She's Dating The Gangster Characters

The most powerful Godfather in the mafia underworld—Dante Costello—had an expensive diamond signet ring custom-made to fit my finger perfectly and sent straight to our home. He said that whoever could wear the ring would become the lady of his family. The Monroe family had long since fallen from grace. All that remained were four women. On ordinary days, we fought endlessly, tearing each other apart. Every single one of us wanted to marry Dante because marrying him meant preserving a life of dignity and comfort. In the first life, the fake heiress, Blair, secretly had the ring resized smaller and married into the family. Dante took one look at her, then had her thrown into the river to drown. “Not her.” In the second life, my cousin, Chloe, underwent plastic surgery to alter her fingers and force the ring on. Dante gifted her a staged car accident. “Still not her.” In the third life, my stepmother, Catherine, clenched her teeth and forced the ring onto her finger. Her blood hadn’t even dried when she married Dante. He coldly slashed her face, then locked her in the basement, where she slowly wasted away until death. By the fourth life, all three of them were terrified. None of them dared to marry him anymore, so they hurriedly pushed me forward instead. I put on the ring. This time, the size was perfect. Just when I thought my good days had finally begun, Dante stabbed me to death on our wedding night, his eyes burning red with madness. After my rebirth, the consigliere of the Dante family delivered the ring once again. This time, all four of us avoided it like the plague.

Three years ago, billionaire Damian Veyron buried his brother and vowed revenge on the man who destroyed his life. Now, the man is dead, but his daughter still breathes. Aria Chen has already lost everything, her parents, her dreams, and now her dying sister who needs a treatment she can’t afford. When a stranger in a black car offers her a lifeline, she takes it… until she realizes the price isn’t money. It’s her freedom. He wants her name. Her body. Her submission. A marriage bound not by love, but by vengeance. To save her sister, Aria signs the contract and becomes the bride of the man who swore to destroy her. But the devil in the tailored suit has secrets of his own, and the deeper she’s dragged into his world, the harder it becomes to tell which of them is truly trapped. A gripping dark romance of revenge, obsession, and forbidden desire, where love isn’t the cure, it’s the punishment..

My best friend Joanne and I were mated to Beta Shawn and his older brother, Alpha Edwin, on the same day. But three years after our bonds were formed, their childhood sweetheart, Carmen, returned. Both brothers were drawn to her like moths to a flame, and Joanne and I—once their mates—became little more than shadows in their lives. Joanne, unable to endure the cold neglect her mate had shown her, begged me to escape with her—and I agreed. But the night before we were supposed to leave, she leapt from Moonlit Crag and ended her own life. When I called Shawn, her mate, he didn’t believe me. Instead, he scoffed: “Jose, don’t you think this childish little trick is beneath you? Trying to get my attention like this?” When I reached out to Edwin, he only smirked, voice colder than the winds atop that cliff. “Jose, do you really expect me to believe you? You’re just jealous of Carmen. Don’t involve me in her drama anymore. She’s not worth the trouble—and neither are you.” Their indifference shattered what little hope remained. So I severed the bond with Edwin… and left without a word. But when Shawn finally learned the truth, he collapsed at Joanne’s grave, sobbing and begging for forgiveness. And Edwin? He howled into the night, desperation twisting his voice as he roared: “Come back, Jose! I won’t lose my mate—not you too!” But by then, I was already gone. And I had no intention of returning.

My CEO wife insists on taking a young, fresh intern under her wing. She wants to train him personally. She says to me, "Don't overthink this. I just value his potential." She's always been stern and stoic, but she starts dressing in pink and pulling her hair back in high ponytails. On our third wedding anniversary, she and the intern even willfully disappear for 48 hours. When others are searching for her like mad, she shares photos of her riding a carousel and holding cotton candy. She captions them, "I found the purest of joys in the most joyful of places—all because of you!" Our company loses a huge project because of this, and I lose my wife. I slip a divorce agreement between the pages of the intern's application to become a permanent staff member. My wife signs it without even looking and says, "Knowing what Elliot can do, he's more than capable of carrying out the role of a vice president." I calmly hand her my resignation. "You're right. That's why I'll make way for him."

They say that the deepest cuts come from the ones you hold closest to your heart. But I never expected my husband to be the one holding the knife while another woman twisted it in deeper.... My name is Ariana Carter. I am deeply in love with my husband Misha, and we have the perfect marriage. Scratch that, HAD the perfect marriage, or so I thought until he changed. His lies and betrayal broke me. Until I woke up. Now it's time for me to retake everything I lost--my life, my career, my family, and my dignity. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's start at the beginning, shall we?

The day my girlfriend’s condition worsened and she needed urgent surgery, I publicly called her a burden in front of everyone. Despite her pleas, I abandoned her cruelly. Seven years later, she became a formidable international tycoon and returned home with great fanfare. To exact her revenge on me, the heartless man, she poisoned my mother into silence and sent my father to prison. Eager to see me beg for mercy, she mobilized every connection to track me down. At this point, her parents could no longer bear to watch. With tears streaming down their faces, they revealed the entire truth. “He died seven years ago to donate his organs to you!”

My mate, Alpha Ryan, started skipping my healer's appointments after I got pregnant. He always blamed pack business. But I found him at the clinic anyway. He was with another pregnant she-wolf—his childhood friend, Bonnie. He held her with a tenderness he no longer gave me. "I'll take responsibility for this child," he promised her. "He'll be safe." His words shattered my world. Their child? I stormed in to confront them and saw it: his temporary mark on her neck. He swore the pup wasn't his. He claimed a rogue attacked her and the mark was only for protection. His lie was a knife twisting in our mate bond. I was carrying his pure-blooded heir. But he let the pack brand my child a bastard, while hailing her half-blood pup as his true heir. To protect Bonnie, he locked me in a silver-laced cell. The silver was a living death. He didn't realize his mistake until I took the forbidden herbs, sacrificing our child and collapsing in a pool of my own blood. Only then did he cradle my broken body, begging for a forgiveness I would never give.

My husband's first love jumped to her death due to depression and landed right on me as I was passing by. I was rendered unconscious on the spot and subsequently rushed to the ICU. However, my orthopedic surgeon husband stayed by his first love's side to comfort her over her minor scratches. He even refused to sign my Critical Care Notification. "Whoever joined her charade can get lost along with her! Come to me when she's really dead!" he said. It wasn't until he received a death certificate that he realized in horror—the deceased's information was identical to mine.

To help my surgeon husband with his erectile dysfunction, I made an appointment with an expert six months in advance. But as the day approached, Isiah Coleman canceled it without explanation. Just as I was about to call him to demand answers, I spotted a post from his female friend on her social media. My usually stoic husband was beaming as he wrapped his arms around her. The caption read: [Only I can cure your illness.] What struck me, though, was the telltale bulge in his pants in the photo—a reaction I'd never seen from him with me. With a cold laugh, I liked the post and left a comment: [What a miracle worker!] The post exploded, with everyone speculating whether I'd confront the mistress. But what awaited him after the holiday was our freshly printed divorce certificate.

Three days after I died, my fiancé got a call to ID the body. He just scoffed. "She's dead, so what? Call me when she's in the ground." The cops, out of options, hit up my backup contact—my childhood friend. He actually laughed. "She's really gone? Not my problem. Burn her or whatever." Then my body hit the internet— And suddenly, both of them looked like ghosts.