Luciano's Forbidden Desire
She's sin wrapped in a nun habit.
He is the devil who makes her want to confess.
Luciano Moretti, the mafia's most feared enforcer, kills without hesitation, prays to no god, and bleeds for the Cosa Nostra.
Sister Elizabeth has spent her life behind church walls, burying her desires under layers of penance and prayer. She is supposed to be untouchable-a quiet, secluded nun devoted to faith.
But when she finds him bleeding on the altar one night, their worlds collide in a sin neither heaven nor hell can cleanse.
He's meant to marry her sister to seal a deal between two mafia empires.
She's meant to keep her vows and distance.
But temptation has a cruel sense of humour...
Because he's the last man she should want.
She's the only woman he can't have.
But one touch, one look, and everything sacred begins to crumble.
Luciano does not seek salvation. Instead, he lures her into a dangerous path, one that includes everything she is meant to avoid, and everytime she whispers "forgive me, Father," her soul sinks deeper into him.
As bloodlines clash and loyalty turns to betrayal, Elizabeth learns that the war outside the chapel isn't the only one she must survive. Because Luciano's world is built on violence and secrets, one of which binds her fate to his in ways neither of them saw coming.
Desire clashes with devotion.
Duty turns to betrayal.
And when they're both drowning in a love so forbidden, not even God can save them.
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Chapter 6
Chapter Five
••~••°••~••
Luciano
••~••°••~••
When Alessandro Moretti, the capo dei capi and my cousin, enters the study, everyone stands and keeps standing until he takes his seat at the head of the table. No one knows why we've all been summoned.
The last time we had this sort of meeting, we ended up having a raid on the Russians. Lots of blood spilled and lives lost.
My favourite thing to do.
Now, I have this feeling we're not here for the Russians, but something else entirely. And the suspense is killing me.
I've never been a patient man with these kind of things.
Alessandro turned towards the guard and motioned his head towards the door.
"Leave and close the door. Make sure no one else comes in, not even my wife."
The guard nodded quickly, making his way to the exit and locking the door after him. Alessandro leaned back in his chair, eyeing us all like he was contemplating the right time to drop the bomb he had in mind.
"As you already know, the Russians are after something we want," he said, pausing for a moment and allowing his words to sink in. "And in case we've all forgotten what it is, I'll remind you. Stefano Bianchi, my father's late underboss has a land and this land has proven to be an effective route for us... for smuggling our containers. We need to gain control over it by any means."
"And what's stopping us?" I blurt out before anyone could.
Alessandro shifts his gaze to me, letting it linger on my side where the bullet grazed against my skin two days ago before fixing it back to my face.
If he's disappointed, he doesn't show it. The man has a way of masking his emotions.
"Stefano left the land in the possession of his wife and two daughters. My father and Stefano had a rift before he died, one that extended to his family. So, we can't just ask them for the ownership of the land because unfortunately, it won't work that way. And we can't kill them too, if that's what you're thinking. They've got the FBI's backup somehow, even though they have no idea what the land can be used for. If we kill them, it'll attract the cops to our doorstep, snooping where they shouldn't. We don't need that right now."
"I didn't think the old man had it in him to be this smart. He's dead and still causing problems," Marco muttered to himself, but with the expression on everyone's faces, I'm sure everyone caught it.
"Which is why I've decided to handle this the old-fashioned way before the Russians get hold of it. That family has got all we need-their land and to add to it, Stefano has a file that contains some of our deadliest secrets. Secrets that we can't let get out, because if it does..." He paused, his stare shifting from each of us, "Then the FBI gets hold of it. The bastard knew this would happen which was why he insured his family against this. He made sure to state that if anything happens to them, it should be traced back to us. And those women have no idea what they're deep into."
Nicholas cleared his throat, his fingers drumming against his thigh. "Stefano knew we would want this which was why he got the FBI as insurance. What do you think we should do? Because you've already said we can't kill them."
Alessandro raised his eyebrows. "We can't. Like I said, we're doing this the old-fashioned way."
"Which is?" Sergei, the consigliere and the only one who seems to think things through before acting asked.
"We have to organize a wedding to seal a deal between us and the Bianchis. That's the only way we can gain access, at least for a while until we take possession of what we want and the file we're looking for." He leaned forward, taking a long look at each of us. "So, who would like to volunteer to be the lucky groom?"
Nobody said a word. Probably because it wasn't what we were expecting or perhaps, no one wanted to be saddled with the burden of having a wife.
Either way, no one is talking.
Alessandro got married two years ago and I'm sure the man thinks that because his marriage clicked for him, then it'll be the same with us all.
Love.
That's what it does to you-it fills you with illusions that have no possibility of coming true.
I wonder who he will pick, because if no one volunteers then he'll definitely be choosing someone. It won't be me, because everyone knows am a blood thirsty lunatic. My dealings with humans have only ended with their blood all over me, and sometimes... with me having a little taste of it.
My eyes find their way to Marco and Nicholas. Those two look horrified at the news. They never thought a day would come when they'll sit and talk marriage.
When I take my eyes off them, Sergei's stare meets mine and I know exactly what he's thinking.
It's either him or me.
"What, no one wants a pretty woman? Maybe this will help change your mind." He reaches into the pocket of his jacket, takes out a photo, and passes it to Nicholas. "Gemma Bianchi, the available daughter of my father's underboss, and the perfect wife for the lucky groom," he revealed, while a smirk remained on his face the entire time he spoke.
The man thinks this is funny.
"Marriage is terrifying. Imagine having to fuck one pussy for the rest of your life. I'm sorry-no, can't do," Marco murmured, raising his hands in the air. "Pick Nicholas. He's ready."
Nicholas snapped his head to the side so quickly that I'm sure he must have cracked a bone. "I'm not getting married. That's the least of my priorities. Come to think of it... it's not even on my list of priorities."
Alessandro smiled, his stare settling back on Sergei and I.
Well, I'm not getting married either. So it has to be Sergei or we're finding another goddamn way around this.
"It's not a matter for contemplation. One of you has to step in. This land is a great smuggling route for a lot of traffickers and buyers. I will not lose it because someone thinks marriage is terrifying."
I felt my body go still at the mention of traffickers.
It's been long since I've heard someone mention them.
What if this is the opportunity I've been waiting for all these years?
What if this is the right time to figure out who my sister's killers were?
A land route great for smuggling would definitely attract them... it'll lead me to them for sure.
This is my chance. The only chance I've got.
I take the photo Sergei passes to me and look down at it.
Gemma.
I can manage an engagement with her until her family hands over control of the route.
Until I'm able to avenge my sister's death. Grinding my teeth, I pass the picture back to Alessandro.
"I'll take her," I announced.
As expected, absolute silence filled the room and all eyes focused on me. Even Sergei looks surprised. I turn to Alessandro who regards me with his eyebrows raised.
"You will marry her?" he questions in disbelief.
"Yes. Invite them over. The earlier we start courting, the faster we can get this over with."
"I was planning to give her to Sergei if no one volunteered. He's the only one that's calm enough to stay with a woman for as long as we pull this through."
I shrugged, leaning back into my chair. "Well, too late. I've indicated interest."
Silence ensues again, but I notice the guys throwing looks in my direction. They're probably wondering what has gotten into me to claim an actual human being for myself. But I can't tell them why. No one is supposed to know, including Alessandro.
Because if I do tell them, they'll fucking want to get involved.
Alessandro watches me too, like he's trying to figure my state of mind out. He can try all he wants but he wouldn't find anything.
He shakes his head, settling into the chair. "Let's organize a wedding then."
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7.7
Bella arrived New York City with ambitions, goals and desperate hunger to escape poverty. Raised by her single poor mother along side beloved sister Emily, Bella believed the only way to succeed and save her family from the ruthless hands of poverty was education.
After countless denial and rejection letters, she finally gained admission into one of the most prestigious universities in the country. What she doesn't realize is that stepping foot into that campus would pull her into a dangerous world of obsession, wealth, and power She never knew existed.
Benson Vale is everything Bella despised, Arrogant, untouchable and born into privilege.
As the heir to a billionaire empire, Benson is being forced to get married in order to acquire his inheritance something he dreaded with passion, but Bella crashed into his life and his tightly controlled world starts to unravel.
Lurking in the background is Angella Browns, Benson's childhood friend and the campus self proclaimed queen bee. Obsessed and possessive Angella would do whatever it takes to keep Benson all to herself even if it meant destroying Bella's life to pieces.
When tragedy strikes and secrets begins to unfold, Bella and Bensons relationship are bounded together by a dangerous DEAL - one that could either save or destroy them both.
As danger draws closer Bella must not only fight for justice but also uncover the truth behind her sisters death and choose Whether love was meant to survive in a world filled with Wealth, Power, and betrayal.
It was never meant to be love until fate made them collide.
9.1
I stood alone at the marble altar, the silence of the temple pressing against my eardrums.
It was my Mating Ceremony, but the groom was missing.
My phone buzzed with a notification: a livestream of my mate, Alpha Cain, skipping our union to welcome my sister, Eris, home.
In the video, he held her like she was fragile glass, captioning it: "True power recognizes true power."
When I returned to the Pack House, humiliated, I wasn't met with an apology.
I was met with a slap from my mother.
Eris, feigning a powerful "Alpha Aura," claimed my mere scent was poisoning her.
To "save" her, my family locked me in my room.
But the true betrayal came when I overheard their hushed whispers through the door.
"Use Vera," my mother said, her voice chillingly practical.
"She recovers fast. We can drain her blood weekly for Eris. She can stay as a servant to raise Cain and Eris's pups."
My blood ran cold.
They didn't just neglect me; they planned to harvest me like livestock.
They thought I was the weak Omega they exiled to the North years ago to peel potatoes.
They had no idea that in the North, I wasn't a servant.
I was Commander V, a warrior forged in ice and blood.
I reached under my bed and pulled out my black tactical duffel.
"Screw the meatloaf," I whispered.
I wasn't just leaving. I was going to war.
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."
8.7
I died in a mangled wreck of metal and fire, abandoned by the man I thought was my soulmate. But instead of the void, I woke up pinned against a cold marble wall, staring into the turbulent, storm-gray eyes of Damian Vincent.
This was the night I destroyed my life. In my past world, I spat in Damian's face and ran into the arms of Eddie, a parasitic loser who was secretly plotting with my cousin Jill to strip me of my inheritance.
My "escape" turned into a slow-motion suicide. My brother Donavan died in a horrific car crash while racing to save me from another one of my messes. Damian, consumed by a toxic mix of grief and vengeance, crushed the Nelson family empire until my father was a broken man. I spent years as a drugged-up social pariah, finally dying alone while the people I trusted laughed at my funeral.
The most bitter realization didn't hit me until the end. The "controlling monster" I spent years fighting was the only person who ever truly protected me. I had traded a man who would burn the world for me for a man who would burn me for the world.
Opening my eyes three years in the past, I find myself back at the airport, the rain lashing against the windows. My brother is pleading with me to run, and Damian is standing there, braced for the slap he thinks is coming.
But I don't strike him. I press my palm to his burning cheek and give him the only piece of my soul he couldn't buy.
"I'm not going anywhere, Dami. Keep this as my collateral."
The game has changed. This time, I'm not the victim-I'm the one holding the match.
7.2
I was dying in a rusted warehouse, paralyzed in a wheelchair while the man I loved and my own stepsister watched with smiles on their faces. The air smelled of old oil and damp concrete, and my vision was fading into a milky haze.
Dillon, the man I’d sacrificed everything for, smoothed his custom suit and pulled out a syringe filled with a clear, lethal neurotoxin. Beside him, my stepsister Bianca toyed with my mother’s sapphire ring—the one they’d just pried off my hand while I was too weak to even make a fist.
She leaned in and whispered that my father’s trust fund was already offshore and that they’d sent my husband, Kade, to the wrong coordinates to ensure he’d only find my corpse. Dillon slid the needle into my vein with the chilling efficiency of a man who had done this before.
"This will stop your heart in thirty seconds," he said, sounding as bored as if he were explaining a tax form. Ice flooded my chest, and my lungs seized, fighting for oxygen that wasn't there. As the warehouse lights blurred into white streaks, an explosion echoed in the distance. Kade had come for me, but he was too late.
I died staring at the ceiling, my heart giving one last violent kick of pure, unadulterated hatred. I had been such a fool, believing Dillon’s lies and running away from the only man who actually cared for me. I died with a single thought: if I ever get another chance, I will drag you both to hell with me.
Then, there was nothing. And then, there was air.
I sat up gasping, my silk pajamas drenched in cold sweat. The rusted beams were gone, replaced by a vaulted ceiling and the glittering Manhattan skyline. I grabbed the digital clock on the nightstand—it was five years ago, the exact night I first tried to run away with Dillon.
The bedroom door slammed against the wall, and Kade Mullen stood in the doorway, looking dangerous, furious, and very much alive. I looked at my shaking hands, then at the man I had once hated. This time, I wasn't going to run. I was going to make sure Dillon and Bianca lost everything.
8.4
Juliette was an agriculture major desperately trying to get top-tier CRISPR potato data from Adrian Castillo, the untouchable physics genius and wealthy heir.
But to get it, she was dragged to a high-end shooting club, where Adrian suddenly lost all his legendary motor skills, shooting zeroes and acting like a helpless nerd.
His clumsy act made Juliette a target. Blair, a wealthy heiress, cornered her, mocking her mud-stained cargo pants and calling her a pathetic dirt-girl.
"If you lose, you leave this club and never speak to Adrian again."
Blair challenged her to a professional air pistol match. The crowd of elites laughed, waiting for the farm girl to humiliate herself.
Even worse, Adrian just stood behind her, pretending to be terrified of Blair and whispering that his sinuses would swell shut if Juliette didn't save him.
The mockery and judgment felt suffocating. Everyone thought she was just a desperate fangirl who didn't even know how to hold a gun.
But they didn't know the dark trauma she had buried years ago. And she didn't understand why Adrian, a man who could supposedly shoot a coin at eight hundred meters in a sandstorm, was deliberately playing weak to push her to the firing line. What was his sick endgame?
To secure her experimental fertilizer, Juliette finally stopped hiding.
She picked up the competition pistol, locked her perfect stance, and fired ten flawless shots.
108.5. Total, undeniable annihilation.