I Became Invincible After Descending Novels & Stories

Julian Hayes spent eight years climbing from first officer to captain of the most coveted international routes. I stood beside him for every mile of that climb. For him, I walked away from the Valenti family, the most feared Mafia name on the East Coast. I buried Elena Valenti, and became Lina Vale, the girl who smiled in the cabin while he ruled the cockpit. The day I left, my father stood on the marble steps of our estate and said, "Elena, if you walk out that gate for him, don’t come crawling back." Julian never knew. To him, I was a woman with no real family, no real power, and no life worth asking about. I was the one who memorized his flight schedule, packed his stomach pills, and kept dinner warm until midnight. Once, I asked him, "Can you take me into the sky the way you see it? Just once." He didn’t even put down his fork. "The cockpit is a workplace, Lina. Not a theme park." I said okay and never asked again. Then one sleepless dawn, I found the encrypted album on his phone. More than forty cockpit photos: cloud seas, blood-red sunsets, double rainbows after storms, the Milky Way over the Atlantic. Every one had been sent to the same contact. A teddy bear emoji. The newest photo showed half a sun hanging off the wingtip. His caption read, [Next time you’re off, I’ll put you in the observer seat. Sit on the right. That’s where the whole sky opens up.] She replied, [I’ll hold you to that.] I put the phone back. I didn’t change the password, didn’t delete the album, didn’t wake him up to beg for an explanation. At dawn, I brewed his coffee like always, sat alone at the kitchen island, and drank mine in silence. Then I sent my resignation letter and called a number I hadn’t touched in eight years. I watched the first flight of the morning rise beyond the Manhattan skyline and said, "Papa, I’m coming home." When the line connected, my father’s voice was colder than a gun barrel. "Have you thought it through?"

When the criminal tortured me to death, I was three-month pregnant. But my husband Mark - the city's most prominent detective - was at the hospital with his first love Emma, accompanying her for her medical checkup. Three days ago, he demanded me to donate my kidney to Emma. When I refused, telling him I was two months pregnant with our child, his eyes had turned cold. "Stop lying," he had snarled. "You're just being selfish, trying to let Emma die." He pulled over on the dark highway. "Get out," he ordered. "Walk home since you're so heartless. " I stood there in the darkness and was kidnapped by the vengeful criminal, whom Mark had once imprisoned. He cut out my tongue. With cruel satisfaction, he used my phone to call my husband. Mark's response was brief and cold: "Whatever it is, Emma's medical checkup is more important! She needs me right now." The criminal let out a dark chuckle. "Well, well... Seems like the great detective values his ex's life more than his current wife's." When Mark arrived at the crime scene hours later, he was horrified by the brutality inflicted on the corpse. He angrily condemned the murderer for treating a pregnant woman so cruelly But he didn't recognize that the mutilated body before him was his own wife - me.

Angela Bailey spent six years believing her marriage was built on love, only to discover her devoted husband was nothing more than a polished illusion. When she filed for divorce and asked her daughter to leave with her, the little girl clung to another woman’s hand and called her “Mom.” Donald Turner, cold and entitled, told her, “As long as you apologize to Nina, you can still live your high-society life.” Angela scoffed. “You might not even stay in high society yourself.” She walked out of the Turner household with nothing, determined to rebuild her life from the ground up. With her own talent and grit, she joined a new company and went head-to-head with her ex. Just when Donald realized his mistake and wanted her back, another man stepped into Angela’s life—someone who protected her openly, supported her quietly, and cherished her without hesitation. Donald regretted everything and wanted her back. He appeared with their daughter, eyes red as he pleaded, “I’ll give you the entire Turner family. Please love me and our daughter again.” The man beside Angela laughed. “The Turner family? That means nothing. Angela doesn’t need it. And as for a daughter…” He looked at Angela, and together they said, “We already have one.”

In the biggest bar of Gryndon, my younger sister, Evonne Bradford, is tossed onto the middle of the stage like a plaything. The men beneath the stage keep arguing with each other. At the moment, Evonne's complexion is as pale as a sheet. She can only stare at her fiance, Simon Scottman, in disbelief, who's sitting in the middle of the bar. "Simon, I'm your fiancee! How could you treat me like this?" Simon leans over to kiss the dainty-looking woman in his arms on the lips. Then, he shoots Evonne a cold look. "You don't even know who took your virginity, yet you still have the guts to question me?" The woman in Simon's arms just titters delicately, but the contempt in her eyes is plain to see when she looks at Evonne. Meanwhile, I sit in my booth, my gaze already icy. All it takes is three years of my absence in this country, and already someone dares to harm a member of the Bradford family.

I regressed to the day I auctioned for the school idol’s sugar baby agreement after her family went bankrupt. This time, I chose to stand by and watch coldly, rather than saving her… Because after I saved her last time, she was forced to marry me due to the rumors spreading at the auction. For the eight years we were married, she made me keep my distance from her. At the same time, she gave her old flame my company and my assets, even bearing him three children. When Gwen Hughes kicked me out of the house, she sneered at me. “It’s all your fault! You acted holier-than-thou, buying out my contract and spreading rumors so I had no choice but to marry you! If it weren’t for you, Ivan and I wouldn’t have missed each other for all these years!” After that, I died in agony. Now that I had regressed, I would not interfere in their lives again.

(A REWRITE OF TANGLED WITH THE MAFIA KING) "I am married!" I spat into his face. "You can't just walk in here and spew nonsense just because I am carrying your baby." His smirk returned, and I realised that I had made a mistake that day. That day, I thought I was getting into bed with a gentle soul. But this man in front of me has the darkest of auras. It is the kind that makes it hard to look away or slam the door in his face. So, when he took another step closer, I could barely move. Then, he said, "I don't care if you are married. Now that I've seen you, coming with me is undebatable." ~~~ One reckless night in Venice with a dangerously attractive stranger was supposed to be Carrie’s final act of rebellion before an arranged marriage. By morning, she left satisfied. Two weeks later… she’s pregnant. With her furious father forcing her into marriage and giving her one week to find the baby’s father, Carrie begins a desperate search for the mysterious Alessandro. But the man she’s looking for isn’t just a charming Italian businessman. He’s heir to a ruthless empire. A man who rules with fear. And he has his own reason for needing a wife— fast. When their worlds collide again, it won’t just be about one night. It will be about power. Danger. Protection. And a love neither of them planned.

"Vera, you are accused of conspiring with the Petrov Group to assassinate the family's future Donna, Sylvia. This tribunal is now in session." In the center of the tribunal, a syringe filled with a dark green liquid glinted under the lights. My former fiancé, Rocco, the new Don of the Corleone family, sat on the dais, disgust plain on his face. "Confess. Let everyone see the monster you are behind that mask." Sylvia leaned against his chest, a faint smile on her lips. She thought I would finally break, my reputation in ruins. Shackled to the accused's chair, a smile of faint relief touched my lips. "Rocco, are you sure you want to do this?" "Use that needle, and there's no going back."

I was the person Henry Johnson, the head of the San Nello mafia, loved more than anyone else. He loved me with absolute devotion. During our three years of marriage, he spoiled me endlessly and treated me like a princess. Yet this same man, who claimed to love me so deeply, divorced me three times, each time for the sake of his childhood sweetheart. The first time, intimate photos of them at the airport went viral. That very night, he placed the divorce papers in front of me. "Selena," he said, "Melanie's father once saved my life. I can't allow her to be condemned as a homewrecker. Let's divorce for now. Once this storm passes, we'll remarry." With my heart in pieces, I signed the papers and prepared to leave. However, at the airport, Henry stopped me. He broke down in front of me and begged, "I've already taken care of the media. Melanie has gone abroad again. I've repaid everything I owed her family. Please don't leave. Let's get married again." His tearful pleas softened my resolve. That was the first time I forgave him. The second time, he came to me looking utterly worn out. "Melanie was implicated by her boyfriend and ended up in prison," he said. "I need to bail her out as her spouse. Once she's free, we'll remarry right away." I believed him. That time, he kept his promise. He returned and remarried me. The third time, he lowered his head and hesitated, unable to look me in the eye. "Melanie is about to give birth," he said. "An unwed pregnancy would destroy her modeling career. I have to help her. This will be the last time. Once the child is settled, we'll remarry. I promise this will never happen again." I looked at him for a long time. In the end, I answered softly, "Okay." However, on the day we were meant to register our marriage again, I never appeared. Any love I still had was worn away bit by bit. In the end, I left for good, taking with me not only a broken heart, but also the unborn heir he would never know.

Mom dies of rage when she discovers that the bride at my wedding has become Nelly Johnson, Harvey Fisher's business partner. My wedding turns into Mom's funeral the moment she breathes her last breath. Despite that, Harvey insists that the ceremony continue as planned. He even orders me to put the wedding ring on Nelly's finger. "Hurry up and put it on! I'll explain everything to you tonight!" he snarls. I ignore him and leave the hotel with Mom's body in my arms. The wedding ends with a banging success at 8:00 pm. Nelly updated her social media with a post that's liked by tens of thousands of people. "I've finally married the light of my life! I'd like to thank a certain homewrecker for leaving after remembering her place." Harvey updates his social media with a similar post. "Those who are unworthy don't deserve to be loved." I like both their posts in the ice-cold morgue. I comment, "I wish you two a lifetime of happiness." Then, I head home with Mom's ashes. When I enter the house, I see Harvey holding Nelly tightly while making out with her.

For five consecutive years, I secured eighty million in core contracts for the company. Yet my salary remained six thousand. At the annual company gala, I simply told my boss, “I want a raise.” In response, he slapped me across the face three times right in front of the entire company. “Do you think clients come to you? They recognize the company! “Paying you six thousand is already charity, so don’t push your luck!” Everyone in the office watched, laughing at me. I said nothing, only quietly wiping the blood from my lip. The very next day, I took all the client resources and moved to a rival company. Three days later, my former boss broke down over the phone, screaming, “Why?! Why did they all pull out?!”