Kuchisake Onna Novels & Stories

On the day we were supposed to get engaged, my fiance, Christopher Vittorino, slid the ring—that was supposed to be mine—onto Lina Sorenzo, my stepsister's finger, right in front of the entire family. Christopher's uncle, Don Mark Vittorino, was the one who had specifically ordered his subordinates to deliver the ring that symbolizes the wearer's status as the future Donna of the Vittorino family to Christopher himself. I could only stare at Christopher's deep blue eyes in disbelief. Just as I was about to question him, he just gazed at me with a stony expression. Even his tone was cold and rigid. "The Don intends to send me to Maravena for the next five years to develop my own business there. Once I return, I'll take over the family business. "You don't have any skills at all, Isla. If you stay with me, you'll just be a hindrance to me and cause me unwanted trouble. "Lina, on the other hand, is fluent in Maravenese. Not to mention, she knows how to expand the family business overseas. She will serve as a brilliant assistant for me." After that, Christopher took Lina's hand and left the venue with her, not caring about the fact that the leaders of the other branch families as well as the elders kept murmuring among themselves. Because of that, I ended up becoming the laughingstock of the entire family. Five years later, Christopher and Lina return to the country. When he spots me showing up at a family gathering held by Mark with a ruby ring that signifies my status as the Donna on my finger, his expression changes instantly. "I can't believe you learned to steal, Isla!" I just ignore Christopher's accusations in favor of looking for the Black Rose Medal that my son, Toby Vittorino, has lost. That medal is a gift he received on his fourth birthday from Mark. Poor Toby has been sobbing for a long time because of its disappearance. I need to hurry up and find it as soon as possible.

The day Calista Everhart gets divorced, her divorce papers end up splashed online, becoming hot news in seconds. The reason for divorce was highlighted in red: "Husband impotent, leading to an inability to fulfill wife's essential needs." That very night, her husband, Lucian Northwood, apprehends her in the stairwell. He voice was low as he told her, "Let me prove that I'm not at all impotent …"

On the day of my prenatal checkup, I found out my husband Don had booked me a termination surgery instead of a postpartum care package. I thought he had placed the wrong order and was about to tease him, but Vincenzo spoke flatly. "I didn't book it wrong. I need to come clean with you about something." "I've been keeping another woman. She's a good girl. She doesn't want a title or to take your place as Donna." "But she got pregnant recently. I've already made her suffer enough. I can't let her child suffer too. I have to give the child the Moretti family name." I froze on the exam table, my voice shaking uncontrollably. "Then why did you abort my child?" He wiped the ultrasound gel off my belly and smiled. "I just want you to adopt Giuliana's child. I'm having yours terminated because I'm afraid you'll play favorites and treat her kid differently." He handed me the consent form, calm and composed. "I promise you will always be Donna. No one will ever take your place." I gave him a long, hard look, then was wheeled into the operating room. "Never mind." "Vincenzo Moretti, you're going to regret this every single day for the rest of your life." He didn't know it, but I was the only woman in the world who could ever give him a child.

My baby brother was barely a month old when my father's mistress threw him off the upstairs balcony to his death. Then she turned around and said my mother had done it. And my father, the Don, took the mistress at her word and had my mother killed. That woman framed me too, and I was cast out of the house. For the next fifteen years, I clawed my way up through begging and reckless grit, until I became the Donna of the Vanetti family. Then one day, my adopted son Daniel Vanetti brought his new girlfriend to meet me. "Mother, this is Via, the Principessa of the Vitale family. I want to marry her." I looked at Via. Her face was the spitting image of my father's mistress. What a small world. The daughter of the woman who killed my mother had walked right up to my door. So I refused without a second's hesitation. "I don't approve."

Seraphina Smith lived for the spotlight, a prima ballerina bathed in its every glow. But when a powerful sponsor fixates on her, that light morphs into a cage. Desperate, she flees, tumbling from her world of grace into the brutal, shadowed realm of Hugo Volkov, a ruthless underground boxer. He's an unexpected refuge, a dangerous calm in the storm she barely survived. Yet, as their forbidden connection deepens, Seraphina discovers her escape was just the beginning. The man she ran from is merely a ghost compared to the true threat, and Hugo Volkov isn't just her unlikely protector—he's the very reason her life is about to shatter all over again.

When I pushed through the main door, covered in blood, I found my amnesiac husband right on top of my best friend. His arm was wrapped around her waist with practiced ease, and she was passionately reciprocating his advances. "Ada will be devastated if she finds out…" Camilla said in a sweet voice through bated breaths. "After all, she really thinks you've lost your memories." Lucio chuckled softly and said in a mocking tone, "It's not my fault she loves me that much. Then again, it's a good thing for me since I can just let her do all the tough and dirty work." He leaned down and planted a kiss on Camilla's lips, mumbling, "Right now, you're the only one I recognize as my wife. Just wait. Once I sign the deal with the Della Veras, I'll have her kicked out and pass everything she owns to you. After all, I no longer remember a thing." Only then did it hit me. My husband's amnesia was all an act, a farce to fool me. Moreover, my best friend conspired with him to stab me in the back. Too bad they didn't know that the Della Vera family, the most feared Mafia family in Ritelle, only acknowledged one person: Me, Ada Rossi.

Two months before the public ceremony Marco had sworn would finally recognise me as his wife, he announced his engagement online, to no one in particular, but everyone assumed it was to me. And so they congratulated me. After seven years at his side, after I had stabilised the Fontana family, crushed three internal revolts, and secured enough elders' votes to make him the next Don, everyone, including myself, took it for granted that I would be the woman standing beside him. Until I paused outside a private room and heard his friends laughing. "Marco, your Donna selection list is insane. Twelve women, one ring, and you grade them every month?" A whistle. "Right now it's down to Elena and that little nightclub girl you keep in the penthouse, isn't it?" "What if you don't marry Elena after all this?" another man asked. "She gave you seven years. She might lose her mind." Marco's lazy laugh cut through the smoke. "Whoever performs best becomes my wife. Fair rule." The room erupted. "Come on, you're obviously favouring your mistress. Elena can't win if you keep giving that girl perfect scores." His voice turned playful, almost amused. "I gave Elena the chance. If she still loses, she can only blame herself." I stood frozen, the blood draining from my heart. After a long silence, I pulled out my phone and called my father. "Dad, I agree to come home." "I'll accept the marriage alliance arranged by the Commission."

An enemies-to-lovers murder mystery story, following the link between an ordinary girl with the powerful man in town. After Bella manages to escape her abusive boyfriend, she winds up on the streets drugged, bruised and barely conscious. Then her knight appears, scooping her up and bringing her to safety. He seems familiar. Fate has brought them together again, only for her to ruin his life with her horrible past, and for him to leave her a helpless fool.

For one year, I believed Matteo De Luca had truly fallen in love with me. Our marriage began as an alliance, but he held me every night, kissed me before council meetings, and fastened the De Luca Donna brooch at my throat as if I already belonged beside him. Then his first love, Vanessa Ashford, came back. Within days, our official ceremony was postponed, her access was added to the Donna wing, and Matteo stopped wearing the family signet he once used to claim me in public. He said it was council business. But council business did not leave amber perfume on his skin. It did not sit beside him on a private jet to Palm Beach. And it certainly did not smile from the Donna’s chair while his friends watched me lose my place. The final humiliation came at a private dinner, when someone asked whether I was Matteo’s wife. He looked at me, then said calmly, “Elena and I have an arrangement.” That night, I stopped waiting to be chosen. Matteo could keep his first love, his title, and the home he let her enter. I packed my passport, my Florence contract, and the prenatal report he had never seen. Then I left New York with his child.

The Mad Donna He Never Really Married For three years, I was Donna of the rising Valenti family. One day, Enzo was holding a meeting at a private cigar club. I worried about his stomach issues, so I went to bring him his usual antacids. Standing outside the private room, I heard his men laughing. “Don Enzo, are you really going to keep Clara hidden away at the Silver Lake villa forever?” “That mad Moretti heiress in the main house is still parading around as Donna of the Valenti family.” Enzo rubbed the bridge of his nose and scoffed. “If she hadn’t taken a bullet to the head for me and gone insane, and if I hadn’t desperately needed her family’s capital, I never would have married a woman with no blood ties to the life.” “But Clara is my legal wife. The family trust, the marriage certificate at City Hall, it’s all in her name.” “Stella’s just a plaything I keep at the main house. Once Clara gives birth to an heir, I’ll bring her home for good.” My knuckles turned white as I squeezed the small box of medicine, the cardboard crumpling in my hand. He had exchanged blood oaths and rings with me in the church, yet it was Clara who had signed the papers at City Hall. He played me for a fool, all to keep Clara’s reputation clean. Clutching the box, I turned and melted back into the shadows. He had no idea my sanity had returned three days ago. He would never guess I had already sent an encrypted message to my brother, who runs a business empire from our home in Solaria, far across the sea. I was done with this goddamn Valenti title.