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One day. That’s all it took for Rivera Summers’ life to completely unravel. Almost sexually assaulted by her disgusting boss, Rivera Summers fought back—and paid the price by losing the job she had worked three years for. But losing her job was only the beginning of her nightmare. That same day, Rivera discovered her father was drowning in a dangerous gambling debt, one that had to be paid within twenty-four hours… or his daughter would be handed over instead. And without hesitation, her own father chose her. Terrified and unprepared for the dark world she was thrown into, Rivera found herself trapped under the control of the cold and dangerous Vespertine De Vil—a man feared by everyone. For Rivera, every passing day only dragged her deeper into a life filled with danger, cruelty, and secrets she was never meant to uncover. Hello to everyone about to embark on this journey with me! Thank you for being here. To me, this isn’t just a book—it is an experience. Content Warnings: Please note that this book will contain heavy and triggering themes. While I'm not yet sure exactly how dark it will get, I'll do my best to put specific trigger warnings at the beginning of any distressing chapters. Pacing & Style: This novel is a slow-burn and may not have the fast pacing of other mafia romances you've read. The characters are also completely unique and won't necessarily resemble those from other books. And that's okay! If this style isn't for you, feel free to drop it. However, I kindly ask that you don't use it as an excuse to leave negative or hateful reviews. Update Schedule: This is an original story, and while I cannot promise daily updates, you can expect a new chapter every two days!

My name is Isabella Wright. In my fifth year of marriage to the Don of a powerful mafia family, I find out that the protection charm he gave me causes me headaches whenever I bring it with me. I take out the sachet I find in the charm and bring it to Cursley Hospital. The doctor inspects the sachet and tells me that it contains a type of slow-acting poison that doesn't just cause harm to the victim's body but also renders them infertile after a while. I cry and exclaim, "But that's impossible! My husband gave this to me! His name is Vincenzo Cursley. He's also the person who owns this hospital!" The doctor looks at me in confusion. "Miss, I think you need to visit the psychiatrist. I know Mr. Cursley and his wife. They're very close and intimate with each other. Also, Mrs. Cursley just gave birth to a baby boy not too long ago. They're both now in the VIP ward, looking at their baby." Then, the doctor shows me a photo on his phone. Vincenzo was wearing his usual black suit with the Cursley family emblem embroidered on it. He was holding a baby in his arms, and as for the woman standing next to him… I know her. Her name is Claudia Henderson. And Vincenzo has always referred to her as his adoptive sister.

I did three years in prison for my wife, Lilian Parson. The day I got out, she handed me an envelope for her company's grand opening. Inside was a single dollar bill. For a second, I thought it was a mistake. Then I saw her colleague, Nathan Ramsey, holding his envelope—his also contained a single dollar. Relieved, I pushed my doubts aside. I smiled, stood by Lilian's side through the entire ceremony, the picture of a proud, supportive husband. That night, scrolling through Instagram, I saw Nathan's latest post. A photo of a check. [Congratulations to Lilian Parson on the grand opening! So generous—100 million as a gift!] The comments section exploded with envy and blessings, congratulating him and "the boss" on finally becoming a couple. Lilian offered no explanation. Instead, she hurried to draw a line between us. "You just got out of prison," she said coolly. "It's not a good look to go public right now. Let's keep our marriage a secret. In front of others, just call me your boss." Then she turned around and liked Nathan's post. I wiped the tears from my eyes, picked up my phone, and dialed the number of her greatest rival. "From now on, I work for you," I said.

Jeremy Hansen throws a divorce agreement at Joanna Thompson on the day she finds out she's pregnant with twins. He also gives her 300 million dollars as their breakup fee. Why? Because his true love is back in the country! Joanna doesn't kick a fuss or throw a tantrum. She takes the money and moves out of their marital home without argument. She doesn't expect Jeremy to be so cruel, though—he wants her to abort the children. Why should she listen to him? "You're not going to abort them, huh?" Jeremy sneers. "Do you think we won't have to go through with the divorce if you're still pregnant with my children?" Joanna sneers back at him. A few days later, she accidentally miscarries. After being discharged from the hospital, she and Jeremy finalize the divorce. Three years later, the paparazzi capture Joanna on a street abroad while holding onto a pair of adorable boy-girl twins. Jeremy stares at the photo as his eyes slowly redden. Then, he flies abroad at top speed to stand in Joanna and the twins' way. "You've played me for three years, Joanna! It's high time that you stop with this tantrum." She takes off her sunglasses and raises a nonchalant eyebrow. "Sorry, but who are you?"

There's this unspoken rule in werewolf high society: no matter how tight the mate bond is, business banquets mean booking a hostess. Six years into our bond, my Alpha mate—Brian Stormclaw—met one. Louise. A scrappy Omega with too much pride and not enough sense. When he offered her his black card, she pushed it back and said, "I'm not some Alpha's pampered pet." Brian? Instantly hooked. Like the Moon Goddess herself had dropped her in his lap. He chased her like he wanted her mark on every pack crest. But he forgot something—I was the Luna he wrote ninety-nine love letters to before I said yes. I didn't beg. Didn't snap. Every time he chose her over me, I lit another letter. First one burned on our anniversary—he bailed to wait outside Louise's flower shop, just to walk her home. Letter thirty-four? He left me stranded in a dangerous hunting ground to keep her company. Said she was scared of the dark. Fifty-two? Torched the second he replaced our wedding photo with some sketch she made on. ... And when the ninety-ninth turned to ash, so did whatever was left of us. I walked away. For good.

On the day I was supposed to swap marriages with my sister, Sylvia Hayes, I chose to be a battalion commander's wife instead. Then, watching Sylvia wither away from late-stage stomach cancer until she was nothing but skin and bones, a few strange lines suddenly appeared before my eyes. [Great news! The heroine is about to be reborn!] [What a joke. What good is being an officer's wife? That scumbag will take his mistress to live on base with him, leaving her to starve in that old house!] [After she's reborn, she should pick Miles Williams, the steel factory director! He secretly kept her photo and loved her his whole life!] Miles, the husband Sylvia used to mock as 'nothing but a money-grubbing brute,' was holding a tin cup, trying to give her water. Sylvia suddenly grabbed his wrist, her bulging eyes boring into me. "Laura Hayes...you had food saved up. Why wouldn't you help me?!" She died with her finger pointed at me. Miles' jaw was clenched so tightly that the muscles in his cheeks bulged, and then he suddenly lunged forward and wrapped his hands around my throat. When I opened my eyes again, the room's blackened mud walls were hung with an old, faded calendar.

Nilah Mariel traded her name, her money, and her family for one man. Three years ago, she walked out of her penthouse in heels and walked into a marriage with Marcus Lawinston, convinced he’d always choose her. He didn’t. Now she’s the wife he forgot to come home to, watching him build a life with someone else. The night she finally signs the divorce papers, she totals a stranger’s Bentley in the rain. Darien Vale is everything she’s not supposed to want, he’s arrogant, too rich, and used to getting his way. He offers her a deal: be his date for one night, and he’ll forget the accident ever happened. It sounds simple. An escape. A night off from being the woman everyone left behind. It isn’t. One gala. One dance. One photo of her on Darien’s arm, and suddenly Marcus remembers who she is. Because Nilah isn’t just his ex-wife. She’s an heiress. Now she’s back in the world of old money, family expectations, and a man who looks at her like she’s the only person in the room. The question isn’t whether she wants revenge anymore. It’s whether she can stop before the fake thing with Darien starts feeling real.

Just three days after we got engaged, I stumbled across a private story posted by the girl he had grown up with. 'Too bad the boy who confessed to me ninety-nine times is marrying someone else in ten days.' In the photo, he trailed behind her through a crowded mall, his arms loaded with shopping bags, looking as if he had rehearsed the scene a hundred times. Curious, I scrolled down to read the comments. 'No way. The childhood-best-friend and first-love storyline still lost? Girl, that hurts.' 'Lost? He's getting married and still spending the whole day shopping with her. She didn't lose anything.' 'I feel bad for the bride. I'm seriously waiting for confession number one hundred to happen at the wedding, followed by a runaway groom scene.' Watching strangers bicker in the comments, I quietly pressed the like button, blending into their chaos. None of them knew that in just ten days, I would be the one stepping away from the altar. The fake-death package I'd ordered was already in motion. While my fiance and his childhood sweetheart mourned the love they claimed was out of reach, I quietly counted down the days until I could disappear for good.

I spent four years pretending to be obedient by West Graham’s side. Four years ago, after the video of Nina Avery running over my younger sister was exposed, my boyfriend, Jake Smith, hired a top-tier defense attorney for her to clear her name. When I was completely alone, with no one to rely on, it was Nina’s stepbrother, West, who stepped forward and chose justice over blood. He found a lawyer for me and gathered witness testimonies and physical evidence everywhere he could. In the end, he personally sent Nina to prison. When everything finally settled, West proposed to me, and I said yes. However, in the fourth year of our marriage, I saw an email in West’s inbox. It was a birthday message from Nina, and attached was a selfie of her smiling brightly at the beach. In the bottom-right corner of the photo was yesterday’s date. [Happy birthday, West! It’s been four years since I received Erin’s sister’s heart. There haven’t been any complications at all. Thanks to you and Jake, I’m given a second chance in life.] West replied. [To make you happy, I’ll do anything.] After reading all of it, I smiled brighter than ever. It’s been four years, and their time to die has finally come.

After returning home from abroad, I took a job as a driver to broaden my horizons. However, I got hired to drive a car with my dad’s car plate, and the location I was sent to was the city’s largest nightclub. I was suspicious about the location where I would pick up the car and the client. When I arrived, I found a bunch of people buttering up the poor student my family used to sponsor. “Have you had fun today, Mr. Morgan?” they asked. “If you’re unhappy with the ladies tonight, we’ll make sure there are better ones tomorrow night!” It was only when he called me that I realized he was my client. I went and questioned him about why he was driving my dad’s car, but he kicked me to the ground. “How dare a mere driver try to scam me? Get down on your knees and kiss my feet!” Then, he ordered his bodyguards to hold me down. They made me do as he asked. He went so far as to press cigarettes into my face, burning me. I withstood the pain and sent a photo of my dad’s car to my family’s group chat. [Dad, why are you going to Dreamscape behind Mom’s back and hiring girls for a night out?]