
Left For Dead, I Returned A Queen
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My husband, a ruthless mafia Capo, brought his pregnant mistress to our anniversary party. He then ordered me to give her a blood transfusion, knowing my heart condition could kill me. As my life drained away, I knew my nine-year marriage was finally over.
It was my ninth wedding anniversary, and I stood in an expensive gown, watching Dominick Reyes, a feared mafia Capo, celebrate with our guests. But the celebration wasn't for us; Dominick had brought Chastity, his pregnant mistress, and then publicly ordered me out of our master suite. Chastity, who had faked her pregnancy, then framed me for an attack. Dominick forced me to give a blood transfusion to Chastity, knowing my heart condition made it potentially fatal. As my blood drained from my veins, sustaining the woman who had stolen my life, I felt my consciousness fading, hoping I would not wake up.
When I woke, Dominick had already paraded Chastity to a gala. He had drained me, used me, and then abandoned me in a hospital bed, breaking his promise of a divorce. I was nothing more than a debt payment, a pawn in his brutal game. Knowing he would never truly let me go, I calmly called a trusted contact. I would disappear from his world, become someone new, and this time, Dominick Reyes would pay.
Left For Dead, I Returned A Queen Chapter 1
My husband, a ruthless mafia Capo, brought his pregnant mistress to our anniversary party. He then ordered me to give her a blood transfusion, knowing my heart condition could kill me. As my life drained away, I knew my nine-year marriage was finally over.
It was my ninth wedding anniversary, and I stood in an expensive gown, watching Dominick Reyes, a feared mafia Capo, celebrate with our guests. But the celebration wasn't for us; Dominick had brought Chastity, his pregnant mistress, and then publicly ordered me out of our master suite. Chastity, who had faked her pregnancy, then framed me for an attack. Dominick forced me to give a blood transfusion to Chastity, knowing my heart condition made it potentially fatal. As my blood drained from my veins, sustaining the woman who had stolen my life, I felt my consciousness fading, hoping I would not wake up.
When I woke, Dominick had already paraded Chastity to a gala. He had drained me, used me, and then abandoned me in a hospital bed, breaking his promise of a divorce. I was nothing more than a debt payment, a pawn in his brutal game. Knowing he would never truly let me go, I calmly called a trusted contact. I would disappear from his world, become someone new, and this time, Dominick Reyes would pay.
Chapter 1
Annis POV
I stood in the center of the ballroom wearing a forty-thousand-dollar gown, watching my husband rest his hand on another woman's pregnant belly while our guests toasted to nine years of our marriage.
The crystal flute in my hand didn't shatter. I didn't scream. I didn't throw my drink in his face.
I just took a sip of the vintage champagne -a bottle that cost more than my father's life -and I swallowed the bile rising in my throat.
Dominick Reyes was not just a husband. He was a Capo in the Olsen crime family, a man who had killed seven men before his twenty-fifth birthday and doubled the family's territory in the last three years. He was a predator in a tailored suit, and I was the debt payment his family had accepted nine years ago.
Tonight was supposed to be about us.
Instead, he had brought Chastity.
She wore red. A vibrant, blood-red silk that clung to the swell of her stomach, a stark contrast to my pale, icy blue. She looked like life. I looked like a ghost.
Dominick's hand lingered on the small of her back as he guided her through the crowd of made men and their silent wives. Every eye in the room darted between me and the mistress, hungry for the fallout.
I kept my chin high. Omerta wasn't just a code for the men. It was a cage for the women. Silence was my armor.
Dominick steered her toward me. His eyes, dark as oil and twice as slick, met mine. There was no apology in them. Only the cold, hard weight of ownership.
"Annis," he said. His voice was a low rumble that used to make my toes curl. Now it just made my stomach turn. "You remember Chastity."
I looked at the woman who was carrying the child I couldn't give him. She smirked, a small, cruel thing.
"Happy anniversary, Mrs. Reyes," she said. Her hand rested protectively over her bump. "Dom thought it would be safer if I stayed at the main estate tonight. The city is so unpredictable."
I looked at Dominick.
"Is she staying in the guest wing?" I asked. My voice was steady. I had practiced this steadiness in the mirror for two weeks, ever since I found the receipt for the crib.
Dominick took a sip of his scotch.
"No," he said. He didn't even blink. "She needs comfort. She'll take the master suite. You can take the guest quarters down the hall."
The air left the room.
He wasn't just cheating on me. He was evicting me from my own marriage bed in front of the entire organization. He was stripping me of my rank, my dignity, and my place, all without drawing a weapon.
I nodded once.
"As you wish, Dominick."
I turned to walk away, my heels clicking a hollow rhythm on the marble floor. I needed to get to the bedroom before they did. I needed the bag I had hidden inside the ventilation duct two weeks ago.
I was halfway to the corridor when I heard them laughing.
I paused near a pillar, hidden by a massive floral arrangement of white lilies-funeral flowers.
"She's such a doormat," Jake, Dominick's second-in-command, chuckled. "I bet you ten grand she apologizes to you for existing by morning."
Dominick's voice drifted over, heavy with arrogance.
"Annis knows her place. She's a good investment. Quiet. Obedient. And her father's debt is paid as long as she wears my ring. She isn't going anywhere."
I touched the platinum rosary bracelet on my wrist. It was the only thing I had left of my mother. It was the only thing Dominick hadn't bought.
I went to the master bedroom. I didn't cry. I was done crying. I pulled the small duffel bag from the vent. Cash. A burner phone. A passport in a name that didn't carry the weight of blood money.
I turned to leave, but the door handle turned.
Dominick walked in, Chastity clinging to his arm like a parasite.
"What are you doing?" Dominick asked. His eyes dropped to the bag in my hand.
"I'm moving to the guest room, like you asked," I lied.
Chastity's eyes zeroed in on my wrist.
"Oh, Dom, look," she cooed, pointing at my mother's rosary. "That bracelet. It would match my dress perfectly. And since I'm carrying the heir... shouldn't I have the family jewels?"
"It's not family jewelry," I said, my grip on the bag tightening. "It was my mother's."
Dominick didn't care about sentiment. He cared about power. And right now, giving his mistress what she wanted was a display of power.
"Give it to her, Annis," he said.
"No."
The word hung in the air. I had never said no to him. Not when he married me. Not when he forced me to cut ties with my sister. Not when he came home smelling of other women's perfume.
Dominick stepped forward. The temperature in the room dropped. He grabbed my wrist. His grip was bruising.
"You are my wife because I allow it," he whispered, his face inches from mine. "Everything you have is mine. Even the blood in your veins. Give her the bracelet."
He unclasped it with rough fingers and handed it to Chastity.
She held it up to the light, smiling. Then, looking directly at me, she pulled the delicate platinum chain taut between her hands.
"Oops," she said.
She snapped it.
The beads scattered across the hardwood floor like hail.
She gasped, dropping the broken pieces and grabbing her finger. A tiny drop of blood welled up where the metal had scratched her.
"She attacked me!" Chastity screamed, shrinking back against Dominick. "She tried to snatch it back and cut me!"
It was a lie so clumsy a child could see through it. But Dominick didn't want the truth. He wanted submission.
He shoved me. I stumbled back, hitting the wall hard.
"Apologize," he snarled.
I looked at him. I looked at the man I had spent nine years trying to please, trying to love, trying to survive.
"No," I said.
Dominick's face contorted with rage. He pointed to the door.
"Get out. Before I forget that I don't hit women."
I grabbed my bag. I didn't look at the beads on the floor. I walked out of the penthouse, down the service elevator, and out into the cool night air.
A black sedan was waiting at the curb. The window rolled down.
Haven Harper looked at me from the driver's seat. His eyes were kind. Safe.
"Get in, Annis," he said.
I opened the door. I didn't look back at the building that had been my prison. I just wanted to disappear.
Continue Reading
Left For Dead, I Returned A Queen of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5
Chapter 6 Ch. 6
Chapter 7 Ch. 7
Chapter 8 Ch. 8
Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels

7.7
Nora's life turned into a nightmare after she was banished from her pack by her own husband. She was subjected to mockery, abuse and humiliation before being cast out with nothing.
Faced with the cruelty of a world that had never once been kind to her, the moon goddess decided to bless her with her fated mate.
The same man she watched slaughter others without a single trace of mercy. The man who was twice as cold and twice as ruthless as the husband who destroyed her.
Yet he would not let her go. She found herself stuck between the husband who used her and the ruthless mate who wanted her but refused to admit it. Two powerful men. One woman who was never supposed to survive any of it. And a moon goddess who was not done with her yet.

7.9
He holds my face firmly between two hands. "Sienna, I'm not going to have you for the first time one of Maren's guest rooms when you're intoxicated."
"You're not?"
"No. It will be in my bed, and I'm going to take my time with you." His gaze falls to my lips. "Fuck Sienna, I'm going to take all night."
***
Sienna has been in love with her Alpha since she could remember.
He's rough, dangerous and the epitome of raw sex appeal. The problem is, he is her best friend, and strictly off limits.
Tradition mandates he marry a woman of noble birth, and that is not her.
She knows this is for the best, until she becomes his mistress, and things start to change. As she falls for her best friend, she must reconcile a deadly secret she has been keeping from him for years, that could change everything.
Onyx has sacrificed everything to become Alpha. So, not marrying for love shouldn't be such an issue.
His entire life he has denied his feelings for his best friend, until he is forced to take her as his mistress to grant her protection.
With threats growing against them, and when his prospective wife candidates start showing up murdered, he make some difficult decisions.
**Dual POV, friends-to-lovers, Alpha, mates, 18+**

7.9
For years, Elara Park endured being called "half-breed" and "weak blood" at pack meetings. Because she was a hybrid wolf, she trusted Zack Blackwood's sweet promises.
Then he rejected their fated mate bond moments after claiming her body.
Before she could even breathe through the soul-crushing agony, the news was already celebrating his engagement to her vindictive stepsister, Selina. The headlines gushed about their "perfect pureblooded union."
Her mother's call came like a final blow: "Elara, you're twenty-three now. It's time you contributed to the family."
Marry the worthless second son of a prominent Alpha family or lose her father's empire forever. They had her trapped, ready to steal her birthright and leave her powerless.
But as the heartbreak bled out, ice-cold determination took its place.
Elara went to the arranged meeting at the city's most exclusive club, determined to turn her mother's matchmaking scheme to her advantage. She would agree to marriage-but on her own terms.
When she found who she believed was Damian Sterling in the private suite, she cut straight to business: a contract marriage with clear boundaries, separate lives, and a guaranteed escape route.
What she didn't know? The devastatingly dangerous man who'd just signed her contract with a predator's smile wasn't the pathetic playboy she expected.
He was Dominic Wolfe-the Alpha King who'd been relentlessly hunting her for years.
And now, she'd just signed herself over to him completely.

9.6
In the two years after I married Daniel Carter, my private photos had gone viral nine times, and Daniel had been taken into custody ten times.
Because every time his mistress, Emily Morgan, was unhappy, she would leak my private photos all over the internet.
I, Claire Parker, never let it slide. I reported every shady business Daniel was involved in and personally sent him behind bars.
That lasted until an unexpected kidnapping. I took a bullet for him, one aimed straight at his heart, and he shielded me beneath his body, taking the brunt of the explosion for me.
After we survived, the man who had always been so cold-blooded knelt before me, his voice hoarse beyond recognition.
"Honey, let's leave the drama behind. I just want a peaceful life with you."
Right in front of me, he ordered his men to send his mistress out of Northhaven and never let her appear before him again.
In the third year after we reconciled, I carried my eight-month pregnant belly and brought him lunch.
But on the way there, I was hit by a car. The hospital issued three critical condition notices, yet they still could not save the baby.
Daniel rushed over, but he did not even spare me a glance. Instead, he pulled the woman who had hit me and her child into his arms, soothing her in a low voice.
"Don't be scared. I'll protect you and the child."
Only then did I realize that the woman who had hit me was the very mistress he had sent away three years ago.
When I demanded an explanation, Daniel brushed it off as if it were nothing. "She didn't do it on purpose. Don't take it out on her and her son. You can have a baby another time."
At that moment, I finally understood. They had gotten back together long ago.
I looked at him and nodded. "Don't worry, this will never happen again."

9.0
I died alone in the medical wing giving birth to our son.
"Tell her to calm down and stop the theatrics."
Those were the last words my mate, the Alpha, said about me while I bled out.
Instead of passing on, my soul was tethered to the packhouse. I was forced to watch my best friend Seraphina seamlessly step into my life, taking my baby and my husband before my body was even cold.
To secure her place, she planted my blood-soaked birthing blanket in the woods to frame me for faking my own kidnapping.
Ryker swallowed her lies completely. He refused to send a search party, telling the entire pack my disappearance was just a pathetic plea for attention and money.
As a helpless ghost, I watched Seraphina brainwash my one-year-old son into calling her his mother and teach him to joyfully trample my beloved garden.
"Bad mommy ran away. Don't love Kaelen."
Hearing my own child parrot those venomous words was a dagger to my soul.
Whenever anyone questioned my absence, Ryker fiercely defended her, dismissing the desperate warnings of my loyal friends and his own elders.
The man I loved and died for treated my memory like a malicious joke, grateful for an excuse to replace me while living with my murderer.
But when Seraphina's mask finally slipped, and the horrifying truth of my death crashed down on him, it was far too late.
Seeing him crumble in agonizing regret brought me no comfort.
I no longer wanted his love or his desperate apologies.
Now, I only wanted his absolute ruin.

8.3
Ayleen Ramirez sat in the sterile Hope Hill Fertility Clinic, her heart shattering as Dr. Finch delivered the crushing news: her third IVF cycle had failed.
Eavesdropping outside a supply closet, she overheard her husband Don on the phone, laughing cruelly. "She's a defective incubator," he sneered to his mistress Alessandra. "I never used my sperm—just cheap bank donation. No trailer trash carries a Bradley heir."
Betrayed, Ayleen confronted him, but her adoptive family ambushed her at home. Her parents and brother sided with Alessandra, now pregnant by Don, demanding Ayleen sign divorce papers to secure family investments. "You're an embarrassment," her mother snapped, threatening to cut her trust fund. Ayleen tossed back their heirloom necklace and walked out.
She stormed the Bradley mansion, slapped divorce papers on Don, packed her bags amid his aunt's insults, and fled into the night.
Drunk in a trendy bar, she stumbled into a powerful stranger—Burdette Guerrero—spilling whiskey on his crotch, then accidentally grabbed a napkin to his trousers. He shoved her away in rage.
Worse, she mistook his penthouse suite for her hotel room, bursting in on his shower, smashing a mirror in panic. He pinned her to the wall, snarling accusations.
How did this arrogant man know her name? Why demand she sign a mysterious contract at 9 a.m.? Devastated and clueless she's actually pregnant—with his stolen heir—Ayleen sobbed alone, the world crumbling.
The next morning, she straightened her spine in the Grand Guerrero lobby, ready to face him and demand answers—no matter the cost.









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