The Last Thing He Told Me Amazon

I was chosen to be the fiancée of Lorenzo, the Mafia’s heir. But at a family gala, Lorenzo was openly pursued by Chiara, the daughter of an arms dealer. Chiara wasn’t like the other rule-abiding debutantes.She tore through the streets in a modified sports car, used a military-grade combat knife to cut her cigars, and drank the harshest whiskey neat.There was an untamed wildness about her, a fire Lorenzo couldn’t look away from. He complained to the family elders, “How can a woman like that possibly be our Madre and run this entire family?” His words dripped with disdain for her recklessness, yet his eyes were glued to her, tracking her every move as she raised her glass. Then, on Lorenzo’s birthday, he announced his intention to make Chiara his mistress. Chiara refused.”The women of my family are wives, never mistresses.And my husband’s heart must belong only to me.” Lorenzo came to me, his voice hesitant.”Alessia, it’s just a title.I need you to give it to Chiara.Please? She doesn’t understand our family’s traditions, and she’s making a scene about marrying me.We just need to pacify her for now.Even if she marries me, you will still be the one to manage the family’s affairs.” As I stood trying on my wedding gown, a sharp crystal bead on the bodice pierced my finger.A single drop of blood bloomed against the pure white satin. The dress was ruined, but the wedding would go on. Since he chose someone else to be his wife, I will become his Madre.

My husband's brother dies before my husband and I marry. My mother-in-law has never liked me, and my husband is a mommy's boy. He listens to her when she forces him to remain in mourning for his brother—within the next three years, we can only register our marriage but not have a wedding. To help his widowed sister-in-law past these difficult times, my husband runs over to her place every few days, leaving me alone at home. Anyone who isn't in the know would think I'm the widow! My scheming sister-in-law even tells her child to address my husband as their father instead of uncle. I sneer. "How shameless of you to want your brother-in-law to care for two families at once. Thank goodness the child in my womb doesn't have such a disgusting father."

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“Is it really impossible for you to love me? Even a little?” I sounded desperate. His lips curled into a mocking grin. “Love you? Don’t be ridiculous. I would never love a desperate woman like you. Amanda’s my everything. And you? You are nothing.” *** Angel Elowyn Montero and Gideon Elwood were once good friends until marriage ruined everything they had. To Gideon, she was the reason his life was ruined and the reason the woman he loved never returned. Their marriage was loveless and detached. Despite everything, she held on to the hope that he would eventually love her too. His family, except for his parents, despised Angel as well. In the mansion, she was treated worse than a servant by his siblings, who bossed her around and even hurt her physically. Until one day, she finally had enough. She grew tired of hoping for a love that would never be reciprocated. So, when her husband handed her divorce papers again, she did not think twice and signed them. Only after she was gone did Gideon realize his own feelings. He loved her far more than he had ever allowed himself to admit. But by then, it was too late. He no longer knew where his ex-wife was. Years later, she returned. Angel was no longer the fragile woman who endured everything for the sake of love. She came back as someone entirely different: fierce, bold, independent. Now, the tables had finally turned. He loved her, and he was determined to win her back.

My boyfriend, Jacob Torrance, claimed he hated being touched. Five years together, and all I got were stiff hand-holds and the rare side-hug. Even in bed, he kept his distance. I figured he was just emotionally shut off. Then he dropped this: he wanted a kid—with his mentor's daughter. "Take it as a sperm donation," he said. "Dr. Lynn asked me before he died. Wendy's got no one else." I smiled. "You don't have to explain. I support you." When you're over someone, there's no point fighting about what's right or wrong.

Anna Whitmore dated Lucas Caldwell, a young heir from New York’s old-money circle, for three years. When the time was right, she decided to reveal who she truly was and formally proposed a strategic marriage. On the day she planned to propose, he made an excuse and walked away. That same night, he was seen at a nightclub, arms wrapped around another woman, openly mocking the idea of marrying someone “without status or value.” Anna saw his true face and walked away for good. If marriage in their world had always been a transaction, then choosing a man with greater power and influence was only fair. So she married his uncle. Later, on the day Lucas Caldwell announced his engagement to the daughter her father chose to acknowledge, he saw her at the banquet. The so-called “unfavored” Whitmore heiress. His former girlfriend. She stood beside his uncle under the spotlight, smiling— calm, radiant, untouchable. The man next to her was the one who truly controlled New York’s upper circle, a level of power Lucas Caldwell would never reach. His uncle spoke lightly, and the entire room fell silent. “She is my wife.”

When my mother first told me about the arranged marriage, Noah Parker lowered his head and kissed me, pulling me closer as we became tangled together. After a haze of passion, he carried me into the bathroom. Warm water streamed over my skin, but his words sent a chill straight through me, as if I'd fallen into an icy pit. "Go home. And don't come looking for me here again." I thought he'd seen the text and was jealous, so I quickly clung to him and swore, "I won't marry anyone else—" His smile stayed, but the heat in his eyes cooled into something distant. "But I'm getting married." He brushed back my messy hair, ignoring how my body trembled under his touch. "My fiancée is gentle and kind—nothing like you. She’d never throw herself at her foster brother like that. We've already set a date. If you keep clinging to me like this, she'll be upset with me."

The men of his Pack never live past thirty. Only a union with my bloodline can break the curse. But on the day of our mating ceremony, he tore up our bond in front of everyone— just for his precious lover. In front of the entire Pack, he looked at me with nothing but disgust. “Elara, you’re nothing but a parasite. Your kind has been using black magic to deceive my Pack for generations. That ends with me.” His lover clung to his arm and laughed softly. “Why are you still standing here? Get out.” “With my knowledge, I can keep him alive far beyond thirty.” I looked at him. At the life-force already collapsing beneath his skin. A quiet laugh slipped from my throat. Fine. On his thirtieth birthday— we’ll see who’s right. Very soon.

Nyla Leclair has spent her life putting others first, including marrying Evans Morgan to save her family from ruin. She never imagined the price she would pay for duty was her life. When she discovers she is pregnant, hope finally blooms, until Evans coldly reveals he wants an open marriage, and he had been secretly screwing her best friend. Betrayed by the one she trusted most and pushed over the cliff by her childhood best friend, Nyla’s life nearly ends that night, only to be saved by Kael Arden, a mysterious billionaire who refuses to let her fall. Now awake and determined, Nyla is no longer the woman they could control. With Kael by her side, she begins to reclaim her life, plotting a revenge that is precise, merciless, and impossible to ignore. Those who tried to destroy her will soon understand that the woman they underestimated has risen stronger, smarter, and more fearless than they ever imagined.

I can’t tell if we’re at war… or dancing around something far more dangerous. Getting traded to the Montreal Bears should’ve been a dream come true, the team I grew up idolizing, the jersey I always wanted to wear. Except there’s one problem. Luca Moretti. The NHL’s notorious bad boy. My new right wing. And the one man who’s made it his mission to outshine me at every turn. Too bad for him I’m faster, sharper, and my numbers don’t lie. Not that I’m competing. I’d never sink to his level. He’s reckless, infuriating, and impossible to ignore a storm of chaos that throws me completely off balance. When we’re not clashing on the ice, he pushes my buttons with teasing nicknames like Princess, Pretty Boy, and Babygirl. I hate it. I swear I do. So why does my body react like I don’t? Contain Explicit Content