4 Book(s) Related to l'amour impitoyable

I'm the only daughter of a mafia leader. I married Marco, an outsider, against my father's wishes.

Six months ago, my father died in a car accident. Marco took over part of the family business. One day when I was feeling down, I passed through the slums and saved a girl named Gianna who was being beaten for stealing food. I took her in as my assistant and treated her like a sister.

But when I was six months pregnant, I walked into the company break room and found Gianna in lingerie, seducing Marco.

I ordered my guards to send her back to the slums immediately.

Marco tried to plead for her. I cut him off coldly: "I don't want to see her again."

He went silent for a moment but didn't oppose my decision.

Over the next three months, Marco seemed warm and caring on the surface but grew increasingly distant. I thought he was just busy with work and decided to help him after the baby was born.

My due date is this week.

Last night, Marco lulled me to sleep like always, his voice so gentle.

But now when I wake up, I find myself lying in the middle of a deserted forest.

And my husband, holding Gianna whom I had sent away, looked at me arrogantly and said, "Since you love sending people away so much, I suppose it shouldn't be a problem for me to send you here to give birth, should it?"

On the way to the hospital to deliver my baby, rain was coming down in sheets.
Suddenly, my husband slammed on the brakes. He'd spotted his ex-girlfriend standing in the downpour with her child.
"She's struggling as a single mom. I'm just going to help her carry those groceries upstairs. Ten minutes, tops."
Clutching my belly through the contractions, I begged him, "But I'm about to give birth. I'm in so much pain."
He just locked the car doors with a click, his voice sharp with annoyance.
"Sarah, can you try to be a little more empathetic? She's soaking wet."
In those ten minutes, my water broke. Desperate to survive, blood on my hands, I crawled out through the back hatch.
While I was fighting for my life in the ER—
His ex posted a snapshot.
In the video, my husband was gently toweling off her hair. The caption read:
[So glad you're here.]

36 weeks pregnant, I was thrown into the dungeon by my own husband.

When my water broke, I desperately reached out through the mate bond, calling for him—only to discover that he had severed it with his own hands.

They lashed my swollen belly with leather whips. They injected wolfsbane into my veins. And when my baby's head began to crown, they shoved her back inside me.

All because his sister-in-law Genevieve was also in labor today—and her child had to be born as the pack's heir.

I crawled out of that dungeon, drenched in my own blood, only to find him blocking the doorway.

I knelt at his feet, clutching at his trousers, begging. "The baby is innocent. Please... just let me deliver her..."

He kicked me away in disgust. "Wait until Genevieve is done."

Later, fireworks lit up the sky. The entire pack celebrated the birth of Genevieve's heir.

I was dumped in a water cell, watching my blood slowly turn the ice-cold water crimson, feeling my daughter grow still inside me.

Only after he'd gazed adoringly at the newborn in Genevieve's arms did he finally remember me. He sent someone to fetch me from the dungeon.

But his servant returned white-faced, voice trembling:

"Alpha! The Luna... she and the baby... they're both dead!"

Nine months pregnant and about to give birth, my husband Zane locked me in the wine cellar.
All because his widowed business partner, Elena, was also giving birth today.
"You almost made Elena go into labor early. You need to think about what you've done."
Agonizing contractions wracked my body. I dropped to my knees, begging him, "Zane, please─the baby is coming now! He will die!"
He just shoved me down the cold stone steps, his eyes icy cold.
"Stop lying! Your due date isn't today. You'll do anything for attention, won't you?"
"Tonight, only Elena's safety matters. You'll stay here until you admit you were wrong!"
The heavy wooden door slammed shut, snuffing out the last bit of hope I had left.
Hours later, Zane was cradling Elena's newborn son, calling the maid.
"Elena had a boy. I couldn't be happier. Let my wife out—I'm willing to forgive her little tantrum today."
But on the other end of the phone, the maid was sobbing.
"Sir... your wife and the baby... they're already gone."