164 Book(s) Related to aria lilly

My name is Diana Hammington
A thousand years ago, my siblings and I had a happy life, one that was very short lived compared to the endless agony that came after.
Our father was a pirate and our mother was a witch, both had an insatiable greed for power and in their quest to command more authority, they got the very Hammington name Cursed

My siblings and I were condemned to an eternity of misery, struggling with powers neither of us understood
We roamed the earth for centuries and we became savageries giving in to the very cursed beast within us

We are the monsters children were taught to dread
We are the evil lurking in the shadows
We are broken, bloodthirsty, savage and wild beasts
We are The Hammingtons

In the course of our immortal life, we wandered round the world in search of the one thing that continuously evaded our grasp, happiness
Will we ever find what we seek? Or will we continue being victims to our own monstrosity........

"White wolf! Kill that monster!"
That roar stole my eighteenth birthday and shattered my world. My first shift should have been glory—blood turned blessing into shame. By dawn they'd branded me "cursed": cast out by my pack, abandoned by family, stripped of my nature. My father didn't defend me—he sent me to a forsaken island where wolfless outcasts were forged into weapons, forced to kill each other until only one could leave.
On that island I learned the darkest edges of humanity and how to bury terror in bone. Countless times I wanted to surrender—dive into the waves and never surface—but the accusing faces that haunted my dreams pushed me back toward something colder than survival: revenge. I escaped, and for three years I hid among humans, collecting secrets, learning to move like a shadow, sharpening patience into precision—becoming a blade.
Then, under a full moon, I touched a bleeding stranger—and my wolf returned with a violence that made me whole. Who was he? Why could he wake what I'd thought dead?
One thing I know: now is the time.
I have waited three years for this. I will make everyone who destroyed me pay—and take back everything that was stolen from me.

I was reborn on the eve of the arranged marriage, and the first thing Liana and I did was swap our marriage contracts.
In my past life, gentle Liana had married Kael, the cold and ruthless Alpha of the Wolf Clan.
But Kael always put the scheming daughter of his savior first, condemning my cousin to a lifetime of endless grievance and suffocating misery.
As for me, with my fiery temper, I’d been wed to a mediocre, weak Beta.
He spent every day complaining that I “wasn’t a woman at all”. Endless quarrels and the crushing burden of the family eventually led me to a tragic end—dying exhausted on the battlefield.
Now I opened my eyes again, staring at the fateful marriage contract on the nightstand. I clenched my fists and looked at my teary-eyed cousin.
“Tomorrow, you’ll marry that Beta. And as for that cold-blooded Alpha? I’ll take care of him.”

When I woke up again, the air was torn apart by the staccato crack of gunfire.
I had been reborn. I was four months pregnant—exactly when Luca’s "first love" had conspired with a rival syndicate to ambush our estate.

In my previous life, the moment the shooting started, I hadn't hesitated. I immediately dialed my husband, the Don of the family.

To protect the heir growing inside me, he had decisively dragged me out of the line of fire first.

But the price was steep. His beloved Isabella took a bullet straight to the heart in the chaos, dying instantly.

Afterward, with bloodshot eyes, he told me he didn't blame me. He even stepped away from the mafia empire, remaining at the estate to play the perfect husband, solely to ensure I had a safe delivery.

I believed him. Until the day I gave birth.

During the sacred baptism in the family chapel, he tore off his mask and personally sent both me and our infant son to hell.

In my final moments, I would never forget the look in his eyes—a hatred that burned down to the bone.

"If it weren't for you, she never would have died," he had said, his voice ice-cold as I lay in a pool of my own blood. "She bled out that day. You and this bastard will bleed twice as much today."

"How much longer are you going to drag this out?! "My husband, Julian, kicked the bathroom door open, violently snapping my lipstick in half. "I don't have time to waste on a psycho. Find your own way to the gala!"
He snatched the unlabeled bottle from the vanity, dry-swallowed two capsules, and slammed it back down before driving off.
When I arrived at the gala alone, his mother asked where he was.
"He'll be here later," I said with a perfect smile.
But I knew he would never make it.

At Holy Oak High, being the Top Flyer isn't just a crown.
It’s a ticket to the upper class.
Girls would pay any price to stand at the top of that pyramid.
But I didn't understand that the spotlight hid a man-eating abyss until I had to put on that blood-stained uniform.
Listen. Do you hear that scratching sound coming from inside the locker?

I have been tormented by a strange illness for ten years, with blood draws and surgeries being commonplace.
My mother always encouraged me, saying, "Nian Nian, bear with it a little longer. The pain will be over soon. Mom and Dad are doing this to save your life."
Hoping to be cured as soon as possible, I gritted my teeth and endured ten years of painful treatments, even if it meant living like a lab subject.
That was until I accidentally overheard my parents’ cruel conversation:
“Increase the blood draw even more. It doesn’t matter if she dies—she was only picked up to save Ying Ying. As long as she has a breath left, she owes it to us.”
At that moment, I finally understood: I was never sick at all.
The decade of daily treatments were nothing but a way to use me to extend the life of their biological daughter.

Carter and I have been together for five years. We never had actual sex.
During our most intimate moments, he would only ever slip a dark Violet Pearl deep inside of me. I honestly thought it was his way of cherishing me.
Until tonight.
I woke up totally naked to find a phone set up on the bed, its lens glaring right between my thighs, with a red "LIVE" icon blinking on the screen.
[The pearl matures Oct 31. Five years of cultivation!] the chat kept scrolling.
I checked the screen on my phone.
It’s October 30.

Since when is eating a snack before dinner a capital crime? All because of a bag of gummies, my parents beat the hell out of me, and a judge coldly sentenced me to death. I was absolutely convinced the candy was laced! It wasn't until moments before my execution that I accidentally found out the truth: my family... were never actually my family to begin with.

At my bedside, for what felt like the hundredth time,my family asked me nervously,“Are you still planning to look for Elias?”
I blinked in confusion, asking, “Who is Elias? Why would I look for him?”
And at that moment, the doctors declared me “recovered.”
I was finally allowed to leave the psychiatric clinic that had tormented me for more than a year.
They told me—that Elias never existed, that I had fallen into delusion, loving a man created by my imagination.
I understand that only by obeying them can I regain my freedom.

I just bought my daughter a ruby choker. But the moment I fastened it around her neck, my world came crashing down.
The shopkeeper called me a sick freak. My loving husband demanded an instant divorce. My best friend called me a monster.
Why? It’s just a piece of jewelry... right?

On a stormy night, an intruder broke into the estate and slashed my husband's throat.
I didn't call the police. Instead, I grabbed the bleach and scrubbed away every trace the killer left behind.
The next morning, my mother-in-law dug her nails into my arm. "Tell them! Who murdered my son?!"
"Lady Cordelia, if you saw anything, now is the time to speak." The police captain stepped closer, his voice hard.
I met his gaze without blinking. "The thunder was loud last night. I took my sleeping pills and heard absolutely nothing."

After my divorce, I fled to the unfamiliar streets of Seattle with my daughter. As a Black single mother, the crushing weight of surviving in a strange city nearly broke me.
That is, until David came along. A detective with the Major Crimes Unit, he became our safe haven, wrapping my daughter and me in his fierce, unwavering protection.
I thought I had finally made it through the darkness. I thought I was about to embrace a brand-new life.
Until our six-month anniversary. I showed up for our date full of joyful anticipation, only to accidentally witness him tenderly kissing a pregnant white woman.
With his two young children clustered right by his side...

It was my fourth time putting on a wedding dress.

To protect myself against my own parents, I hired a ten-man security detail.

I specifically chose the most isolated chapel in the suburbs.

Because at my first three weddings, they acted like absolute maniacs—destroying my rings and making me a complete laughingstock in front of everyone.

I just couldn't understand what kind of parents would do such a thing.

This time, I actually thought I could finally marry Liam in peace.

Until the bridal suite door was kicked open.

And my dad, once again, snatched my diamond ring away.

"Come see our wedding invitations!" I excitedly held up the document folder I'd grabbed from ,my fiancé, Lorenzo's study, showing it off to his men in his private safe house on the Upper East Side.

Lorenzo and I had been running ourselves ragged this month preparing for the wedding.

Lorenzo's guys raised their glasses, waiting to see our custom-designed invitations. I eagerly turned the folder upside down—

Marriage certificates, wedding photos, and a property transfer document came tumbling out onto the floor.

Dead silence.

"Oh, these aren't our invitations..." I was still grinning foolishly. "Must be the wrong folder."

"Let me see which lucky lady is about to become a happy bride."

I looked down at the wedding photo. A beautiful brunette woman in an elaborate white gown smiled from the center of the picture, looking so blissful, so content.

When my eyes shifted to the groom beside her, my world collapsed.

It was Lorenzo. He wore a perfect black tuxedo, but he was tenderly embracing a woman I'd never seen before.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, my Alpha husband missed the candlelit dinner for the seventh time.
He rushed off to rescue an Omega surrounded by vampires, leaving me alone in the villa.
That same night, a jarring photo spread through the pack.
Damien, covered in blood, held Rose tightly in his arms, his lips pressed against her forehead.
Everyone was waiting for me to be jealous, to rage.
But I didn’t scream or argue like I used to.
Instead, I poured out his favorite champagne, closed my eyes calmly, and prayed to the Moon Goddess.
“You once said I have a destined mate.”
“If he will make me strong and free me from this wretched marriage, let him come for me in seven days.”

As the tyrant ruling the underworld, Victor was ruthless and bloodthirsty, showing no mercy to anyone.

Women who tried to climb into his bed usually didn’t even get a whole corpse, yet I was the only one he kept by his side.

I’d taken a poisoned bullet for him, and nearly bled to death on the rotting floor of a safe house giving birth to his son.

He once kissed the bullet scar on my shoulder and promised me that when he sat on the godfather’s throne, I would be his only family matriarch.

But the moment he slipped on that black onyx ring symbolizing power, he carried another woman into the master bedroom of the manor.

I burst for the door, and he ordered his bodyguards to pin me outside, forcing me to listen to their sounds of passion all night long.

I banged on the door like a madwoman, so he slammed my paintbrush-wielding right hand in the heavy oak doorframe and crushed it mercilessly.

I finally caved when he threatened to cut off my mother’s hospital treatment.

On the second floor of this old Victorian house is a long hallway with a dark red rug. Six doors are evenly spaced along its walls.
We lived here peacefully for ten years.
Until last month, when my seven-year-old sister, Maeve, suddenly refused to set foot in it.
The adults dismissed it as a childish phobia.
Until late one night, hiding under the covers, she pressed her face to my ear and whispered:
"Don't count the doors."

The smell of antiseptic, the sharp sting of restraints biting into my flesh, and the pitying look on Silas's face as he stood by my hospital bed.
"Maeve, you're so sick. The baby is just a hallucination."
In my last life, consumed by despair and self-doubt, I threw myself off the roof of the psychiatric hospital.
But now, my eyes snapped open, my hands instinctively flying to protect my stomach.
My baby is still here!
I'm back—exactly one week before my child disappeared.

I am the most obedient lover by the side of Liam, the Alpha of the Blackwood Tribe.
I am also the only nameless stray in the entire tribe.
For five years, whenever Liam spent the night with other she-wolves, the next morning I would receive a large check or a deed to a house.
People in the tribe say I am a greedy leech.
That for money, I have thrown away the pride of a werewolf.
Even if Liam kissed another woman right in front of me, I would smile, straighten his collar, and then take the money he gave me.
Yes, I love money very much.
If they knew that this money was enough to buy the territories of three small packs, they would probably be green with envy.
As long as the money is good, betrayal doesn’t hurt that much.
Until today, when Liam brought back a pure-blooded white she-wolf.
He handed me a blank check, saying this would be the last payment he gave me.
My wolf spirit roared inside me.
It’s time for me to take the money, disappear, and return to being the queen I truly am.

This was Killian’s tenth time bringing a stray werewolf into our bedroom.
I didn’t growl like before, nor did I threaten her.
I picked up the old cloak from the floor and handed it to the girl trembling in the corner.
“Leave through the back door. The patrol just passed.”
The girl glanced at me fearfully, grabbed the cloak, and ran out.
Killian leaned against the headboard.
Bare-chested, a cigar in hand, his expression was full of arrogance.
“She’s just a newly matured stray werewolf. Don’t scare her.”
“Elira, you come from noble blood. You wouldn’t make a fuss about this.”
“Tonight is her first transformation. I need to be with her. I won’t be back.”
I lowered my head, hiding my golden eyes.
What Killian didn’t know was—
that stray girl was carrying the highly contagious and fatal Rotting Sickness.

When the pain started, my mother-in-law called me a monster, then drove off like a madwoman. My doctor slit his own throat in front of me. My husband locked me away "for my safety."
I thought they didn't want my baby. That they were horrified by the child I carried.
But I was wrong.
The thing growing inside me was never my child at all.

I was diagnosed with hemophilia when I was ten years old.
At first, my parents were terrified. They watched me closely, rushed me to the hospital over every bruise, every nosebleed. I was the fragile one—the child who needed saving.

Then years passed.
They got used to it.
They got tired.

By the time my twin sister was graduating and my family was finally breathing again, I was about to turn eighteen.
And that night, while everyone believed I’d be fine like always, I bled to death.

They call it an "alpha team," boasting about our million-dollar AI equipment. I thought I just had terrible luck at work—the scanner bruising my arm, the coffee maker intentionally scalding me. Trapped by a $500,000 resignation penalty, I must survive tonight’s overtime. But in the dark copy room, the shredder is... breathing.

"Knock on this door over the noise one more time, and you're dead!"
Calling the cops was useless, and I was too broke to move.
Driven practically insane, I recklessly tore open the black box from the dark web—the seller promised that if I just followed the instructions, it would "eliminate the noise at the source."
Less than half an hour later, the deafening rager upstairs completely stopped.
Three mornings later, a homicide detective pounded furiously on my door.
"The father and son upstairs are dead."

Since marrying into the Sterling family, I've been pregnant three times. Not one of them survived.

Every time the DNA test report arrived, my mother-in-law would drag me to the clinic for an abortion.

They said the fetus had genetic defects. But I secretly went to an outside hospital for tests, and the report clearly stated everything was normal.

After my third miscarriage, I followed my in-laws to the basement I was forbidden to enter.

I held my breath and pressed my eye to the crack in the door.

In that moment, I finally knew why they had to kill my babies.

I watched helplessly as my husband doted on his mistress and their child, while my own child was abused by a psychiatrist.
For years, I gave up my career, held the household together, endured his lies, and kept alive a marriage he had never truly valued.
He thought I would never leave, because once, I had loved him that deeply.
But I could not spend the rest of my life watching him fall in love with another woman.
The divorce papers are already on the table. This time, I won’t beg him to stay.
I choose myself.

By day, Nora Ellis is the efficient, sharp-tongued secretary to the elusive billionaire, David Reid. By night, she becomes Mistress Scarlet – the masked dominatrix who commands The Red Room.

Her two lives never touch.
Until the night her boss walks into her world as a new client.

David's no stranger to control: by day, he's the ruthless CEO with a hidden mafia empire; by night, he's her most demanding client, unaware the masked submissive he craves is the woman who knows his every secret. What starts as forbidden pleasure turns into a dangerous obsession, one that blurs the lines between power, pain, and love.

As enemies close in and Nora’s past resurfaces, she must decide which part of herself to save… the woman he commands, or the woman who could destroy him.

Trigger Warning: This story contains explicit BDSM scenes (including dominance/submission dynamics, impact play, restraint, and sensory deprivation), graphic depictions of gun violence and murder, kidnapping attempts, mafia-related threats and organized crime elements, alcohol use, and themes of secrecy, betrayal, and emotional manipulation. Reader discretion is advised – safe, sane, and consensual practices are emphasized, but content may be intense for some.

A housewife's revenge, years in the making.
I filed for divorce — simply because my husband and daughter treated me like I didn't exist.
There was no affair. No betrayal of the flesh. But I couldn't stand another woman mattering more than me.
This marriage was broken beyond repair.
And all I wanted was a perfect life.

“Fuck me,” I mutter, “or kill me. We both know you have to choose.”

He snarls as he wraps his hands around my waist.

“Have you ever been fucked, Lucia Reid?”

It's the first time he's said my real name, and it sends heat sparking between my thighs.

“Of course I’ve had sex.”

He leans in until his mouth is against my cheek and whispers, “That’s not what I asked.”

My toes curl in my expensive heels, my hips rolling against him, and his mouth slants over mine roughly, his hands pushing the material of my dress until it pools at the tops of my thighs.

He pushes into me then until I feel his cock pressing hard against my clothed sex.

“I’ll fuck you so hard, princess,” his mouth is at my ear, “Hard enough for you to forget about all about the Reids and Ardens and everything else that doesn’t matter. I’ll make you forget about every cocky rich boy who ever smiled at you, the ones who couldn’t handle you, and I’ll make you come so hard that by the time I'm done... you’ll have to name me king.”

Blurb

Lucia Reid is the kind of girl people fear, envy, and never say no to.

Elias Arden is the one boy who doesn't care who she is.

When a dangerous night ends with Lucia hurt and in his arms, David Reid makes a ruthless decision: Elias will become her new live-in bodyguard.

Now the boy who can’t stand her follows her everywhere. The girl he wants nothing to do with is suddenly impossible to escape. And the more they clash, the more dangerous the tension between them becomes.

Because Lucia has secrets.

Elias has motives.

And in the Reid house, nothing is ever as it seems.

The day I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, my husband was still thrusting into me, emptying himself with a roar.
The moment he finished, I opened my mouth to tell him I had three months to live.
He cut me off.
'Lindsey's back. Let's get a divorce.'
My heart died in that instant.

After years of marriage, my husband and son never once treated me like I mattered.
In their eyes, there was only another woman.
When I heard them talking about abandoning me again, I finally hit my limit.
So I asked for a divorce.
From that day on, I lived for myself—and myself alone.

On the day my son died, I saw my husband out playing with his mistress and her child.
They carelessly destroyed my child's belongings and took over my home.
They even suspected I was lying, treating his death as a joke.
Only when I revealed I had just three months to live did my husband's remorse finally arrive.
But it was too late. I would personally take back everything that belonged to me!

Avery lost everything the day her father betrayed the Silver-Ridge Pack.
Branded a traitor. Blamed for her sister's death. Sold to the very Alpha her father once betrayed.
Lucian Draveth is blind. Merciless. A monster whispered about in fear. A man who sees Avery as nothing more than a property.
But Avery refuses to submit.
"You want a chance, Avery? Fine. Let's play a game." His voice is calm.
"The main gate is half a mile through the forest. If you reach it and pass through before I lay a hand on you… you are free."
My breath hitches. "And if you catch me?"
"Then you stop fighting and come back. Run."
Five minutes. Half a mile. One blind Alpha hunting her through the dark.
Avery runs. Not because she believes she'll win but because she refuses to break.
The closer Avery gets to freedom, the more she realizes something is wrong. Lucian is hiding something far worse than cruelty.
And when Avery learns why he refuses to let her go, revenge stops being enough.
In a world where the Moon Goddess chooses mates, Avery must decide: destroy the monster or survive loving one.
Warning: Mature content. Dark romance themes.

I married a man who didn't love me.
When other women falsely accused me, not only did he not help me, but he also sided with them to bully and hurt me...
I was utterly disappointed in him and divorced him!
After returning to my parents' home, my father asked me to inherit billions in assets, and my mother and grandmother pampered me, making me the happiest woman in the world!
At this point, that man regretted it. He came to me, knelt down, and begged me to remarry him.
So, tell me, how should I punish this heartless man?
（I highly recommend a captivating book that I couldn't put down for three days and nights. It's incredibly engaging and a must-read. The title of the book is "The Billionaire's Daughter" You can find it by searching for it in the search bar.）

I watched my husband dote on his pregnant mistress while the doctor told me I had three months left to live.
For ten years, I lived like a ghost in his mansion—paying his bills, enduring his lies, carrying a marriage he never valued. He assumes I’ll never leave because he’s footing the cost of my mother’s cancer treatment.
He’s right. I do need the money.
But I refuse to spend the rest of my life watching him love another woman.
The divorce papers are on the table. And this time, I’m not pleading.
I’m choosing myself.

I got my diagnosis the same day his ex walked out of our bathroom in his bathrobe.
For three years, I wasn’t a wife. I was a placeholder.
With my time running out, something in me finally broke—clean and final.
I won’t spend what’s left dying for a man who never chose me.
This time, I choose myself.

When nineteen-year-old Seraphina Winters returns home after her mother’s sudden marriage, she expects distance and discomfort not the magnetic pull of her new stepfather. Damon Blackwood is powerful, guarded, and dangerously attentive, and living under the same roof makes every glance feel like a test of control.

As secrets rise and boundaries blur, Seraphina is forced to confront feelings she never invited, while Damon struggles between duty, guilt, and a desire he refuses to name. In a house built on wealth and silence, one wrong step could destroy them both.

Some love stories aren’t meant to begin but once they do, they refuse to end quietly.

After years of marriage, on the day I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, my husband and another woman's names spread across the entire city.
And I was just his wife who couldn't be seen in public.
When I saw them appear together as a couple once more, I couldn't take it anymore.
I want a divorce. From now on, I'm spending whatever time I have left on myself.

After years of marriage, I hid my true identity to live as the most ordinary housewife.
But my husband abandoned me for my half-sister.
I tossed the divorce papers at him, and that very night, I hit up a bar and ordered eight male escorts.
When I spotted my husband, I slapped his face with a defiant smirk. "You're just a washed-up old man—I deserve way better!"

For years, I was the invisible wife and the mother who never mattered. My husband and son had a habit of putting everyone else first—especially his first love.
Then, they abandoned me one too many times for her. That was the moment I finally broke.
I’m done being the afterthought. I’m done playing house. I’m leaving them behind to find the woman I lost—and this time, I’m living for myself.

After more than twenty years of life, I finally learned that I wasn’t my parents’ biological daughter.
They couldn’t wait to send me back to the family everyone said was poor and run-down.
But sitting in an antique car that looked like it might fall apart at any moment, I stared at the mansion in front of me—something straight out of a palace—and rubbed my chin.
So this is what they call a hard life?

For years of marriage, my husband and son treated me as invisible.
The woman they truly adored was someone else—and they even pushed me aside because of her.
Now, as they abandon me once again, I can no longer endure watching them openly lavish their affection on another woman.
Watch me disappear—for good this time.

After years of marriage, my husband has always believed that our one-night stand was a trap I set for him.
There’s another woman in his heart.
What I never expected was that even my own son would turn his back on me.

Raven thought she knew the truth: Darius Pike is a monster.
To avenge her sister, Raven Casmir infiltrates the supernatural Midnight Academy, masquerading as a human girl with a death wish. She takes his spot on the hockey team. She mocks his Alpha authority. She plays a dangerous game of cat and mouse in the shadows of his billion-dollar empire.

Darius has never met a human he couldn’t break. Until her. The fiery-haired rebel doesn’t bow. She fights. She’s the ultimate forbidden fruit—the sister of the girl he once rejected, and the only person who makes his wolf lose control.

But as blood ties turn to betrayals and ancient MoonWolf powers awaken, Raven discovers the most terrifying secret of all: Her sister lied. And the man she swore to destroy is the only one who can save her from the darkness in her own soul.

BLURB

Three years ago, Violet Sorel watched the crown prince of Valdris burn her world to the ground. He took her kingdom, killed her parents, bit her in her own courtyard, and left her for dead. She survived. She planned. And when his palace posted an open call for blood servants, she walked straight through his doors with a smile on her face and murder in her heart.

Getting close to Prince Caspian was supposed to be simple. It was never simple.

Now she is his blood servant, his secret, and the first witch to walk Solaria in a thousand years — shipped off to Eirenmoor Academy where an incubus knows her from her dreams, a fae lord won't stay out of her forest, and the prince himself keeps looking at her like he is trying to remember something he was never supposed to forget.

She has a plan. She has a poison. She has everything she needs to destroy him.

The problem is the bond between them and the fact that it has never, not once, felt like hate.

The last witch of solaria is the first book in the Solaria trilogy… a slow burn reverse harem fantasy romance featuring a morally complex heroine, political intrigue, a magic academy that kills its students, and a revenge plot that refuses to stay simple.

I was nine months pregnant, soaking in the tub, when an anonymous email popped up.
The first attachment was my husband’s medical report. [Severe Azoospermia. 100% Sterile.]
I touched my swollen belly. If Arthur was sterile, whose baby was this?
The second attachment was a news article. [Billionaire's Pregnant Wife Drowns in Master Bath.]
The publication date was tomorrow morning. I thought it was a sick prank.
Then, the bathroom door opened. My husband stood there, loosening his tie.
"You look beautiful tonight," he murmured.

I was reborn on the exact day I was supposed to sign the marriage contract with the Alpha Kael.

I didn't hesitate. I crossed out my name and wrote my stepsister's instead. Let her have the bastard. I took my mother's estate back and headed straight to the underground shifter bar.

"Bring me the hottest wolf warriors you've got. All of them," I told the bartender, slapping a wad of cash down.

I was done being the obedient Luna.

On our first wedding anniversary, I walked into my husband's office and found him having sex with my best friend.

He didn't even apologize. Instead, claiming he was disgusted that I hadn't produced an heir in a year of marriage, he threw divorce papers in my face.

Five years later, I returned to New York with my new husband—Cassian Vitiello, the Godfather of the North American underworld.

Vincent ran into me at the docks. He handed me a business card, offering me a job as a nanny for his mistress's son.

What he didn't know was that the woman he was mocking was now the Donna—the woman the entire East Coast underground feared.

Five years ago, my sister vanished the night before her wedding. She left behind a crying newborn in a crib and a mafia heir on the verge of losing control.

And I was forced into her place—the temporary bride, the contract wife, the whispered “replacement” in every gilded hallway.

I thought I only had to survive five years. Five years to earn what I was promised, and then walk away from this city of shadows and blood.

I clawed my way through bullets, politics, and betrayal. I earned respect. I gained power.
And somehow... I tasted a tenderness I was never meant to have.

Now, with only ten days left on our marriage contract, I thought everything was finally under control. I thought freedom and power were within reach.

Until she came back—wrapped in grace, dripping secrets, smiling as if she owned the world she abandoned.

She looked at me and said, “Little sister, give me back my life.”