Hushed

Gabriella's life has always been complicated. Her father, the Don of the mafia, kept his business life separate from his family life. But Gabriella knew; the late night meetings, hushed conversations, his rivals ending up dead, and the occasional "business trips" that would leave her mother worried sick. Because of this, Gabriella chose to distance herself from her father's world. She attended college far from home, and even started a different life far from her father's shadows. But there's only so much you can do when you're seen as a weakness. Her worst fears finally become a reality, and her parents are killed in their living room, while she's on the verge of death. Someone's does save Gabriella, and she survives, but loses her sight in the process. Gabriella is grateful for this guardian angel, and years down the line, they get married, start a family, and love in perfect peace. But even the devil itself can disguise himself as an angel….. Gabriella has a shot to get her eyesight back, but that shot opens up a can of secrets that will ruin her perfect reality forever.

"I reject you," Bruno repeated, his voice carrying across the hushed clearing. "We are no longer mates. We can never be mates." The warmth that had always softened his green eyes whenever he looked at her was gone, replaced by a glacial indifference that chilled her to the bone. "No. No." Lyra shook her head vigorously, her carefully arranged hair coming loose, dark strands falling across her tear-stained face. She reached for him, clutching at the ceremonial jacket he wore. "This can't happen. You promised to protect me, to be by my side, to love me." Her voice rose with each word, desperation clawing at her throat. "Please, don't do this to me. You can't."

The day we were meant to be mated, my Alpha, Ford, was ambushed. Silver bullets shredded his car, sending it plunging off a bridge and into the river below. He was pronounced dead. Drowned. I was left pregnant with his heir, shattered by the raw agony of our severed mate bond. Then Ford's twin, Aiden, returned from abroad with his mate, Kyra. His identical face and a scent so similar to my mate's nearly drove me mad. A desperate part of me swore Ford was still alive. I told myself it was just grief. A widow's delusion. Until I overheard a hushed conversation and the horrifying truth slammed into me: the man pretending to be Aiden was Ford. He had faked his death. He'd let his own brother die in his place, all for Kyra—the other woman carrying his child. The grief that had crippled me instantly morphed into a cold, sharp rage. Ford didn't just break our bond; he shattered it. And I would make him pay. I wiped my tears and sent a single message to my brother, Billy, the Alpha of the Winterstone Pack. "Brother, I need a plane crash. He loves faking his death? Fine. Let him feel what it's like to truly lose a mate." Only when the news of my "death" spread did Ford reclaim his name. He knelt for seven days and nights in the ashes of the home we once shared, consumed by a grief of his own making.