Smoke In Mirrors

I'd barely been welcomed back into the inner circle when the fake heir tried to pull me into his little crew. The other rich kids, of course, couldn't resist messing with me. They pushed me to smoke and drink, treating me like some obedient stooge. I was pissed—steam practically coming out of my ears. He, meanwhile, put on this innocent act and said, "Hey, go easy on my brother. He just moved back from the middle of nowhere and doesn't know how things work around here. I'll take this one for him." Everyone ate up his "loyalty," and just like that, my reputation as some clueless hick was sealed. That day, he was set on dragging me to another rich-kid party. I was about to put my foot down when, out of nowhere, the steward from one of the capital's old-money families showed up at our door. He said it was a special order from the lady's father—an extravagant gift. My parents' faces lit up instantly. They clapped the fake heir on the shoulder, practically glowing with pride. "Ryan, you've made us proud! Looks like Sophia's family is more than pleased with you. This engagement—well, it's as good as done!" Ryan straightened his tie with practiced charm, shooting me a smug, taunting look. But when I glanced at the label on the gift box, I couldn't help but laugh. Every new hire at Harrington Group gets the same welcome package. If the Chairman of Harrington Group knew someone was mistaking it for an engagement gift for his daughter, he'd be furious enough to lose sleep.

Two souls, one body. One was a feared assassin, and the other was a beautiful soul brought up and given everything she could ever want. Both were betrayed and killed by those around them on the same day and time. Fate, it seems, could only give one of them a second chance to make things right, a chance at vengeance for both lives.********* "What is this?" Aurelia asked her. "It's a note for a surprise that was prepared for you by your father. He said to hand it to you before the party. You should open it," Nella said. Aurelia smiled at her and tore it open. It was obviously typed in bold letters. SEE YOU AT THE ATTIC, DEAREST. Dearest? That's what her father always referred to her as. "I guess I should start going there," there," Aurelia said and left. The attic had been closed since the incident, and Aurelia had always wanted to go in there and see. It was only reasonable now that her father should let her see before getting married. She entered. "Dad?" She called out to him, but there was no answer. She went in further, and then she saw what was written on the wall. 'DIE BITCH! ' Just then, she heard from behind her as the door closed. Soon, something like a pipe was let in as smoke was being let inside the room. Aurelia ran to the door and started banging, but just then, the violinists started to play below along with other instrumentalists. She kept banging until she started to feel faint and slumped as she gasped for air. There were only a few who knew about her asthmatic condition. her father, her late mother, and Nella. Why would her father want her dead?****************** Read to know what happens next.

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.

Once I became pregnant, I was hailed as the most precious woman in the underworld. My husband, the new Don of the Jenkins family, shut down an entire private hospital wing for my check-ups, while my father, the Collins Don, summoned every Michelin-starred chef in New York to the estate, just so I could pick whatever I craved. The baby I carried was destined to be the sole heir of the two most powerful mafia families. But on the day we were to sign the papers securing my child's inheritance, they both vanished. "An urgent family matter came up," my husband, Vincent, said, kissing my forehead. "We can finalize the child's inheritance when we get back. There's no rush." Shortly after they left, I received a link to an anonymous live stream. My father's voice came from the video, colder than I had ever heard it. "You're saying your marriage contract with Evangeline was never valid. Doesn't that make the child a bastard?" Vincent, lounging in a club, blew a smoke ring. Cradled in his arms was my half sister, Sarah. "Evangeline has always had all the love and affection. Her child will want for nothing." "Sarah has been mocked for her status for years. I have to make things right for her, give our child a legitimate name." In that moment, my heart seized, and I could barely breathe. Then my phone vibrated again. It was a text message: "Welcome home to the Gallo family, my queen." "Just give the word, and the child you carry will bear the Gallo name and become the most powerful heir in the American underworld."

My daughter, Elise Dolton, got sick, so I rushed over to take care of her. The moment I stepped inside, a rotten stench hit me right in the face, so I offered to help clean the place up. Her roommates' faces dropped right away. "What smell, Mrs. Dolton? The place is fine." "If you think it's such a dump, then have Elise move out. Don't come in here acting like you're better than all of us. We're not putting up with that!" Even Elise shoved me impatiently. "If you’re here to visit, then just act like it. Stop making a scene and embarrassing me, okay?” They were all college roommates, splitting rent on a run-down unit in an old complex. When I went in, I noticed them gathered around a pot of spicy stew. The room was thick with steam and smoke, but it still couldn't cover that awful stench. Strangely, none of them seemed to notice it. Had something gone wrong with my sense of smell? That night, the smell was so overwhelming that I couldn't fall asleep. In the end, I realized the odor was coming from Elise herself. I hurried her into the bathroom and scrubbed her down over and over, but the smell didn't fade at all. It stayed just as strong. With no other option, I called a cleaner, planning to disinfect the entire place inside and out. But Elise's roommates felt offended and started arguing with me. In the chaos, someone shoved me. My temple slammed into the sharp corner of the coffee table, and I died on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment I first walked through the door. The stench rushed at me all over again...

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 the chaos-hungry loa Marinette, vows to break Dru. Their only allies? The Lou Nwa, a bayou biker gang trading in bullets and black magic, and Papa Legba, the crossroads spirit who offers Dru a lethal bargain: *“Her soul or yours.”* Fleeing through the Deep South’s cursed underbelly, they dodge cartel hitmen, haunted swamps, and safehouses reeking of betrayal. Dark magic seeps into old wounds; family secrets tighten like nooses. Dragon swears he’s too ruined to love. Dru knows she’s too shattered to trust. But in the bayou’s choking heat, desire is a grenade they can’t outrun. This isn’t a fairytale. It’s switchblade kisses and saintly curses—a collision of fire and ruin where protectors become predators. Dru doesn’t need saving; she needs an inferno. And Dragon? He’s got a lighter and nothing left to burn. Will they raze the South to ashes, or become the sacrifice the crossroads demands? One truth remains: in the bayou, even survival leaves scars. **Warning:** No princes here. Just bayou smoke, blood-soaked magic, and the kind of love that devours.

“I, Alpha Arthur Grant, reject you, Phineas Wells. You were never my mate; you were just a placeholder for a King.” The words didn't just break Phineas’s heart; they shattered his soul. Standing in the center of the pack gala, clutching a hidden sonogram in his pocket, Phineas watched as his husband of three years handed him divorce papers in front of the very people he had served, healed, and protected. Behind Arthur stood Phineas’s own younger brother, Clement, wearing a smug smile of betrayal. They didn't just want Phineas gone—they wanted him erased. Thrown into the freezing rain of the Dead Lands, pregnant and broken, Phineas expects to die. Instead, he finds a nightmare far more seductive. Enter Lucian Aurelius. A Mafia Kingpin with a wolf of pure shadow and a heart of ice. He doesn’t offer Phineas love; he offers a cage of gold and a contract written in blood. Lucian is the ultimate Black Flag—possessive, obsessive, and dangerous. He monitors Phineas’s heartbeat, tracks his every breath, and whispers terrifying promises of protection that feel exactly like imprisonment. But as Phineas’s life is reduced to a "Scattered and Shattered" mess, the "Sunshine" Omega dies, and something colder is born in the dark. While Arthur’s pack begins to crumble and Lucian’s obsession turns into a lethal addiction, Phineas stops crying. He begins to watch. He begins to learn. He realizes that a monster’s greatest weakness is the thing he claims to own. In a world of fated mates and brutal betrayals, Phineas will play the "Helpless Omega" one last time. He will make them crawl. He will make them bleed. And when the smoke clears, the two Alphas who broke him will realize the terrifying truth:

Parting his lips, Jordan placed the burning cigarette on his mouth and stood up from his seat before walking towards his shelves containing all his important documents related business, but soon there a light tug on his arm stopped his actions. It was her, he knew it cause no one other than her had the audacity to enter and exit his cabin without his permission. His wife, Hattiea. Or maybe the woman pretending to be his wife? Jordan's dark eyes landed on the culprit immediately with darkness but as soon as he found her behind him close to him... He got lost for a moment or so... The proximity rose slight tension between them. Raising her fingers up, Hattiea pulled the burning cigarette out from his mouth which was still resting on his lips. Her delicate fingers brushed his chin and lips softly. Following by the smoke, he released his minty breath in slight awe, her breath taking face was so close to his face. They both never came so close to one another actually. Even though it had been quite of time getting married with one another, they minded their boundaries well. As it was not any marriage of love for them but a marriage full of compromises. Hattiea's eyes soon travelled up from his lips back to his eyes, which were still staring at her ditching their shame. "It's dangerous for your health." Hattiea exclaimed hinting his smoking habit, while looking right into his eyes. Her hazel eyes were blank yet they held millions of emotions. "So are you!" Jordan's smoky breath caressed her face. The deepness of his voice solely made Hattiea's heart race million times faster. It was true... she was dangerous for him. Way too dangerous to handle.

In the kingdom of Drakemont, silence hits harder than any blade sometimes. Selene is this mute servant girl, cursed to stay hidden in the shadows her whole life. She has always known how to survive without anyone noticing her. But then one night changes everything. A single glance from King Aurek, the ruthless Alpha King, breaks down those walls she built around her secret. His wolf wakes up inside him. It claims her as his mate, something she can never let happen. Destiny bites deep, though. The queen-in-waiting, this witch named Veyra, will do anything to lock down Aurek's throne. Selene turns into the target right away. Her only real ally is Maris, an old childhood friend. But that loyalty has some serious weak spots in it. The court is full of whispers that cut like daggers. Alliances shift around like smoke in the wind. Selene has to figure out if she runs from the king's shadow. Or if she steps right into it completely. The more she gets pulled into Aurek's world, the more secrets she finds out about. There are his cursed brothers, the ones who shift between man and beast all the time. A prophecy talks about a silent queen coming along. And a betrayal that is so close to home, it might stab her heart before any enemy even gets near. Selene and Aurek are stuck between love and just trying to stay alive. They have to untangle all the lies holding them together. Otherwise, the witch's crown gets made from their blood. In a realm run by wolves, where silence covers up the worst truths, The Alpha King's Shadow tells a haunting story. It is about forbidden love. Dark magic pulls at everything. And a fate that just will not let go.

On the day my dad, the Don of the Capone family, comes to the orphanage to take me home, I show up in a tactical helmet and a bulletproof vest. "I'm not going home with you. You're definitely doing this to trick me into getting married to a perverted old geezer in a marriage alliance. I bet my adopted sister has made preparations to start fake-crying anytime by loading up on her eyedrops." My dad is amused, to say the least. "Why would any of that happen? Silvia is nothing but welcoming you to our home! Also, our family isn't a lowly organization that deals with human trafficking." But I refuse to believe my dad at all. On the way home, I keep typing something on my phone. My mom, the Donna, leans over curiously. "Are you writing a diary entry?" "Nope. I'm writing tips on 'How to Survive the Mafia.'" 1) My food will definitely be poisoned. 2) If I get close to a staircase, I'll definitely get pushed down the stairs. 3) I'll get framed for something that I've never done before. My parents swear to me that none of the things I've written will ever happen. They tell me that my adopted sister, Silvia Capone, has a great personality, and things are amicable in the family. However, everything changes when Silvia brings me a glass of juice before lunchtime and insists on watching me drink it. Instead, I dump the juice into a nearby vase of flowers. Just as my parents are about to scold me for wasting the juice, smoke begins drifting from the flowers inside the vase. Then, they start wilting rapidly. I calmly leave a bright red checkmark behind the "poison" tip. As my parents stare at the dead flowers, they can feel color draining from their faces. "You should send the juice to a chem lab for analysis."