I Married You For Your Brother’s Face

I married the most ruthless Don in Chicago, but not for love, money, or power. I married Luca Falcone because he was the only man on earth who carried the same DNA as his dead identical twin, Dante—the love of my life. For three years, I played the role of the submissive, obsessed wife. I endured his coldness. I cooked for his mistress, Sofia. I even stayed silent when Sofia pushed me down a flight of stairs in a jealous rage, nearly killing me. Luca thought I stayed because I was weak. He thought the way I stared at his face was adoration. He never realized I was looking right through him, seeing the ghost of the brother he could never live up to. But the moment the second pink line appeared on the pregnancy test, my mission was complete. I had secured the heir. I had brought a piece of Dante back to the world. The vessel was no longer needed. I signed the divorce papers, packed my bags, and vanished into the night while Luca was busy with his mistress. When he finally tracked me down months later, broken and begging on his knees for me to come home, I didn't feel a thing. I looked down at the man who thought he was a King and delivered the final blow. "I never loved you, Luca. I married you for the sperm."

Chapters

Chapter 10

Luca POV

The private wing of the hospital reeked of antiseptic and old money.

I loathed it.

Sofia perched on the edge of the exam table, swinging her legs back and forth like a petulant child. She looked fine. She looked better than fine; she looked bored.

"I told you, Luca, it's just a little dizziness," she whined, inspecting her manicured nails. "I don't need a doctor. I need a shopping spree."

I leaned against the wall, checking the Rolex on my wrist for the third time.

Elena should have landed in Paris by now.

I had tried calling her twice. Both times, it went straight to voicemail.

It gnawed at me. Elena always answered on the first ring. Always.

The doctor walked in, clutching a clipboard to his chest like a shield. Dr. Aris. He was the family OB-GYN, the one who handled the wives and mistresses of the Chicago Outfit with equal discretion.

"Ms. Moretti," he nodded, his professional mask slipping slightly. "Your vitals are stable. It's likely just dehydration."

"See?" Sofia hopped off the table, smoothing her skirt. "Can we go now?"

Dr. Aris looked at me. He hesitated, his eyes darting nervously.

"Don Falcone," he said, lowering his voice. "While you are here... I wanted to ask about your wife."

I stiffened, pushing off the wall. "What about her?"

"She missed her appointment yesterday. It's the second one she's rescheduled."

"Appointment for what?" I asked, frowning. "She has migraines?"

Dr. Aris looked confused. He adjusted his glasses, a sheen of sweat forming on his brow.

"No, sir. Her prenatal checkup. For the pregnancy."

The world tilted on its axis.

The hum of the air conditioner cut out into a deafening silence. The sound of Sofia's heels clicking on the tile evaporated.

All I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears, roaring like the ocean.

"Pregnancy?" I repeated. The word felt foreign, heavy as lead in my mouth.

"Yes," the doctor said, looking terrified now. "She's... she's almost four months along. The records show-"

Four months.

My mind reeled back, searching.

The loose dresses.

The herbal tea that smelled like dirt.

The way she cradled her stomach when she fell down the stairs.

The stairs.

Ice flooded my veins, freezing me in place.

She fell down the stairs because I pushed her. I had put my hands on my pregnant wife and shoved her.

"Luca?" Sofia touched my arm. "What is he talking about? She's pregnant?"

I slapped her hand away as if her touch burned.

"Get out," I snarled at the doctor.

"Sir, I-"

"GET OUT!"

The doctor fled without looking back.

I pulled out my phone. My hands were shaking so violently I dropped it once before I could unlock it.

I dialed Elena.

The number you have dialed is not in service.

I stared at the screen, the mechanical voice mocking me.

Not in service?

I opened WhatsApp.

User not found.

Panic clawed at my throat as I opened the tracking app I had installed on her phone years ago.

Signal Lost. Last location: O'Hare International Airport. Terminal 3 trash receptacle.

She wasn't in Paris.

She wasn't shopping.

"Luca, calm down," Sofia said, her voice shrill and grating. "So she's pregnant. It's probably not even yours. You know how she-"

I turned on her slowly.

The look on my face must have been demonic, because she took a step back, her hip hitting the metal counter with a clang.

"Not mine?" I whispered, my voice trembling with barely suppressed rage. "She has looked at no one but me for three years. She worships the ground I walk on."

But did she?

Is the man you love in this room?

No.

The memory hit me like a physical blow, knocking the wind out of me.

She told me. She told me to my face, and I was too arrogant to hear it.

She didn't take clothes. She took the box. The box with Dante's things.

She wasn't on vacation.

She was gone.

And she had taken my heir with her.

I didn't say another word to Sofia. I turned and sprinted out of the room.

I ran through the hospital corridors, blind to the nurses, shoving past security.

I burst out into the parking lot, gasping for air, clutching my chest as if my heart were failing.

"Elena!" I screamed her name at the grey sky, raw and desperate.

Silence.

Only the wind answered.

She was gone.

Continue to next part

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."

Action Mafia Modern

9.3

Blooming Under His Shadow

9.3

He is power, control, and consequence. She is everything he never planned for. Lucien Blackwell rules his world through silence and precision, dismantling threats before they speak his name. When betrayal from his own family forces him to tighten his grip, the last thing he expects is her-a florist whose calm presence unsettles him more than any enemy ever has. As unseen eyes close in and his shadow stretches across her life, she refuses to be protected through ignorance or distance. Instead, she chooses awareness, agency, and a place beside the danger. Because some things don't survive darkness. They bloom within it. Blooming Under His Shadow is a slow-burn romantic suspense about power, choice, and the risk of loving a man whose world was never built for light.

Mafia Modern Romance

9.6

Desired By Two Mafias

9.6

Elena is trapped in a dangerous world where two powerful mafia leaders compete for her heart. Torn between a ruthless kingpin and his equally lethal rival, she must navigate a landscape of violence and betrayal. As their obsession intensifies, Elena becomes the prize in a deadly game of dominance. With bullets flying and loyalty tested, she struggles to survive while discovering that being desired by such men comes with a lethal price for everyone.

Action Mafia Romance

8.2

El padre de mis hijos

8.2

After a night of passion with a dangerous stranger, Elena’s life changes forever when she discovers she is pregnant. Years later, her past resurfaces as the powerful mafia leader returns to claim what is his. Caught in a world of violence and betrayal, Elena must protect her children from the shadows of their father's empire. As secrets emerge and enemies close in, she struggles to survive the lethal consequences of their shared history.

Action Mafia Romance

9.2

From Mafia Pawn To The Don's Queen

9.2

It wasn't a gun, but the pen in my hand was going to end my life just the same. Liam, the man I was supposed to marry in a month, pointed to the tablet on his desk. It showed a live feed of my mother’s hospital room. "Sign the confession, Ava," he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. "Take the fall for the embezzlement. Or the funding for her ventilator stops in ten seconds." My heart hammered against my ribs. The crimes weren't mine. They belonged to Chloe, his mistress. But Liam Valenti, the Underboss of New York, was sacrificing me to save her. "She's fragile," he said casually, adjusting his silk cuffs. "She can't handle prison. You're strong. You'll survive." With tears blurring my vision, I signed the document. I signed away my career as a lawyer and my freedom to save my mother. Liam snatched the paper like a prize. He didn't offer comfort. He just smirked. "Good girl. The wedding is still on, of course. You'll look beautiful in the ankle monitor." He walked out to celebrate with his mistress, thinking he had won. Thinking he owned me. But he forgot one crucial detail. I wasn't just his fiancée. I was the one who laundered his money. I knew where every body was buried—literally and financially. The moment the door clicked shut, I stopped crying. I pulled out a burner phone and opened an encrypted app. I wasn't going to jail. I was going to war. I typed three words to the one man Liam feared most. "Execute Protocol Zero."

Mafia Modern Romance

9.7

He Broke Her Heart, She Broke His Bank

9.7

I was the architect of my husband's legitimate empire, the queen to his throne as the Don of a powerful crime family. Our home was our sanctuary, our bed the one sacred place he always returned to. But in the middle of the night, I woke to a woman's moan coming from a guest room that was supposed to be empty. The space beside me was cold; my husband, Brendan, was gone. The woman's voice belonged to Kiya, my protégée—a girl I’d mentored like a sister. Through the door, I heard him call me "a piece of furniture that sleeps soundly." I heard him tell her she possessed something I didn't. Then, a video confirmed the ultimate betrayal: a four-year affair, a pregnancy, and his casual dismissal of me as a business arrangement. He called me a title, but he called another woman's child his heir. He had broken the one rule that held our world together, turning my life's work into ash. He thought I was just a fixture in his grand design, a brilliant mind he could control and discard. He was wrong. There was only one way to escape this agony. I would have every memory of him surgically cut from my mind, erase him from my soul like a cancer, and disappear so completely that not even a ghost of me remained.

Mafia Modern Romance

I Married You For Your Brother’s Face

Chapter 10

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