Accidentally Proposed To The Mafia King

Isabella Hart thought her Valentine's Day plan was perfect: propose to her boyfriend, celebrate in the Maldives, and finally start the life she'd dreamed of. Instead, she walked into his office and found him kissing his assistant who was also her friend. Heartbreak turned to fury and before she could stop herself, she shoved the engagement ring meant for him onto the finger of a stranger with cold gray eyes. The stranger looked at her, amused, and said, "I do." Moments later, her ex called that stranger Boss. Luciano Moretti, the stranger, was no ordinary man. He was the quiet, ruthless king of New York's underworld, the man people whispered about but never dared to name aloud. What began as a viral mistake became a dangerous entanglement of power, lies, and a love too forbidden to survive the truth.

Chapters

Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Bella's POV

For a moment, all I could do was stare at Luciano Moretti.

He stood in my tiny living room like he owned oxygen, like he could command gravity itself. His coat was still buttoned, not a wrinkle on him, not a single lock of hair out of place. Meanwhile I was one blink away from falling apart.

He wanted me to pretend to be engaged to him?

Me?

A girl who had just proposed in public because her heart got drop-kicked into a trash can?

Really?

"No," I said, my voice trembling for a whole different reason now. "Absolutely not. I'm not doing any of that."

His eyebrow lifted, so gracefully arrogant it should've been illegal. "You don't have a choice."

My jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

He took a slow step forward, and my lungs forgot their purpose. "This is already public. You and I are in a mess together, Miss Hart. The only way out is forward."

"Forward?" I sputtered. "By lying to the entire world? By...by being your fake fiancee? Are you insane?!"

His lips twitched. "Possibly."

I threw my hands up. "Fantastic. I proposed to a lunatic."

His gaze flickered over my face, lingering a second too long on my mouth. The air between us thickened, heated and charged with something I absolutely refused to name.

I stepped back. He stepped forward.

"Look," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, "I didn't mean what I said. I was emotional. Heartbroken. Stupid. Pick any adjective you want, okay? I don't even know you."

"You will," he murmured.

My stomach fluttered-annoyingly-while my brain screamed run. "I don't want to," I snapped.

He tilted his head, studying me like I was an equation he fully intended to solve. "Do you think I want this?" he asked quietly.

"Well... you said 'I do' pretty fast."

"I was curious."

"Curious?" I repeated, incredulous.

"Yes." His voice dropped again, lower, darker. "You didn't run from me. You didn't lower your eyes. You didn't tremble like other people do when they realize who they're standing in front of."

"I did tremble!"

"That was not fear."

My breath hitched. "I-excuse me-what-"

His eyes glinted, as though he could hear the disaster happening inside me. Then, with a faint tilt of his head, he said with a softer tone, "You're overwhelmed. Breathe."

"I am breathing!" I snapped again. "And you're... you're doing that thing."

"What thing?"

"That thing where you act like you're in control of every molecule in this room."

"I am in control of every molecule in this room."

I blinked. "See? This is exactly why I can't do this."

"You must," he said simply.

"Why?" I threw my arms out. "Why me? Why this? Can't you just call your PR team and say I'm clinically insane? Or possessed? Or drunk? I don't care...just fucking pick one."

He stepped closer...dangerously closer. His cologne curled around me, warm and dark, stealing my oxygen. "Because you said, 'Marry me.' And I said I do. And the world heard."

I swallowed, heat crawling up my neck. "Then... then say no."

Luciano's gaze dropped to my lips again. "I don't want to."

A sharp pulse shot straight through my body. I hated the way it made me feel. I hated that he noticed. I hated that he was right about the trembling.

"Get out," I whispered, because my voice couldn't handle anything louder.

He studied me for a long, silent beat which as long enough for my heart to thump embarrassingly loud in my ears. Finally, he nodded once.

"Very well."

He walked toward the door, his presence trailing behind him like a shadow that didn't want to leave. His hand touched the doorknob, but he paused, looking at me over his shoulder.

"Think carefully, Bella," he said softly. "This is bigger than a broken heart."

My pulse jumped. "What does that mean?"

His eyes locked with mine. His gray eyes were stormy. Serious. Too serious.

"Trouble is already coming," he said. "And now? It has your name."

The doorknob clicked just then and he walked out.

I looked at him until he left, my heart beating frantically in my chest as he did so.

Continue to next part

On our third wedding anniversary, I planned to tell my husband I was pregnant. Instead, I watched him get down on one knee and propose to another woman. In the ensuing chaos, he shoved me down a flight of marble stairs. I woke up in the hospital, losing our baby. The doctor called him, begging him to come. "Tell her to stop this pathetic act," I heard my husband's voice say over the phone. "I don't have time for her games." He hung up. He was at the same hospital, comforting his mistress over a minor burn while our child died. After three years of lies and five broken promises, I finally woke up. I left him a box with the ultrasound photos and my miscarriage diagnosis, signed the divorce papers, and disappeared from his life forever.

Mafia Modern Romance

9.1

His Unwanted Fiancée Was His True Savior

9.1

I was standing in five thousand dollars of hand-stitched lace when I received the medical report. My fiancé, Dante de Rossi, the future Don of Chicago, had gotten another woman pregnant. He didn't apologize. He didn't beg. He looked me in the eye and called it a "strategic necessity." "Isobel saved my life five years ago," he said coldly. "I owe her this child. You will raise it as your own. It is the price of the Peace Treaty." He forced me to cancel our engagement photos so he could take them with her. He took her on the vacation meant for our honeymoon. At dinner, he ordered me the seafood risotto, completely forgetting my deadly shellfish allergy, while fussing over Isobel’s water temperature. When I tried to leave, he cornered me. "You are a mob wife, Nina. Act like one. She is the hero who saved me." I wanted to laugh. Because five years ago, in that alley, Isobel wasn't even there. I was the one in the mask. I was the one who stitched his femoral artery and saved his life, risking my own medical license. He was destroying our twenty-year relationship to pay a debt to a liar. I didn't scream. I didn't fight. I simply picked up a red marker and walked to the calendar. On the day of our wedding, while Dante stood at the altar waiting for his obedient Queen, I was already boarding a one-way flight to the other side of the world. I left him nothing but four words scrawled across the date: "Let's break up, Dante."

Action Mafia Romance

7.6

His Unwanted Wife, The Rival Don's Queen

7.6

The gunman pressed a Glock to my temple and gave my husband a choice. "One walks out. One stays. Choose, Mr. Underboss." I wasn't worried. I was Haven. I was his wife of ten years, his Consigliere, the woman who built his empire. Beside me sobbed Gemma, a fragile twenty-two-year-old he had known for six months. "Take Gemma! Leave Haven!" Connor screamed, his honor twisting into something unrecognizable. He walked out of the warehouse with another woman in his arms, leaving me to be butchered. I didn't wait for the bullet. I threw myself through a glass window into the freezing canal. I survived the fall, but the life inside me didn't. After five years of failed IVF, the miracle baby I hadn't even told Connor about was gone. While I lay in a cold hospital room, bleeding out the remains of our child, my husband was buying diamond earrings for the woman who had set me up to die. When the doctor tried to sedate me for the surgery, I grabbed his wrist. "No anesthesia," I commanded. "But the pain..." "I want to feel it," I said, staring at the ceiling. "I want to feel every scrap of him leaving my body." I burned that pain into my soul. Then, I went home, poured gasoline over our wedding bed, and lit a match. Two years later, I returned to the city. Connor thought I was dead. But when he saw me on the arm of his mortal enemy, wearing the crown of a rival Queen, he realized his mistake. He didn't just lose a wife. He started a war.

Mafia Modern Romance

8.1

Mated to The Triplet Stepbrothers Bullies

8.1

I, Liya Anderson, was the pampered Alpha female heir before. But everything was shattered by an invasion! My mother turned out to be the second chance for the bastard who destroyed my pack, and we were captured. Since then, my mother changed, no longer caring for me, allowing me to be abused by the triplet stepbrothers. Soon, I thought I had lucked out by encountering a savior. Naively, I believed he would take me away from this hell. But it seems that three won't let me go... *** "You don't seem to understand it, do you?" The irritated edge to Hunter tone brought more tears to my eyes. Gunter stepped closer, leaving no distance between us as he gazed at me with darkened eyes glowing with undiluted fury, "haven't we told you before?" My heart stopped for a second when Ryder's hand wrapped my neck, lifting me from the floor a little bit. "Let me clarify it again, Liya. You belong to no one else but us. You're ours to look at, ours to touch and most definitely ours to fuck! This is your FUCKING fate! Accept it!" His deadly tone had a hint of mischief. Yeah, I should have known earlier. This is my miserable fate...

Mafia Romance Werewolf

9.6

THE ENFORCER'S SILENT DEBT

9.6

was a witness to a murder I wasn't supposed to see. I expected a bullet; I got a golden cage." Ivy Thorne is a nobody-a struggling cellist with a mountain of medical bills and a past she can't remember. Her life changes in a heartbeat when she witnesses Kaelen Volkov, the Mafia's most lethal enforcer, executing a traitor in a dark alley. She should be dead. But Kaelen doesn't pull the trigger. Instead, he sees the star-shaped birthmark on her neck and makes a choice that will ignite a war. To save her from his father's wrath, he claims her as his own. Now, Ivy is trapped in a world of blood and silk, forced to play the role of Kaelen's devoted fiancée. He's cold, scarred, and dangerous, yet he treats her like a priceless treasure he's been waiting years to reclaim. As the lines between her fear and her desire begin to blur, Ivy realizes that Kaelen isn't just protecting her from the Mafia-he's hiding a secret about her past that could shatter her world. In the Volkov empire, loyalty is everything and debt is paid in blood. But for Ivy, the highest price might be her heart.

Action Mafia Mystery

9.3

The Jilted Bride's Secret Mafia King

9.3

Standing at the altar of St. Patrick's Cathedral, I waited to marry my wealthy fiancé in front of three hundred of New York's elite. But right before the vows, my phone vibrated in my bouquet. It was a text from my groom: he was backing out because my maid of honor—my supposed best friend—was pregnant with his child. Before the shock of this double betrayal could even settle, his mother dug her manicured claws into my arm and publicly humiliated me. "A woman who can't even attract her own man, how is she worthy of the Doyle name?" She mocked my background, calling me a worthless orphan who only knew how to draw blueprints, turning my broken heart into a public execution of my dignity. The terrified girl inside me vanished, replaced by a dark, burning rage. I didn't understand why I had to let this arrogant family step all over me while they played the innocent victims. I yanked my arm free, tore off my expensive lace veil, and walked straight to the podium to grab the microphone. "The wedding is canceled. The groom is currently busy with my maid of honor." I walked out of the church, leaving them in absolute shock. But as I stumbled onto the street, I fell right into the arms of Damiano Moretti—the exiled, dangerous mafia boss known as the Ghost, who sat in a custom wheelchair. Looking into his cold, storm-gray eyes, I made a reckless, desperate deal. "Marry me."

Mafia Modern Romance

Accidentally Proposed To The Mafia King

Chapter 5

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