Kissing The Boss's Daughter
Elara Valente has lived her life under her father's control, a mafia princess trapped in luxury. But when she meets Luca, a humble baker who sees her for who she truly is, her world begins to change.
Secret meetings, stolen moments, and forbidden attraction ignite a slow-burning romance-but danger lurks at every turn. With a strict father, an arranged marriage, and watchful cousins, Elara must choose: follow her heart, or obey the world she was born into.
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Chapter 6
Elara pressed her back against the cold brick wall of the mansion's side corridor, listening to the fading murmur of her cousins' footsteps. Each heartbeat throbbed like a warning drum. The small servant's door she had discovered yesterday loomed before her, unassuming yet brimming with possibility-the first real chance to step outside Rafael Valente's golden cage.
Her fingers trembled as she turned the latch. The alley beyond seemed darker than she remembered, shadows pooling in corners, the faint hum of the city hinting at life she had never been allowed to witness freely. Elara inhaled sharply, fear and exhilaration prickling her skin.
For years, she had watched life from behind tall gates, guarded and scheduled, every step monitored by cousins who took their roles far too seriously. But tonight, she was untethered. She could move, breathe, even think without her father's shadow pressing down. Yet, the thrill of freedom was inseparable from the risk it carried.
The city unfolded like a story waiting to be written. Lamplights flickered against wet cobblestones, reflecting in puddles. Smoke and distant food stalls scented the night, intoxicating her senses. And above it all, the faint aroma of fresh bread drew her further down the narrow streets.
She moved silently, careful of watchful eyes she knew might lurk even here. Though her cousins had yet to discover this escape route, a slip could mean immediate punishment. But the thought only made her pulse quicken-fear and excitement danced together in her chest.
The bakery she had glimpsed the night before came into view, its warm glow spilling across the wet street. Her stomach tightened. Each step closer felt like entering another life, one she could almost touch. She paused, savoring the thrill, before pushing open the door.
Inside, the scent enveloped her-yeast, sugar, and the faint tang of rising dough. And there he was. Luca Romano, kneading a fresh batch of dough, looked up. Their eyes met.
"Back again?" he asked, playful, flour clinging to his fingers. No judgment-just curiosity and warmth that made her chest tighten.
"Yes," she whispered. "I... couldn't resist."
He smiled effortlessly. "Good. Then you're welcome here, always."
Elara's fingers tightened around her sleeve. How could she exist as herself here, in this tiny haven, without her father's shadow looming over every word? She simply nodded, letting the bakery's warmth fill the silence.
"You have to be careful," Luca said softly. "Someone could see you coming here."
"I know," she replied, a shiver running down her spine-not entirely from the cold. "I just... needed a taste of normal life. Even if it's just a little while."
He studied her, dark eyes searching. "Normal is overrated. But it's nice, I suppose, to feel... free, even for a moment."
Caught off guard by his understanding, she blinked. Most people didn't get it-not staff, not townsfolk who saw her as a mysterious high-maintenance young woman. But Luca... there was something steady about him, making her feel she could exist in his presence without scrutiny.
The moment stretched. A fleeting touch as he passed her a loaf, a subtle brush of shoulders, made her breath catch. Dangerous, thrilling-she had never anticipated this.
Suddenly, a distant shout echoed from the alley. Her pulse spiked. Could it be a cousin? A guard? Panic flared, but Luca's calm presence grounded her. He gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod, a silent assurance she was safe-for now.
Elara tucked the loaf under her arm. "I have to go," she said, voice tight but resolute.
He stepped closer, warmth brushing her side. His eyes held hers, intense, unreadable. For a heartbeat, the world contracted between them.
"Be careful," he whispered. "Don't let them catch you."
"I won't," she promised, words daring fate itself. She slipped into the night.
Her steps carried her back to the mansion, the stolen loaf tucked close, her mind alive with adrenaline and wonder. Freedom was intoxicating, dangerous, and beautiful. And one thought lingered more insistently than all the rest: Luca Romano. The baker with steady eyes, patient hands, and a smile that promised something she had almost forgotten she could feel.
And with that, she knew she would sneak out again.
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8.6
I was eight months pregnant with the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. My husband, Austen, told me he was hosting a private celebration to honor me and the baby.
But when I walked into the warehouse, the steel doors slammed shut behind me.
I wasn't in a ballroom. I was locked inside an industrial glass freezer.
Through the thick glass, I saw Austen standing with his assistant, Deb. They were laughing. He told me he didn't care about his son; he only cared about the trust fund that would unlock upon my father's death.
"Cool her off," he ordered.
His men dumped buckets of ice water onto me. The shock was instant. I begged him to stop, screaming for the life of our child, but he just watched with cold eyes.
As I collapsed into a slush of ice and my own blood, I felt the baby fade away.
Austen thought he had won. He thought my father, the Don, was dead and buried. He thought I was just a helpless, spoiled princess he could dispose of to seize the throne.
He was wrong.
With my last ounce of strength, I looked through the glass and mouthed three words: "He is coming."
Before Austen could react, the warehouse doors didn't just open—they exploded inward.
And through the smoke walked the man Austen thought was worm food.
My father wasn't dead. But my husband was about to wish he was.
9.5
I was a disgraced heiress hiding as a dishwasher in a high-end club, scrubbing lipstick off glasses until my fingers went numb. One night, I was forced to deliver a bottle of vintage whiskey to the penthouse, only to find the tech billionaire Kenan Cervantes collapsing from a lethal neural storm. I used my surgeon’s training to save his life, holding him in the dark until his fever finally broke.
The next morning, the world I knew shattered. My coworker Tiffany, who hadn't even stepped foot in the room, claimed my identity as the savior. She signed a non-disclosure agreement and walked away with a $200,000 check, while I was accused of stealing the whiskey and had my entire month's wages forfeited as punishment.
While Tiffany was flaunting Chanel suits and posting photos from his balcony, I was being shoved into the mud by my abusive foster father in a dark alley. I watched from the shadows as Kenan stepped into his luxury car, looking right through me with nothing but cold distaste. To him, I was just "street trash" cluttering the sidewalk, while the imposter was the "angel" who had stabilized his heart.
The injustice felt like a physical weight. I had quieted the noise in his brain and kept him from the brink of death, yet I was the one facing eviction and hunger. I didn't understand how he could be a genius and still be so blind to the truth, rewarding a thief while I rotted in the basement.
Everything reached a breaking point when Tiffany forced me to sneak into his penthouse to help her maintain the lie. But Kenan returned from Tokyo early, finding me on the terrace with his military-grade protection dog. The beast that had tried to bite Tiffany was now resting its head in my lap, protecting me from its own master.
Kenan dropped his briefcase, his eyes locking onto mine as the fragmented memories of the storm finally clicked into place.
"You," he whispered.
9.0
Velma spent ten years as Dylan's wife, enduring his mother's cruelty and constant reminders that she was barren-an orphan who didn't deserve him. When she finally became pregnant after a decade of trying, everything fell apart.
Forced to sign divorce papers, heartbroken and pregnant, Velma disappeared.
Five years later, she returned as the world's most famous artist. By her side: Theron, a patient and wealthy man who helped her rebuild her life, and the son Dylan never knew existed.
She came back for an art exhibition, but fate forced her to work at Dylan's fashion company.
The moment Dylan saw her, everything changed. She was no longer the quiet, broken woman he'd divorced. She was confident, powerful, radiant-and married to another man.
Dylan groveled. He begged. He humbled himself in ways he never imagined, willing to do anything to reclaim the wife he'd lost for a second chance.
But Velma was no longer the woman who lived in anyone's shadow.
Will she forgive the man who broke her heart? Choose the man who rebuilt her? Or rewrite the rules and have them both?
Click to find out... This is a why choose when she can have both book.
8.4
For three years, Aletha sold her soul to her adoptive family, enduring a toxic, loveless marriage to Wall Street tyrant Kristopher.
But the illusion shattered when Kristopher brought his crying mistress into Aletha's ER.
He violently shoved Aletha into a metal cart just because she applied standard medical pressure to the mistress's minor scratch.
"If you ever handle her like that again, I will have your medical license revoked."
The nightmare quickly escalated. Kristopher froze Aletha's bank cards, publicly humiliated her, and forced her to hand over a priceless gown to his mistress.
When he was injured in a car crash protecting the mistress, Aletha flawlessly stitched his hand back together.
In return, he dragged her to a freezing warehouse at 3 AM to illegally save the mistress's criminal brother, only to abandon Aletha alone in the dangerous streets of Brooklyn.
Her adoptive parents didn't care if she lived or died. They only called to scream at her, demanding she get on her knees and beg Kristopher to restore their company's funding.
Staring at her bruised reflection, Aletha felt entirely hollowed out. She couldn't understand why her absolute submission only bought her betrayal and abuse from everyone she called family.
But as the tears dried, the fear that had controlled her evaporated, replaced by cold steel.
She opened her hidden wall safe and pulled out the documents proving she was "Lan," the world's most sought-after millionaire designer.
Aletha shredded her family's contract, put on a sharp black power suit, and headed to her husband's company.
This time, she wasn't going to beg.
9.0
I was a wolfless Omega, forced into a humiliating contract with Alpha Declan just to keep my mother's life support running.
Four years ago, he publicly rejected me as his Fated Mate, treating me like a shameful secret.
But one night, I unlocked his tablet and discovered the sickening truth.
He already had a "Chosen Mate," Karly, and a secret daughter named Ava.
While I was fed gray nutrient paste like a stray dog, he was parading them around as his perfect family.
He even moved them into the master suite and tossed out the last wooden toy belonging to my dead son.
Worse, I found out my own stepbrother was Karly's spy, helping them keep me in the dark.
The week I was hemorrhaging in the hospital, terrified of losing my baby, Declan wasn't fighting a border war. He was buying Karly diamonds in Paris.
The week my mother suffered a massive stroke, he abandoned her to take his secret daughter skiing.
I was entirely alone, a convenient shield for his lies.
But the absolute betrayal burned away my lingering grief, leaving behind a freezing, unbreakable clarity.
I didn't just want a divorce anymore; I wanted to burn their entire world to ash.
So, I slipped a forged termination agreement into his stack of Pack contracts.
Blinded by his own arrogance, the Alpha signed my freedom without even looking.
Holding the legal key to my cage and a folder full of his treacherous secrets, I sped out of the manor and dialed an encrypted number.
"It's time. Unleash hell."
9.5
"Yes, you have to. The mate bond deserves that respect in the least. If you want to reject me, do it looking me in my eyes." I had no idea how he moved so fast - probably courtesy of his Alpha abilities - but he stood before me.
His fingers lifted my chin so my eyes could meet his gaze. "Reject me by looking me in the eye." His eyes searched my face.
I shook my head as I struggled to hold back tears.
He pinned me on both sides, my eyes widened in slight fear when I saw the frustration and anger. "Reject this!" He growled before slamming his lips into mine.
Scarlett Melton was moved from her old pack by her stepfather who moved to Stone Shadow pack to find the family he abandoned a long time ago. Being a weak Omega with a health condition who has been bullied, abused and insulted all her life, she does not expect to be mated to the first son of the most powerful Alpha who's also her stepsister's brother-in-law.
She is happy about the bond but her manipulative stepfather has other plans and now, she has to give Baron Salvatore a good reason why she rejected their mate bond even when her heart and eyes are saying otherwise.