Novel & Cerita Shaggy Ball Z

I was New York’s golden girl, the perfect princess. But for three years, I loved a monster, Don Damien Costello. I finally got the courage to propose. And I found him kissing another woman, Sophia Marcelli, the princess of our rival family. "I'm bored with you, my perfect little doll. I need a real queen. Sophia is the only one fit to be by my side." All of New York was talking. Damien Costello had tossed me aside. So I moved on, Found another man. Left my old self behind. We kissed in a cramped elevator. I did something I'd never dared to do. I just never expected the doors to open. And there he was. My ex. Don Damien. His face was pure murder.

I’m the princess of the Moretti family, the Chicago Outfit. But all I ever cared about was sculpting. The day before Thanksgiving, my car died on me. I had to drive home in some beat-up, mud-caked Jeep. The second I walked into the penthouse, some strange woman shoved a pile of silver polish into my arms. She jutted her chin at me. “Get these polished before the dinner party,” she sneered. I looked at her. She was wearing my late mother’s favorite silk robe. This is my house. Who the hell was this woman? And who was supposed to polish this junk? Me? The only princess of the Moretti family? I pulled out my phone. Opened the family's encrypted app. I sent a message to my father, Vincenzo. “Your new pet wants me to polish the silver.”

The night Gloria Leach—my husband's ex—died in the rain, he floored it and drove us off a cliff. That's when it clicked. Evan Patterson had always hated me for getting between him and Gloria. Then I woke up, I was back on the wedding day. This time, he didn't even pause. Ditched the rings. Ran straight to her outside the church. I didn't cry. Didn't make a scene. I just called it off. While they turned their reunion into a show, I said yes to someone else. In this life, Evan and I were strangers. Until eight years later. An auction. I placed a no-cap bid on the final item—sapphire cufflinks. Won. I was leaving when Evan stepped in front of me, scowling. "Robyn, stop embarrassing yourself. Even if you bought every cufflink on earth for me, I still wouldn't love you. Gloria's the only one in my heart." I didn't even look at him. Just reached for the little girl beside me. "Sweetheart, say hi to the gentleman." He saw her face—mine, copied clean. His eyes went red, and his grip snapped around my wrist. "She's our daughter?"

My cold-blooded Mafia boss, Don Cassius, tore my painting to shreds. Right in front of everyone. I needed to vent. I texted a picture of my legs in fishnets to my dark web sugar daddy. [Wanna be stepped on by your Mistress? Stroke it for me. Now.] I looked up. Cassius—usually an untouchable iceberg in a bespoke suit—swallowed hard. His ears flushed a dark red. Curious, I sneaked a peek at his phone. My photo. My filthy command. Both flashing on his screen. Holy shit. Ice shot through my veins. My stupid fucking thumb slipped... and hit the video call button.

I masterminded a half-billion-dollar art auction to wash money for Miles’s family. But at the celebration party, Miles gave all the credit to Rebecca. His childhood friend. The daughter of the family’s consigliere. I stormed into his study. “Miles, head curator was Rebecca? Are you sure about that?” He looked up from a cloud of smoke, pulling me into his arms. His voice was a low, soothing rumble. “Valerie, I know you want to prove yourself, but this was all Rebecca. Especially the Caravaggio. The real one, worth three hundred million. She’s the one who pulled it off.” His lips brushed my forehead, his breath hot. “I don’t love you because you can fix some old paintings. You’re my queen, always. My girl. You don’t have to worry about her.” I almost laughed. The anger was choking me. “She can’t tell the difference between oil and acrylic. How the hell would she know a real from a fake?” “Enough!” Miles cut me off, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I know what Rebecca can do. Don’t make a scene just because you’re jealous.” His hands tightened, trapping me in his smoky embrace. “Don’t disappoint me, Valerie.” But he already had. When I’d had enough of his favoritism and his blindness, I walked. And that's when he went crazy. Scoured the earth looking for me. Begging me to come back, saying he was blind, that he’d been wrong about everything.

Anita didn't want her father's wealth to fall into the hands of her half-brother and stepmother. Marriage was the prerequisite for holding company shares. Anita ultimately chose a random man she met at the hospital. He needed money because his face was disfigured and deformed. "I'll pay for the hospital bills, but you have to be my husband." Anita married him, regardless of his bandaged face. Marriage wasn't important to Anita, as long as she could get all her family's wealth back. A mysterious man smiled with satisfaction at Anita's crazy request to marry him. To hide his identity, he accepted her crazy offer. "Okay, let's get married, honey." The mysterious man smiled meaningfully. If he knew her identity, she would surely regret marrying him. Who exactly was Anita's husband? What would happen to Anita after she found out who her secret husband was? Would she truly regret it?

To seize more territory, the ancestors of the Black Moon Pack desecrated the Moon Goddess's altar. For their crime, a deadly curse was woven into their bloodline: no male wolf of their pack lives past the full moon of his thirtieth year. The only cure is to mark a she-wolf with the blood of the Moon Goddess, using her song to suppress the rage that boils in their blood. In my last life, I was that cure. I was married to their Alpha, Corbin. He marked me before the entire pack, binding us as mates. But once the threat of death was gone, he had me thrown into an asylum. "I never believed in that Moon Goddess blood crap. If the pack hadn't forced me to marry you, Faye never would have run off and married that Beta from the neighboring pack. Now she's broken mate bond, and I'm going to make her my Luna, no matter what. As for you, go to hell." Then he shattered our bond, whispered to the guards, and walked away. I was locked in a silver cage, tortured day after day with injections of silver poison. On the day of Corbin and Faye's mating ceremony, the guards gave me a fatal dose. A fiery agony tore through me. My body convulsed, and then… endless darkness. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back at my own marking ceremony. This time, I'm going to watch. And I'm going to see if Corbin can survive his thirtieth birthday without my blood.

To keep the peace between humans and shifters, those chosen by the Oracle are forced to mate with their bound partners. And me? I was forced to be the shared mate of twin black dragons. Every night, I brewed two glasses of moon-wine to help them sleep. The older brother, Kaelen, was cold. But when he took his glass, his scalding fingertips would brush my wrist in a silent promise, and he’d murmur a soft thanks. But the younger one, Cassian? A vicious temper. He’d smash the glass, hurl insults, and crush me with the weight of his dragon aura. I had been lying to myself. Walking on eggshells. Desperately keeping a fragile peace. Until a fellow apothecary told me the truth. She hesitated, then said: "He treats you like dirt. The other one is gentle. Why do they both get the same precious moon-wine? How is that fair to the one who actually cares?" I thought about it all day. She was right. Late that night, I left the apothecary in a sheer silk robe, carrying only one glass of moon-wine.

I married Don Matteo in secret. Every time he fucked his childhood sweetheart, he promised me a real wedding，in front of the Five Families. For five years, Matteo promised me ninety-nine times. And ninety-nine times, he left me at the altar. The first time, Cecilia’s prize-winning show cat died. To comfort her, he postponed the wedding for three months. I stood at the altar alone, eyes red, trying to calm down the family elders. The second time, Cecilia threw a tantrum at a casino and shattered a hundred-million-dollar antique vase. He diverted the private jet meant for their wedding and rushed through the night to clean up her mess. And every time, right before our wedding, his childhood sweetheart would have some kind of emergency. I cried. I screamed. I even held a gun to his head. But Matteo would just pin me against the wall and shut me up with a cold, hard kiss. “She’s just a fuck. You are Mrs. Falcone. Have some goddamn class.” After the ninety-ninth time, I was finally done. I slid the papers across the table. The ink was still wet, the Falcone family seal stamped at the bottom. “Our marriage, our alliance—it’s over.”

After our rivals murdered my parents, I had to become something else. A fortress. I held the Blackthorne family together all by myself. My younger sister, Anna, couldn't stand the life—the blood and the fear. She cried, begging me to send her away, to college overseas. I said yes. And the first thing she does when she gets back? She goes to the Commission and accuses me of stealing her inheritance. She said it with this entitled, high-and-mighty tone. "My boyfriend, Victor, the Falcone heir, says I can't lose." "I just want what's mine," she said. "Half of the $8.7 million Mom and Dad left, and half of the Blackthorne family's power. Fair is fair, right?" But she knew damn well she'd already blown through every last cent of that $8.7 million. And the extra ten million I'd earned for her on top of that. That's when it hit me. My sacrifice hadn't just been for nothing. I'd raised a goddamn wolf, and she was insatiable. So this time, I let the kindness die. I gave her a cold smile. "My sweet, naive sister. It's time I showed you how a real Godmother plays."