I Became A Sick Nobleman

Once I became pregnant, I was hailed as the most precious woman in the underworld. My husband, the new Don of the Jenkins family, shut down an entire private hospital wing for my check-ups, while my father, the Collins Don, summoned every Michelin-starred chef in New York to the estate, just so I could pick whatever I craved. The baby I carried was destined to be the sole heir of the two most powerful mafia families. But on the day we were to sign the papers securing my child's inheritance, they both vanished. "An urgent family matter came up," my husband, Vincent, said, kissing my forehead. "We can finalize the child's inheritance when we get back. There's no rush." Shortly after they left, I received a link to an anonymous live stream. My father's voice came from the video, colder than I had ever heard it. "You're saying your marriage contract with Evangeline was never valid. Doesn't that make the child a bastard?" Vincent, lounging in a club, blew a smoke ring. Cradled in his arms was my half sister, Sarah. "Evangeline has always had all the love and affection. Her child will want for nothing." "Sarah has been mocked for her status for years. I have to make things right for her, give our child a legitimate name." In that moment, my heart seized, and I could barely breathe. Then my phone vibrated again. It was a text message: "Welcome home to the Gallo family, my queen." "Just give the word, and the child you carry will bear the Gallo name and become the most powerful heir in the American underworld."

On the day I get into an accident, Anthony Flint forces me to donate blood to his first love, Maisie Jones, even though I'm on the brink of death. He threatens me that if I dare reject him, he'll torture me till I die. Later on, I end up dying on the streets due to massive blood loss, just like Anthony wants me to. But he bawls his eyes out as he begs me to open my eyes and look at him again.

Elaine Foster loved to test my love for her. She faked a chronic illness and convinced me to donate blood for her 99 times. When it came for the 100th time, I was already severely anemic. I finally said no. She turned around and used the blood I had given her to make blood sausages for Karl Claflin’s dog. Karl was the most popular guy on campus. Curled up in Karl’s arms, she said to me, “Michael Messner, I was never sick. I only pretended to be, just to see if you really loved me. Unfortunately, you failed the final test. I’m very disappointed. We are done.” I smiled indifferently and walked away without looking back. Five years later, we met again at the top hospital in the country. By then, neither Elaine nor Karl knew that they both had malignant gliomas growing in their brains. I had become the only neurosurgeon in the country capable of successfully removing them. When she saw me in plain clothes, wiping vomit off the hospital floor, she had assumed I was a janitor. She sneered, “Michael, you’d really stoop to anything to run into me, wouldn’t you? You even followed me here. It’s time you faced reality. I’m worth millions now, and you are just a janitor. We are worlds apart. Stop embarrassing yourself.” I did not bother answering. At that moment, I was only thinking about which nurse I would need to speak to for slacking off on the job. Luckily, I had just finished surgery and was going home when I spotted the patient in distress. Otherwise, the patient could have been in serious danger.

The most reckless thing I had ever done was turn my back on the Moretti name and leave St. Clair Harbor with Lucian DeLuca when the Commission pushed his family out and he had nothing left. For three years, we lived in a drafty Brooklyn loft and ducked black Chevrolets on winter nights. Then Lucian fought his way back to the East Coast table. Everyone started calling him Mr. DeLuca again,and I became Mrs. DeLuca, the woman he swore he would always protect. Then Clara Voss appeared. She had once saved his life as a night nurse at an underground clinic, and Lucian never forgot it. He bought her a clinic, protected her family, and let her step, inch by inch, into the middle of our marriage. He said he still loved me, but he also said I was spoiled, jealous, and needed to learn my place. So I did. I signed the divorce papers and left New York behind. Mrs. DeLuca was dead. Evelyn Moretti had come back.

Sophia Mitchell thought she had it all—a thriving career in interior design, a picture-perfect marriage to Nathan Carter, and a younger sister she adored. But her world shatters when she walks in on Nathan passionately entangled with none other than Chloe—her own sister. Heartbroken and betrayed, Sophia refuses to be a victim. She divorces Nathan, determined to rebuild her life, but revenge fuels her every step. A passionate one-night stand with a mysterious stranger, Alex, seems like the perfect way to forget her pain—until she learns he is Nathan’s estranged half-brother. With Alex harboring his own vendetta against Nathan, the two join forces to take him down. But as secrets unravel, Sophia finds herself caught between revenge, redemption, and an unexpected love she never saw coming. The best part? She just became Nathan’s new boss. Will she destroy him completely or find herself trapped in a web of her own making?

Sold by her ex-husband after she caught him cheating with her stepsister, Freya the powerless Lycan Princess who had always been hidden has her life turned upside down when she realizes that she had been sold to the cursed cruel Rogue King, Thorne Frost, her father’s enemy to become his breeder. But how would she become his breeder when she has been declared as not being able to bear a child? What would Thorne do when he realizes that the woman he chose as a breeder in a bid to break his curse was no one other than the daughter of his enemy whom he loathed and to worsen it, she ended up being his mate! Would he end up rejecting her or would he put their differences behind them and join hands with her to bring down everyone who had caused chaos in her life? A cursed Rogue King. A powerless Lycan Princess. And Four Babies.

The contractions were ripping me in two. My vision was going dark. My husband, Don Vittorio, the man who ruled Chicago, squeezed my hand. His dark eyes burned with love. "Just a little longer, mia cara. You'll meet our baby soon." Sweat poured down my face. I still found the strength to smile for him. Then a nurse walked in. She held a syringe. I thought it was to stop the pain. But Vittorio’s hand fell away. He took a single step back. The needle sank into my arm. I heard Vittorio’s voice. It was cold steel. "Dose her carefully. She holds on until midnight. Not a minute sooner. Not until after Ornella delivers." And then I knew. He thought I married him for the money. He was stopping my labor. All for a sick Falcone family rule: the first son born is the next heir. Pain tore through me. I reached for him. Tears streamed down my face. I begged him to stop. He bit his lip. His voice was pure ice. "My brother is dead. Ornella carries his only heir. You will do as you are told. You and your child will not steal his birthright." The drug hit my veins. The violent squeeze in my belly, like some invisible hand, just… stopped.

The air in the Parisian haute couture salon smelled like money and fear. I’d waited six months for my wedding dress. Now, it was draped over the shoulders of Sofia Ross—the trending influencer, and my mafia fiancé Vincent Cassio’s god-sister. The salon manager was sweating bullets, his eyes darting between me and the man lounging on the velvet sofa. Vincent Cassio stood up. He adjusted a fold of the diamond-encrusted train on Sofia with a casual flick of his wrist. “Her premiere next week needs a statement piece. She’s borrowing it. Pick something off the rack and stop making a scene.” His tone was flat, final. Under the crystal chandeliers, Sofia admired herself in the full-length mirror, a triumphant smile on her lips. I looked at my reflection in the same mirror, wearing jeans and a soaked trench coat. I looked like a lost tourist. Suddenly, the entire past year of planning felt like a sick joke. I didn’t yell. I just felt cold. Numb. I slipped the five-carat engagement ring off my finger. It hit the glass coffee table with a sharp, final click. “You’re right, Vincent. I don’t need this wedding dress. This wedding… I don’t need it either.”

Before the wedding, Alpha Kevin’s first love, Sandra Barlow, was betrothed to none other than David Wright—the most infamous rogue Alpha along the Mississippi River. A wolf so ruthless, even the werewolf Council preferred to pretend he didn’t exist. Alpha Kevin, ever the noble hero, couldn't bear to see his precious white moonlight thrown into the fire pit. So, what did he do? With the werewolf army of the Midnight Ridge Pack, he stormed into the rogue den and snatched her away from Alpha David. That very night, they registered their marriage and held a wedding. And me? Oh, the entire Midnight Ridge Pack was practically at the thought of watching Gamma Diana Gilbert—the strongest female warrior in the pack—get humiliated. After all, my years of loyalty, my unmatched skills, my blood spilled for this pack? Worthless. Why? Because their beloved Alpha had chosen another. I braced myself for the whispers, the pitying glances. But then— The very next day, Alpha David, the same rogue who’d been so cruelly robbed of his mate, climbed onto my villa’s security wall like a damn cat burglar. He perched there, arms crossed, watching me with an infuriatingly lazy smirk. “Wife pays for her husband’s debt,” he drawled, his voice carrying the rough edge of a wolf who lived lawless and free. “Alpha Kevin stole my mate. So I figured—you should compensate me by becoming my rogue Luna.” He grinned, canines flashing. “ That’s fair, isn’t it?” I nodded. “Fair.”

He’s the world’s most elusive billionaire. She’s the shattered woman who swears she was once his fiancée. When Lyra sees Caspian Clearance’s face on the cover of Forbes magazine, the world stops, because that’s Mason, the man who promised her forever and disappeared without a trace but Caspian insists he’s never met her. He has no memory of her… or the life they supposedly shared. How can a man forget the love of his life? Haunted by her pain and driven by a storm of unanswered questions, Caspian digs into the mystery, only to uncover a chilling truth: before he was Caspian, he was Mason… a poor man who vanished after a tragic accident but Mason didn’t die. His body is in a coma. Caspian is his soul in a second chance at life, one with power, wealth, and no memory of a broken-hearted fiancée. Now Caspian stands at a brutal crossroads: Return to the woman who claims his heart belongs to her… Or stay in the life that made him untouchable. Love or legacy. Past or power. The truth could destroy them both and remembering… might be the biggest risk of all.