Swapped

"Do you always get this angry when others play with your dolls?" "No, just when it comes to you. You're my favorite doll." * Cara Morelli gets the heartbreak of her life when she finds out that her boyfriend is a recruiter for an illegal sex club, but that is after he abducts and dumps her there. As fiery as she is stubborn, she won't go down easily. After maiming, and nearly killing a client- on purpose- she is punished; murdered. But by some stroke of providence, she reincarnates inside the body of a woman known as Agent Thirteen, who belonged to an elite team of female assassins. And the Boss? A ruthless mafia Don widely known as Leone "the devil" Andreotti. It takes Cara a while to get used to the fact that prior to the time when she swapped bodies with Agent Thirteen, the assassin had signed her freedom off to Leone as part of the contract to be his assassin... to be used to kill targets until she scored him a hundred kills. But now, Leone wants more than a hundred kills from Cara... Ever since she blatantly disrespected him. And now that she is a trained assassin, is this the answer to her long-standing quest for revenge against her betraying boyfriend and the club, or will it embroil her deeper in a deadly obsession with the most dangerous man in the city? You're right. It's both. * "I'm tired. Fucking kill me already." "No, I want to wear you out. That's the only way I'll enjoy it. I have preferences, Angel." * "If you run, he will chase you." "If I don't, he will kill me." "Will he?" The look she gives me is knowing. I roll my eyes. "Of course he will." Right?

On the day of her wedding Miriam thought she was going to marry the man of her dreams, her childhood sweetheart and lover only to find out that he had sold her off to the most dangerous Russian in Las Vegas as his bride. Her parents were in support of the swapped grooms as they wanted their second daughter to marry Miriam's lover instead. Thrown into the hands of an intimidating man, Miriam believed that she would never be loved by him. However, to her surprise, her dangerous Mafia husband is actually a doting man. He sweeps her off her feet, showers her with love and fights against those who come in her way including her family. But then, being the bride of a Don comes with exclusive responsibilities and bold steps to survive in his world of crime and danger.

Elena had once believed that silence could mean safety. That a gentle hand and a warm cup of tea placed quietly on her desk every morning could be a form of love. Lucien was never cruel—not in the obvious ways. He remembered how she liked her eggs, noticed when she swapped her perfume, and sent flowers on days he knew she wouldn’t expect them. He raised her like one would raise a pet—softly, without question. And Elena, foolish in the way only the very lonely can be, mistook his quiet affection for devotion. She told herself he was reserved. Mysterious. That love didn’t always wear its heart on its sleeve. But when the old flame returned—the one who spoke his language without needing to try—Elena saw it. The difference. He looked at her like a man who had found his lost religion. And Elena? She had simply been convenient. No tears, no scene. Just papers on the breakfast table, beside the eggs he cooked perfectly. She didn’t accuse or beg. She only asked for freedom. He didn’t sign. He chuckled. A soft, dismissive sound. “A cat raised indoors doesn’t know how to survive on the street, Elena. You’ll come back." But she didn’t. She disappeared, like smoke—except she didn’t vanish, not really. She lived. She wore colour again. Laughed at bad jokes. Let strange men hand her coffee and ask for her number. Lucien? He watched. He watched her become someone without him. And it drove him mad. The night he cornered her outside the gallery, rain in his hair and desperation in his eyes, he looked like a man undone. "Elena," he breathed, "please. Look at me. Just once." She did. Calm as ever, and her love already gone.