Papa Grande Creepypasta 소설 & 이야기

André D'Amore: I've known my whole life who I am. I'm a hybrid, Alpha heir, and too fabulous to be straight. I've lost count of how many times I've had to fight to defend my . Yet, I never expected to have to defend it from my mate. Not my problem that he's spent his life unaware he was in a closet. He needs to get his act together. Because my papa is naming me Alpha of the pack, we just defeated. And I want my mate at my side. Darren Delaney: I always thought I knew myself. That I knew my wolf, I've always been a soldier, a warrior, and I'm straight. One assignment has me questioning everything. I thought finding my mate would be the happiest day of my life. Instead, it's the most co

I'm representing the Rosa family at a mafia trade summit when we're ambushed on the road. In the chaos, I get separated from the only bodyguard assigned to protect me. When I finally overcome all hurdles and make it home alive, I see him step down from the vehicle that attacked us. The Soldati line up before him respectfully. "Mr. Marco, if you like Leonora, you could just tell the Don. Why pretend to be Viviana's bodyguard? You had us chase Viviana into the dangerous Neralis Rainforest so that Leonora could appear at the trade summit. She's been missing for three days now. Shall we send our men to look for her?" Marco Santis furrows his brows, and his fingers clench around a ring carv

My parents think I'm not ladylike enough, so they buy themselves a docile and sweet AI daughter called Serafina Moretti. On the day Serafina is brought home, I get bullied by the entire family. Papa hates the fact that I'm really bad at studying, unlike Serafina, who's quick to pick up on the knowledge after being taught for the first time. Mamma wrinkles her nose at my bright and active personality. Apparently, I'm not quiet enough, which annoys her and gives her a pounding headache all the time. My older brother, Dario Moretti, even berates me all the time. "You're a disgrace to the Moretti family! What else are you capable of doing other than eating and sleeping?" Even Serafina has t

I had been married to Alexander for three years. Everyone feared his ruthlessness, but he had always been incredibly gentle with me. But ever since Elena took a bullet for him during a shootout six months ago, everything changed. He always said she got hurt saving him, so I had to be accommodating. At the family’s most prestigious gala, my husband—the Don, Alexander—arrived with his secretary, Elena, on his arm. Pinned to her chest was the ruby brooch that symbolized the position of the Donna of the family. "Elena took a bullet for me. She liked the brooch, so I let her borrow it for a while. Regardless, you are the only donna here. Try to show some class." I didn't argue with him. I just r

In Alabama’s rot-soaked bayous, Drucilla Drakes survives by three rules: silence, scars, and never letting Louise—her Bible-thumping captor—catch her hoping. But when a schoolyard ambush leaves her bleeding beneath a stranger’s leather jacket, invisibility becomes a death sentence. Enter Dragon Morales: New Orleans’ most notorious runaway, a cartel prince turned outlaw mechanic with grease-stained hands and a death wish. He doesn’t save people—he survives them. Yet in Dru’s lashed flesh and hellfire gaze, he sees his own shattered reflection. Their bond is gasoline and matches. Dragon’s father—Colombia’s cartel kingpin—hunts them relentlessly. Louise, armed with voodoo rites and t

“Mama, does daddy really have another kid other than me?” her sickly daughter coughs, forcing a little smile as she asked. Aliana eyes flickered, before she wryly smiled. “It’s your birthday today Ana, don't bother yourself with ugly things.” She said so, and that's what made her daughter confirm her thoughts. As Aliana held her daughter hand tight, she watched as Ana pouty mouth pursed, “Mama…” she paused, a weak sigh coming out of her lips, “Marry papa uncle instead. I be okay.” Aliana left, determined,—when. Lancer cornered his wife, pressing her tightly on the wall, but his trembling hand that caressed her cheeks gently betrayed what he truly felt inside, “Please… don’t re

Everyone had been poisoned. The toast for my party had just happened and now people were dropping like flies around me. And then I saw him. He entered the hall like an angel of death, his dark brown eyes two pools of malevolence that shone with sinister intent.Despite his twenty years of age, he definitely had more kills under his belt than years on his person. I was viciously yanked into the hard body of the man responsible for everything going on.One muscular arm went over my chest, pinning me to him. Fear lodged itself in my throat upon the sensation of cool dangerous metal at my temple. I bit back a whimper. He was going to kill me. “The name is Gabriel Rossi,” he murmured,

By the fifth year of my marriage to James Hill, he began pretending to be his late twin brother, the late Don of the family. With that, he took over all of a Don’s duties and the role of my sister-in-law, Hilary’s husband. Every time after he slept with her, he would cut his arm open, kneel before me, and beg for forgiveness. “Pia, you’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. Once Hilary gives birth to the heir and secures her position, I’ll fake my death and come back for you.” He told me his twin brother had died saving him, so he had to fulfill his brother’s last wish. During the year he pretended to be his brother, James slept with Hilary ninety-nine times. After a full year, Hilary finall

"The Rossi family doesn't need a Don. We just need a Donna." As the only heiress of the Rossi family, this was the law that I had set when I received the Browning pistol—a pistol that resembles the ultimate authority in the Rossi family—from my Papa when he was on his deathbed. But three years ago, the police relentlessly investigated the money laundering business that my fiance, Lorenzo Moretti, was in charge of. If that business were to get exposed, the Rossi family's hundred-year-old legacy would be ruined. In order to protect my family's legacy and to allow Lorenzo to continue legalizing my family's businesses, I decided to become the scapegoat for all the crimes. On the rainy night

I was born in the slums with nothing to my name, yet somehow, I once saved the most dangerous man in all of Sicile. In a crumbling shack, I treated his wounds while he patched the leaks in my roof whenever it rained. Later, he pulled me out of that miserable life and brought me into the heavily guarded estate of a mafia family. Together, we even had a son. However, seven years had passed, and he still had never publicly acknowledged either our child or me, all because my background was too lowly. Gabriele Carlos once told me that as long as our son proved himself exceptional enough, the family would eventually accept him. So even at only seven years old, my son pushed himself desperately