Left Behind 2 Tribulation Force Novels & Stories

That year, during the Sicilian arms trafficking conflict, my lover of three years, Silvio, deliberately betrayed my transport routes at a critical moment in a deal with the rival "DiMarco" family, causing me to lose all my territory. He immediately defected to the DiMarco family's leader Marina, becoming her lover. As he left, he didn't even bother to disguise his betrayal, coldly tossing out, "What we had was just business, nothing personal." While I was burdened with my family's blood debts and pushed to the edge of a cliff, Lorenzo, who had secretly harbored feelings for me since childhood, found me and offered his family's entire fortune. "Isabella, don't be afraid. In my eyes, you'll always be Sicily's most formidable Queen of the Arms Trade," he said. He took the Colt pistol from my hand, and his voice was gentle yet resolute. Five years later, my power resurged. I was about to completely crush Marina's smuggling network and reclaim everything I had lost. My caporegimes, the captains of my organization, were ready and waiting for my command. But on the night before the operation, my weapons warehouse suddenly exploded, turning priceless arms into worthless scrap metal. I barely escaped through the thick smoke, my body covered in burns. In a secluded monastery, I overheard Lorenzo and Silvio whispering outside my door. "You really had the guts to blow up the arsenal. Weren't you afraid of blasting her to pieces too?" Silvio's voice carried a mocking tone. "If she died, just died. I've always loved Marina. If it weren't for that unlucky family marriage lottery five years ago, I wouldn't have had to endure this ugly bitch for all this time." Lorenzo's voice was ice-cold and unfamiliar. I closed my eyes, feeling like a dagger had pierced my chest. Explosion. Arranged marriage. Ugly bitch. So those five years of shared hardship were just his unwilling choice after losing a high-stakes gamble. "I married her to keep watch. If it weren't for me paving

On the eve of giving birth, my world turned into a nightmare. My husband’s sworn enemy broke into our home, seeking revenge. I was brutally cut open and my baby was ripped from me. Yet, I made the chilling choice not to call my husband for help. In my previous life, desperate and terrified, I begged him to return home. He abandoned a Valentine’s dinner with a scholarship student to rush back. That night, the student was preyed upon in a bar, leading to her tragic suicide. My husband’s wrath was unrelenting. Blaming me for her death, he locked me in a kennel, leaving me to be savaged to death. “This is the pain Wynne endured because of you. Now it’s your turn to suffer!” Given a second chance, I resolved to make a different choice. This time, I let him stay for his romantic Valentine’s evening with her. But when I returned home, he had spiraled into madness.

After I got back with Lily Reid, I finally had a chance to catch a breather. She no longer returned home late, and she no longer hid her social media posts from me. Finally, I no longer felt like an insecure madman in our relationship. It was as if nothing had happened before. Things were very peaceful. It seemed as though love could ease everything. One day, Lily got into a car accident. My childhood friend was with her, and he was found completely naked. The police passed the mediation letter to me and said sternly, “The surveillance footage showed that your girlfriend was driving distractedly and hit the car in the opposite lane.” I signed the letter numbly. Then, I collected the items from the car accident. There were a pair of sexy leggings, birth control products, and a guarantee letter that had been torn into pieces. [I, Lily Reid, promise to cut all ties with David Anderson, or I will rot in hell.] When I rushed to the hospital, Lily was struggling to sit upright and shield David. “I was the one who went to him. If you’re angry, direct it to me!” I shook my head and laughed in relief. It turned out no matter how hard I held on, I could not save the romance. The air tickets that I bought for our anniversary trip became my exit.

The second day after I was transferred back to Los Angeles, I ran into someone I used to know on a street corner. She stepped right in front of me, eyes going wide. “Mia? Mia Rossi? Why would you come back now? Dante's marrying Camille at the cathedral in a week.” Dante was my first love, and also the youngest heir to a mafia dynasty on this side of the Atlantic. He'd made me a promise once: that he'd make the entire Moretti family kneel and welcome me in. We had a deal: the day he officially took over as Don would be the day he married me. But his family had other plans. They arranged a match for him: Camille, a princess from one of Sicily's five great families. Pure bloodline, the genuine article. At first, Dante swore up and down she meant nothing to him. Less than nothing. Then I started noticing how he looked at her. Softer every time. Like he was falling. One night, riding home after a shift at the bar, Camille's car came out of nowhere and took me down. The gas tank caught, and half the block reeked of burning rubber and scorched metal. I was pinned under the wreckage, blood seeping from the back of my skull down my neck, warm at first, then cold. Dante was the first one there. He beat the ambulance. The first thing he did was walk past me. He crouched down, lifted Camille out of the passenger seat, and didn't look at me once, just dropped a few words over his shoulder: “I already called an ambulance. Hang tight. Camille's had too much to drink. I need to get her home.” That was the moment I was done with him. Completely, finally done. While he was gone, I discharged myself. I bought the farthest plane ticket I could find that same night and left without looking back. Five years passed. “Mia, you have no idea.” The woman grabbed my wrist, dropping her voice. “Dante spent years turning half of Europe upside down looking for you. You came back at the right time. He still keeps a seat for you every month on his birthday. Camille's too proud for a lot of things,

Growing up, my mother always told me — choose your fated mate. Otherwise, you'll end up betrayed. But I was convinced Lennox was different. After all, he was willing to give up his position as Alpha for me. So I gave up my own fated mate for him. I even nearly died saving his life, and the injuries left my wolf permanently dormant. But barely two years later, rumors about him and an Omega named Alice were everywhere. And because my wolf was dormant, I couldn't sense a thing. I didn't find out he'd broken our vows until Alice showed up at my door with a pregnancy test. The whole Stonebrook Pack was laughing behind my back. Lennox dropped to his knees, eyes red and swollen. "I'm sorry. I was drunk that night. I'll make her end the pregnancy. I swear." I looked down at our one-year-old son in my arms. I nodded and forgave him — that one time. After that, he behaved. He was attentive, affectionate, doting — until one day, five years later, when I was at the gym. A young woman on the machine beside me was whining. "Everything down there gets so loose after having a baby. I really need to tighten things up." I didn't bother looking at her face. I let out a quiet laugh and started to leave. Then her phone rang. She answered, her voice coy and flirtatious. "So, Alpha Lennox — when are you finally going to end things with that woman? She's old, and she's lost her wolf. Can she even satisfy you?" "Of course not. I miss you so much, baby." I froze mid-step at the sound of his voice.

My husband was working over the holidays, again. He’d been sent out of town to oversee one of the Family’s dock operations and a string of gambling houses.. I decided to buy a ticket and surprise him. Only business class was left. Staring at the five-figure price, I gritted my teeth and spent a year’s worth of savings. Then I couldn’t even figure out how to pull down the damn tray table. The socialite seated next to me let out a cold laugh. “Never flown business class before?” I forced an awkward smile. “My apologies. You must be… important. You have that aura.” “Oh, me? No. The man who keeps me is important. He’d charter a private jet if I asked. Business class is practically slumming it.” I blinked. “A… keeper? That’s rare.” “Not really. I’m his secretary. I mess up a lot. Cost him a fortune. He yells at me until I cry. And then, well… crying leads to other things.” She winked. “You know how it is.” “Funny,” I said, my voice tight. “My husband has an assistant who helps him manage accounts for the docks. She’s always messing things up too.” “You’re married?” She looked me over, head to toe. “My man has a wife about your age. Says he’s sick of her. That touching her is boring. Says I’m more exciting just brushing my hair out of my face.” She leaned closer. “I told him I wanted to see him for New Year’s. So he told the wife he had to work.” The diamond on her finger caught the light. It was identical to the wedding band I’d lost. My body went cold. No. Matteo was just a low-level enforcer. A foot soldier the Family occasionally trusted with small operations—dock shipments, backroom gambling, nothing more. When did he become a Don?

”What are you doing here, Ashton?” Megan asked angrily, and she hated herself because even if she was angry with him she can't deny he has still the same effect on her. ”To win back your heart, and claim what is rightfully mine.” He replied, and his intense gaze is driving her crazy. "You have nothing to claim because you lose your chance eight years ago." She answered coldly. Megan was shocked to find the man she hated the most, standing on her doorstep, who became more attractive and still wears the same smile that always melts her heart. Her first love, Ashton, can she kept her promise never to forgive him? Can Ashton convince Megan to give him another chance, and make her believe that he is now a different man and he regretted everything he had done to her?

Seven years married to the Don, and I was finally worn down. During the family meeting I was buried in the paperwork and didn't notice my coffee cup had left a ring on the table. Elio brought the whole thing to a halt. "Danielle. The coaster. I'm not going to say it a third time." Every capo at the table turned to look at me, helpless. My face burned. Then his secretary, Fiona, reached over with a coaster and knocked the coffee over herself. He was on his feet in an instant, all concern. "You okay? Did it burn you?" I froze. I had never once seen Elio go this gentle in the middle of chaos. Fiona gave a shy little smile and came over to me. "Donna. Your coaster." I looked at that young, pretty face of hers. So it wasn't that Elio had no rules. He just didn't use them on her. I stood up. And with everyone watching, I walked straight out of the meeting room. Elio, I'm done waiting on you.

For three agonizing years, my mother struggled with kidney failure. Finally, after all the waiting and the constant dialysis, she was next in line for a transplant. Hope seemed so close. But then, my husband, Zachary Levi, an esteemed nephrology professor, did the unforgivable. He surreptitiously gave his lover's mother the kidney that was intended for my mother. He said almost dismissively, "Ella's mother couldn't wait any longer. Your mother's been on dialysis for so long, she's not going to die anytime soon." Later, my mother passed away. I called Zachary one final time. Yet, it was a woman who answered. "Margaret, right? Zachary's in the shower. Is there something you need?" I stared at my mother's smile on the gravestone, and an overwhelming emptiness spread through me. "It's nothing. Just wanted to talk about the divorce."

The day my fated mate Cole stood at the altar for the ceremony with his childhood sweetheart Kate, I was in the crowd, clapping my hands. Everyone assumed I had lost my mind over an unrequited love. Cole must have thought so too. He hurried over to me, seized my wrist tightly, and snarled a threatening warning: "This is Kate's greatest wish, the only thing she's ever asked for. She's fragile. Who knows how long she has left." "You wouldn't want her to die with that one regret, would you?" I gave a cold smile and took a sip of my champagne. "Of course not." In my last life, I had watched Kate taunt me from Cole's arms and I had screamed that she wasn't sick at all, that she was lying. I had torn the ceremony apart and forced Cole to stop it. Kate couldn't bear the humiliation. She ran out sobbing and was killed in a car accident. After that, Cole fabricated a charge of treason against my pack to avenge her. My parents were imprisoned by the Alliance and starved to death over ten days. I was exiled, became a rogue, and eventually died — cornered and torn apart by a pack of rogues, full of rage I would never be able to spend. This time around, I would give him exactly what he wanted. Every time he betrayed me, I would reclaim one privilege I had given his pack. Three betrayals. Three privileges. And then he would have nothing left.