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The Mafia's Good Wife
By: Webfic all(Book II of the Mafia's Girl Series. )(AN: Please read The Mafia's Good Girl before this book!)“Before we get on with our business, there’s a bit of a paperwork you’d need to sign,” Damon said suddenly. He took out a piece of paper and pushed it towards Violet.“What’s this?” she asked.“A written agreement for the price of our sale,” Damon replied. He said it so calmly and so nonchalantly, like he wasn’t buying a girl’s virginity for one million dollars.Violet swallowed hard and her eyes began to glaze over the words on that paper. The agreement was pretty self-explanatory. It basically stated that she’d agree to this sale of her virginity for the aforementioned price and that their signatures would seal the deal. Damon already signed his part and hers was left blank.Violet looked up to see Damon handing her a pen. She came into this room with the thought of backing out, but after reading the document, Violet had another change of heart. It was one million dollars. This was more money than she could ever see in her lifetime. One night compared to that would be minuscule. One could even argue that it was a bargain. So before she could change her mind again, Violet took the pen from Damon’s hand and signed her name on the dotted line. Right as the clock struck midnight that day, Violet Rose Carvey had just signed a deal with Damon Van Zandt, the devil in the flesh.* Warning: Mature content ahead. Enter at your own risk. *
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Billionaire's Regret, Too Late!
By: Webfic all"Lucien, let's get a divorce," I said in a peremptory tone that was long overdue, the most decisive farewell to this absurd marriage.We had been married for exactly three years—three years that, for me, were filled with nothing but endless loneliness and torment.For three years, the husband who should have stood by my side through every storm, Lucien Sullivan, had completely disappeared from my life as if he had never existed. He vanished without a trace, leaving me alone to endure this empty, desolate marriage.Today, I finally received his message:"I'm back. Come pick me up at the airport."When I read his words, my heart leapt with joy, and I raced to the airport, thinking that he finally understood my love and was coming back to me. But his cruelty was far worse than I could have ever imagined—he was accompanied by a pregnant woman, and that woman was Carla, my closest and most trusted friend.In that moment, all of my previous excitement, all my hope, and all of our shared laughter and tears turned into the sharpest of daggers, stabbing into my heart and leaving me gasping for air.Now, all I want is to escape from this place that has left me so broken—to lick my wounds in solitude. Even if these wounds will remain with me for the rest of my life, I refuse to have anything to do with him ever again.He should know that it was his own hand that trampled our love underfoot, that his coldness and betrayal created this irreparable situation. But when he heard those words, he desperately clung to this broken, crumbling marriage, unwilling to let it end—almost as though doing so could rewind time and return everything to how it used to be."Aurora, come back. I regret everything!"Regret? Those simple words stirred no emotion in me—only endless sadness and fury. My heart let out a frantic, desperate scream: It's too late for any of this!
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