The Vanished Novels & Stories

I'm married to Don Vincenzo Corleone of the Corleone family for five years. During those years, I'm the Donna whom everyone is envious of. But only I know that his love doesn't belong to me anymore. Vincenzo no longer takes me to core family gatherings. Our home is filled with photos of him and his childhood sweetheart, Lina Villo. At the banquet, Lina, who has won an award with the recipe she has stolen from me, nuzzles against Vincenzo's chest while receiving everyone's congratulatory wishes. Meanwhile, I get berated by the same man in public. Even when I get kidnapped, Vincenzo chooses to not save me just because he wants to take care of Lina. I've given Vincenzo five years of my love, only to end up with nothing good. So, I delete all of his contact information and board the ship meant for Castelloro. Vincenzo, I'm not going to pine for the genuine love and respect you owe me anymore. Let's not see each other again for the rest of our lives. We don't owe each other anything anymore.

On the seventh year since Winter Lidell's father was diagnosed with a deadly heart disease, he's finally eligible for a suitable heart meant for the transplant procedure. On the night before the surgery, Winter's husband of seven years, Liam Jager, requests that she give the heart to his mistress, Regina Baile. Liam still looks tall and handsome as ever, but the cold and aloof expression on his face is something that Winter has never seen before. "Winnie." His voice is emotionless. "Regina's condition is deteriorating rapidly." Winter feels her heart sinking the moment she hears her nickname being uttered coldly. She takes half a step backward instinctively, feeling a premonition looming over her. "She needs a heart transplant." Liam's gaze is fixed on Winnie, his tone carrying a hint of absolute decisiveness. "Right. Now." Every word feels like a blade made of ice cutting into Winnie's heart, where hope is starting to flare. Winnie's voice quivers violently, her words coming out fragmented and broken. "What… are you talking about, Liam? My dad… My dad has been waiting for this heart for seven years!"

"Callum, why don't you spend more time with me?" As Callum Kilbourne's Beta, Lena Morrison keeps using sending documents to him as an excuse to badger him. Her voice is sickly sweet to the point I feel like puking. Thanks to my sharp sixth sense as a werewolf, I know immediately that Lena has feelings for Callum the first time she follows him into this house. At first, I thought even if this mate bond started from a mistake, at least my daughter, Mia Kilbourne's presence would serve as an anchor for both Callum and me. We'd at least make an effort to keep things peaceful on the surface. But when my five-year-old goes missing, I spend the whole night calling Callum on the phone. All I can hear is a cold, repetitive dial tone in return. The next day, Callum finally comes home, reeking of alcohol and carrying the faintest trace of an unfamiliar perfume. Suddenly, I feel exhausted. I don't even have the energy to fight with Callum anymore. A moment of silence later, I look up at him. "Let's break the bond, Callum." The Alpha, who's used to keeping everything under control at all times, suddenly glares at me with bloodshot eyes. He grabs me by the neck and pins me on the wall immediately, his claws soon tightening around my neck. "Break the bond, you say? What right do you even have to bring that up, Ayla Townsend?"

After I was reborn, the first thing I did was burn every photo of Vincent Corleone and me. Then I threw his engagement ring into the fireplace and deleted every voicemail where he swore I was the only woman he would ever love. Because in my last life, that love turned me into a joke. Vincent said he loved me, but after I gave up my place at a world-class institute for him, he took Lilian White to Europe instead. She was the orphan he felt guilty for. The fragile girl he said needed protection. I was Isabella Rossi, heiress to the Rossi crime family. So I was supposed to be strong. Strong enough to smile when he missed my birthday for her. Strong enough to stay quiet when she wore my mother’s necklace. Strong enough to survive the crash meant to kill me. For seven days, I lay in a hospital bed, conscious but unable to move, listening to him visit my room for two minutes before spending the rest of the day holding her hand. Before my heart stopped, I finally understood. Vincent would kill for me. But he would always choose her. When I opened my eyes again, I was back three months before I rejected the institute for him. This time, I did not cry. I did not ask him to choose. I accepted the offer, sold my assets, erased my name from his life, and waited for my birthday. The day Vincent planned to propose again was the day I disappeared. He could keep his guilt. He could keep his fragile little Lilian. I was done being the strong woman he never thought he had to save.

The healer told me I might not survive childbirth. I was eight months pregnant with Damian’s pup, and the cancer in my body was spreading faster than anyone expected. I walked out of the healer’s room with the report shaking in my hand, hoping my mate would finally come to one checkup with me. Instead, I saw him kneeling in front of another pregnant she-wolf. Lydia. His childhood love. She touched her stomach and whispered, “Damian, if Selene finds out you came with me, she’ll be hurt. She’s about to give birth too.” Damian kissed her belly and said, “She won’t find out. I’ve hidden it this long.” Then he added, “The pup you’re carrying is mine too. If Selene makes trouble, I’ll break the bond.” The report slipped from my fingers. For months, I had believed his lies. I thought he was only busy as the strongest Alpha. I thought he loved me, even if he kept missing my checkups. But he had never been too busy. He had simply chosen her. That night, when I started bleeding, Damian carried Lydia away for a minor burn and left me on the floor with our unborn pup. So I called the only wolf who could help me. A witch. “Break the mate-bond between Damian and me,” I whispered. And before Damian realized what he had lost, I took my newborn pup and disappeared.

On New Year's Eve, a message from my best friend, Lily Walton, popped up. [I rented a Maybach for our cats to go back to our hometown. A thousand per person. It has heating and surveillance. Isn't that a great deal?] I glanced at my banking app, where my mortgage had just been deducted. [Forget it. My Mochi isn't a princess. She can't afford such an expensive ride.] The next day, I got a selfie from her—hugging her pet cat inside a Maybach. [Chloe, it's such a shame you didn't come. The owner was nice enough to give me a ride home too.] On New Year's evening, right after I stepped through my front door, a frantic knock came at the door. My best friend's parents stood outside, panic written all over their faces. "Is Lily here? She hasn't come home at all. She said yesterday she was preparing a birthday gift for you and even took four thousand dollars from us." Before I could even recover from the shock, the police arrived. My best friend's last contact… was me.

The moment I decided to leave Vincent Graves, I did three things. First, I recalled the pregnancy report I had been about to forward to him and replaced it with a scheduled breakup message. Second, I called the bridal boutique and cancelled the custom order for my wedding dress. I had been measured three times for it. I had waited five months. I never wore it. I never would. Third, I called Dr. Helena Shaw and accepted the invitation I had turned down a week ago. An eight-year medical research program. Completely sealed. No contact with the outside world. Before he could spring the proposal he had been planning, I vanished from his life completely. He never noticed that while he let Cora take my place at the wedding rehearsal and stayed out all night, I was quietly erasing every trace of myself, step by step. I became exactly the wife Vincent always said he wanted: reasonable, gracious, unbothered. But after I was gone, he lost control and asked me, "Why aren't you angry? Don't you love me anymore?" I said nothing. I only remembered the flirtatious voice messages Cora had sent him, the ones I had heard from his phone. And I calmly dialed the number that would take me away.

For five years, I've been the perfect Luna in the eyes of Ian Stormfang, the Alpha of the Shadowmoon pack. But then, he starts favoring an Omega called Perla Blackwood and allows her to carve her name beside the silver moon tattoo over his heart. That tattoo had once been the mark of the vow he made with his soul to love me forever. The members of the pack mock me for being naive in love. They are all waiting to watch me lose control in hysterics. Perla even sends me a message, urging me to step aside. She writes, "Alpha Ian says he's bored of you. Even in bed, you only know two positions—front and back. I'm right, aren't I, my noble Luna?" I do not bother to reply at all. Instead, I send a message to the rogue at the border. I text, "Help me leave the pack and make sure Alpha Ian can never find me again."

My roommates have booked booth seats at the New Year Countdown Light Show at the price of five thousand dollars per ticket. Soon, they begin urging me to transfer them my share of the payment on the group chat. I just send them a screenshot of the remaining balance in my bank account. "You guys have fun. I'm still saving up for my college tuition fees." Everyone just spams me with laughing messages instead. One of my roommates, Zane Lawson, even uploads a screenshot of our conversation to his social media feed together with a caption that says, "The first step of ascending to the next tier in social hierarchy is to stay away from party poopers like this." But as soon as 12:00 am is over, my roommates send me a photo of the light show. "It's such a shame that you aren't here." I'm still confused by the photo when I receive a phone call from the counselor, who sounds very anxious over the phone. "Did you buy tickets for your roommates to the light show? The organizers claimed that they never checked in at the entrance! Now, they've gone missing!"

Three months after my fiancé disappeared, I saw him at the airport, his arm around a girl. He laughed smugly, "Thanks to my buddies, coming up with that plan. Otherwise, how would I get to spend every day with you? Won't go back until you're pregnant. Let that old ball-and-chain keep searching." I didn't rush over to confront him; I just watched them in complete silence. Back home, I wrapped my arms around his brother's neck and whispered bitterly, "Harry is gone, but your family needs an heir."