Jilted By The Heir, Married The Don
I was sitting in the Presidential Suite in my heavy silk wedding dress, waiting to marry the heir of the Moretti syndicate to save my family from insurmountable debt.
Then, my assistant handed me the morning tabloid.
My fiancé, Marco, had fled to Paris with a half-dressed chorus girl, declaring to the world that he was breaking his chains.
My father burst into the room, terrified that rival families would slaughter us by midnight, and demanded I go beg the Morettis for mercy.
But the Moretti family's ruthless matriarch and their 'Fixer' had a different plan.
To cover up Marco's cowardice and protect their syndicate's reputation, they decided to tell the press that my bloodline was "impure" and cancel the wedding.
Even Marco's slimy cousin tried to grope me, offering to take me off their hands as his leftover prize.
They were going to nail me and my entire family to a cross of public shame just to save their own pride.
I was nothing but collateral, surrounded by cowards, pawns, and opportunists who were ready to devour me to save their own necks.
But I refused to be the scapegoat for a spineless boy.
If I was going to be a piece on the board, I would be played by the hand of the King.
I gathered my heavy skirt, walked straight into the private parlor of the apex predator himself—Don Dante Moretti—and slammed the tabloid on his mahogany desk.
"Don't cancel the wedding." I looked the most dangerous man in New York dead in the eye. "Marry me."
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Chapter 8
Isabella POV
The formal dining room of the Moretti estate felt less like a place to eat and more like a cathedral built for a sacrifice. The polished mahogany table, long enough to seat thirty, gleamed under the crystal chandelier. The heavy scent of white lilies hung in the air, failing to mask the suffocating tension.
Dante took his seat at the head of the table, the undisputed Dark Don of the empire. I sat at his right.
Before the first course was even served, Adriana struck. She offered a sickeningly sweet smile that didn't reach her eyes. "A few minutes late, Isabella? I suppose the Rossi family forgot the importance of punctuality when they lost their standing. But here, we have rules."
Daniela, sitting across from her, shifted uncomfortably, trying to murmur something about the estate's sprawling layout, but the air had already turned to ice.
I didn't flush. I didn't look away. I met Adriana's venomous gaze with absolute calm. "I only follow one rule now, Adriana," I said, my voice carrying clearly across the china and silver. "The rule of my husband. The Don's schedule is the only one that matters."
By aligning my actions entirely with Dante's authority, I turned her petty insult into a potential questioning of the Don himself. Adriana's mouth clamped shut, her face paling slightly.
At the opposite end of the table, Nonna Elena watched the exchange. The highest Elder of the family gestured to a servant, who stepped forward and placed an ancient velvet box in the center of the table.
Nonna Elena opened it. Inside rested a breathtaking emerald necklace.
"The Tears of Sicily," Nonna Elena announced, her raspy voice commanding absolute attention. "It has belonged to the matriarchs of this family for generations. It is yours now, Isabella."
Adriana slammed her hands onto the table, her composure shattering. "This is too soon! She is an outsider! A gold digger who stole Marco's place—"
"Adriana."
Dante didn't raise his voice. He didn't even look at her. But the sheer, lethal weight of his tone sucked the oxygen from the room. It was a warning wrapped in razor wire. Adriana froze, her chest heaving, terrified into silence.
Under Nonna Elena's scrutinizing gaze, I reached into the box. I lifted the heavy gems and fastened them around my own neck. The cold stones rested against my collarbone like a heavy, unbreakable vow.
Desperate and humiliated, Adriana shifted her tactics. She looked at Dante, tears welling in her eyes. "Dante, you must reconsider Marco's allowance. Cutting him off in Paris is cruel. He is family."
I didn't let Dante answer. I stepped into the line of fire.
"Marco is a liability," I stated, my tone devoid of any sympathy. "As the new Trustee Proxy of his estate, I made the decision to cut his funds."
"That is my son's money!" Adriana shrieked, dropping the grieving mother act.
"It is Moretti money," I corrected smoothly. "And I am teaching him that betrayal has a price. If you wish to fund a runaway groom's Parisian playground, I suggest you dip into your own dividends."
The table fell dead silent. I had just exposed her stinginess and reminded everyone exactly who caused this mess. Adriana's face flushed a mottled red. She had no counterattack.
Dante picked up his linen napkin, casually wiping the corner of his mouth. He raised his hand, his heavy gold pinky ring clinking sharply against his crystal water glass. The crisp sound echoed like a gavel.
He surveyed the table, his slate-gray eyes devoid of mercy. "Any other objections to how my wife handles family business?" he asked, his voice a low, terrifying rumble.
No one dared to breathe. The Don's Command was absolute. At the far end of the table, the faintest shadow of a smile touched Nonna Elena's lips.
The hierarchy had been rewritten.
As the plates were cleared, Nonna Elena stood up, leaning on her cane. "Dante, join me in the library. We have matters to discuss."
Dante nodded. He gave me a brief, possessive glance before following his grandmother out of the dining room.
Left to my own devices, I stood up, needing to escape the suffocating scent of the lilies. The estate's rose garden was just outside the terrace doors, offering a quiet place to gather my thoughts. I stepped out into the afternoon sun, unaware of the bitter, desperate woman slipping out of the dining room right behind me.
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9.4
Michael Carter is an undercover FBI agent on a mission to take down ruthless mafia king Fernando Ramírez-the man he believes killed his sister. But getting close to Fernando means playing a dangerous game, one where seduction and power blur the lines between enemy and lover.
When Michael uncovers a shocking truth, his thirst for revenge turns into a fight for something far more dangerous-his own heart. Now, torn between duty and desire, he must decide: destroy the man he swore to take down or surrender to the one thing he never saw coming.
Love has never been more lethal.
8.6
Mia Romano never wanted the mafia life. The daughter of a ruthless Don, she dreamed of freedom, of love beyond blood-soaked vows. But her world shatters when her father forces her into marriage with Mark DeLuca-his cold, calculating right-hand man. Handsome, loyal, and untouchable, Mark has secretly loved Mia for years, though she has always belonged to another.
Trapped in a loveless arrangement, Mia despises him, clinging to her boyfriend, the one man who ever made her feel normal. But Mark's world is one of power, protection, and unshakable devotion. And when rivals close in, Mia discovers the dangerous fire that burns beneath Mark's calm surface.
As they sleep in separate rooms, jealousy brews, especially when Mark's alluring ex moves into their lives. What begins as hatred slowly twists into longing, obsession, and passion. But in the mafia world, love comes with blood, betrayal, and deadly consequences.
Will Mia surrender to the man she swore she would never love-or will her heart destroy them both? Read to find out.
8.4
To marry the man I loved, I held a shard of glass to my wrist and threatened my guardian, Alois Wyatt. "If you don't let me marry Erick, I will die right here."
The second he reluctantly agreed, the horrifying truth of my past life slammed into me. Erick, the man I’d fought to marry, had never loved me. He’d locked me in a European asylum for three years, tortured me, and left me to die in a fiery car crash.
I dropped the glass and threw myself into Alois’s arms, sobbing that it was all a joke. I begged him to take me home, swearing I'd rather die than marry Erick.
But my sudden change was met with cold suspicion. To him and his friends, I was a snake playing a new, pathetic game, trying to steal his corporate secrets for my pathetic lover.
The most painful part was that they were right. In my past life, I had betrayed Alois, destroyed his reputation, and left him to die a broken man, all for a monster who saw me as nothing more than a tool.
But now, opening my eyes again on the very night my nightmare began, I have a second chance. This time, I will cling to the only man who ever truly protected me, and I will make Erick pay for everything he did to us.
8.4
Aiden Armstrong, CEO of skylight group and boss of the Dark Flood mafia, has a dark fetish for virgins-an obsession that leads him to Avery Kingston.
He was in need of a wife in order to get control of his grandfather's legacy. The Kingston's offered him a proposal, one where both sides benefits. He gets a wife to keep his inheritance and a virgin who was just his type in exchange for a huge sum to aid the Kingston's escape bankruptcy.
Avery, forced into marriage with Aiden, an unknown dangerous looking handsome fellow by her family, soon discovers the journal of her husband's fetish and catches him cheating. She becomes a different and better version of herself vowing to get back at all who had wronged her.
As she builds herself and takes revenge, she finds more secrets about her family, her mom's death and Aiden's past.
Amidst disappointments, plots for revenge and abduction of Avery, Aiden discovers he had fallen in love with her but is it seemed to be a little too late until they were both placed in a situation that was to end both their lives but turned out to be a moment for truth, reconciliation, love and fresh start.
8.9
I've always done as my father commanded-until he sells me to a family in Sicily and I become the property of Sullivan Stone.
*
I wanted her the moment I saw her-feisty, sly, and meant to be broken.
He's everything I always want to stay away from: cold, ruthless, and dangerously intent on having what he wants.
*
I'll train her, tempt her, and mold her until she fits perfectly into my hands.
But what I didn't expect was how easily his darkness would pull me in-how quickly his world would become mine.
*
But when she uncovers the secret that brought her to me, she'll realize survival always demands a price.
Running was never an option. And by the time I understand the truth, I'm already too deep in his game to crawl out.
*
And this time, that price might be our everything!
7.2
Three years ago, I used my family's tech empire to marry Damien Moretti, a ruthless mafia Underboss. I naively thought my devotion could melt his frozen heart.
But a year ago, he paraded his mistress at our family gala just because she had the face of his dead ex.
When my pathetic jealousy boiled over and I stabbed him with a letter opener, he didn't kill me.
Instead, he banished me to the freezing, decaying West Wing of his estate.
For a whole year, I was locked away like a ghost. He flaunted his mistress, orchestrated a hostile takeover of my family's company, and let his maids treat me like garbage.
When I knelt outside his door begging for a divorce, he just gripped my jaw and delivered a death sentence.
"The only way you leave this family is in a coffin."
The naive girl who begged for his love died in that cold room. I finally realized I was nothing but a profitable ledger entry to him.
When he finally opened my door again, expecting to see a broken prisoner, I slapped him across his bleeding face.
"The deal is done. I want a divorce."
I walked straight out into the freezing Chicago rain, secretly swallowed a bottle of emergency contraceptives to kill any chance of carrying his heir, and prepared to tear up his mafia rules myself.