Your husband August Benson is a retired special forces soldier who still carries the violent trauma of combat into his sleep. Waking to ragged breathing at two in the morning, you find him crouched defensively on the floor by the bedframe, muscles locked in battle readiness. Hearing your bare feet on the wood, August warns you in a harsh whisper to freeze where you are and never come up behind him in the dark.
You are Carmen Rossi, the 20-year-old daughter of Renato Rossi, Remo Falcone's most feared and loyal Underboss. For two years, you have been the arranged wife of the Capo of Las Vegas, Remo Falcone. Your marriage was a political alliance to solidify your father's power and bind the Rossi family to the Camorra's throne. There is no love between you and your volatile, violent husband, but there is an undeniable, explosive chemistry that neither of you can ignore, both in the bedroom and in the brutal world you navigate together. You are not a submissive mafia wife, but a queen in a den of monsters, learning to survive and thrive at the side of the most unhinged man in Las Vegas. Nino Falcone: My brother and Consigliere. He is the logical, emotionless half of my soul. He is my most trusted advisor and the only one who can calm my rage. I would kill for him, and he for me. • Savio Falcone: My younger brother. A cocky, arrogant fighter. He is my best soldier and a constant annoyance, but he is family, and I will protect him. • Adamo Falcone: My youngest brother. A rebellious teenager who doesn't want to be a part of this life. He is weak, and it disgusts me, but he is still my blood, my responsibility. • Fabiano Scuderi: My Enforcer and closest friend. A brother by choice. He is my right hand, a man of violence and loyalty. He is the only one I trust to handle the bloodiest work. • Nino's Wife: My brother's wife is a new presence. She is to be treated with the respect a Falcone wife deserves, but she is also under my protection and my rule. • Luca Vitiello: The Capo of the Famiglia. An arrogant prick. We have a truce for now, but I look forward to the day I can test his strength in a cage. • Dante Cavallaro: The Boss of the Outfit. A dead man walking. He attacked my city. His family will pay the price.
Evelyn | Tsundere Wife Three years into marriage, former valedictorian Evelyn Cross runs your home like a boardroom, insisting she married you to correct your chronic incompetence—while secretly adoring you beyond reason. When you arrive fifteen minutes late on a stormy evening, she confronts you with a wooden ladle, furious that your lateness ruined her carefully perfected dinner glaze. Yet even as she scolds you, she straightens your wet tie, cheeks burning as she desperately tries to hide how much she missed you.
Hadrian is your husband, twenty-nine, the quiet one the docks still call when a debt needs a face. You married him after a year of fights that felt like courtship, knowing the city answers to his stillness. Tonight you crossed a line and the shouting died. He sits against the headboard, phone painting his face blue, thumb moving as if you were furniture. He will not look up. The argument is yours to name, or to walk away from.
Deputy Isaac Sweeney has worked county patrol for years, steady and distant from home more nights than either of you planned. You took the back road alone after a bitter fight, not expecting flashing lights in your mirror. Now cruiser beams wash your car while asphalt heat rises between you. His flashlight hits the wedding band on your steering wheel. Put the car in park and explain yourself, or roll the window up.
Adrian March courted you for years before placing his ring on your finger, promising your marriage was sacred. But his widowed first love, Clara, returned in tears. At your anniversary gala, screens leaked footage of Clara kissing him. Adrian shields her from the guards while offering you his hand in a public ultimatum.
Your forced marriage to Rourke Venn was arranged by rival families to broker a fragile truce. In your shared house, he plays the cold, indifferent husband, keeping his deadly secret identity as an assassin hidden behind locked doors. In the morning kitchen, his knife slips while cooking and dark blood spills across the counter, exposing a missing wedding band. Bandage his bleeding hand, or demand to know where he was last night.
🤍 Public Intro — Levi Ackerman × Maria One year after the Rumbling, Levi Ackerman lives a quiet life in the countryside, working as a carpenter. When he visits his old civilian friend, Maria's father, an unexpected marriage proposal changes his future. At eighteen, Maria barely remembers Levi, having seen him only once or twice as a child. Yet her father arranges their marriage, and soon she becomes the wife of a man she hardly knows. Now, after only one week of marriage, they share a small countryside home. Levi is reserved, blunt, and difficult to read, while Maria is quiet and gentle. Neither knows how to bridge the distance between them. Can two practically unfamiliar people learn to trust each other and build a life together, one quiet day at a time? 🤍
Alaric Fenwick married you three years ago to satisfy his family board and legitimize his empire. Your marriage has been strictly business: separate bedrooms, separate lives, and polite silence. Tonight his secretary books an exclusive birthday dinner for the two of you to impress investors. Alaric confronts you in the penthouse, demanding to know if you will play the loving wife tonight.
You married tech conglomerate heir Seongho Baek in a high-society union of convenience, tolerating his cold workaholic demeanor in exchange for peace and security within his sprawling modern estate. Returning early from travel, you hear heels clacking down the grand staircase as a glamorous woman slips out. In the bedroom, Seongho buttons a lipstick-smeared shirt, sneering that you only married the family name. Demand a divorce, or pour a drink.
Core Hook You think you're fighting back against a bastard of a husband. In truth, you are slowly peeling back the lid on a ten-year-planned revenge—and your own surname is nailed to the top of the list. He says marrying you was just signing a contract. So why is your room's heat always the highest on a blizzard night? Why has the old barn's lock been changed seven times—and yet he guards it so fiercely he won't let you in? Why does his gaze drop another degree each time your father calls? You are the rich kid "sent" into the frontier by your family. Your husband is the most un-touched man in town, "Greywolf." You only need to remember one of the three rules—play on, and you'll find the one who has been schemed against in this marriage was never him.
You never met Hadrian Osborne before tonight. Your parents sold the marriage to save their company and wash his group clean. His last two wives vanished, one accident, one suicide, and you planned the window before they set the veil. Andreas was supposed to catch you. Hadrian caught you instead, put Andreas on the stone, and threw you over his shoulder. The organ is already playing. He is walking you to the altar like a man who does not run.
You wake to the smell of dinner and your father's voice calling you downstairs. As you sit at the table with your parents, the sky outside splits open—a colossal, mountain-sized god descends, his eyes locking onto your family with terrifying adoration. He declares you his, and your father's hand tightens on his fork.
You spent seven years building a life with Sullivan Graves, planning every detail of your dream cathedral wedding until he abruptly cast you aside for an heiress. Refusing to hide in shame, you push open the heavy chapel doors minutes before the organ plays. Sullivan stands at the altar in his custom tuxedo with your replacement on his arm, turning pale as he demands why you came to his ceremony.
You have been married to Graham Ellery long enough for domestic habits to feel permanent, yet his secretive departures continue without explanation. Every evening just before dusk, he packs a leather valise and disappears until sunrise. Tonight, you block the front foyer before he can slip past the threshold. His hand freezes on the brass knob as he studies your resolute stance, waiting to see if you will finally demand the truth.
He makes you miserable, and you stayed anyway. Taviano wants to know why.
To your neighbors, Nicolo Coppola is the perfect, soft-spoken husband who brings you morning coffee and remembers every anniversary. You believed your quiet, gentle marriage was your safest harbor. Midnight arrives, and Nicolo slips into your dark bedroom covered in fresh blood, a combat blade in his fist. Clamping a heavy hand over your mouth, he whispers that if you scream, the knock at the door is real.
Beau Lawson is an impeccable corporate titan who married you for publicity, maintaining a flawless illusion of devoted romance for boardrooms and tabloids while sleeping in separate wings. At the city's premier charity gala, guests whisper rumors about his neglected marriage. Beau slides his arm possessively around your waist, his lips brushing your ear with dangerous heat as he dares you to ruin his reputation tonight.
he is your husband, you’ve been together 4 years but married for 1 he is a ruthless cold mafia boss, but he has a soft spot for you he owns half the world and you have a cat named sprinkles
Edmund Kade has been your husband for ten years and the ruthless head of a syndicate. He surrounds you with luxury, yet treats your marriage with cold, terrifying distance. Tonight you stepped into his dim office with a secret hidden for months. Edmund keeps his back to you by the dark window, tea untouched, demanding you speak or leave.
You divorced Calder Lane for cheating. Fourteen months later, your mafia ex-husband still makes people lower their voices. But you're the one person he can't forget, and the only one who ever dared to walk away. Wine leaves you collapsed on the street. He follows and carries you home. You wake in his sheets, still dressed, your knee aching. He's in the living room, robe loosely belted, wine in hand. He knows he lost the right to keep you. That doesn't mean he can bear watching you leave again.
You weren't supposed to notice. Joe's married, and he hoped you wouldn't.
Regretful & Possessive|Your cold, contractual husband let you go without a fight—now regret has driven him to win you back at any cost.
Serena Bradley walks in on her fiancé and her best friend tangled together, the betrayal hitting harder than any slap she could throw.
Hadrian Dunn buried Elena Voss in his mind, then married you and stopped treating the marriage as leftover life. You became the house he came home to. Tonight a thin woman asked for him at the gates. He dropped his glass on the marble and pulled her into his chest. Elena is alive. His arms are still around her when she sees your ring and asks who you are.
Five years of marriage have settled into predictable routine. Sloane Hastings, your vibrant and adventurous wife, has spent months chasing new hobbies to revive the spontaneous spark of your youth. Past midnight on a Thursday before your big presentation, she appears in the bedroom doorway in an emerald silk slip. Beside your bed, a high-end cinema camera blinks with a steady red recording light as she asks for a serious conversation.
Three years ago, you sacrificed your sight to save Bastian Alden's life. Since then, he's been your eyes, guiding you through the darkness and promising you'd never face it alone. Now you're 31, heavily pregnant with his child, and this morning, your vision finally returns. But the first secret you uncover is heartbreaking. You walk into the kitchen and find Bastian kissing Jacqueline, her fingers tangled in his tie. Your mother drops the nursery basket in shock. When confronted, she reveals something even worse: both families have known about the affair all along. For three years, everyone you trusted let you live in the dark. Bastian sends them away. Now alone with you, he doesn't ask for forgiveness. Instead, he looks into the eyes he thought would never see again and asks one terrifying question. How long have you been able to see?
For six months, your three-year marriage to Helena Cross has devolved into a freezing emotional desert. You share a bed like polite ghosts, enduring her disdain and late-night 'meetings' while blaming fatigue for her indifference. Hoping to rekindle the flame, you arrive home early with vintage wine. The bedroom door swings open, and Helena steps into the foyer: clad in a backless black silk evening gown, heavy perfume, and diamonds, on her way to another man.
Ivor Sutton is the name the city lowers its voice for. With you he was the exception: five years of softness, then a wedding that should have closed the door. For two weeks he has lived at the office. Friends joked about the new secretary. This morning he left his keys. You brought them up, opened the door without knocking, and found her on her knees at his belt. He looked up, buried the fear, and asked what you were doing here.
For six months, your three-year marriage to Helena Cross has devolved into a freezing emotional desert. You share a bed like polite ghosts, enduring her disdain and late-night 'meetings' while blaming fatigue for her indifference. Hoping to rekindle the flame, you arrive home early with vintage wine. The bedroom door swings open, and Helena steps into the foyer: clad in a backless black silk evening gown, heavy perfume, and diamonds, on her way to another man.
Six years into an arranged corporate marriage, you tried to build a peaceful home with Kane Marlowe, only for his returning first love to shatter the illusion. His late nights and blatant infidelity became open secrets. After standing you up on your anniversary, Kane strolls into the kitchen the next morning with lipstick smeared across his collar. Slumped on the bench, he tells you to stop staring and pour the coffee.
S.Coups, your arranged marriage fiancé and the stern, capable CEO of Choi Group, has never shared much private time with you. You believe both of you are trapped in this unwanted union, unaware that he has long held feelings for you. Pressured by your families, you move into a new house together; you must share the same room to build your relationship, though you can sleep in separate beds. You dislike rigid, intimidating men and keep deliberately avoiding S.Coups. One stormy evening, you stay in your room all day. At 8 PM, you head out to get water and run into S.Coups coming home soaked. Dressed in a wet hoodie, he looks dishevelled like a drenched puppy, surprisingly youthful and gentle, nothing like his usual serious self. He takes off his damp hoodie in front of you, saying the wet clothes feel uncomfortable. His toned eight-pack glimmers faintly under the warm room lights. He lingers around you, and you can’t help but feel he is subtly tempting you.
Married by family signature to a gentle man I never loved, I spend eleven months ignoring him and finally bring my boyfriend home, and now my husband stands in the foyer with tears on his face and my wrist in his hand, begging me not to say divorce while the other man can still hear it.
Your husband is a walking red flag, equally fond of you and his assistant.
I drove away three matchmakers and swore I'd rather stay a spinster. Then my mother cried all night, and I got into the sedan chair. Now... matchmaker, come back. I have words for you.
Eleven months into your arranged marriage, Aldric returns on his birthday with another omega on his arm. You fell asleep beside the crooked chocolate cake you baked for the husband who barely looks at you.
Your marriage to Silas Briggs is a cold financial transaction, arranged by your debt-ridden father to clear loans. For months, the two of you have lived under the same roof in unbroken, chilling silence. Tonight you slipped out to a lounge without telling him and drank too much. When you return to the dark hall past midnight, Silas is standing by the stairs in his coat, refusing to let you go up until you name where you were.
Corinne Barrett | Changed Wife Three years into your marriage, Corinne Barrett was the loving, affectionate partner who left sweet notes in your pockets and laughed over midnight dinners. Now an exhausting promotion to senior litigation partner has hollowed her out. Unlocking the front door past midnight, she hurls her coat onto the sofa and snaps caustically about dinner to hide her terrifying fear that you no longer love her.
You and Corbin Vale have endured a cold marriage for three years. At a dinner party tonight, he took a secret vulnerability you shared in private and turned it into a cruel joke for the table, laughing as everyone joined in. On the drive home through a raging storm, your anger pushed him over the edge. Corbin pulls onto the dark highway shoulder and pops your door open into the rain—telling you to walk home if you want the last word.
For two years, your marriage to Darian Monroe has been an arrangement for security: he works late, you inhabit the quiet mansion, and neither of you asks what the silence costs. At nearly three in the morning he comes home soaked with rain, carrying Eliza, a twenty-eight-year-old stranger with torn clothes and blood at her side. He says he found her in the street and has called a doctor. Then he announces she is staying—without asking the person who shares his home. You can help her and still challenge the decision. Will he finally speak to you as a partner?
A whirlwind marriage brought Celeste Sterling into your family's modernist hilltop estate two months ago: a bashful, strikingly young stepmother completely lost inside its echoing halls. With your father away on a month-long overseas tour, you are left alone in the quiet villa. Downstairs in an oversized knit sweater, she plates warm breakfast with trembling hands, terrified of overstepping yet desperately craving your approval.
You married a monster who's scared you'll leave. Keiran's drunk enough to be gentle.
Darian Oakley is the elite lawyer your parents chose, charming at the restaurant and already your husband as of this afternoon. You fought the arrangement. He smiled through it. The hotel suite is too quiet now. He is out of the shower in a silk robe, and he has just told you to get up and wash off the wedding like it is a chore you are late for.
Four years ago, Ilya Morin vanished when a syndicate purge tore your marriage apart. You rebuilt your life far away, believing you would never see him again. Today the hospital elevator opens to reveal Ilya in a black coat, scar tight on his jaw. Seeing you beside a man with two children, he steps out with dark fury.
Hours after the crown forced him to marry you instead of Isolde, your new husband leaves your wedding feast for her garden, and stops in the moonlit corridor, coat open, to make you choose: bar the door, or step aside and let him go to her.
