Best Mafia Novels

For three years, I was the one scrubbing the scent of blood from his hands and holding him while he screamed in pain. I was the one who taught Coleton Barron how to walk again after the car bomb nearly took his legs. But the moment he reclaimed his seat as Don, I became invisible. At his recovery gala, he draped his arm around Charly—the woman who fled when he was crippled—and laughed as he told his inner circle I was "just the hired help." It didn't stop at insults. When Charly faked a fall, he shoved me aside with enough force to crack my skull against the pool edge. When a bomb went off in a gallery, he looked me in the eye, saw me trapped under debris, and turned his back to carry her to safety instead. He even held a gun to my head because she lied about me poisoning his soup. His mother threw a check at me, telling me that tools go back in the box when the job is done. They thought I would beg to stay. They thought I was weak. I took the five million and vanished without a word. Three years later, I returned to New York. Not as his nurse, but as the fiancée of the only man Coleton fears. And when he saw the diamond on my finger, the King of New York finally realized he had thrown away his only lifeline.

She was the heir of a criminal syndicate, bred to command the underworld. For seven years she loved the wrong man, serving his family and building their fortune. Her payment was betrayal-his affair with her best friend. During her three-year coma, he hissed, "Don't wake up." They carried on at her bedside, then plotted her death to steal the company. She woke anyway and shattered them, rattling high society as a mafia heir and lethal fighter who ran the black-market economy. He begged. She kicked him aside and chose the man who'd waited a decade-the world's top arms dealer. "I'm yours."

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.

My husband, the city's most ruthless Don, left me standing at the altar to comfort a woman with a sprained ankle. I thought our marriage was a protection pact, but when a kidnapper held a knife to his childhood sweetheart’s throat on a rooftop, Cedric made his choice. He physically shoved me—his pregnant wife—toward the blade to save her. I survived the fall, but our unborn baby didn't. Yet, there was no apology. Blinded by her lies, Cedric accused me of staging the attack out of jealousy. He had me thrown into the family dungeon, where I was beaten while still bleeding from the miscarriage. He didn't know two things. First, that his "perfect" sweetheart had voluntarily sterilized herself years ago and could never give him the heir he craved. Second, that I had terminal cardiomyopathy. My heart had an expiration date, and I had only days left to live. On my 27th birthday, I asked him for one final kindness: a midnight ride on the Ferris wheel where we had our first date. He promised to be there, but he was late again, attending to her needs. So I went up alone. When the carriage came back down, it was empty. All I left behind were my shoes and a medical file that would destroy him.

I went to the family lawyer for a routine travel clearance. Instead, I was handed a divorce decree. The ink was three years old. While I had been playing the role of the dutiful Capo's wife, Dante had secretly divorced me the day after our fifth anniversary. Twenty-four hours later, he legally married the nanny, Gia, and named her cruel-eyed son as his heir. I returned home to confront him, only for the boy to throw boiling tomato soup on me. Dante didn't check my burns. He cradled the boy and looked at me with pure, drug-fueled hatred, calling me a monster for upsetting his "son." The final blow came in a parking garage. A car sped toward us. Dante didn't pull me to safety. He shoved me into the vehicle's path, using my body as a human shield to protect his mistress. Lying broken on the asphalt, I realized Aria Vitiello was already dead to him. So, I decided to make it official. I arranged a private flight over the Atlantic and ensured there were no survivors. By the time Dante was weeping over the wreckage, realizing too late that he had been poisoned against me, I was already in France. The Canary was dead. The Reaper had risen.

" Make love to me, Ryan. F*ck me till my legs give way. " When Amelia said this, she knew she was willing to risk everything... her father's trust and happiness. **** " Damnit, Amelia! He's my friend! " Her father snarled. " And he's my lover! " She yelled right back. Bryan shook his head, " No, child. Ryan is too dangerous for you. " " And old, " he added in a whisper. " I'm not a child anymore, daddy. I'm 21 " Amelia answered. " Who knows nothing! End it with him or I'll disown you! " He was shouting now. She stomped her feet on the ground like the child her father had called her, " I'm going to be with him, Dad! Get used to it. " " He's being called a monster for a reason. Don't you know why? " " Stupid reason. He doesn't deserve it. " she retorted and added, " And isn't he supposed to be your friend? " Bryan shook his head, " You come first, Mel. I'm going to protect you from him. " " At all cost. "