Added by 2 members
The mafia CEO’s child vanished without a trace.
When she was finally found, she wasn’t alone.
A gentle college girl had taken the child in — fed her, protected her, loved her.
Somewhere between bedtime stories and scraped knees, the child stopped feeling like a responsibility.
She became hers.
When the mafia boss arrived to reclaim his daughter, she refused to hand the girl over.
His smile was cold — sharp as a blade.
‘Do I really need proof that she’s my daughter? Look at her… and then look at me.’
He could have taken the child by force. He didn’t. He chose marriage instead.
On the eve of their wedding, his sister was assaulted—and leapt to her death.
The blame fell on her father.
He married her anyway.
They called it love.
She learned it was punishment—carefully designed, endlessly cruel.
On their wedding night, he burned her father’s shame into her skin.
At his sister’s grave, he forced her to kneel until her legs gave out.
When his first love fell ill, he demanded his wife’s bone marrow for her.
The day she discovered she was pregnant, he returned home, holding his first love in his arms, announcing her pregnancy.
When she told him she was carrying his child, he slid an envelope across the table.
‘Take it. End it. No child of mine will carry a rapist’s blood. You… will bear your father’s sins for as long as you breathe.’
He didn’t know she was dying—lung cancer, twenty days left to live.
Silently, she signed the divorce papers and disappeared.
‘Boss… your wife left yesterday. While you and your first love were at the hotel, celebrating your son. She signed the papers, refused alimony, and left the cheque behind,’ his assistant whispered.
A growl rose from deep in his chest.
‘Did she make a fuss?’ The pause was telling.
‘No. She left the divorce papers… and bought a one-way ticket to London.’
‘She has no job, no family, no degree… and she’s just walking away?’
‘Find her,’ he barked.
Five years later, he did.
And the little girl hiding behind her leg… had his blue eyes.
‘You… you kept our child?’ he spat.
‘I can’t walk away now,’ he roared.
He fell to his knees. ‘Loretta… allow me into your life—and our daughter’s.’
But the woman standing before him was no longer soft, no longer devoted.
She was cold. Flat.
And she felt only one thing—
the need to make him pay for every pain he had caused.
When she was finally found, she wasn’t alone.
A gentle college girl had taken the child in — fed her, protected her, loved her.
Somewhere between bedtime stories and scraped knees, the child stopped feeling like a responsibility.
She became hers.
When the mafia boss arrived to reclaim his daughter, she refused to hand the girl over.
His smile was cold — sharp as a blade.
‘Do I really need proof that she’s my daughter? Look at her… and then look at me.’
He could have taken the child by force. He didn’t. He chose marriage instead.
On the eve of their wedding, his sister was assaulted—and leapt to her death.
The blame fell on her father.
He married her anyway.
They called it love.
She learned it was punishment—carefully designed, endlessly cruel.
On their wedding night, he burned her father’s shame into her skin.
At his sister’s grave, he forced her to kneel until her legs gave out.
When his first love fell ill, he demanded his wife’s bone marrow for her.
The day she discovered she was pregnant, he returned home, holding his first love in his arms, announcing her pregnancy.
When she told him she was carrying his child, he slid an envelope across the table.
‘Take it. End it. No child of mine will carry a rapist’s blood. You… will bear your father’s sins for as long as you breathe.’
He didn’t know she was dying—lung cancer, twenty days left to live.
Silently, she signed the divorce papers and disappeared.
‘Boss… your wife left yesterday. While you and your first love were at the hotel, celebrating your son. She signed the papers, refused alimony, and left the cheque behind,’ his assistant whispered.
A growl rose from deep in his chest.
‘Did she make a fuss?’ The pause was telling.
‘No. She left the divorce papers… and bought a one-way ticket to London.’
‘She has no job, no family, no degree… and she’s just walking away?’
‘Find her,’ he barked.
Five years later, he did.
And the little girl hiding behind her leg… had his blue eyes.
‘You… you kept our child?’ he spat.
‘I can’t walk away now,’ he roared.
He fell to his knees. ‘Loretta… allow me into your life—and our daughter’s.’
But the woman standing before him was no longer soft, no longer devoted.
She was cold. Flat.
And she felt only one thing—
the need to make him pay for every pain he had caused.
Visitors also looked at these books