My Baby's Father Is A Mafia Boss
"You and your baby are mine whether you want it or not."
Renata Neroni's life was shattered the moment she discovered her boyfriend and stepsister's betrayal. In a rare lapse of judgment fueled by grief and alcohol, she spent a single, anonymous night with a stranger, unaware that she had just surrendered herself to Domenico Veronesi, the most formidable figure in the global underworld.
That night left Renata with more than just a memory; she was pregnant with the heir to a mafia empire.
As her father, desperate to free himself from the debts, prepares to marry her off to a man nearly his own age, Renata finds herself trapped. Her only escape arrives in the form of Domenico himself. Asserting his claim, he interrupts the arrangement and brings Renata to his secluded estate.
Within the fortified walls of the Veronesi estate, the man known for his cold, merciless exterior reveals a singular obsession: the protection of Renata and their unborn child.
However, Domenico's readiness to provide is met with a wall of ice.
Despite his efforts to provide for her, Renata's resentment initially hardens into a wall of silence.
To her, Domenico is simply another powerful man attempting to control her fate. However, as she is forced to navigate the inner workings of his life within the mafia world, she begins to see the man behind the fearsome reputation.
Renata discovers the deeper layers of Domenico, a loyalty and a hidden vulnerability regarding their child, and the fear that once defined her begins to dissolve.
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Chapter 3
In the evening, Renata was taken to the church where the wedding was to take place. The space was filled with people- her father's associates, wealthy businessmen, social elites, and those who had gathered not out of love, but out of obligation and curiosity.
Her hands trembled at her sides as the music began to play, signaling her walk toward a future she did not choose.
Each step she took down the aisle felt forced as though her own body was betraying her. Her heart pounded violently in her chest, and her breathing grew shallow. She could feel the weight of countless eyes on her, judging her, watching her, witnessing her surrender. She lowered her gaze briefly, her lips moving in silent prayer.
'Please... Give me a way out. Please save me from this.'
Her vision blurred as tears gathered in her eyes, but she forced herself to keep walking. She had nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.
As she finally lifted her head, her eyes fell upon the man waiting for her at the altar.
The old man, Giovanni.
Even through the thin veil, she could see the smile stretching across his face, which was full of lust.
When his tongue briefly passed over his lips, disgust washed over her. Her fingers curled tightly into fists beneath the folds of her dress as her body resisted the urge to step back.
Her steps faltered as she reached the altar. The distance between her and Giovanni was no more than a few inches now. Her body refused to move further.
Paolo noticed immediately and without hesitation, he placed his hand firmly against her back and shoved her forward.
The sudden force sent her stumbling a step closer to Giovanni. A quiet gasp escaped her lips as she struggled to steady herself, her hands instinctively clutching the sides of her dress.
"Dad... please," Renata whispered, her voice trembling as she turned her head slightly to look at him through the thin veil.
But Paolo had already turned his back on her as if his duty had been fulfilled. As if she were no longer his responsibility.
"You look breathtaking, Renata," Giovanni said. His eyes roamed over her face, her body, with shameless hunger. He reached out to grab her wrist.
But Renata immediately stepped back from him, practically protecting herself from his touch.
Whispers began to ripple through the hall. Guests leaned toward one another, exchanging curious glances and hushed murmurs.
Paolo's eyes hardened as he watched from a distance.
Giovanni's expression darkened slightly, displeased by her resistance.
"I've paid your father a great deal of money," he hissed in fury. "Do not embarrass me."
Renata knew at that moment only she could save herself. "No, I-I don't want to marry you. You're old enough to be my father and I am pregnant!"
The moment she uttered those words Giovanni's head snapped toward Paolo. Unable to control his rage, he stepped forward and held Renata's wrist.
"Ahh, let me go!!!" Renata's scream reverberated in the hall. "Someone, please help me!" She begged with pleading eyes, looking at the eyes in the hall but no one stepped forward because of Giovanni's terror.
"Start the vows!" Giovanni bellowed at the priest, who nodded in fear.
And just then, a violent gunshot echoed in the hall, bringing everyone's eyes to the door.
There stood a man, whom Renata recognized.
The father of her baby!
Domenico walked down the aisle. Though he looked calm, his eyes held something far more dangerous than anger. They held a gaze of wanting blood. He did not look at anyone else in the room. His gaze was fixed only on Renata, the woman who was carrying his baby.
Giovanni's face twisted with fury as he realized this stranger had no intention of stopping. "Stop him!" he shouted at his guards. "What are you waiting for? Stop him!"
But his men hesitated. Something about the man approaching them made even armed guards uncertain.
Before anyone could react properly, Domenico had already reached the altar. In one swift motion, he raised his gun and pressed the cold barrel firmly against Giovanni's forehead, making him freeze instantly. The confidence he had worn so proudly only moments ago began to crumble.
"Let her go," Domenico said. "Or I will empty this gun into your head."
Despite the calm in his voice, the threat in it couldn't be ignored.
Giovanni's grip on Renata tightened for a moment, his pride refusing to surrender so easily. "Who the hell are you?" he snapped, trying to sound fearless despite the weapon pointed at him. "She is mine. I am supposed to marry her. Guards, throw this man out!"
One of the guards gathered his courage and rushed forward, attempting to obey the order.
The sound of the gunshot came instantly. The guard collapsed to the ground, lifeless, before he could take another step.
Screams filled the hall. Guests stumbled backward, women cried out in terror, and men lowered their heads, afraid to even breathe too loudly. Panic spread quickly, but no one dared move toward the exit.
Within seconds, heavy footsteps sounded behind them as more men entered the church. They moved quickly and shut the large doors, sealing the hall completely. The message was clear. No one was leaving without Domenico's permission.
Domenico did not move the gun from Giovanni's head.
"I am Domenico Veronesi," he said.
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8.9
This is my story of how to lose a mob boss in ten days.
I have a
I've been arranged to marry a monster.
Run away? Good idea. Tried that. Didn't work.
Because in my family, my father makes the rules.
And he says this wedding is happening .
But he still has a soft spot for me, his last remaining daughter.
So he offers me a deal.
Take ten days.
Get to know Sasha.
See if you change your mind.
Yeah, right.
Sasha Ozerov is a beast in Brioni.
He's ruthless, flawless, utterly unconcerned with mortals like me.
All he wants is what our marriage would bring
My family's power and the city in the palm of his hand.
But maybe, if I can make him back out of the deal...
I'll keep my freedom.
So I set out to do everything I can to drive him crazy.
I have ten days to make my husband hate me.
What happens if I start to love him instead?
9.6
In the two years after I married Daniel Carter, my private photos had gone viral nine times, and Daniel had been taken into custody ten times.
Because every time his mistress, Emily Morgan, was unhappy, she would leak my private photos all over the internet.
I, Claire Parker, never let it slide. I reported every shady business Daniel was involved in and personally sent him behind bars.
That lasted until an unexpected kidnapping. I took a bullet for him, one aimed straight at his heart, and he shielded me beneath his body, taking the brunt of the explosion for me.
After we survived, the man who had always been so cold-blooded knelt before me, his voice hoarse beyond recognition.
"Honey, let's leave the drama behind. I just want a peaceful life with you."
Right in front of me, he ordered his men to send his mistress out of Northhaven and never let her appear before him again.
In the third year after we reconciled, I carried my eight-month pregnant belly and brought him lunch.
But on the way there, I was hit by a car. The hospital issued three critical condition notices, yet they still could not save the baby.
Daniel rushed over, but he did not even spare me a glance. Instead, he pulled the woman who had hit me and her child into his arms, soothing her in a low voice.
"Don't be scared. I'll protect you and the child."
Only then did I realize that the woman who had hit me was the very mistress he had sent away three years ago.
When I demanded an explanation, Daniel brushed it off as if it were nothing. "She didn't do it on purpose. Don't take it out on her and her son. You can have a baby another time."
At that moment, I finally understood. They had gotten back together long ago.
I looked at him and nodded. "Don't worry, this will never happen again."
8.0
"IS IT TRUE?" Grayson's voice thundered through the room.
"Yes!" Tessa said softly. "Yes it is!"
"So you've been cheating on me, haven't you?" He spat.
Her hands trembled. "No, I swear, it's not like that."
He grabbed her arm, his grip bruising her wrist as she squealed in pain.
"Then whose baby are you carrying, huh?" His voice was ice cold.
Tessa shivered, tears blurring her vision.
"I don't know."
**********
Pregnant with the powerful Roman Blackwood's child, while engaged to his unstable stepbrother - Tessa Quinn becomes the key to a ruthless inheritance war where love has no place.
As secrets unravel and danger closes in, Tessa must protect her unborn child while trapped between love, vengeance, and men who want to own her fate.
8.1
One wardrobe malfunction.
Two people who don't belong together.
Three awful "Be my wife."
Everyone else is at this party to marry the host.
I'm only here until I can get a ride home.
When my dress rips in the world's worst-timed wardrobe malfunction,
I go find somewhere quiet to fix it.
So I'm standing there in nothing but my heels when,
As my luck would have it, the door opens...
And the man of the hour walks in.
I wish I could say I played it cool.
But it's been a looong time since anyone has seen me in my birthday suit...
Much less the hottest man I've ever laid eyes on.
All I want to do is fix my dress, click my heels three times, and be back on my couch in fuzzy slippers.
But Ivan has other ideas.
He's decided who he's taking to the altar...
And I don't have a choice but to say "I do."
7.4
I was the wife of Damien Valenti, the most ruthless mafia Don in Chicago.
But to cement his power and marry a rival family's daughter, he exiled me to the slums without a single dime.
"Stay not as my wife, Izzy, but as my whore."
That was his final ultimatum before dumping me out of his black SUV like trash.
Terrified of losing me, my five-year-old son, Angelo, secretly hid in the car to follow me.
Two days later, in a squalid Indiana motel, Angelo caught severe pneumonia.
I had no money and no doctor. In sheer desperation, I sliced my own wrist with broken glass, pressing my bleeding arm to his pale lips, begging him to drink and live.
But my little boy died in my arms.
Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, Damien was sipping vintage champagne with his new bride, casually dismissing the life of his own flesh and blood.
The grief turned me into a monster. I spent twenty years clawing my way through the underworld to destroy his empire, only to die with a bullet in my chest.
I gave him my absolute devotion, yet he traded our family for political power without a single ounce of hesitation.
Opening my eyes again, I was back in that hellish neon-lit motel room.
Angelo was burning with fever and fighting for air, but he was still breathing.
This time, I wasn't the naive girl who loved Damien Valenti. I was a woman holding two decades of their darkest secrets, and my vendetta had just begun.
9.0
I spent a year scrubbing floors in my fiancé’s club, hiding my identity as the daughter of the Capo dei Capi.
I needed to know if Connor Bishop was a King worth merging empires with, or just a puppet.
The answer came walking in wearing a neon pink dress.
Jaden Juarez, a civilian he was infatuated with, didn't just treat me like a servant; she deliberately poured scalding espresso over my hand because I refused to be her valet.
The pain was blinding, my skin blistering instantly.
I video-called Connor, showing him the burn, expecting him to enforce the code of our world.
Instead, seeing his investors watching, he panicked.
He chose to sacrifice me to save face.
"Get on your knees," he roared through the speaker. "Beg her pardon. Show her the respect she deserves."
He wanted the daughter of the most dangerous man on the East Coast to kneel to his mistress.
He thought he was showing strength.
He didn't realize he was looking at a woman who could burn his entire world to ash with a single phone call.
I didn't cry. I didn't beg.
I simply hung up the phone and locked the kitchen doors.
Then, I dialed the one number everyone in the underworld feared.
"Dad," I said, my voice cold as steel. "Code Black. Bring the papers."
"And send the wolves."