Netero Final Attack Novels & Stories

Matteo Cassimo and I are childhood sweethearts. But he gets assassinated on the day before our wedding. I cry my heart out in front of his grave to the point I faint from exhaustion. When I wake up again, I see a few live comments crossing my vision. "Poor Annie… She's still kept in the dark about the truth." "Seriously, Annie believes everything Matteo tells her. Serves her right for getting duped by Matteo's fake death." "Can someone please tell Annie that Matteo fakes his death to get rid of her, because his mistress finds out he's about to get married and decides to secretly leave him? I bet those two are being lovey-dovey with each other right now!" "Forget about it. Annie has nothing but blind trust in Matteo, after all. Maybe when he finally comes back from the 'dead,' she'll marry him happily again." One month later, the news headlines all over the papers are filled with the explosive news of the impending marriage between me and the heir of the Valente family, William Valente. That's when Matteo's subordinate confronts me. "Our Don has just passed away recently, and yet you're already planning to marry someone else?" I merely chuckle icily in return. "So what if I am? I can't just be a widow at such a young age now, can I?"

Three years ago, Lucas’ mother paid me ten million dollars to play his fated mate with the help of a potion. Lucas believed I was hopelessly in love with him. What he didn’t know was that I was nothing more than a hired actress. By day, I stood at his side during training. By night, he paraded a she-wolf through the mansion. He once sneered, “Don’t delude yourself into thinking the mate bond can change me.” I only smiled, silently counting my money. “Funny, because I never planned on giving you my heart, either.” On the day the potion wore off, I walked away with the fortune, while he spiraled into madness. Three years later, I returned victorious as the youngest S-class strategy consultant. There he was, on his knees, murmuring, “I was wrong.” Little did Lucas know that his arrogance, handed out like charity, had carried a hefty price tag of ten million. Now, even if he lost everything, it still wouldn’t be enough to buy my forgiveness.

I caught my fiancé, Nico Falcone, in bed with my own cousin, Bianca Rossi. Right before our wedding. When I confronted him, he just called the whole thing off and ran me out of New York. I didn’t see him again for five years. Then came the charity gala for the New York Families. There he was. Nico. He pulled me aside, saying he felt bad for the state I was in. He offered to make me his mistress. I told him to go to hell. He got ugly. The whole room was laughing. Whispering how an outcast like me had no business showing my face in New York. I clenched my fists, the sound of their mockery ringing in my ears. Just then, the entire ballroom went dead silent. Every head bowed in respect. Don Lucas, the most feared man in New York, was walking slowly toward us. He stopped right in front of me. With the whole room watching, he dropped to one knee. He took my hand—the one Nico had squeezed red—and kissed it. His voice was dangerously low. “Who hurt my future wife?”

At the Nightwood Clan's feast celebrating our victory over the hunters, I was accused by Julia—a fledgling freshly turned from a blood servant. The charge? Stealing fifteen crates of mana crystals and hundreds of vials of the finest rare bloods. She pointed a finger at me, her voice ringing with self-righteousness. "Are we going to let a selfish thief like her continue to control this clan's lifeblood? I propose she be thrown into the Silverwater dungeons immediately!" I looked to Joseph, the Earl of Nightwood, the man I had loved for a hundred years. He knew damn well all of it—the blood, the crystals—was mine. My gift to the clan. I needed those crystals to heal the wounds I took in the fighting, and the rare blood was the only way we could call on our allies. But the man who'd been tangled in my sheets just last night now stared at me coldly. "Julia has records of you stealing clan resources. What do you have to say for yourself?" A smirk touched my lips. "I have nothing to say." So, they thought I was some fool they could just push around. They had no idea I was a descendant of the most powerful Vampire Prince of all, Valerius. If they wanted to play games with me, they’d better be prepared for my revenge.

Five years into my marriage to the Don, Ives Moretti, he left me for dead during a shootout to get his mistress, Isabella, to safety. I woke up three days later in a private hospital room. No apology. Ives was cold. “You’re my wife. You knew the risks. Stop being so dramatic.” Then, he added, “Isabella’s different. She’s fragile. She needed me.” That was followed by three months of the silent treatment. Like always, he expected me to be the one to break, to come crawling back begging for forgiveness. Three months later, I handed the Irish deal to Isabella on a silver platter. The big one I’d spent half a year building myself. Ives thought it was a peace offering. He smiled, a rare, genuine thing these days. “I knew you’d come around. As a reward, we’ll go to Vegas. I know you’ve always wanted to go.” The next day, Isabella whined about being bored, and he broke his promise. He took her to Vegas instead. Told me it was “urgent family business.” This time, I didn’t cry. Didn’t make a scene. Ives was pleased I was being so understanding. He had no idea I was already cutting all ties to the Moretti family. That he’d already signed the divorce papers. I was free.

A major pharmaceutical company offered me a position, on one condition. I had to transfer my membership to their pack. While I was still on the fence, my boyfriend urged me to take it and promised to leave the pack with me. But the day before I submitted my withdrawal papers, he changed his mind. Outside a private room at the bar, I overheard him talking with his buddies. "You're really leaving with Serena Frost? Your Alpha father just acknowledged you. You've got a real shot at succeeding him. You'd throw all that power and status away for a woman?" Xander Blackwood let out a cold laugh. "Of course not. I've been lying to her the whole time. You know how powerful Vivienne's family is. Keeping her happy is my only shot at becoming Alpha." "I can't have Serena finding out and making a scene that wrecks my plan. Talking her into leaving the pack was the only way." Hearing it all, I felt the pain cut me wide open. Five years I had loved this man, and he had betrayed me. I turned and walked away from that room. The moment I was out the door, I reached for my father, the Alpha, through the mind-link. "Dad, I want you to pull every investment we have in Xander Blackwood's pack."

In the middle of the night, my husband started talking in his sleep. "My little treasure, Daddy's taking you and Mommy to the new house tomorrow." But we were using protection. Where the hell did a kid come from? So I opened his phone. I saw the money transfers to another woman—spent on all kinds of luxury shit and a house. The photo album had pictures of her in a skimpy stripper outfit, a little bump in her belly. The last one was an ultrasound. Four months along, it looked like. I didn't make a sound. Just saved the evidence. They were about to learn the price of betraying a mafia princess.

My fated Alpha mate wanted to indulge her lover, Victor. She planned to let him be Lead Mate for a while. So she pretended our bond was gone. She wouldn't even acknowledge me as her mate. Walking past the study, I heard Victor's smug voice. "My love, if I'm acting Lead Mate, can we mate every night? But... won't Leo get suspicious? You've been mates for five years, after all." "What's he going to do? He can't leave the pack. And he would never leave me." Elara's sneer was pure Alpha arrogance. "Leo? That fool. I told him I lost our connection, and he actually believed our bond was broken. Even if he found out the truth, he'd just quietly hand over his title and go back to being my Head Warrior. You're my only mate, darling." I stopped. I didn't storm in. A sharp pain lanced through my chest as she weakened our bond. My face was a mask. I turned and walked away. Let them think their little plan is perfect. They'll soon find out what kind of surprise this "fool" has in store for them.

Since I was a kid, my parents drilled it in—you're gonna be a Corleone girl, Giovanni Corleone's property. "This is just an alliance. Don't expect anything more." That's what he said on our wedding night. So I played the part—quiet, polished, dutiful. Then year three hit, and suddenly Giovanni couldn't keep his hands off me. Every night, something new. I thought maybe—finally—he felt the same way I had all along. Then I caught him kissing his stepmom. Funny. Just the night before, he told me kissing me made him sick. "I've been practicing with her—for your sake." So yeah. All that heat? Just rehearsal for her. So I ran. Took back my life—and our unborn daughter. The Don lost his mind looking for me. Begged me to come back—with the kid. But I would not stop for him anymore. I turned and walked straight toward the stage that was always mine.

My anxiety spiked during our wedding photoshoot. A sharp pain stabbed through my chest. My fiancé, Caius—the Falcone family heir—was helping his adoptive sister, Fiorella, try on my wedding dress. He didn't even spare me a glance. He was on one knee, focused on adjusting the lace on Fiorella’s hem. Before we’d even left the shop, Fiorella posted a selfie in the dress. She was all smiles, my fiancé standing beside her, posed like her groom. Calmly, I pulled out my phone. I sent a message to a painter I keep on retainer. "A royal portrait. The two of them. Old-world style. Use the cheapest materials you can find. I want the frame dripping with fake diamonds. Make it look like trash." I'll have it sent to Fiorella. A wedding present. The note will be simple. "A work of art as priceless as your bond. Best wishes on your wedding."