Winning The Week Novels & Stories

After years of being the perfect Luna, Alessia was betrayed by the one person she trusted most—her Alpha mate, Kael—who left her broken and bleeding at the edge of their territory. Now, with a strange new power coursing through her veins and the moon as her only witness, she's back for one thing: revenge

Reborn into a new life, the first thing I did was call off my marking ceremony with Alexander. I even handed the Luna Crown over to my younger sister, Lilith. I deliberately engineered every opportunity for them to be alone, quietly stepping out of their way. I did it because in our past life, we were husband and wife. Yet, when I was old, bedridden, and drawing my final breaths, he never visited me once. Instead, he spent every single day by Lilith's side. Only later did I discover that he had been sleeping with her behind my back. They had even had pups together. On my deathbed, he actually fell to his knees and begged me, with sickening devotion, to dissolve our bond so he could finally fulfill his "true love" with my sister. Now that I’ve been given a second chance, my only wish is to go somewhere he can never reach me.

I'm Bella, the Donna of the Vitoriano Famiglia. The thing is, no one thinks I'm worthy of this position. After all, I'm a former slave who has been rescued by Giorgio Vitoriano, the next Don in line, from an underground auction house. In order to repay him for his act of benevolence, I become the sharpest weapon of his arsenal. I pull off every task flawlessly, be it assassination, infiltration, or purging the family of unwelcome moles. I make it my life's mission to block every source of danger aimed at him, even if it means sacrificing myself. On the day Giorgio becomes the new Don, he places a family signet ring onto my palm. "Bella, I have a new mission for you that requires both of us to carry out for the rest of our lives. Will you do me the honor of accepting it?" Of course, I will. But Giorgio ends up bringing his adopted sister, Liliana Vitoriano, home one year into our marriage. I think it's my time to leave now.

When I married mafia don Paul Garcia, I was twenty-two, and he was thirty-two. By day, he was the cold, dangerous king of the underworld. By night, he was my daddy. Everyone in New Haven knew how much he loved me. I casually mentioned I disliked the ballerina competing with me for the principal role. The next day, she “accidentally” broke her leg and never returned to the stage. One night, I craved pasta from a specific restaurant. Without a word, he led his men into the kitchen, pressed a gun to the chef’s head, and forced him to recreate the dish overnight. I once joked about wanting to sleep among the clouds. He turned around, had the building of a rival family blown up, then bought the tallest one in the city and engraved my name on the top floor. However, in bed, he would exhaust me completely and refuse to let me go. Even when the doctor warned that I was in early pregnancy and needed restraint, he ignored my cries, tied my wrists with his tie, and went on until dawn. The next day, I started bleeding. I called him ninety-nine times, yet he rejected every single call. In my panic, I suddenly received a video from my best friend. “Emily, your don is pinning a woman down and kissing her at the bar of the Four Seasons in Moscovia.” When I opened the video, my heart stopped. The man was Paul, and the woman was my aunt. In that case, I’ll give him two gifts when he comes back: an abortion report and a divorce agreement.

When my husband, Alessandro, brought his widowed sister-in-law, Anna, back to our home in this life, I stopped putting up a fight. I decided to step aside and give them my blessing. Heck, I even made all their intimate moments possible. I handed over my promise necklace, wedding ring, and even the token of a Donna’s authority to Anna. In my previous life, Alessandro’s love and attention had gone to Anna even though he and I had been married for three decades. On my birthday, he was away, keeping her company at a doctor’s appointment. When I lay on my deathbed, he was busy watching the fireworks with her. Even our children resented me for taking Anna’s place. “A Don of the Colombo family can’t even be with the woman he loves. You have trapped Papa in this marriage. Mama, can’t you set Papa free?” By the time I opened my eyes, I was back to the year Alessandro moved Anna in. This time, I would walk away without looking back.

In the tenth year of being Don Vitelli’s sugar baby, the most reckless man alive was ready to change his ways for a good girl. On my twenty‑eighth birthday, he told me it would be our last time together and prepared an entire box of protection. I opened one of the wrappers and asked casually who that good girl was. Caino Vitelli leaned against the headboard and released a slow ring of smoke. “Your sister. I don’t even know how I fell for her. “That little fool can barely breathe after we kiss. She’s as pure as they come.” His tone sounded like a complaint, yet his eyes held a smile. The wrapper slipped from my hand. I stared at him, unable to move. Why her, of all people?

I had been married to Alexander for three years. Everyone feared his ruthlessness, but he had always been incredibly gentle with me. But ever since Elena took a bullet for him during a shootout six months ago, everything changed. He always said she got hurt saving him, so I had to be accommodating. At the family’s most prestigious gala, my husband—the Don, Alexander—arrived with his secretary, Elena, on his arm. Pinned to her chest was the ruby brooch that symbolized the position of the Donna of the family. "Elena took a bullet for me. She liked the brooch, so I let her borrow it for a while. Regardless, you are the only donna here. Try to show some class." I didn't argue with him. I just removed my wedding ring and pulled out the divorce papers: "Since she likes it so much, she can have it. Including this seat next to you. I'm giving that up, too." Alexander signed without hesitation, a cold smile on his face. "What kind of manipulative trick are you playing now? You're an orphan, separated from your family, you won't survive three days in Sicily. I'll wait for you to come back begging me." I took out an encrypted satellite phone I hadn't used in three years. Alexander didn't know that I was actually the youngest daughter of the oldest Mafia family in Europe. But my family and Alexander’s had always been enemies. To marry him, I had changed my name and even severed ties with my father and brothers. The call connected. I took a deep breath and whispered, "Papa, I regret it. Send someone to pick me up in two weeks."

At a class reunion, my husband, Sebastian Smith, played a "how well do we know each other" game with Hanna Rodgers, the prettiest girl in our class. They answered twenty questions correctly in a row. The room erupted with cheers, and everyone urged them to drink from the same glass. Tears filled my eyes when I saw the two of them blush. Another classmate gave me a side eye. "Why are you upset? He didn't even know you didn't like cilantro. They're a handsome couple and have secretly loved each other for years. They're destined to be together. Let me give you a piece of advice. Stop fawning over him. It's beneath you." I glanced at them and kept quiet. Were they destined to be together? But Sebastian and I had been secretly married for three years. I was going to announce our marriage to the group. But before I could, Sebastian turned around and drank with another woman. The cheers stopped, and Sebastian texted me. "Honey, don't be mad. I'm here for a business deal. It's all just for show. I will make our relationship public when I get the chance later." I smiled. He saw me and smiled too. But I no longer needed him to make anything public. I had had enough of this life of hiding.

In my fifth year of marriage to Dominic, I'd become the woman all of Chicago knew as the crazy one — the mental case. Jealousy gnawed at me constantly, and my temper frayed easily, my emotions sharp and unsteady, unravelling more with each passing day. So it only made sense when he slid a divorce agreement across the table. "Vivian's pregnant. A Harrington heir can't be born illegitimate, and Mrs. Harrington can't be a lunatic." "Once she's had the baby, I’ll marry you again, and you'll still be Mrs. Harrington." I was forced to sign my name, then locked away in a private sanatorium a hundred miles from the city. The first year, I waited with desperate hope for him to come take me home. Instead, he handed me an ultrasound report. "Twins — a boy and a girl. Vivian's pregnant again. Just wait a little longer." The second year, he had electric fencing installed around the sanatorium grounds. "Harrington Corp is going public. We can't afford any slip-ups right now." By the fifth year, he simply called to tell me to wait one more year. He must have expected me to scream and lose control the way I always did. But this time, I just nodded calmly. "Alright. However long it takes." After all. I didn't have much time left anyway.

After the murder of her parents. Maria was stripped of the beta title and rejected by Eric. Despised by her best friend and mate. Maria was nothing more than a slave and a punching bag of the pack in the week before her execution. She had no one and so she escaped from the pack two days before her execution to live among the humans. Would she ever go back, would the truth about the murders ever come to light?