had to battle with Leo, another man in love with Olivia for her attention. This battle of love led to the unveiling of hidden mysteries. Would Alexander be able to win Olivia's heart back and what happens when Alexander's first love also returns to town?

When my appendix bursts, my parents, my brother, and even my fiancé are all too busy celebrating my sister's birthday. I'm outside the operating room, frantically calling every family member I can think of to sign the consent form, but every call is either ignored or hung up on. After hanging up on me, my fiancé, Joel Graham, texts back. "Sophie, stop being dramatic. It's Yvette's 18th birthday today. Whatever it is can wait until after the party." I quietly set my phone down and sign the consent form myself. It's the ninety-ninth time they've chosen Yvette Norton, my sister, over me. This time, I choose not to care. I'll stop letting their favoritism hurt me. Instead, I'll do everything they ask of me without complaint. They'll all think I've finally learned to be obedient, and they'll never realize that I'm preparing to leave them for good.

The day before my fifth wedding anniversary to my husband, the jewelry store manager called me. He reported that the expensive jewelry I had commissioned for my husband had been accidentally damaged by the staff. However, the shop was willing to pay a penalty for breach of contract. He hung up before I could lose my temper. I immediately received a message from my husband and $6 million in compensation. [So you're the shameless homewrecker. How dare you keep my husband's contact information! I'm warning you: I've given you the money, now get lost! Otherwise, I'll have to teach you a lesson!] The woman smugly sent me an intimate photo to follow up on her threats. Looking at the familiar side profile, I immediately called my biological parents, who were high-ranking businesspeople. "Dad, Mom, put the Shelby family's investment on hold for now. I'm getting a big gift ready for them!"

When Dylan Sullivan took a new type of hallucinogen, I was forced to give myself to him to curb the effects. Innately fertile, I got pregnant, giving birth to fraternal twins—a boy and a girl—after marrying him. However, Dylan refused to let them call him daddy, drinking away the nights while staring at the picture of his one true love. Then, on our tenth anniversary, he locked us up in the basement and burnt us to death. As it turns out, he remained hung up on that moment when I saved him all this time, stubbornly convinced I intervened when he was vulnerable to satisfy my ambitions. That in turn drove a rift between himself and his one true love, whose heartbreak led to psychosis and the accident that killed her. But I somehow opened my eyes to find myself alive, returning to the day Dylan took the hallucinogen by mistake. This time, I let his one true love have him, while I headed towards the study…

Layla Backwood was a victim of an accident that claimed an entire family leaving her as the only survivor. When she revived in the arms of a charming man, Julian, who didn't hesitate to make her his wife, she thought she had it all; a man to love, a career on thrive, a future at close aim. But everything changed in just one night of betrayal. She finds Julian, the only man she loves, in the arms of another woman, her world shattered. Just then Viktor Douglas entered the picture. A ruthless, dreadful and magnetic billionaire CEO, who offered her everything she had long wished for: comfort, revenge, passion and a kind of love that screamed dangerous and capable of consuming everything in its path. Now layla is hung between the man who shattered her very being ad the man who ignited her darkest desires. Then revelations of truth that shakes her very core surfaced, the man behind Viktor's mask and Julian deception. But Layla must rise for herself and her secret child. Will she navigate the pile of lies, secrets, betrayal and temptations and still choose love?

On Christmas Eve, my six-year-old, Yule, was dying from cancer, and all he wanted was a gift from his dad dressed as Santa. I called Peter, my husband, begging him to come. His reply? "Can you stop blowing up my phone? I don't have time for this! I'm helping Tracey find Puffy. Do you know how upset she is?" Oh, Tracey. His first love. And Puffy? Her dog. I told him Yule might not make it through the night. His response? A straight-up dagger: "Don't act like this isn't your fault, Freya. If Yule hadn't kicked Puffy, none of this would've happened. Tomorrow, make sure he apologizes to Tracey." Then he hung up. That night, I sat with Yule, crying as I helped him celebrate his last Christmas. By morning, Peter's social medias were still full of posts about that freaking dog. Mine? Yule's obituary. Ten years of marriage, gone.

"I wronged you and do apologize for that," I gulped. " But do you see me as just your night lady?" "You're just trying to come back," he hands pulled my waist closer. "Only fools can accept you back Emma." "Ry...an..." I pushed back the tears that hung at the corner of her eyes like pearls. My voice shook with pain as i turned back, walking away with tears falling like tsunamis down my face. Suddenly his hands wrapped around my wrist. "I'm one of those fools'' he said. Thud! Thud! In the split of a second heartbeat sounded twice. Blood rushed down to the point our hands made contact. The Alpha was the beginning of my woes and now I belong to him. But she decided to transfer the hate and resent to his offspring who happens to be her mate. why did she treat him with resentment? what did she really do? why did he reject her? Did she find the peace she had always hoped for?

As the flames engulfed my body in the underground warehouse, I used the last of my strength to call my brother, the new Don of the Moretti family. Just as I was about to draw my last breath, Lorenzo finally answered, his voice as cold as the Sicilian winter wind. "Isabella, what the hell are you up to now?" "Brother, save me…" My voice was barely a whisper, but he cut me off without a hint of mercy. "Can't you go one day without causing trouble?" "Liliana's debutante dinner is next week. If you don't show up, I'll drag you back here myself." He hung up without a second thought, completely oblivious to the desperation in my voice. Despair mingled with the searing agony that wracked my body as the flames danced higher, and I couldn't hold on any longer. As I closed my eyes, tears still trickled from their corners. You won't have to drag me back, my brother. I'm never coming back.

Five years after we broke up, my ex-fiancé Bruce, yes the mafia one, suddenly called me out of the blue to announce our wedding date. I was speechless. Shocked, I blurted out, "Wait… didn't we break up five years ago?" He replied with his usual arrogance, "Break up? I never agreed to that. You left in a fit of anger. "And let me guess. You came back to the country only because you heard I was getting married. Out of jealousy, hoping to reclaim our engagement?" He even had the nerve to tell me to be magnanimous and accept Bella, the so-called 'perfect girl' who had spent the last five years by his side. I let out an icy laugh and hung up immediately. I had long been married to the most powerful Don of the strongest mafia family and had two adorable sons to show for it. Honestly, I had no idea what Bruce was thinking. Now, who even cares about him?