Novel & Cerita Tony Stark Anxiety Attack

At the Mercer family's annual dinner, I accidentally wore a couture gown that belonged to Lucian's late wife. The eight-year-old boy I had raised myself, in front of every key member of the Family, threw a glass of expensive red wine all over my pure white dress. He just stood there, his cold, condescending expression a mirror of his father's. "Don't think you can become the mistress of this house just by dressing like my Mamma." "I swear, when I'm old enough to take over the family business, I'll make you disappear for good!" The cold liquid soaked through the fabric, clinging to my skin. But I felt nothing. My heart had frozen solid the moment I signed my life away eight years ago. I looked at the child I had raised as my own for eight years. There was no anger. The faintest smile touched my lips. I leaned down and whispered in his ear, "You won't have to wait that long, my little lion. I'm leaving, and it will be very soon."

My best friend is bound to a trade system—she can force a swap with me three times. At 13, she takes my heart. At 18, she takes my SAT scores. And now, for the final swap, she wants my entire identity. I hide under the covers, unable to hold back a laugh. My villa is rented, and my family background is totally fake. Go ahead, bestie. Swap away! This time, I really hope you don't hold back.

My fiancé stood me up at our rehearsal dinner at the Sterling family estate. Just before midnight, I got a message from Miles. Kate's pregnant. It's not my kid. But I have to marry her. The kid needs the Sterling name to be seen as legitimate. Our wedding is off for the next three years. We have to keep our distance until then. You need to handle the Alliance elders. Whatever you do, protect Kate from them. Tell everyone you're the one who called it off. I stared at the screen and typed back a single word. Fine. I was done with him. I never wanted to marry him in the first place.

I was setting up a weekend shopping list on the tablet my husband had just replaced for our home system. A notification popped up. He had forgotten to log out of a shared, encrypted family calendar— one I didn’t recognize. There was only one unfamiliar profile photo. I tapped it. A list titled “My Little Princess – Personal Notes” filled the screen. My Little Princess doesn’t drink alcohol—only mineral water or herbal tea. No late nights. She needs absolute quiet to sleep. She gets anxious easily—keep fresh white lilies in the house and her favorite vanilla chocolates on hand. I scrolled slowly, my expression unreadable. The final entry was bolded. Highlighted. “Next Wednesday: take my Little Princess to choose her wedding crown.” I closed the screen. Then I picked up my phone and called my husband. “Love,” I said gently. “Does your Little Princess prefer a classic European bridal crown… or something more traditional? I thought I could help you choose.”

I was bleeding out in a corner after a hit from a rival family. My husband, Dante—the Torrino family’s underboss—was in his car, holding his best friend's little sister. He gave me one cold look and said, "Leave her. She's a nobody." Later, after someone else saved me, I walked home, soaked in my own blood. I found Dante cradling Seraphina, fussing over her. All she had was a scraped knee. The blood covering my clothes? He didn't even see it. I just watched. Said nothing. Then I pulled out my phone and called my mother. "Mom, I need to come home."

Back home in Sicily, there’s a rule. If I’m not married by 30, I go back for an arranged marriage. When I told my boyfriend, Jax, he scoffed. "What century is your hometown stuck in? The Middle Ages? Arranged marriages? Alessia, I said I'd marry you. Stop trying to force my hand with this pathetic drama." He casually pulled out a pigeon-blood ruby ring and tossed it to his personal assistant, Bianca. She caught it, blushing. "I was going to propose tonight. But since you’re so desperate, I think we both need to cool off." The ring I’d waited years for. He just threw it to someone else. My heart froze over. Jax walked out of my office with a conqueror's smirk. Bianca pushed the ring toward me. I didn't even look at it. "Take it. It’s your size, isn't it?" The color drained from her face. I shoved her out the door. Right before I slammed it shut, I said, "Tell your boss we're done." He didn't know the "elders" forcing me into this marriage were led by the most ruthless Godfather in Sicily. And the "blind date" was an arranged union with the Don of the North American Five Families.

On the day of our mating ceremony, my Alpha, Silas, ripped the Luna gown right off my body. He dressed Jenna, his childhood sweetheart, in it. Right in front of the entire pack. I froze. Silas’s voice echoed in my mind. "I know this hurts, Caliana. But Jenna is pregnant. If I don't pretend to mate with her today, the elders will execute her pup!" He begged me to wait one year. Just until her pup was accepted by the pack. He swore he would come back for me. His true fated mate. Everyone thought I would wait. I was the Omega healer who had loved him for seven years. The girl who never left his side. But that night, Silas marked her. Our fated bond shattered into a million pieces. And then I met him. My true second chance mate: Zane, the Alpha Chairman of the Werewolf Alliance. Three years later, I returned with my new mate. We were there to assess Silas's pack. To decide if they were still worthy of the moonstone mines. Zane was called away on urgent business, leaving me in the local Alpha’s care. The local Alpha. Silas. I never thought I’d see that face again. He sneered at me, calling me a rogue. He wrapped his arm around a stunning Jenna. "Your little tantrum is over," he told me, his voice dripping with condescension. "If you want to come back, I suppose I can find a place for you. Jenna needs someone to heal her pet dog. You might be good enough for that."

I was the Falcone family's top consigliere. Their brain. And today, I was walking away—handing over the books to every legitimate business I ran, severing my final tie. My protégé couldn't understand. "You're the future of this family, Aurelia. You can't just leave." I shook my head with a bitter smile. They didn't know. I'd been secretly married to the Don, Vittorio Falcone, for three years. I thought my looks, my mind, and everything I gave him would be enough to win all of his love. A hit at the docks three months ago showed me the truth. I took thirteen bullets. Emergency. I needed the family surgeon—which required Vittorio's direct order. I called him over a dozen times. But when he finally answered, all I heard was a soft, breathless voice on his end. "Vittorio, we haven't cut my birthday cake. Will you hold my hand and cut it with me?" That voice. My best friend. The woman Vittorio once had a crush on. Carina. In the safe house, weak from blood loss, I dug the bullet out myself and had one of my men rush me to a family clinic. Right before they wheeled me into the OR, Vittorio burst in—carrying Carina. Twisted ankle. Needed a doctor. Now. My surgeon was dragged away. The antibiotics came too late. The wound got infected. I fought for my life for a week. When I woke up, I stared at my phone. Not a single message. The tears finally came. I understood. I was just the woman he'd been forced to marry after he was drugged and slept with me. A scandal averted. All he cared about was my value and his reputation. And me? The secret princess of the Rossi family, who gave up everything to build his empire. All for nothing. So I prepared four parting gifts. A celebration of our mutual destruction. Then he'd never see me again.

I've waited five years for my mafia fiance, Daniele Moretti, while he keeps pushing our wedding back again and again. I've turned down every man who approaches me and put up with all the snide comments from high society. On the eve of exchanging our marriage alliance contract, thanks to a bet with his lover, Daniele decides it's hilarious to switch the groom's name. He replaces himself with his uncle, Samuele Moretti, a man who is practically on his deathbed. Daniele laughs as he brags to his friends, "Regina's obsessed with me. When she finds out, she'll cry and beg me to change it back." I stand just outside the door and hear every word. On the day of the wedding, I take Samuele's arm—the "sickly wreck" Daniele keeps mocking—and walk him up the aisle. When Daniele finally shows up late with his lover and tries to turn the ceremony into a spectacle, I slap him across the face. Now he's the one who has to call me Aunt Regina.

My Don husband, just to indulge his little mistress's fantasy of playing Don's wife, pretended to have lost his memory at sea and tried to push me out of the family. By chance, I overheard his mistress teasing him: "Can I borrow Don's wife for a few days? And… Can I borrow the Don too?" My husband, all smiles and indulgence, replied, "Of course. Both are yours for a few days." I froze for a moment, then turned away, pretending it did not bother me. The next day, at the family meeting, he announced that his mistress was then his wife, ordered me out of the family business, and demanded I hand over every ounce of authority I held. The elders all turned to me, silently hoping I would defy his ridiculous decree. I said nothing. I handed over the keys and authority without a word. However, he did not know that our next arms deal was just nine days away, and the other party was Amestia's most powerful mafia, the Romano family. They dealt with no one but me.