Mafia Wife Name

When Asher Terrell's family crumbled into bankruptcy, I stood steadfast by his side. We lived in a dank basement, where I toiled through three jobs to help clear their crushing debts. He bounced back and proposed, promising me a true home. Three years into our marriage, I discovered the deed to our house bore the name of his first love. "This is what I owe her," he confessed. Swallowing my pain, I nodded and pushed forward a photo from back when we were crammed in that basement, with a whole table piled high with debt notices. "You've paid your debt to her with our house," I said. "But what about the debt you owe me?"

They’ve spent years at each other’s throats billionaire CEO Adrian Kellerham and Outspoken, spoilt Christine Paige daughter of Top conglomerate current CFO. Rivals in business, nemesis from birth. So when CHRISTINE father announces she’s being married to him she has no choice but to agree because it depends on her inheritance and fully taking over of the company DREAMSPACE. Can she fight against it or marry the man she hates.

I was Byron Estrada's doormat, always there to fulfill his every whim. But Byron hated me, ridiculing me at every turn. It was all because three years ago, I ran away the day before our wedding. Now, three years later, I had returned with a child—whose real father just so happened to be Byron's brother.

In the seventh year of my marriage, I accidentally discover a document in the study. Upon flipping it open, I realize that it's a will left behind by my husband, Luca Bernadi. The will clearly states that if Luca were to die someday in the future, all of his assets and his mafia kingdom would be inherited by a little boy named Nico Bernadi. The one next in line for the inheritance is my half-sister, Angela Fasano. I, his legally-wedded wife, am the last one in line. At first, I refuse to believe the legitimacy of this will. After taking it to the notary's office, I'm informed that the will is notarized and in effect. At that moment, I feel as though my blood has turned into ice. I never expect that this marriage I once took pride in had left me with only betrayal. In that case, I no longer need to cling to this marriage.

He stole my name. Then he tried to steal my life. But he’ll never steal my heart will he?” When August Hale, a quiet literature student with a past he tries to forget, transfers to a prestigious university under a scholarship, all he wants is to stay invisible, graduate, and move on. But his plan falls apart the moment he discovers another student on campus using his exact full name. Same name. Same birthday. Same hometown. But this August Hale is wealthy, charming, and cruel and he already knows too much. At first, August thinks it’s a prank. A coincidence. Until he starts losing things His place in classes His reputation His identity The fake August Hale, whose real name is Sebastian Wolfe, is playing a dangerous game. And when he sets his sights on the real August, obsession begins to blur the line between identity theft and romantic fixation. August wants answers. Sebastian wants August. But as August begins to dig into Sebastian’s past, he unearths something much darker than he expected a twisted reason why Sebastian chose him and why he can’t let him go.

Stella sacrificed her body for Adrian, only to discover she was nothing more than a replacement for her sister, Clara. Adrian deeply loves Clara and sees Stella as nothing but a gold digger. Heartbroken and betrayed, she decides to leave and start a new life. But when she walks away, Adrian desperately tries to get her back, offering money in exchange for her love. Just as he thinks he can take her back, Stella’s five mafia brothers appear. They glare at Adrian, sneering, “She’s our mafia princess. You’re not fit to have her.”

Everyone in Palermo knew Alessandro De Luca had a reputation. He was the Boss of the De Luca family, one of the oldest bloodlines in Sicily — a name tied to the port, the courts, and half the construction contracts in Palermo. Wealth, power, discipline—those things were expected. Romance was not. He didn’t chase women, and he never went back to the same one twice. Until me. When we broke up after a brutal argument, he did something no De Luca had done in generations—he stood outside the gates of the Moretti estate, my family home, for an entire day and night. I watched from behind the curtains and never opened the door. The next day, he came inside the estate kitchen himself. Alessandro De Luca, who grew up surrounded by servants, tried to cook my favorite seafood pasta with his own hands. He burned the sauce. I threw it away without tasting it. On the third day, he found the necklace my grandmother had left me—something my uncle had sold years ago—and bought it back, paying far more than it was worth, just to return it to me. At a formal family dinner, in front of elders and allies, he made it clear: No more women. Only me. It took him a year to win me back. That summer, fireworks lit up the Palermo coastline as he announced our engagement. I believed he had chosen me. Until the night of a private gathering at an old harbor estate. A young woman was being pulled forward in the middle of the courtyard, her dress torn at the shoulder, tears running down her face. Alessandro went still. Then he stood up. He didn’t look at me. He didn’t explain. He just walked toward her. And something inside me went cold. I rested my hand over my abdomen. There was something I hadn’t told him yet. He broke his word that night. So I broke mine.

Tatapan tajam. Dingin dan tak banyak bicara adalah ciriku. Aku terlahir dari orang tua yang tak menginginkan adanya diriku disisi mereka sehingga mereka membuangku di panti asuhan. Kerasnya hidup membuat aku memiliki naluri sebagai seorang pembunuh. Aku melampiaskan setiap amarahku terhadap sikap orang tuaku kepada para korbanku. Aku menikmati kesakitan dan ketakutan mereka terhadap maut yang aku ciptakan di hadapan mereka. Aku memilih pekerjaan sebagai pembunuh bayaran. Karena ternyata aku mengidap pshycopat. Dan aku biasa dipanggil ANDRA. Aku sengaja tidak langsung menghabisi nyawa mereka tapi aku lebih memilih membunuh mereka perlahan dengan cara ini aku mendapatkan kepuasan. Hingga aku bertemu seseorang yang mampu mengubah sifat iblisku menjadi sosok manusia yang lebih baik bahkan jauh lebih baik. Siapa dia? Ikuti kisahku ANDRA.

Jazzie Zamora is a well-known model in the Philippines. She's rich, beautiful, elegant and has many other qualities that you will admire. Everyone believes that she has a perfect life, but little did they know that it was the other way around. Hellish; it's the exact word you can use to describe her life. Being a secret wife of a mafia boss was a dream that turned into a nightmare. Despite of all those shits happening, will she still choose to stay? How much can she put up for her ruthless husband?

Bridget's lips curled slightly into a satisfied smirk. “We’ll see. Start the car and drive me to the city.” “Yes, ma’am,” Hans said as he opened the passenger door for her. As the car pulled out of the mansion’s long driveway, Bridget couldn’t help but notice Hans's composure. His movements were precise, his demeanor calm. “You drive well,” she remarked. “Thank you, ma’am,” Hans replied without breaking his focus on the road. Bridget tilted her head, studying him. “Why become a driver?” she asked suddenly. Hans hesitated for a moment. “Personal reasons, ma’am.” “Hmm. You’re full of secrets, aren’t you?” Bridget teased, though her tone carried genuine curiosity. Somehow, she wanted to know the deepest of the deepest of his driver. That's how it works for her. Maybe. Before Hans could reply, she noticed a black SUV trailing close behind them. Her instincts, sharp as ever, kicked in. “Hans, speed up,” she commanded. “We’re being followed.” “Yes, ma’am,” Hans said, immediately accelerating, maintaining his composed demeanor, and his expertise in driving. The black SUV matched their pace, confirming Bridget's suspicion. “Lose them,” she ordered, gripping her seatbelt. Hans’s hands moved deftly across the wheel, taking sharp turns and expertly navigating the highway. Bridget watched in amazement, realizing he was no ordinary driver. “Who are you, really?” she asked, her voice low and filled with intrigue. “Just your driver, ma’am,” Hans replied with a faint smile.