263 Book(s) Related to jang dong-yoon

Valentina Russo has spent her entire life hating one man—Luca Moretti, the ruthless Don of the Moretti Family. The man she believes ordered her brother’s murder. The man responsible for years of bloodshed between their families. In her eyes, he is nothing but a monster wearing a crown of power and violence.

So when a devastating mafia war pushes both empires to the brink of collapse, a fragile peace is forced into existence through an arranged marriage neither side truly wants. Valentina is sent to the altar as a sacrifice—bound to the very enemy she swore to destroy. Now she must live as the wife of the man she despises most, trapped inside his world of blood, loyalty, and dangerous secrets.

But in a house built on hatred and lies, nothing is as it seems. As enemies close in from every direction and buried truths begin to surface, Valentina starts to question everything she believed about her family, the war, and Luca himself. And when the truth behind the bloodshed finally comes out, she is forced to decide—will love be enough to survive the sins of their past, or will it destroy them both?

She is his passion, desire and his obsession. Luciano Greco, a formidable mafia boss has one goal in mind: making Jade Peterson his wife. And not even the forces above can stand in his way.


|Strong female lead, Dominating Male Lead, Obsession, Crime, Love and Lust|

Luciano Greco, the ruthless crime boss of the Italian-American mafia has been betrothed to Jade Peterson but his would be wife is not as submissive as he imagined her to be.

Infact, she is the opposite of everything; she is fierce, bold, outspoken, and impulsive.

But still it does not deny the fact that he is pulled to this impulsive and cunning woman no matter how hard he tries to mask it. She has him on his knees but he is unwillingly to admit it.

He is addicted and she is his drug. He is a sinner and she is his greatest sin. He needs to claim her for himself and tame the fiery spirit in her.

From an arranged marraige which sets off a chain of events that tends to tear them further apart, will they both be willing to let down their guard and confess their love amidst the chaos?

Will she let him claim her soul the way he yearns to claim her body as his?

‘I had not expected to breed you, little girl.’ He said, his voice emotionless but his eyes were hot with lust,’ You were just a plaything to be used till I tired of you, but there was no way I would let any child of mine grow up as a bastard.’
My breath caught in my throat at the sheer cruelty, the heartlessness of his words. Was that all I had been to him?
The young innocent woman and the older, heartless Mafia Boss who cannot have enough of her.

When the cynical, jaded Mafia Don Lucien Delano, meets eighteen-year-old, Proserpina Martinez, she falls in love with him without realizing that she is just a plaything for him. By the time she comprehends reality, it is too late. Pregnant and alone the spirited young woman does something that takes the Don by surprise.
She runs away.
But the Don has never had a woman dump him; He is the one who leaves them, Incensed, he sets out to get them back
What happens next?
Read it to find out how the stormy, passionate lovers battle their emotions and themselves.

Marcello is a young Italian boss, who has built his empire on total intolerance and violence. Elsa's father is murdered in the most ruthless way, which gets Don Marcello involved, and his life entangled with this young mafia's daughter.

He kidnapped her, claiming his aim is to protect her from her father's murderers but it certainly does not seem like it because he is possessive and won't let her go!

Elsa is no innocent good girl either, she is more than ready to revenge her father's death and no handsome possessive devil can keep her caged, and make her sip tea while her father's murder enjoys her family's downfall!

Marcello and Elsa's life has to change, in a way that has them reeling with emotion, lust, passion, and dark secrets, and surely nothing will ever be the same again for the both of them.

Ariel Bennett is one of the most popular rising stars in the music industry, beautiful, untouchable, adored. But behind closed doors, her world is a cage built on control, threats, and a routine of being pimped out to satisfy powerful men.

When one of those men is killed, with her as the only witness, she’s forced into a deal with the most dangerous man she has ever met.

Vincent Russo.

It’s that or she dies.


Vincent Russo only had one goal when he decided to keep Ariel alive that night: use her for his operation, then erase her existence when it was over.

That was until a coup was formed against him, and he had to seek refuge with her to regroup and strategize.

Without warning, feelings start to grow, tension becomes palpable, and he finds himself becoming vulnerable around her, which he hates but can't help.

When the danger of his world looms even closer and puts her in danger, he can't help but ask himself a question...

Was he selfish enough to hold onto her when he's everything she should be running away from?

"My gift has finally arrived, a perfect specimen, perfect for an heir."


If only I had known that I wouldn't ever return to my house. Never see my mother, my siblings, or Violet... I never would have gotten in that car.

My father remarked, "She's all yours,"

"Dad? Dad? Dad?! " I yelled. I squirmed as tears began to stream, attempting to break free.


Years have passed...

"My gift has finally arrived," said a voice I recognized. That voice was the catalyst for my downfall.

"Well, now that we're acquainted, I think we can go see my son." You know, I purchased you for him. "A perfect specimen, perfect for an heir," he murmured, a nasty smirk on his face.


"Son!" Antonio applauded.

"What do you want, father?" I felt a little chill at the sound of the fresh voice. The Italian accent in the words, together with how deep, velvety, and dominating it was, shook me to my very core. I was a little pleased that he spoke so harshly about his father.

He had midnight-black hair that fell in a part of his onyx eyes, which was lengthy in the center but short on the sides. Deeply tanned complexion, full pink lips, and a jawline with a five o'clock shadow.

He was dressed in a black suit with a white shirt beneath that had the first three buttons undone, revealing some tattoos. His hands were encrusted with silver rings, some of which had black jewels. Both hands and backs of both had tattoos.

I was intrigued by the creative swirls since I was ignorant of the whole tattoo.

Not if he made the decision to remove his shirt.


Lucy was sold to Antonio Martinelli, the former boss of the biggest Italian mafia when she was 14 years old. After spending years in the "safe house," Lucy is delivered to his son Luca Martinelli, the new leader, as a birthday gift. Luca fights the urge to fall in love with the ebony beauty as Lucy attempts to keep a promise she made and regain her former self. Will they endure all the deceit, lust, murder, and betrayal committed in the name of love together?

I've signed five blood-bound annulment contracts with my mafia don husband.
Each and every time, he fed me the same line: "When this is over, we'll tie the knot again."
But every single one of those "things" was for the same woman: Seraphina Moretti.
We ended our marital bond for the first time, and I sobbed, begging him to tell me if his love for me had ever been real.
He clamped his hold on my jaw hard enough to whiten his knuckles, enunciating every word coldly: "Elara, that doesn't matter."
When the second annulment rolled around, I was mocked openly at the family gala, labelled a discarded floozy for all the clan to see. I locked myself away in the ensuite bathroom and sliced open my wrists; blood trickled along the tile grout, pooling across the floor like a crimson stream.

My best mate Talia tracked me down to find me trembling. It wasn't the wound's ache making me shake, though—Killian was somewhere on the estate that very night, yet he never bothered to pop by and check on me once.

By the third split, I'd taught myself never to shed a tear in his presence.

On the fourth occasion, I even took it upon myself to ask him flat-out: "What sham do you need me to play along with now?"
He froze for the longest moment, said nothing at all in the end, just curled his hands into tight fists and spun his back on me.
Now we're here for the fifth annulment.
He's fool enough to think he only needs to click his fingers and I'll trot back to remarry him just as I've done all the previous times. What he did not know is this:
This time, I'm disappearing from his life for good.

Eight years ago, I was forced to marry Sicily's most dangerous man.

Louis De Santis, heir to the Santis crime family, decided he wanted me. Right in front of me, he brutally tortured and killed my fiancé Alessandro, then dumped the body in the ocean for the sharks. He used Alessandro's blood to write threats on the wall to my parents—I had no choice but to walk into that fortress he called home.

Louis was obsessed with me to the point of madness. He took bullets for me during family wars, got down on his knees and begged the family elders when they questioned his choice. Under that twisted kind of love, I gradually fell for him and gave him a son—Marco.

For five years, I thought I'd found happiness.

Until year eight, when the Corleone family sent their "peace offering"—Angelina Corleone. This innocent-looking woman effortlessly stole Louis's heart. He had the nerve to announce: "You two are going to get along."

I couldn't stand the betrayal, so I secretly reached out to other families to try getting rid of Angelina.

I got caught.

In his rage, Louis strung up 5-year-old Marco above the blast furnace at the steel mill.

"NO! Please! He's just a child!" I rushed toward Louis frantically, but his men held me back.

Molten steel roared inside the furnace at 2912°F. Scorching heat blasted upward as little Marco dangled just ten feet above the flames.

My heart nearly stopped.

"Mommy! Help me! It's so hot! So hot!" Marco screamed in terror.

"Put him down! Please!" I fell to my knees, begging desperately, "Kill me! Kill me instead! Don't hurt Marco!"

"Nod and let her stay, and I'll let him down." Louis coldly began counting down: "TEN!"

I watched Marco's little body writhing in agony from the heat.

"NINE!"

Sweat and tears blurred my vision.

"EIGHT!"

"I agree! I AGREE!" I broke down screaming, "She can stay! Please let Marco down!"

Louis smiled with satisfaction and stopped counting, about to signal his men.

Then—

"SNAP!"

The rope suddenly broke!

"NOOO—!"

Time seemed to freeze. I watched helplessly as Marco's tiny body plummeted.

"THUD!"

He fell into the furnace.

In an instant, he was gone.

I completely shattered, blood spurting from my mouth as I collapsed.

When I opened my eyes again, I'd gone back to the day Louis first brought Angelina home.

This time, I'm going to make him pay!

That scumbag who turned into a jerk as soon as he had some money had been sneaking around with my stepsister behind my back. On our wedding night, no less, he was still carrying on with her! To make matters worse, my shameless stepsister drugged me, causing me to lose my long-preserved virginity to some stranger, and I even ended up pregnant with his child! And now, that traitorous bastard wants to divorce me so he can be with my despicable stepsister! Over my dead body!
Four years later, I returned to the country with triplets born abroad, armed with unparalleled medical skills and a burning desire for revenge against those who betrayed me. My ex-husband, that scumbag, begging for a second chance? Get lost!
But what’s the deal with this billionaire I accidentally saved? Not only does he look just like my kids, but he’s also shamelessly insisting on being their father!
The billionaire: "They are my children. Who else do you want them to call dad?"

Three years ago, Marco Ferraro stepped over the corpses of the Vancetti family to claim his throne, delivering my sentence with cold indifference: "Don't take it personally, Noelle. It's just business."
Three years later, he is the untouchable new Godfather of New York, while I am nothing but a ghost in a threadbare coat.
His classless fiancée didn’t just buy my mother’s legacy—she took that rare pink diamond and dropped it, right in front of everyone, into a glass of whiskey thick with spit.
"Thirsty, fallen princess?"
She kicked the backs of my knees hard, forcing me onto the glass-strewn floor. Her sharp stiletto heel ground into my knuckles. "Drink it, or die."
Marco stood to the side, lighting a cigar, his eyes filled with nothing but boredom.
I tightened my grip on the shard of glass hidden in my palm, ready to drag us all down to hell.
But before I could strike, the deafening roar of rotor blades tore through the dome of the auction house. A pitch-black military helicopter hovered just outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the violent rotor wash instantly shattering every champagne tower in the room.
A voice that made the entire underworld tremble boomed through the speakers:
"Which one of you suicidal bastards touched my woman?"
A dozen crimson laser dots instantly painted a target on Marco’s forehead.
Rafael, "The Phantom," had arrived.
Tonight, no one makes it out of here alive—except me.

When my husband handed the project I bled for to his "depressed" childhood sweetheart, he told me to be mature. "You're my wife. You shouldn't care about the credit."

So, when I was in the hospital miscarrying our baby while he threw her a party, I didn't cry. When she posted selfies wearing my anniversary necklace, I didn't scream.

Julian thought he had finally broken me into the perfect, obedient housewife. He truly believed I was nothing without him.

What a pathetic joke.

He had no idea his entire "business empire" was secretly kept alive by my family's trust fund.

He certainly didn't know the "mundane paperwork" he blindly signed this morning was my resignation—and our divorce agreement.

In my past life, I replaced my runaway sister Beatrice and was forced to marry mob enforcer Rowan Sinclair.
She thought he was poor with no future, so she ran. My parents didn't even tell me before sending me in her place.
Rowan knew the truth. He carried it like shame, never truly seeing me—only cold stares and silent contempt. I spent years beside him like an unwanted ghost, carefully managing his world while he rose from despised smuggler to feared godfather.
Then his attitude began to change.
Just when I thought we might have a real future, Beatrice returned with tears and lies, claiming I'd stolen her place. Rowan believed her. My parents betrayed me. Everyone chose her.
When a rival family captured us both, guns to our heads, only one could survive.
Rowan pulled Beatrice into his arms and abandoned me without a glance.
They tortured me for three days. The baby in my womb died first. Its father never knew it existed.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back to that afternoon before it all began.

My daughter died on her seventh birthday.
I held her in the cold ward as her body slowly lost all warmth.
Meanwhile, her father—my husband Vincent—was on a mountain top with his mistress, making love to her all night long.
He said, "She’s just a child. There’ll be better ones sooner or later."
He said, "Camila, you’re the only one I love."
He has no idea that he’s killed the only soul in this world that loved him unconditionally.
After the divorce, I am no longer the meek Mrs. Lucchese who begged for his affection.
Funeral, scandal, a worthless bastard...
Everything I lost, I will make him pay for—with his entire family.

For the tenth time, James Smith left me behind because of a call from his female student.
But it was as if I had become a different person—I no longer doubted that there was something ambiguous between James and his student.
Even on our wedding anniversary, when he abandoned me in the remote mountains for Sophia's sake, I bore no resentment.
Eventually, James began to sense something.
"Emily, you seem different," he said.
I shook my head with a smile.
Because I had simply made a different choice from the one in my past life.

Martin Williams and Estella Jules grew up together, but lived completely different lives. She was the nanny’s daughter, while Martin was the child her mother served. After her mother died, Estella was taken in by the Williams family and raised to become the nanny’s replacement. At home, she was Martin’s loyal servant, but at school, she was his number one target.

Nobody knew about their secret master–maid relationship, and Martin would curse Estella if anyone ever found out they lived in the same apartment. He grew to hate her presence, while Estella continued to smile at him through everything. Not out of loyalty or obligation, but because she was sincerely in love with him.

Estella knew she would do anything for Martin, yet he never cared enough to notice. She couldn’t stop herself, like a moon drawn endlessly to the sun. Until one night, at Martin’s birthday party, her eyes finally opened to who he truly was. That night, she swore she would stop loving him, stop begging for him, and stop crying over him.

What she didn’t know was that her decision would only make their relationship even more complicated—messy, intense, and filled with the reckless sweetness of their perfectly imperfect youth.

The night I was reborn, my adoptive brother—Viktor Konstantin, the Don of the Chicago Outfit—was poisoned during a negotiation.

In my past life, I loved him desperately. So when the aphrodisiac took hold and he gasped for me to call Liliya, I made a selfish choice. I stayed. I gave myself to him.

She arrived too late. When she saw us together, she ran. Her plane crashed over the Atlantic that same night.

Viktor married me without a word of blame. Until a turf war when our enemies captured me—seven months pregnant, chained up, beaten bloody. I called him, begging for help through my tears.

His answer shattered me: "You want to live? After killing Liliya? You and that bastard don't deserve to breathe. Go to hell, Eve."

I died in that cell. Our daughter died with me.

Now I'm staring into those same drugged eyes again.

This time, I'm making the call.

One hundred years married to Everett, and I've learned one thing: whenever he wants to push me into a corner, he throws the mate bond dissolution agreement in my face. Whenever my parents want me to cave, they hold the family name over my head.

They've always wanted the same thing — for me to hand over everything I have to my twin sister Rosalie, who's been sick her whole life.

I've fought it. I've grieved over it.

But when the doctor slid the diagnosis across the desk — Blood Depletion Syndrome, late stage, less than two weeks left — something in me just went quiet.

What's the point of fighting when you're already dead?

When 18-year-old Sienna's dad remarries, she ends up living with 19-year-old Jaxon; her new stepbrother. He's broody, quiet, and always seems one step ahead.
They clash right away, turning every little thing into a battle. But as tension builds, their rivalry starts to blur into something else.
Something neither of them expected or are supposed to feel. And once that line is crossed... there's no going back.

My husband handed me divorce papers at 2 AM—right after he'd had his way with me. Three years of marriage, and he never once believed I was anything but a scheming woman who trapped him. He said he wanted his real love back. I said I wanted our daughter.
He laughed and told me I couldn't afford to raise her alone.
He was right about one thing: I needed money. So I took the only job that could change everything. He showed up at the presentation as the client. When he saw my work, his face went pale. He accused me of plagiarizing a famous designer—the very genius who had saved his company years ago.
He has no idea.
That genius is me.
And he's about to find out exactly who he just let go.

To New York's most powerful family, Russell is just a useless son-in-law. A drifter. A nobody.

But before he walked into their mansion, he was the assassin who single-handedly destroyed the Caesar Cabal, a shadow empire that ruled Europe for two millennia. They took his family. He took their lives.

Now the last target is dead. But the Cabal's roots reach deeper—into America's elite.

So he enters their world with a new cover: a penniless drifter married to a runaway heiress, walking straight into the lion's den.

They think they're using him.

They're wrong. For him, the assassination starts now.

When Dorian Falco’s stepsister and secret lover was found brutally violated in a slum alleyway, the Mafia Don lost his fucking mind.
And he blamed me.
He dragged me into the manor's dungeon, throwing me to a dozen of his most depraved enforcers.
"Whatever Camilla suffered, you'll pay back a thousand times over."
I collapsed on the freezing floor, sobbing as I desperately clutched his pant leg. "I love you! I would never hurt her! Please, Dorian, believe me!"
Dorian only offered his cruelest sneer.
"Jealous that she gets the real thing? Fine. I'll make you filthier than she ever was."
He locked me in that blood-stained cell for seven days and nights.
His thugs, given carte blanche by the Don, whipped me with chains and violated me without restraint. I screamed Dorian's name in the darkness until my throat shredded.
Seven days later, Dorian returned with a recovering Camilla.
He stood outside the heavy iron door, his voice dripping with mock generosity.
"Crawl out here, Saoirse. Get on your knees, kiss Camilla's shoes, and maybe—just maybe—I'll let you live."
Silence. No answer.
Because three days ago, I had already died in that cell.

You've been selected for consideration. Be at the following address by 7:00 p.m. sharp. Be silent. Be seen. Not a word to anyone.

"You've lived in eight different cities in ten years. No record of parents. Multiple jobs. No formal education past high school."
Ivy stiffened.
He turned, and Ivy's breath caught.
Lorenzo Martinelli.
Ivy had never met him before, but she'd seen his face on gossip sites as few times. The billionaire no one ever saw in person. The untouchable, dangerous man with alleged Mafia ties.
"Why did you come?" he asked.
Ivy met his gaze without blinking. "Curiosity. And five hundred bucks."
He smiled, "Honest. That's rare," he said. "I like that."
Lorenzo stood, "I don't want someone who wants me, I want someone who can survive me."
Ivy literally felt the heat of the fire on her face.
"You don't know me," she said quietly.
"No," he agreed. "But I will."

Ivy Wesley believed that marrying a wealthy stranger would be her golden escape from a life of struggle. Lorenzo Martinelli was supposed to be her way out: her fresh start, her answer to every prayer whispered in the dark.
But the moment the mansion doors shut behind her, Ivy understood the truth. She hadn't stepped into a fairy tale. She had walked straight into the lion's den.

He was supposed to be my stepfather. I was supposed to call him Daddy, instead of baby, my darling, or even my husband. But when my mother was murdered, he suddenly dragged me to the altar to take my mother's place to marry him. As if my mother's murder wasn't shocking enough, I was forced to say I do under his piercing gaze, and even a gun to my ribs. I was scared, and I couldn't refuse. I had to marry a stranger who was supposed to be my stepfather. And worse, I didn't know that my future stepfather, or now my future husband, was a Don. "You'll be safe as long as you use my last name. I'll make sure they won't touch a single hair on your head." "Really? What happened to my mother showed otherwise." "Too bad, Katherine no longer has my last name. And you, you're Fiona Craig now." Life was so strange. In an instant I lost my mother. In an instant I became the wife of the Don, Joshua Craig. And who knows what would happen next. It felt so wrong to us. It felt so wrong to me.

The stranger moved closer, closing the space between him and Anna.

His hand came up, gripping her jaw and tilting her face so she had no choice but to meet his gaze.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

Anna swallowed hard, her pulse racing.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I want you to fuck me so hard I forget about my dickhead of a fiancé.”


Anna Hawkins was never supposed to fall into the arms of a stranger. But after walking in on her fiancé having sex with her best friend, pain drove her into the dark corners of a nightclub and straight into the arms of a man with cold eyes, inked skin, and a body that could ruin her.

Their night was supposed to mean nothing.

But unforeseen circumstances throw Anna into a brutal world of betrayal, power, crime, and possession.

She wasn’t just heartbroken anymore.

She was owned.

And the most dangerous part?

She didn’t know how to escape from her cruel fate.

Micah plowed into her soaking wet pussy as he lost his grip on time and his surroundings.

Snow smirked as she watched him wide eyed from beneath him as her magic started to Buble up from deep within her.

"You really think you can handle me, my dear slave?" She husked while Micah was starting to feel slightly light headed.

"Yes!" He gritted out while he felt his climax approaching faster then lightning.

"ALL of me?" Snow whispered in his ear sensually.

"Yes, yes I..." Micah groaned as he suddenly felt a weird sensation creeping into his body starting from where they were joined together. Snow smirked and let her magic take over and poured it into Micah's receiving body making him lose his mind completely!


Don Micah Santorini, hot headed mafia leader with a wicked Snow Queen of the mystical waste lands. Two opposites coming from different worlds find each other, challenge each other, pushing each other's buttons, neither of them wanting to back down!

What will happen when a cold hearted queen lands in the "backyard" of a hot headed mafia king? Will their struggle for power kill the first petals of love before it has a chance to bloom or will it strengthen their unusual bond and help them to create and claim a new kingdom amidst all the other drama and mysteries?

I'll do anything!" she pleads, grabbing my hands. "I'll do anything. Just let him go. He made a mistake." "That's not an excuse. It was a costly mistake." "Please. I'll do anything you want. Anything at all." I let the silence hang in the air between us as I think carefully, my eyes drawn to how firm and full her tits are. "Anything, princess?" She lets go of my hands and straightens, raising her chin. I watch as she swallows nervously. "Y-Yes. Anything at all."

I raise my fingers to her face, smearing my thumbs with her tears. I trail them down her strong jaw, to her throat, over the small hollow between her collarbones, the skin of her chest, stopping between her tits. I circle the spot quietly while she holds her breath, perhaps in anticipation.
"Would you let me fuck you, Titania?" - Feisty, yet innocent Titania Williams is best known for being at the wrong place at the wrong time, and this time she's getting more than she bargained for.
When her dear Uncle Patrick betrays one of the most powerful Mafia Lords in New York, Kristoff Stavkros, Titania is caught unexpectedly in the underworld web of crimes and deceit. To save her uncle's life, she makes Kristoff an offer.

She'll be his for a month. Thirty days, he owns her body. Stupid, right? But Titania plays by the rules. But how can she come out victorious when Kristoff keeps changing the rules and is hell-bent on making her his forever?

One moment Isabella's life was perfect—a thriving business, a father finally free from his depression, and the next, she was forced to marry a man she knew nothing about, a man her father looked at alarmingly with so much fear.
But she knew she had to do it. Her father's life was on the line, and their marriage was the only thing that would keep him alive.

Giovanni Christian Genovese, also known as the Masked king of the underworld, had long planned his vengeance after watching his family get massacred by a bunch of lousy small-town men who were supposed to be ‘hitmen’ and he swore to wipe every traces of them off the face of earth, so the moment he learned of Isabella, he knew his plan has been perfected and after all these years, he was ecstatic to finally set it in motion.

Except she wasn't. Not after he went against the deal and killed her father.
Caught in the tangled web of love and hatred, will Isabella choose to sink into agony or rise up to resist with a clear mind?

At the Falcone estate's riding ring, I watched my eight-year-old son Leo mount Starlight, preparing for the most important performance of his young life.
Before the third obstacle, the horse spooked. The instant Leo was thrown, I rushed forward to shield him—the cost was three shattered ribs and a kicked left lung.
When I woke from unconsciousness, I found myself in Dante's private clinic downstairs. From the adjacent room came the doctor's angry voice: "We agreed this was just a marrow extraction. Why did you set up what happened with the horse?"
My husband Dante Falcone's response made my blood run cold: "Leo was Mia's donor. Now that the procedure is complete, there's no point in continuing treatment. Mia is the real heir."
Eight years of marriage. I'd always believed that beneath Dante's cold exterior, Leo was still a son he treasured.
Only now did I understand—from the moment of his birth, Leo had been nothing more than a living donor prepared for his stepsister Mia.
The cruelest irony? Mia, the girl Dante loved so deeply, wasn't even his biological daughter.

My name is Dafu, I am a dog, and I can smell death.

Sweet, cloying spores and a metallic, fishy stench seeped in through the cracks in the door.
The owner's friend was crying and calling for help outside the door , but all I could hear from my nostrils was the gurgling of mucus and the rustling of fungal hyphae climbing—
The person outside had no heartbeat.

The owner ultimately decided to open the door and rescue the person .
no!

I bit his hand tightly , my eyes pleading desperately—
Master, trust me !
That thing outside the door! It's not a person at all!

I married Massimo Salvatore, the mafia don, thirty-two times. And divorced him thirty-two times.

Every single time for the same reason—his precious Claudia came back from her overseas treatment facility.

"She took a bullet to the head for me. Any stress could kill her." That was his only explanation.

The first divorce, I trashed the entire living room. He slapped me across the face: "Cut the DRAMA. We'll get back together once she's stable."

The third time, I followed them to the club and caught them kissing. I confronted him—got locked in the basement for seven days.

Sign the papers, take off the ring, pack my bags. Like a nightmare on repeat.

Until the thirty-third time.

A rival family grabbed both me and Claudia. With a gun to his head, he could only save one of us. I looked at him, voice breaking: "Massimo, just this once, pick me."

He walked toward her.

Four hours later, his men found me in some abandoned warehouse. Three broken ribs, blood everywhere. Our baby—gone.

Massimo camped out by Claudia's hospital bed, wouldn't leave her side. Didn't visit me once. Not even when I got discharged.

That's when I was done.

“Please— Don’t stop, just hold me a little longer.”
I melted against his body, drowning in the peak of our intimacy. The exact moment I came undone beneath him, a gunshot echoed out, and a bullet tore straight into my body.
That’s how Vito will kill me four years from now.
After waking up a second time, I only had one goal: blend perfume quietly and save enough money to disappear. I feared danger more than anything, eager to steer clear of every threat within reach. The more I tried to avoid him, the more we crossed paths. He forced me to pick between death or sharing his bed each night.
I tried faking an engagement with another man to break free. He locked me up in his country estate and hurled vicious threats to force me to submit. I made a second escape attempt, only to get caught. Trembling, I asked what I’d need to do for him to let me go. The arrogant, untouchable don told me he’d give me absolutely anything I could ever wish for—he’d hand me the whole world, if I wanted it. Everything, apart from the freedom to leave him. I sneak away to save cash each day, stuck with a terrible sinking thought: Am I doomed to die by his hands all over again in this life?

When Alora Marino gets involved in the mafia after making one fateful decision, her bland and ordinary life changes completely.
She rescues the younger brother of a mafia Don, Dante Bellini, and soon after finds herself stuck in a dangerous game.
Torn between her vows as a nurse and the seducing figure of Dante, Alora lives in a mix of dangerous surroundings where new enemies seem to rise everyday.
As threats increase, Alora’s choices will not only impact her, but also the people she cares about. Will Alora make the tough choice between love and loyalty? Or will she run for the hills to save herself?

After my parents passed away, I regarded the Carter family as my last blood relatives and Jessica as the light for the rest of my life. Until that day, Dafu, who was sitting next to me on the sofa, suddenly looked up and his voice hit me directly in the head.
It said that Jessica holding Brad's arm was a ploy to force me to sell my house. It said that my parents' insurance money had long been "borrowed" away by Carter time and time again. It said that in thirty days, extreme cold would arrive, with temperatures dropping to minus eighty degrees Celsius, turning the world into hell.
Memories of my past life were also poured in by Dafu—they broke my legs and threw me outside, where I froze into an ice sculpture in a blizzard.
Dafu rushed to save me, but Brad pinned him to the snow, skinned him, made a fire, and ate him.
I silently pulled out the Glock 19 my father had left me and chambered a round.
Click.
In this life, I won't listen to people anymore; I'll listen to dogs.

I am the Don's wife, but I can't wear a coat without Elena's passcode.
My cards are monitored. My cash is approved. My life runs through the woman who loves my husband and hates my existence.
Dante calls it protocol. He calls it protection. He never asks why I wear the same faded sweater in winter.
I swallowed every humiliation because my mother's ventilator depended on his signature.
But Elena intentionally delayed funds for my mother’s medical treatment. Our brutal clash made me miscarry.
My mother died alone without timely treatment. I stopped filing all daily spending applications for three days straight.
Today he calls, calm and condescending, telling me the medical accounts are restored.
He thinks I'll fall back into line.
He doesn't know the only thing I'm requesting now is a signature—his, on the divorce papers.

My betrothed, Theron, gave me a unicorn — the highest honor our court could grant a lady.
I had it hitched to a dung cart and sent through the lower city.
Only because I had lived this life before.
Last time, I was proud of that creature. I rode it to every hunt, every procession, and people said no beast so pure had ever chosen a rider. My light was the brightest among the elves. Then, season by season, it went out. I withered, I burned away in my own bed, and everyone wept over how strangely the great Lady Eldraine had aged.
I thought it was some illness. I begged every healer in the realm. None of them found a thing.
I only learned the truth after I died.
My spirit watched a girl climb out of that unicorn's body. Elowen. The pale, dying little thing the whole court called a saint — and the woman Theron had wanted all along. She was wearing my light now — my glow, my color, my stolen years. She was radiant. She was alive. And she was in Theron's arms, where I used to stand.
"The binding held," she whispered to him. "Every time she rode me, I drank a little more. Her light. Her magic. Her life. It's all mine now."
Theron didn't even glance at my body. "She gave you her life," he said. "She should be glad."
So I laughed, when I woke again on the morning he led that unicorn into the hall.

Four years ago, Giovanni dumped me in front of everyone at an upscale restaurant. Two weeks later, he was engaged to Rosanna. I made a fool of myself begging on his doorstep, became the laughingstock of Ferro City.
Four years later, he runs into me at Casa Valentino, assumes I'm destitute, and offers me a job as a cleaner for him.
What he doesn't know is that the plainly dressed woman standing before him is the wife of Don Alessandro Valentino—the man the entire underworld bows to.

Raella is a struggling waitress hiding from her past; Vincenzo is the ruthless heir to a mafia empire. When Raella crashes his party and accidentally flashes him, she thinks it’s the worst night of her life. She’s wrong. The next day, a sniper shoots up her diner, and Vincenzo is the only one who can save her. His price? A fake marriage. She becomes his wife, his bait, and his obsession. But as the lines between "fake" and "real" blur, Raella realizes the safest place might be in the arms of the monster.

"Miss Emily Collombo is three weeks pregnant with your child, Mr. Ferrari."
How could such a mistake happen?
His sperm had been inseminated into the wrong woman. Not just any woman, but Emily Collombo, the very woman engaged to marry his sworn enemy, Marco Russo.
Emily Collombo never had a choice. As the illegitimate daughter of the Collombo Family, she existed only as a bargaining chip, raised to serve the family's interests and forced into marriage with Marco Russo, the heir to one of Italy's most powerful mafia clans.
Her future had already been decided until a devastating error at the hospital shattered everything. A case of medical negligence turned her life upside down.
Now, Emily is carrying the child of Dante Ferrari, the feared Don of the Ferrari Mafia Clan.
The Ferraris are not merely powerful. They rule the underworld with absolute authority, known for their ruthlessness and feared by all who cross their path.

Ten years ago, Clark Russo abandoned Nikolai Petrov on a rooftop and disappeared without a word.

Now, Nikolai is no longer the reckless boy Clark loved. He is the ruthless Don of the Bratva, feared across New York, and he wants revenge. His plan? Marry Clark’s little sister and drag the Russo family to its knees.

But Clark knows the truth. Beneath Nikolai’s rage is the boy he once loved, and beneath the marriage arrangement lies a deadly conspiracy that could end in bloodshed.

Forced back into each other’s lives, old obsession reignites into something dangerous—violent fights, stolen kisses, buried secrets, and a love neither of them ever survived.

In a world ruled by guns, betrayal, and power, loving each other may be the one thing that finally destroys them both.

Elena Russo lost the one person who meant the world to her brother, and ever since then; she was deeply fueled by the strong urge for revenge on the family that murdered him.

She dedicated her life to this cause as an understated waitress by day and a renowned genius hacker in the Mafia underworld by night. All her efforts to track down the Moretti family were useless. Everyone knew who they were, yet no one knew them.

What happens when Elena decides to loosen up on a certain night and recklessly has a one-night stand with the same man she had been searching for all her life-Luca Moretti?

And when she finds herself falling deeply for this same person, and facing a shocking revelation that all she had believed for years was nothing but a lie, what happens next?

Why don't you find out?

Eleanor Shaw came to the Sterling estate with a sole and fiery intention-revenge. Disguised as a shy maid, she aimed to take down the person who gave the final orders to her parents' murder-The Sterling family.

The man she encounters, however, is a complex and calculating monarch, rather than a straightforward monster- Alexander Sterling, a cold and cunning mafia boss nicknamed 'The Ghost.' He also recognizes the intelligent mind that lurks beneath the servile facade that Eleanor has adopted.

Caught up in a deadly game of chess and politics, Eleanor’s mission becomes further clouded with a dangerous and rising passion for her sworn nemesis, who is deeply embroiled with the most prominent political family in New York - the Van Horns.

The white ivory queen, Alexander, gives Eleanor the start of their perilous waltz on a checkerboard.

These matches, like their real-life battles, become a reflection of their struggle for power. Every move uncovers another layer of her brilliant mind; every checkmate brings him closer to a truth that could ruin them both.

When Eleanor discovers that her parents' deaths are part of a broader conspiracy reaching the highest levels of both the mafia and the government, she must choose between her lifelong aim for vengeance and the man she set out to destroy.

Alexander, in turn, must choose between the empire he has built and the player who has become crucial to his endgame, even if she now represents his downfall.

Where there is love and revenge, they will understand that their game isn't determined by pieces, but rather through the power of hearts and souls. Whether they separate themselves or create a new future from the past will depend on their final move.

Read on for the final Checkmate!!

Tobias Slate was an ex-military—framed, hunted, and now reborn as the silent enforcer for a mafia family.

His new assignment? Dalla Mulvaney, the reckless heir who drinks, fights, and breaks every rule just to prove he’s unfit to lead.

But Tobias has one order, put him in shape to wear the crown, or eliminate him if he becomes too dangerous.

What begins as surveillance becomes obsession. What starts as hatred ignites into something raw and dangerous behind closed doors.

But in their world, the walls are always listening.

When a single act of betrayal destroys everything they’ve built, Tobias is ripped away and Dalla is forced to become the monster he never wanted to be.

Now the only question left is whether the man who was ordered to kill him… will pull the trigger when the time comes.

I took a submachine gun bullet for Mafia Don Vincenzo Lombardi. I drank poisoned wine for him and bore his heir. To the the entire syndicate, I was his loyal cleaner and lucky talisman.
But the moment he seized ultimate power, he brought her home—my "pure and fragile" adopted sister, Vanessa.
For her, Vincenzo shattered my knees, handed over my title as Donna, and turned my own son against me. He dismissed my broken heart, claiming I was being petty and that she was merely "joining the family."
Yet, the innocent Vanessa was a monster in disguise. She ruthlessly slit her own mother’s throat—the woman who raised me—and locked me in a sub-zero freezer.
When Vincenzo finally pried the heavy iron door open, there was no pity in his eyes. He only offered a cold command: crawl and beg his pregnant new Donna for forgiveness.
Wiping the bloody ice crystals from my lips, I looked at the man I had loved with my life, and rasped my final words: "Vincenzo... I'm dying."

At Thornfield Academy, power wears a perfect smile.
Old money. Legacy names. Students raised to rule the world before they even graduate. They call themselves untouchable. They call themselves saints.

They’re lying.

Jordan is not supposed to exist here. Not under this name. Not in this body. Disguised as James Blake, she’s hiding in plain sight, buried inside a school built on secrets, privilege, and rot. One wrong move and everything unravels. Her past. Her identity. The truth about the blood she left behind.

But Thornfield is not just another elite academy.

The students are watching. Testing. Hunting for weakness.

The pretty sinners who break people for fun.
The dirty saints who pretend they’re innocent.

And then there’s Teddy Phillips. Too kind for a place like this. Too close for comfort.

Then there's the captain of the Soccer team. The only one who might see through her before she’s ready.

Because Jordan did not come here just to survive.

She came here because Thornfield is hiding something.

And if she is right, the lies buried in these halls are worth killing for.

In a school where legacy is everything, the truth is the most dangerous thing of all.

She was an S-rank spy — cold, brilliant, unstoppable. Then her own people betrayed her, and she died.
She woke up as the family idiot everyone laughed at.
Scarred face. Malnourished. Dead last in school. Abused by her stepmother, framed by her sister, mocked by the entire campus.
The original owner of this body could take it. She couldn't.
Call her ugly? She formulates her own skincare remedy — and stuns the room.
Call her stupid? Top university presidents come knocking at her door. Legendary doctors beg for her secret formulas. Global superstars chase her down for a collaboration.
All she wanted was a quiet, ordinary life this time around.
Instead, her covers keep blowing, and without even trying, she's climbed back to the top of the world.
Meanwhile, the most mysterious young lord in the city opens her classified file from her past life. A slow smile crosses his face.
"This so-called idiot… is rather interesting."

After I found out about the secret admirer he’s been talking to for the past two months the, he throws divorce papers at my face after being married for six months. He claims that his admirer would give him half of the Williamson cooperation. He thinks I’m the naive middle class woman he married but what he doesn’t know is I’m the owner of the Williamson Cooperation, the company I inherited from my father’s as his only child just before he died. Throws out of the house, I decided to reclaim my power and move back to my estate. I hosted a convention where the secret admirer would be handing him the properties and I put everyone in shock when I show up and they find out it’s me. Richard begs at my feet for mercy but I totally ignore him and choose his personal assistant who has always been good to me from the very day I stepped into Richard’s mansion as his wife

No tears. No scene. Just one thing —
A divorce agreement on the dining table, and she walked out the door.
Under Reason for Divorce, she wrote: Husband's sexual dysfunction.
For the first time, Fu Yuting's cold composure cracked. He tore the papers apart.
She just smiled. "That's fine. I made copies."
Three years she loved him. Three years he hurt her.
The moment she finally let go — he realized the woman who had lived for him would never look back.

After years of desperate IVF attempts, I overheard my husband boast that the baby was his and his ex's.
The child in my womb wasn't mine!
But when I pressed a gun to the complicit doctor's head, he trembled and spilled an even bigger bombshell—the mix-up wasn't my egg, it was the sperm... and the donor was Damien Costello, the most powerful Mafia Don in the city.
I was carrying Costello's baby!

James Johnson bought me from the black market for five million.
I went from being a mercenary to his bodyguard, and also his plaything to satisfy his desires.
Countless intimate nights gradually changed the nature of our relationship.
Until he risked his life to save me during a gang shootout.
His restrained feelings finally broke free, and he proposed to me.
But today, five years later.
Right after James took control of the Johnson Family, he quickly got engaged to Julia, the daughter of the Smith Family, the biggest arms dealer.
I confronted him, only to overhear his conversation with a friend.
"I told Sophia I'd marry her just to make her give everything for me, even die for me. After all, those brothers fighting me for the inheritance are all crazy."
His friend laughed. "But she's risked her life for you for six years. That's pretty cold."
"Doesn't matter. With her background, she was never fit to be a mafia heir's wife anyway."
I stood outside the door and let out a bitter laugh.
Back in my room, I contacted Marshall Johnson.
"I promised to keep James safe until he became head of the Johnson Family. The mission's complete now. Please give me my freedom as agreed."

“You look like her,” my father whispered, forcing me into my twin sister’s wedding dress, but he didn't warn me that I was marrying a monster.

My twin sister ran away, leaving me to marry Luciano Moretti, a ruthless Mafia Don. I walked down the aisle, trembling, praying he wouldn't notice the switch. But the moment he kissed me at the altar, his tongue invaded my mouth, demanding and possessive, tasting me like I was his property.

I thought I could hide the truth. But on our wedding night, he walked out of the bathroom wearing only a towel, water dripping down his sculpted abs and the distinct V-line that pointed to his heavy manhood.

He cornered me against the bed. “You smell different, wifey,” he whispered, his hand sliding up my thigh, his thumb brushing dangerously close to my wet heat.

I tried to push him away, but the next morning, he decided to test me. He pushed a plate of peanut butter bagels toward me—food that would kill me, but was my sister's favorite.

“Eat,” he commanded, his eyes dropping to my chest where my nipples were hard against the silk robe. “Or do you want me to feed you something else?”

His gaze darkened, shifting to my lips, and I knew he wasn't talking about food. He knows I'm a fake. And he’s going to enjoy every second of punishing me for it.