Tragic Lovers Novels & Stories

Everyone thinks that I can only rely on my husband, Erico Vitale, to survive after I've lost my family's protection. So, when he wants to get a divorce, I can only agree to it. If he wants to remarry me, I'll accept his demands docilely. I'm the dog whom the Vitale family can beckon over and easily dismiss on a whim. But when I finally have had enough of this life, I dial the number that I've kept sealed away for a long time. That's when I hear Gian Lucenti tell me, "Nina, I'll marry you in ten days." Well, Erico, what will you do when I, the woman whom you've been treating as a pet this whole time, leave you once and for all?

I was the girl Ian Sutherland, the underworld boss himself, personally picked to be a shield for his beloved. By the third year of our marriage, I'd been kidnapped by his enemies for the eighth time. When Ian came with his men to rescue me, the negotiation hadn't even lasted five minutes before the girl called him. "Ian, I lost a dare and have to kiss one of the guys here. But I want my first kiss to be yours. Can you come get me?" … The moment Ian left without a second thought, a knife plunged into my abdomen, and blood gushed out. His men handled it the same way they had the last seven times—paying off whoever they had to, then sending me to the hospital. In the ambulance, I heard someone wondering if I'd live long enough to see the day that girl could stand on her own. They burst out laughing, while I was the only one crying. My mission to save the underworld boss had failed, and I was about to be erased by the system. Ian, I wouldn't live to see that day.

All because he believed I pushed Elena down the stairs out of jealousy. Six months ago, a rival family drugged Alexander. Elena saved him and got pregnant. Her family disowned her for it. "Ivy, why can't you just let her be?" Alexander choked me, disappointment and rage in his eyes. "She saved my life! I promised to send her away. Why be so vicious to an unborn child? If anything happens to them, I'll bury you with them." I didn't argue. I just planned an explosion. But when I vanished, the high-and-mighty Don went mad.

My childhood friend called, saying he was trapped in a fire. He wanted to hear my voice one last time, and I rushed to the scene as fast as I could. But in that small, blazing spot, there was only a cat. Stumbling, I got the cat out, but my arms got burned. A crowd gathered, pointing at me and laughing hysterically. "She actually went for it?" "What a simp, risking her life like that!" Safe and sound, Colin Porter stepped out of the crowd with a grin. He picked up the cat from my arms and handed it to his crush. "See? I told you the cat would be fine. When have I ever lied to you?" Turning back to me, he said, "The cat got spooked and ran into the fire. We didn't know what to do, so we called you. Thank you for your help." The people around us snickered, like they were watching a trained dog. Later, on my wedding day, my husband carried me to the car. Colin, dragging his burned, bloody legs, crawled on the ground. He begged, "I'm hurt, Selena! Come help me!"

To save Hugh, I took the hit—literally. The kidnappers beat me so bad I ended up with a brain hemorrhage. My mind? Stuck at thirteen. Hugh, all guilt and promises, said, "Wenna, I'll protect you forever." And he did. He watched over me. When the house caught fire, he threw himself over me, took the burns, didn't flinch. Then came his oh-so-perfect foster sister. "Mia's not into... slow people. Maybe you should live next door," he said. And my son? The one I nearly died bringing into the world? "Stupid woman! You embarrass me and Dad. You're nothing like Aunt Mia—she's smart and pretty. If it weren't for you, she could've been my mom. You should just die!" To play hero for Mia, my son shoved me into the street. A truck did the rest. When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day Hugh proposed. This time? I wasn't here for his pity. And I sure as hell wasn't marrying him.

The nights in Vicente were a coexistence of order and gunfire. Tonight was the wedding, ten years overdue, between Anthony Oliver, the don of the Oliver mafia family, and Mabel Samson, the woman who had stood beside him through bloodshed, betrayals, and underworld wars. A top-tier luxury hotel had been cleared by the family's soldati. Below them glittered a sea of city lights; above them bloomed fireworks commissioned for the future Donna alone. The man known for his ruthlessness knelt on one knee with a rare diamond ring, his eyes filled with rare tenderness. "Mabel," he said, "you walked through hell at my side. Let me give you peace for the rest of your life." It seemed that all the sacrifices and patience had finally led somewhere. However, just as Mabel's fingers were about to touch the ring, a piercing scream came from above. "Don't! Anthony! Save me!" That single cry drew all of Anthony's attention away. The girl was not unfamiliar to Mabel. Two years earlier, Anthony's twin brother had been tortured to death by a rival mafia family while covering his retreat. His body was never recovered. And Cheryl Reyes was the fiancée he had protected with his life. Mabel watched as the man she loved abandoned everything without hesitation and ran toward another woman. She stepped forward and tried to stop him. "Don't go. The wedding isn't over." However, when their eyes met, the Don accused her coldly of being heartless and selfish. And in that moment, Mabel felt tired. Perhaps it was time, just once, to choose herself over the Family.

Everyone in Moonveil Pack knew our Alpha, Eric, worshiped his Mate. When he loved, he went feral. To keep me—an infertile she-wolf—on the Luna throne, he once painted the Elder Council in blood. Stood in front of the whole pack and swore he hated pups. Said he'd end his own bloodline before he let me hurt. Yeah. That was his version of forever. Until my body changed. Then one day he walked into our territory holding a young she-wolf's hand—Velda—and built her a little love nest right next to our home. I asked for an explanation. "My pack needs an heir. You can't give me one." Velda smiled all sweet. The second he looked away, she flipped me off. "Zara, you're fat as a pig. What makes you think you can compete with me?" I looked at her young, perfect face and finally got it. Those vows? Not love. Just lust in a crown. I didn't cry. Didn't cause a scene. I called the witch through mind link. "Do it. Forcefully sever my mate bond with him." If he hated this body so much, then the thousandfold pain I'd held back for five years? Yeah. It was time to give it back.

“Help me fake my death and arrange a completely new identity.” “Donna,” the man was clearly shocked. “Why? The Don dotes on you. The whole of Sicily knows—” “That’s none of your business,” I interrupted him. “I’m leaving in five days.” Walking out of the black market, the LED screen in the square was still showing footage of my lavish wedding with Don Alexander three years ago, a ceremony that cost over $500 million. Everyone thought Don Alexander loved me deeply, and I thought so too. Until this afternoon, on our third wedding anniversary, I returned to Sicily early, hiding in the lounge of my husband—Don Alexander’s—office, wanting to surprise him. Instead, I saw his secretary hiding under his desk. While the underboss Marco was reporting the losses from the dock smuggling operation, Isabella was kneeling between Alexander’s legs, skillfully unbuttoning his trousers. Her head bobbed up and down. After Marco left, Isabella smiled seductively. “Could your Donna serve you like this during a meeting?” Alexander’s voice was filled with desire. His hands kneaded her breasts. “Sophia is too conventional, too boring. You’re much more exciting in bed, you little slut.” I covered my mouth, completely devastated. But when I actually left, the Don, who had found me boring, was the one who completely broke down.

When I was 18 years old, Luigi Conti, the craziest heir of the Conti family, pulled out a gun at an auction and executed the Don of the Serra family. That man happened to be my foster father, also the one who had me auctioned away as though I were a slave. When he was being dragged toward the armored car by the military police, he kept laughing like mad despite having blood streaking down his face. "Why must I atone for my sins? Since God refuses to save you, let me be your savior! From now on, no one in Sandalay has the guts to clip your wings anymore, my darling Isabella!" Seven years later, Luigi gets released from prison. He looks at me as I wash dishes for a living in the slums before snuffing out the cigar trapped between his fingers. That night, Luigi returns to his family and steals the position of the Don. After we get married, I'm the only person who has the highest access over the vaults under the Conti family. Luigi even forcibly expands the ring that signifies ultimate authority—which has been passed down from generation to generation for a century—and slides it onto my ring finger. He buys half of Sandalay's estates just so he can fill the vineyards with the white grapes I've mentioned in passing. He tells me that his turf is called Isabella. But everything changes when I discover a photo album stashed in a hidden compartment in Luigi's study. All 2,000 photos feature a young woman in a white dress who is reading in the library. That is the female assassin he's planning on training. The woman looks very pure and innocent. She's most suited to conquer certain bigwigs' hearts. But now, it seems that Luigi's the one being conquered by her. When Luigi finds out about my discovery, he throws the photo album into the fireplace and watches it burn in the fire with a stony expression. "I'm just repackaging her so that she can aid me in money laundering. Just pretend you never saw the photo album." I push the signed divorce agreement over to Luigi. "I said, sign the agreement." Frustrated, Luigi pins the divorce agreement on the table with a knife, his expression insanely dark. "Isabella Serra, have you forgotten about the Conti family's rules? There's no such thing as divorce. We can only be widowed."

I've spent a huge sum of money on a custom-fitted gown just so I can go on a date with my fiance, Vincenzo Rossi, on New Year's Eve. He's also known as the rising star of the mafia underworld. But Vincenzo sounds very impatient on the other end of the line. "Can you stop being so clingy, Grazia? I have an important business gathering to get to on New Year's Eve!" His younger sister, Valentina Rossi, adds, "My brother's doing this for the sake of your shared future, Grazia. Stop causing trouble for him, okay?" I end the call, feeling disappointed. After that, I console myself, saying that Vincenzo is working very hard for the sake of our future. But that illusion only lasts till the moment my friend sends a video clip to me. Vincenzo can be seen hugging a gorgeous woman in the clubhouse. They are in the middle of making out with each other. Valentina, on the other hand, leads her friends on as they cheer for the couple. It turns out that Vincenzo's "important business" is to spend the night with another woman. I drain my glass of the strong alcohol. Scorching pain flares from my stomach immediately. Since Vincenzo can find himself a woman to toy with, then why can't I do the same? I swipe a finger across my phone and dial the number of the rival family's Don. "I want you to order the two most good-looking male escorts for me right now."