I DON'T WANT HIM BACK
Blurb: She signed the divorce papers. He never signed away his obsession.
Veronica Stanford was the perfect wife-devoted, patient, and hopelessly in love. But when her billionaire husband, Jason Harper, trades her in for her treacherous best friend, Rhea, Veronica's world shatters. Broken and betrayed, she drowns her sorrows in a bar, only to be saved by a dangerously alluring stranger with emerald-green eyes and a lethal reputation: Monte "Four" Zagcanni, the ruthless heir to a mafia empire.
Four is everything Jason isn't-dark, dangerous, and devastatingly protective. When Veronica discovers she's pregnant with Jason's child, she strikes a deal with Four: a fake marriage to shield her from scandal. But what starts as a cold arrangement ignites into a passion neither can resist.
Jason, realizing his mistake too late, wants Veronica back-along with the son he never knew existed. But Four isn't a man who surrenders what's his. And Veronica? She's done being the meek wife.
Betrayal runs deep. Revenge burns hotter.
As secrets unravel-her father's bloody past, Rhea's twisted obsession, and Jason's deadly lies-Veronica must decide: trust the man who destroyed her once, or surrender to the devil who might destroy her forever.
One wants her back. The other wants her forever.
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Chapter 4
The bar was dark, or maybe it was just my eyes being puffy from crying. I had to make sure Roberts didn't follow me because he had insisted that the bar was too rough and dangerous for someone of my status I knew he meant to say personality.
Well I didn't care anymore.
If my husband and best friend could join forces and betray me, why should I care? I sauntered over to the bartender and flashed a smile.
"Vodka please" I said and he stared at me, tilting his head to the side.
"You alright miss?" He said in a British accent and I rolled my eyes.
"Give me the damn drink" I snapped, and he nodded and pulled out a glass and vodka bottle. I grabbed the bottle and the glass.
"I'll pay for the bottle, be ready to give me more if I ask" I said and he stared at me in surprise. I guess it wasn't everyday he got a female customer in an expensive dress demanding for a drink like a sailor.
Not that I care......at least not now.
I headed over to a dark corner and settled down. A lot of interested eyes followed me, men licking lips, some were openly staring which made me wonder why Jason would ever do that to me. For a moment the emotions came flooding back and my eyes watered.
No, no. No tears
I sucked in my breath and cocked open the bottle pouring a glass of vodka in the glass cup and chugged it down my throat. I gritted my teeth a bit as the sharp taste filled my senses and I sighed. My head felt a bit light and the chatter around me suddenly felt dim.
Good.
This felt like peace, I poured a glass again and raised it to my lips.
"Miss" someone with another British accent called and I sighed..wonderful, now I was being admired by British men, why are they so much here anyway or was my head playing tricks with me.
"Yes Brit" I said and he smiled, he wasn't bad looking but not handsome either and his eyes were a rough blue and from his face I could tell he was a proper hooligan, but for some reason, or rather for a reason I didn't seem to care.
"Can I sit?" He asked indicating to the chair across mine and I grinned at him.
"Of course Blud" I said faking an accent, "You can"
He smiled at me as he sat and poured himself a drink without permission and I just smiled.
"Vodka" he said simply, inhaling before drinking. "Good drink"
"Yes it is" I said, sipping mine. I stared at him, "Why are you here?" I said, I never would have asked bluntly on a normal day but things weren't normal with me right now.
"You're beautiful, sexy, everything a man wants" he answered simply and I chuckled bitterly.
"Everything a man wants?" I said, trying so hard not to be hysterical, "Are you fucking with me?" I said dangerously close to annoyance not at him but for everything that's happened.
He leaned forward and not even backing down.
"Yes, I would fuck you now if you would let me" he said and at first anger was my reaction, then I was reminded of my loyalty to Jason but I stopped. Why should I remain loyal to the man who had no right to deserve my loyalty? Why should I even refuse a man who really wanted me, thug or not? And this was my chance to forget all that had happened, maybe sex is all I need.
"Alright" I said with a drunk grin as I took another sip, the drink going straight to my head.
"Alright?" He echoed and I smiled at him, suddenly happy.....the damn drink.
"Alright, I'll let you do it, what's your name?" I said and he raised a brow then he grinned.
"Good girl. The name's Tom" he said, he stood and pulled me up. He started to lead me upstairs but suddenly our path was blocked by a...
Oh my God was I seeing things.
The man in front of us was tall, maybe six foot eight, his green eyes looked like a mini stormy sea. He was well built and there was his face, in my drunken state I could register it but I was very well aware of how handsome he was....very handsome.
"I want that one...." I slurred and the man in front of us, frowned.
"She's drunk mate, let her be" his voice was soothing deep and I closed my eyes as it ran through my bones.
"Why, so you can fuck her yourself?" Tom asked and the man in front of us didn't even react.
"No, not like you Tom, like I said...Fuck off" he said and Tom scowled gripping my hand or tight it hurt.
"Or what?" he growled and the other man laughed. He reached for his waistband and Tom's eyes widened and he dropped my hand, and raised his.
"Whoa I am sorry mate" he said backing up, "I'll leave now"
"Scot" the man said and Tom ran off. He watched Tom go then he turned to me.
"Hey baby" I flashed a grin and he didn't even smile back, he picked me up in his arms and headed outside the pub.
I groaned and thrashed in his arms, "Hey my drink, I need it please" I said and he shook his head.
"No"
"Please" I begged, near tears. "You don't understand, I need it or......" I stopped and his green eyes suddenly rested on mine and even in my bold drunken state I looked away suddenly shy.
"Or...?"
"Or I'll remember" I said and he nodded. I could see in his eyes that he knew what I was talking about or had an idea.
"Alright let's take you home" he said and I stared at him in surprise.
"Home?" I asked and he dropped me in the backseat of his car.
"Shhh" he said and without warning covered my face with a bandana, I felt myself going weak and my eyes widened.
"You....." I started and he pressed harder and suddenly I went limp.
"Night night" he said before my world went dark.
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9.0
Ashlyn was supposed to be just a fragile college student, selling her rare blood to a vicious crime syndicate enforcer to keep his dying sister alive.
But the dynamic shattered when Alex returned from a two-month disappearance. He stepped into the penthouse covered in dirt and blood, sporting a horrific, jagged knife wound slashed completely across his face.
Knowing exactly how to exploit his insecurities, Ashlyn played the role of the terrified victim to perfection. She screamed, pushed against his chest, and called him a terrifying monster. Humiliated and enraged by her blatant disgust, Alex violently smashed a marble table and kicked her out. He forced her out into a freezing, torrential rainstorm without a coat, vowing to kill her if she ever showed her face again.
What the ruthless enforcer didn't know was that her pathetic, trembling tears were a flawless, calculated lie. She wasn't a helpless, greedy girl. She was a cold-blooded corporate mastermind hiding from a family of elite assassins. She desperately needed his impenetrable penthouse fortress to stay alive, and she knew the only way to secure her place wasn't to ask for it, but to make him beg for her return.
Three days later, his sister's organs began to fail, and the hospital's blood bank ran dry.
"I'll pay you whatever you want. Just get here."
Listening to the desperate, broken voice of the monster over her burner phone, Ashlyn smiled coldly in the dark. The trap had snapped shut, and he had just handed her all the power.
8.0
"IS IT TRUE?" Grayson's voice thundered through the room.
"Yes!" Tessa said softly. "Yes it is!"
"So you've been cheating on me, haven't you?" He spat.
Her hands trembled. "No, I swear, it's not like that."
He grabbed her arm, his grip bruising her wrist as she squealed in pain.
"Then whose baby are you carrying, huh?" His voice was ice cold.
Tessa shivered, tears blurring her vision.
"I don't know."
**********
Pregnant with the powerful Roman Blackwood's child, while engaged to his unstable stepbrother - Tessa Quinn becomes the key to a ruthless inheritance war where love has no place.
As secrets unravel and danger closes in, Tessa must protect her unborn child while trapped between love, vengeance, and men who want to own her fate.
7.4
I thought my life was over when my sister died, leaving me to raise her two babies in a world that wanted to swallow us whole. Then I made the mistake of a lifetime: I left a bold, humiliating voicemail for the one man I should have feared most.
Anton Oryolov.
The ruthless king of the Oryolov Bratva. A billionaire monster who rules the city with ice in his veins and blood on his hands.
I expected him to fire me. I expected him to destroy me. Instead, he gave me a choice that felt like a death sentence: sign a contract and become his.
The rules were simple. I belong to him. I live in his shadows. In exchange, he protects the children. But as the doors of his mansion locked behind me, I realized the "forced proximity" wasn't just a business arrangement. It was a cage.
He thinks he can use me as a pawn in his dark mafia games. He thinks the children are just leverage to keep me in line. But he's starting to look at me with a hunger that isn't in the contract, and I'm seeing a man beneath the monster that I never expected to find.
In the Cruel Paradise of the Bratva, loyalty is a lie and love is a weakness. Our deal is signed in ink, but it's going to end in blood.
He owns my signature. He owns my safety. Now, he wants my soul.
7.1
For seven years, I was the architect of my fiancé's criminal empire and the strategist behind his every move. I was Dante Gallo’s unofficial Consigliere, his partner in everything but name. Tomorrow, I was finally supposed to marry him and take my place as the queen to his throne.
But on the eve of our wedding, a single text message sent by mistake detonated my life. It was a photo from Dante, showing a platinum wedding band on his hand. The message read: “Married this morning. She’s safe now.”
My gaze fell to the engagement ring on my own finger. It was the identical band, just smaller. The engraved initials ‘D.I.’ didn’t stand for Dante and I. They stood for Dante and Isabella—his childhood sweetheart. My entire relationship was a lie; I was just a shield to protect his one true love.
He dismissed my discovery as a "tantrum." Then, his new bride began taunting me, sending a picture of them tangled in bedsheets with the caption: "Loser." They expected me to break. They thought I would shatter.
They were about to find out just how wrong they were. I forwarded the picture to Isabella’s fiancé, a man far more dangerous than Dante. "Your fiancée is in Suite 8808 at the Grand Hyatt," I told him. "I'll meet you downstairs. We're going to crash their party."
8.0
After fifteen years of marriage and a brutal battle with infertility, I finally saw two pink lines on a pregnancy test. This baby was my victory, the heir that would finally secure my place as the wife of mob capo Marco Vitiello. I planned to announce it at his mother's party, a triumph over the matriarch who saw me as nothing but a barren field.
But before I could celebrate, my friend sent me a video. The headline read: "MOB CAPO MARCO VITIELLO'S PASSIONATE NIGHTCLUB KISS!" It was him, my husband, devouring a woman who looked like a younger, fresher version of me.
Hours later, Marco stumbled home, drunk and reeking of another woman's perfume. He complained about his mother begging him for an heir, completely unaware of the secret I held. Then my phone lit up with a text from an unknown number.
"Your husband slept with my girl. We need to talk."
It was signed by Dante Moretti, the ruthless Don of our rival family.
The meeting with Dante was a nightmare. He showed me another video. This time, I heard my husband's voice, telling the other woman, "I love you. Elara... that's just business." My fifteen years of loyalty, of building his empire, of taking a bullet for him-all dismissed as "just business."
Dante didn't just reveal the affair; he showed me proof that Marco was already stealing our shared assets to build a new life with his mistress. Then, he made me an offer.
"Divorce him," he said, his eyes cold and calculating. "Join me. We'll build an empire together and destroy him."
8.9
I walked in on my fiancé sleeping with my maid of honor...
On the day of our wedding.
I did what anyone would do:
Threw my ring in his face and found somewhere quiet to cry.
But then something else happened.
Something unexpected.
In that quiet place...
Someone found me.
Anton Stepanov is like something out of a dream.
Scratch that: out of a nightmare.
He's rich as sin, arrogant as heck, and way too handsome for his own good.
He's also way too handsome for mine.
So when he offers me his hand and a way out of the worst day of my life, I do the only thing I can do:
I say yes.
That's how I ended up on his yacht.
That's how I ended up in his bed.
That's how I ended up pregnant with his baby.