His Dangerous Love: The Writer And The Don
I was exactly three thousand words away from eviction when the heir to the New York underworld smashed my laptop and offered me a job instead of an apology.
Dante Vitiello wanted me to write a memoir that would paint him as a saint.
I moved into his penthouse, thinking I could keep things professional. But when his arranged fiancée, the daughter of the Chicago Outfit, arrived, she didn't see an employee. She saw a threat.
She didn't just humiliate me; she leaked fake evidence to the press, branding me as a federal informant.
I woke up in a hospital bed with the word "RAT" plastered across every gossip site.
Sofia’s guards were stationed outside my door, blocking even the nurses. I was a liability. A stain on the Vitiello name.
I knew how these stories ended. The Prince always chooses the Family. The Alliance is more important than the girl.
I was packing my bag, shaking with fear, ready to disappear into the night to save him from ruin.
But Dante didn't come to fire me. He walked into the boardroom where his father and the Chicago Boss were waiting for him to beg for forgiveness.
He looked at the crown that was his birthright, then he looked at the gun on the table.
He didn't kneel. He didn't apologize.
He slammed his weapon down, shattering a hundred-year alliance and forfeiting his empire with a single sentence.
"Keep the crown. I take the girl."
Chapters
Share
Chapter 3
Aria Sterling POV
The sudden flare of camera flashes blinded me.
I threw my hand up to shield my eyes as I stepped out of the black town car and onto the pavement in front of Vitiello Tower.
"Who is she?" a voice shouted from the scrum of photographers.
"Is that the new mistress?"
Dante's hand claimed the small of my back, guiding me through the chaos. His grip was firm, possessive, branding me through the fabric of my coat. He didn't push the photographers away. He let them see. He let them snap the pictures of his hand on me, of my flushed face, and of the way he loomed over me like a dark guardian.
We made it into the lobby, the heavy glass doors sealing out the noise of the street.
"Why were they there?" I asked, my heart racing.
"Because I told them to be," Dante said calmly. He walked toward the private elevator, expecting me to follow.
"You tipped them off?" I hurried to keep up with his long strides. "You want people to think... that?"
I halted in the middle of the lobby. The marble floors were cold beneath my boots, seeping through the soles.
"They were calling me your mistress, Dante."
He stopped and turned. The employees in the lobby averted their eyes, terrified to witness a private conversation between the boss and the girl from the tabloids.
"Let them talk," he said. "It is better than the truth."
"And what is the truth?" I challenged. "That I am your prisoner who types?"
"That you are under my protection," he said. His voice dropped an octave, vibrating in the quiet space. "In my world, Aria, perception is reality. If they think you are mine in a romantic sense, the other families will hesitate to touch you. It would be an act of war to harm a Don's woman. If they know you are just a writer who knows too much... you are a loose end."
I felt a chill settle in my stomach. He had put a target on my back and then painted a shield over it, but the shield was made of his reputation for violence.
"I am not yours," I whispered.
He stepped into the elevator and held the door open. His eyes locked onto mine.
"For the next three months, until that book is finished, you belong to the Vitiello name. You breathe because I allow it. You eat because I feed you."
I stepped into the elevator. The doors slid shut, sealing us in a small, metal box.
We stood in silence as the numbers climbed.
"One more thing," he said, staring straight ahead at the steel doors. "My secretary, Elena. She will be cold to you. Ignore it."
"Why?"
"Because she knows the rules," he said. "And you are breaking every single one of them just by standing here."
The elevator dinged at the penthouse. The doors opened to reveal a sprawling living space that looked more like a museum than a home.
"Welcome to your cage, little bird," he murmured.
I stepped out, and for the first time, I realized that the danger wasn't just the men with guns outside. The danger was the man standing next to me, and the way my heart skipped a beat when he called me his.
You may also like
7.1
For ten years, I disguised myself as my dead twin brother, fighting bloody mob wars to build the Falcone family's bootlegging empire.
When the war ended, I thought I could finally take off the men's suits and be Anya again.
Instead, my parents stole my victories to secure my father's power, demanding I disappear forever.
When I tried to expose the truth, my family dragged me into a soundproof basement.
My younger brother forced a metal funnel past my teeth and poured corrosive chemicals down my throat, dissolving my vocal cords into a blistered ruin.
They chained me to a freezing pier, whipped me bloody, and let the men I used to lead spit on me as a jealous traitor.
Then, under the guise of a family reconciliation dinner, my mother drugged my wine.
While I lay paralyzed but fully conscious on my bed, my brother took heavy iron pliers and crushed all ten of my fingers, bone by bone.
They wanted to ensure I could never hold a gun or write the truth again.
I had slaughtered for them, bled for them, and craved only their love.
In return, they pulverized my body and painted me as a hysterical madwoman just to keep the crown I had won for them.
The foolish girl who wanted a family died in that agonizing pain, leaving behind only a ghost.
Dragging my mangled, bandaged body into the rival Romano family's charity gala, I collapsed at the feet of their ruthless matriarch.
"I invoke the sacred code," I rasped through my chemically burned throat. "I demand a Vendetta."
8.1
One wardrobe malfunction.
Two people who don't belong together.
Three awful "Be my wife."
Everyone else is at this party to marry the host.
I'm only here until I can get a ride home.
When my dress rips in the world's worst-timed wardrobe malfunction,
I go find somewhere quiet to fix it.
So I'm standing there in nothing but my heels when,
As my luck would have it, the door opens...
And the man of the hour walks in.
I wish I could say I played it cool.
But it's been a looong time since anyone has seen me in my birthday suit...
Much less the hottest man I've ever laid eyes on.
All I want to do is fix my dress, click my heels three times, and be back on my couch in fuzzy slippers.
But Ivan has other ideas.
He's decided who he's taking to the altar...
And I don't have a choice but to say "I do."
9.5
"My father sold me to a sixty-year-old monster to clear his gambling debts. So, I made a desperate gamble of my own."
Seventeen-year-old Isabella Rossi has two choices: become the broken plaything of a sadistic mafia Capo, or do the unthinkable. She chooses the latter. Sneaking into a high-end speakeasy, she slips an aphrodisiac into the whiskey of the deadliest man in New York—Damien Falcone, the ruthless Underboss of the Falcone family.
Her plan was simple: steal his seed, secure his protection, and run.
But you don’t drug a predator and expect to walk away.
When Damien wakes up, he doesn’t kill her. Instead, he claims her.
"You intercepted a delivery meant for my enemy. Turns out, it was you. Now, you are my Collateral."
9.6
Lesley Williams was once the alpha's daughter, but a fatal accident took away everything she loved. Now she's her Uncle's pet and the pack's omega, which means she's constantly bullied and abused. She's broken inside, but she doesn't want to leave her father's pack in fear of what her uncle might do to them in retaliation. Her only comfort is that when she meets her mate, he'll be able to take her away from this hellhole...
Alpha Cedrick Silver had a mate once. A beautiful omega wolf, but she rejected him. Barely surviving the broken bond, he became ruthless and coldhearted, throwing himself into building up his pack to be the biggest and strongest pack in the nation. Now he has a girlfriend, that he's content with and he does not want a mate: EVER!
But the second their eyes met, Cedrick and Lesley realized that they were fated for each other. Not thrilled about having another omega mate, Cedrick is even more disgusted when he realized that not only is his second chance mate considered 'the pack's slut', but she's also half his age.
Does he want someone like that as his mate and Luna? Can she trust him with her secrets? Can these two broken people find love?
WARNING!!
This story contains scenes of sexual abuse of a child, rape, sex, strong language, verbal abuse, extreme bullying, mental disorders, self-harm, thoughts of suicide, gore, and other offenses that might be illegal in some countries.
7.8
Elena Voss was sold like a debt receipt.
Her greedy aunt and uncle handed her over to Damien Blackthorn-New York's untouchable billionaire tech mogul by day, ruthless Mafia Don and Alpha of the Blackthorn Pack by night-to settle a family debt they never asked her to pay.
The moment their eyes met in that rain-soaked alley, the fated mate bond ignited like wildfire. For one reckless night, he claimed her body and soul, whispering "mine" against her skin while the Moon Goddess sealed their destiny.
Then came the betrayal.
On their first anniversary, he paraded his pureblood fiancée through their penthouse, let her kneel for him in the study while Elena watched from the shadows, and divorced her in front of the entire pack.
"Wolfless trash," he snarled. "You were never more than payment."
Heart in pieces and two tiny heartbeats growing inside her, Elena fled. She vanished into Seattle's gray drizzle, changed her name, cut her hair, and built a quiet life as a single mother. She swore the Blackthorn name would never touch her twins-Leo and Luna, the secret heirs he didn't even know existed.
Five years later, the children's first uncontrolled shifts rip through their small apartment like lightning. The only place that can teach them control and keep them hidden from rival packs is back in New York-back under Damien's shadow.
The Alpha Don who once threw her away is now obsessed.
The fated bond never died; it only waited. He feels her every laugh, every tear, every protective growl she gives their children. He'll burn his empire, his alliances, and his pride to drag her back.
But Elena isn't the broken girl he discarded anymore.
She's a mother with claws.
A luna who learned to bite.
And this time, if he wants her forgiveness, he'll have to beg on his knees.
Pregnancy. Divorce. Secret babies. Billionaire alpha. Mafia power plays. Revenge that burns slow and sweet.
Some bonds can't be broken.
Some rejections come with claws.
And some second chances are paid for in blood.
8.4
Eleven years ago, Damien Falcone pulled me from the freezing waters, and I thought I was marrying my savior.
Instead, he orchestrated my absolute ruin by forging evidence to frame me for selling a vital mafia bootlegging route to the FBI.
Under the guise of saving me from the family's brutal death sentence, he stripped away my future as his Mafia Queen. He dragged me to New York and locked me in a gilded penthouse cage. For eleven years, I rotted away as his secret prisoner until my failing body finally gave out.
As I collapsed in the freezing New York snow, he caught me, his hands trembling as he held my dying body against his chest.
"No, Fia, stay with me. I did it to keep you alive. I had to—"
I didn't want to hear his monstrous lies anymore. I had given him all my love, and he repaid me with a tomb. Loving him was the only unforgivable sin I ever committed.
"I pray... we never meet again."
When the howling wind faded, I opened my eyes to the heavy stench of rust and lake water. I wasn't dead.
I was back in the cramped cabin of a cargo freighter, exactly sixteen years old again. It was the very night my jealous cousin sent an assassin to carve up my face and void my marriage to the Falcone family.
This time, I quietly gripped the heavy oak slat under my mattress.