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 5

The relentless bass in the VIP section hammered against my bruised ribs, mocking the rhythm of my own pulse.

It was a so-called "Celebration" party.

Sofia had convinced Luca that a festivity was in order-specifically, to mark her "recovery" from the trauma of... witnessing me fall down the stairs.

The irony was thick enough to choke on.

I remained wedged in the corner of the plush leather booth, nursing a glass of ice water that I prayed passed for vodka.

Luca sat in the center, holding court.

His soldiers surrounded him, laughing too loudly at his jokes, lighting his cigars with trembling deference.

Sofia perched on his lap, whispering in his ear, draping herself over him to mark her territory for everyone to see.

"Let's play a game!" Sofia announced, clapping her hands sharply. "Truth or Dare!"

The soldiers cheered. They were already deep in their cups.

"I'll start," Sofia said, her eyes gleaming with a toxic sweetness. "Elena."

The room went instantly quiet.

"Truth or Dare?"

"Truth," I said. I wasn't going to dance for her.

"Boring," she sighed, feigning disappointment. "Okay. Truth."

She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that carried clearly over the music.

"Everyone knows you chased Luca for years. You bought your way into this marriage. But tell us..."

She paused for dramatic effect, letting the question hang.

"Is the man you truly love in this room right now?"

Luca stopped drinking.

He set his glass down with a deliberate clink.

He looked at me.

His arrogance filled the booth. He expected me to say yes. He expected me to confess an undying, pathetic devotion to him in front of his men, validating his cruelty.

He wanted to see me bleed.

I looked around the room.

I saw the soldiers. I saw the sycophants. I saw the monster on the throne.

My mind drifted to the wind-swept cemetery on the hill.

To the worn photo hidden deep in my purse.

I met Luca's gaze.

"No."

The word hung in the air, heavier than the cigar smoke.

One syllable.

Absolute devastation.

The silence was deafening.

A soldier coughed awkwardly, shifting in his seat.

Luca's face didn't change, but his eyes... his eyes turned into shards of ice.

"You're drunk," he said, his voice low and laced with menace.

"I'm drinking water, Luca," I replied, calmly lifting my glass.

"Then you're lying."

"It's Truth or Dare. I chose Truth."

Sofia laughed, but it sounded brittle. "Oh, honey, don't be embarrassed. We all know you worship him."

"Next person," Luca barked, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and pouring a glass that was half full.

He downed it in one swallow.

The game continued, but the air had shifted.

Luca was angry. Not the explosive anger of the stairs, but a brooding, dark storm brewing beneath the surface.

He started losing on purpose.

"Dare," he growled when it was his turn.

"Show us your gallery!" a brave soldier shouted, trying to break the tension. "Last photo taken!"

It was a standard penalty.

Luca threw his phone on the table. "Unlock it."

Sofia grabbed it, beaming. "It's probably a picture of me."

She unlocked it and projected it onto the screen on the wall.

It was a shrine to Sofia.

Sofia sleeping. Sofia eating. Sofia trying on shoes.

The men cheered, relieved. "The Don is in love!"

Sofia preened, kissing Luca's cheek. "See? He's obsessed with me."

Luca didn't smile.

He was staring at me.

He was trying to find a crack in my mask. He wanted to see jealousy. He wanted to see pain.

He saw nothing.

I regarded the slideshow of his mistress with the detached disinterest one might reserve for peeling paint.

"It's getting late," I said, checking Dante's watch on my wrist. "I'm going home."

"Sit down," Luca ordered.

"No."

I stood up.

"I said sit down, Elena!" He slammed his hand on the table, making the glasses jump.

"And I said no."

I grabbed my purse.

"Enjoy your night, Luca. You two deserve each other."

I walked out of the VIP room.

I felt his eyes burning a hole in my back.

Let him burn.

I had a flight to catch in three days.

And when I left, I was taking the only part of him that had ever mattered-the part that belonged to Dante-with me.

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 5

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