A Devil's Deal With Mafia Tycoon
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I found out my husband of three years had cheated on me and his mistress is the one who told me-because he didn't have the balls to do it himself.
I move out and get a new apartment, a job as a bartender, and try to move on with a broken heart. I wonder where it all went wrong, if I hadn't been enough for him, if I'd been stupid for marrying him in the first place.
I'm at work one night when he walks inside-the most beautiful man I've ever seen. He sits at the bar and a forest fire burns between us. I was depressed the moment before he entered, but the second I look at his blue eyes, I forget the dumpster fire that my life has become. I invite him back to my place and it's the most passionate night of my life. I expect to never see him again.
I just want him as an anti-depressant-but he wants me all to himself. I just got my heart ripped out of my chest so I want something easy and no-strings-attached, but he wants all the strings because he's hooked.
I don't get much of a say in the matter, and that's not surprising when I learn why-because he's the Butcher. The crime lord of all crime lords, the boss that overshadows all of Paris, that makes everyone abide by his rules-or pay.
And now I'm his.
A Devil's Deal With Mafia Tycoon Chapter 1
Fleur
I entered the building, walked up the five flights of stairs because the elevator had been busted since I moved in, and then got my key in the lock. The door opened, and I entered my small apartment, the one-bedroom flat with a kitchen that also served as a laundry room. I flicked on the light switch and then gave a small jump at the sight of the man sitting in the armchair like a goddamn gargoyle. "Jesus..." I gave my keys a squeeze before I tossed them on the table and set my purse down. "I told you to stop doing that."
He continued to sit there with his elbows on his knees, his shoulders broad in his jacket, his eyes down on his fingers as he gripped his phone. It took him a moment to lift his chin and look at me, his hazelnut eyes full of self-loathing. "If you don't want me here, then pick up your fucking phone."
"I don't have to do anything, Adrien." It was nearly two in the morning, but the City of Lights still had people on every corner, riding their bikes to the opposite side of town or smoking in the cafés downstairs. Au Pied de Cochon was right near my apartment, one of the few restaurants in Paris that basically never locked their doors or turned off their lights because it was open almost twenty-four hours. I'd eaten there a couple times after my shift, but mostly just to wind down with a cigarette.
He rose to his feet, in dark jeans and a leather jacket, raindrops visible on the material like it had sprinkled on him during his walk from the car. He left the green armchair and came close to where I stood by the round dining table, which held a vase full of flowers that I'd grabbed from the market yesterday. "I found a marriage counselor-"
"I don't want to go to counseling," I snapped. "I want a divorce." I'd asked for a divorce the moment I'd discovered his infidelity, a treason he didn't even have the balls to tell me himself. But he'd made that request impossible to grant. Made me jump through endless hoops, just to get rejected by the court-because he'd paid everyone off.
"We're Catholic. We don't believe in divorce-"
"So you fucked around under the assumption I would never leave?"
"That's not what I mean."
"I don't want to make this marriage work. I'm a fine piece of ass who doesn't need this shit. I want a man who keeps his word and is so brutally honest that it's almost cruel. You are not that man, Adrien."
The anger flickered across his face, but he tightened the reins on his rage. "I made a mistake. I told you it wasn't an affair. She meant nothing to me."
"But she was worth your marriage?"
His nostrils flared, but he still didn't yell like he normally would. "There was a lot of shit going on at work and I had too much wine to drink, and she came on to me. I had a moment of weakness. I'm fucking human."
I rolled my eyes. "More like a Neanderthal."
His desperate eyes were locked on mine. "I said I was sorry about a million times."
"I don't want an apology. I want a divorce. I want you to stop popping up in my apartment like you still own me."
"You're still my wife-"
"Fuck you."
He drew in a slow breath and closed his eyes briefly. "You wouldn't be this angry if you didn't still love me."
"I'm just an angry person, Adrien."
"You're a passionate person, Fleur. There's a difference," he said. "It happened once, and it won't happen again. I will do anything you want to make this work because, despite what you think, I love you with everything I have."
I stepped away because I didn't want to look at him anymore. Rain started to pelt the windows and the skylight above the kitchen. The curtains were open, and the light from the lampposts illuminated the city and the wet pavement in the rain.
"Fleur."
I kept my back to him.
"I'll never give you a divorce. Every time you submit your paperwork, the judge will deny it. You will never remarry because your marriage to me will remain intact. The only way I'll lift those restrictions is if you try to make this work."
I continued to look out the window.
"If you work on this marriage with me."
I crossed my arms over my chest, and I felt the cold from the windowpane. I could see my reflection as a faint outline. The city below was so beautiful, but it was hard to appreciate it when I felt so low. I never shed a tear in front of him. I turned to the feeling that was the easiest to feel-which was anger. "Were there others?"
"No." His answer was quick, almost too quick.
I turned around and faced him, studying his hard eyes. His hair was dark like espresso, and his eyes were warm like hazelnut. His Italian ancestry was visible on his skin, and he spoke both French and Italian, one of the things that had attracted me to him. Marriage was such a profound experience that changed everything, and my marriage had left all kinds of scars. Even when we were so far apart, I still felt attached to him. But I didn't want to be attached to him. "Were there others?"
His eyes flinched slightly when I asked the question again, a subtle hesitation. "No."
I studied his face, searching for a hint of a lie and unsure how to decipher what I saw. But I knew that I shouldn't even have to ask the question, that I shouldn't have to wonder if it was a lie or the truth. "I need to think."
"There was no one else-"
"I need space, Adrien. Stop blowing up my phone and lurking in my apartment like a goddamn stalker so I can have two seconds to think." I turned back to the window and watched a water drop streak to the bottom and disappear.
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A Devil's Deal With Mafia Tycoon of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 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
7.5
To save my family's dying company, I was forced to marry a billionaire I hadn't seen in fourteen years.
But right outside the City Clerk's office, he tossed our marriage certificate at me like a cheap receipt and shoved a four-year-old boy into my arms.
"Your new life has begun. You're on babysitting duty now."
He sneered and left me stranded on the sidewalk. I realized with absolute horror that my new husband was Ellsworth Marshall, the sickly boy I had relentlessly bullied in middle school.
He didn't spend five billion dollars to save the Bradford family. He bought me to execute a slow, suffocating revenge.
He used his orphaned nephew as a pawn, explicitly threatening my father that if I failed to play the perfect, compliant nanny, he would instantly destroy our family's legacy.
He even had his guards lock me out of his Long Island estate on my first night, forcing me to stand in the cold dark just to prove he owned me.
I was trapped in a gilded cage, suffocated by the guilt of my past and the terror of my present.
Why did he involve an innocent child in his twisted vendetta? How much humiliation was enough to pay for my childhood cruelty?
Looking at the terrified little boy clinging to my skirt, I tightened my grip on my suitcase.
If he wanted to destroy my will piece by piece, I had to find a way to survive the monster I created.
9.2
She loved him until she lost herself.
Now, behind locked doors and shattered glass, she must learn to breathe again.
When she first met Lloyd, he was magnetic and intoxicating. The kind of man who turned every head when he entered a room, who spoke in promises sweet enough to taste. With him, she felt chosen, cherished, and safe.
But safety was an illusion, and love became a weapon.
And slowly, piece by piece, he dismantled her until nothing of the woman she once was remained.
Now institutionalized after a breakdown, she begins to piece together the brutal truth of what really happened in the shadows of their love story. Memories sting like open wounds: the manipulation disguised as tenderness, the apologies that blurred into threats, the desperate hope that tomorrow he'd be the man she fell for again.
Yet beneath the grief and the shame, a quiet rebellion stirs, a vow to reclaim her voice, her freedom, and her life. Because this is not just a story of how she fell apart. It is a story of how she rises.
Haunting, raw, and achingly intimate, Boys like him peels back the glittering mask of a toxic love affair to reveal the kind of darkness that hides in plain sight, and the unbreakable strength it takes to escape it.
7.6
To pay for her father's life support, Haleigh sold herself into a marriage with Fabian Blackburn, a ruthless billionaire in a deep coma.
But on her wedding day, she caught her boyfriend cheating with her stepsister, laughing about how they would steal the inheritance the second Fabian stopped breathing. Cornered and desperate, Haleigh secretly underwent IVF using her comatose husband's frozen sperm to secure the family trust.
Weeks later, a miracle happened. Fabian woke up.
But instead of gratitude, he treated her like trash. He threw annulment papers at her face, completely disgusted by the arranged marriage.
"If you try any dirty tricks to get pregnant, I will personally drag you to a clinic and have that bastard scraped out of you."
Terrified, Haleigh hid her positive pregnancy test and desperately tried to hack her way to enough cash to escape. But while using his computer, she accidentally opened a highly classified folder.
Inside was a medical file and a photo of a severely disabled girl who looked exactly like Fabian.
Before she could process it, Fabian walked in. Seeing the screen, his cold mask shattered into pure, unhinged madness. He lunged across the room, lifting her off the floor by her throat, completely ignoring her desperate gasps for air.
"Lock her in the basement," he roared to his guards. "No food. No water."
Curled on the freezing concrete, clutching her newly pregnant belly, Haleigh didn't understand what she had just seen that turned him into a murderous monster.
But she knew one thing: if she didn't escape this terrifying estate, both she and his unborn heir would die in the dark.
8.2
When our family empire crumbled, my sister and I were sold off as collateral to the Chicago Outfit.
My fierce sister Frankie was forced to marry Damien Moretti, the terrifying Don. I was shackled to his brother Leo, a notorious, degenerate playboy.
I thought my life was over, but the real nightmare began on our wedding night. A terrified maid handed me the wrong room key. Exhausted and numb, I crawled into a dark honeymoon suite, praying my new husband would be too drunk to find me.
Instead, the heavy door opened, and a man fueled by a drug-laced drink stepped in. He was ruthless, punishing, and entirely stripped away my dignity in the pitch black.
When the morning light finally broke, I turned my head, expecting to see Leo's boyish face. Instead, I saw a profile carved from ice.
Damien Moretti. The Don. My sister's husband.
The very man who had previously called me a "liability" and ruined my life. When he realized who I was, his eyes filled with absolute, chilling disgust. He dragged me out of the ruined sheets, threw me onto the floor of a freezing shower, and demanded to know why I had sneaked into his suite.
"You ruined me. How am I supposed to look at Frankie? You should have just killed me. Kill me now, Damien. It would be a mercy compared to this."
I sobbed, the freezing water mingling with my tears. He just stared down at me with cold, unreadable intent. I was now trapped in a house of monsters, carrying the Don's darkest secret, and I had to figure out how to survive without destroying my sister.
7.4
I was only fifteen when my venomous family orchestrated my doom by forcing me into an arranged marriage with mafia heir Javier Velasquez.
On our wedding night, Javier paraded strippers into our suite to show his absolute contempt, turning me into the ultimate joke of the underworld overnight.
But being a joke was a luxury compared to what came next.
Three years later, Javier needed to be a widower to marry into a heavily armed family and secure their backing for a coup.
He didn't grant me the mercy of a bullet.
Instead, he dragged me to an abandoned underground safehouse, locked me in the damp, rotting dark, and told the world I had been assassinated.
For six months, I starved in that dungeon, surviving only on the desperate hope that my family was safe.
Then, on the day of his lavish new wedding, a cruel maid kicked a plate of spoiled food onto my floor and delivered the final, fatal blow.
"Annabel is dead. Pined away and died of a broken heart two weeks ago."
My gentle mother was dead, all because she actually believed his lie about my tragic murder.
Driven by pure agony and an all-consuming hatred, I shattered crates of smuggled chemical solvents and struck a match, letting the roaring inferno turn their bloody wedding into my funeral pyre.
I thought the fire was the end.
But when I opened my eyes, the suffocating smoke vanished, replaced by the biting chill of a Long Island winter.
I was standing in the snow, back on the exact day my descent into hell began.
This time, the terrified girl was dead, and I would use their own ruthless rules to tear their empire apart.
9.7
I am the Luna of the Blackwood Pack, but my Alpha mate, Ryker, has spent the last six years treating me like a placeholder while publicly pining for his ex, Faye.
When Faye's friends cornered my wolfless daughter and called her a defective embarrassment, I finally used my Luna authority to kick them out.
But instead of defending our child, Ryker stormed in and used his Alpha Command on me.
He forced me to my knees with his raw power, ordering me to apologize to the bullies who had just humiliated our daughter.
When I fought his crushing command and refused, his retaliation was swift and brutal.
He and his mother stripped me of my family's sacred heritage, the Moonpetal Grove, and gifted it to Faye as a reward.
They even tried to force a quack doctor on my daughter, telling me to just accept that she was broken.
The entire pack watched me lose everything, mocking me as the useless, rejected mate.
I had endured his coldness for years, but watching him sacrifice our daughter's safety and my family's legacy for his mistress was the final straw.
How could the Moon Goddess tie me to a man who would so easily destroy his own flesh and blood?
Instead of crying, I pulled out my mother's ancient grimoire and drafted a formal rejection of our mate bond.
And when a terrifyingly powerful, cloaked stranger suddenly appeared to save my daughter's life, carrying a familiar scent of ancient power, I knew my fate was changing.
This time, I wouldn't just walk away. I was going to burn their world to the ground.
