My Sexy Sassy Boss
May Boston is a sassy, powerful woman who owns the biggest fashion agency in the city. Her perfectly controlled world is thrown into chaos when she crosses paths with Luca, a homeless man suffering from amnesia.
Out of pity, and curiosity, she lets him live with her. What she does not expect is to be bossed around in her own house, treated like a subordinate, and willingly doing everything he asks. Slowly, without realizing it, May falls deeply in love with him.
That turns out to be her greatest mistake.
Because before Luca lost his memory, he was the ruthless king of the largest Mafia group in Italy, Oliver de Luca
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Chapter 4
The drive to the company was quiet but tense.
May focused on the road, fingers tight around the steering wheel, irritation simmering beneath her composed exterior. Luca sat in the passenger seat, gaze fixed on the towering structure ahead, eyes narrowing slightly as the building came fully into view.
"That's yours?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied shortly.
He leaned forward a little, studying the glass-and-steel tower that dominated the skyline. "It's...big."
She glanced at him. "You're not coming down."
He turned to her slowly. "Why?"
"Because it wouldn't be nice," she said coolly. "And because your clothes are starting to smell. There's no spare outfit, and I won't have my staff gossiping."
He looked down at himself briefly, then back at her. "You should've warned me."
"I warned you not to touch anything in my car," she snapped. "That includes getting comfortable."
She parked and killed the engine. "Stay here."
Luca lifted a brow. "I'll try."
She didn't miss the faint amusement in his voice, and it annoyed her more than she cared to admit.
Inside the building, heads turned instantly.
May felt it the moment she stepped in...the surprise, the confusion, the whispers. She was never seen like this. No perfect hair, no tailored suit, no calculated polish. Just May, sharp-eyed and irritated, moving with purpose.
"Is that...?"
"She looks different."
"Did something happen?"
She ignored them all and headed straight for the elevator.
Serena Vale was already waiting when she entered her office.
Tall, flawless, dressed like she was about to step onto a runway rather than into a meeting, Serena leaned against the desk with clear impatience etched into her expression.
"You're late," Serena said.
"You're demanding," May replied calmly, dropping her bag. "That balances us out."
Serena's lips tightened. "I'm here because your agency promised exclusivity for the Milan campaign. I don't do shared spotlights, and I don't compromise."
May folded her arms. "And I don't renegotiate contracts because someone woke up dissatisfied."
The meeting dragged.
Serena complained about creative control, about photographers, about styling teams that didn't revolve entirely around her preferences. Each demand chipped at May's patience, her irritation growing with every minute wasted.
Then the noise started.
At first, it was faint...murmurs, then giggles, then raised voices. May's gaze flicked instinctively toward the glass window blinds that overlooked the staff offices. She rose slightly, pulling them aside just enough to see.
Women clustered together.
Blushing. Whispering. Laughing.
And in the middle of it...
Luca.
He stood near the reception desk like he belonged there, one hand dipped casually into his pocket, posture relaxed, expression unreadable. His presence alone seemed to bend attention toward him, staff lingering longer than necessary, glances stolen openly now.
May's stomach dropped.
"You have got to be kidding me," she muttered.
She turned sharply and stormed out, heels striking the floor with barely restrained fury. As she approached, she could hear it.
"He's so tall."
"Is he a model?"
"Those eyes..."
Luca looked up when he saw her, unfazed.
"You told me not to come down," he said calmly.
"I told you to stay in the car," she hissed.
"The heat was unbearable," he replied. "I needed air."
"You touched my car?" she snapped.
"No," he said. "I suffered."
She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them. "You are impossible."
He leaned slightly closer. "Get me hot tea. The air conditioning in the car is killing me."
Her glare could have drawn blood.
She grabbed his arm and pulled him toward her office. "One more word out here and I will personally escort you back to the hospital."
Inside, Serena looked up instantly.
Her gaze locked onto Luca...and stayed there.
Too long.
May noticed.
Luca noticed too.
Serena straightened, smile slow and deliberate. "Well," she said softly, "you didn't mention you'd bring company."
May gestured toward the chair beside Serena. "Sit."
Luca did, unbothered, crossing his leg with effortless confidence.
Serena's eyes never left him.
He glanced at her once, then said flatly, "You're not good-looking enough to stare at me for that long."
The room went dead silent.
Serena stiffened. "Excuse me?"
"I don't repeat myself," he replied calmly.
May didn't know when it happened...but she smiled.
Serena stood abruptly, face flushed with anger. "This is unacceptable."
"So are your demands," May said smoothly.
Serena grabbed her bag. "We'll revisit this."
"Or we won't," May replied.
The door slammed behind her.
May leaned back against her desk, exhaling slowly, then glanced at Luca.
"You are a problem."
He met her gaze evenly. "You brought me here."
She smiled again before she could stop herself and that annoyed her most of all.
*
The rest of the day should have gone smoothly.
It didn't.
By noon, May realized she had somehow become Luca's errand girl.
"Water," he said at some point, not looking at her.
She ignored him.
Five minutes later..."It's warm in here."
She clenched her jaw and adjusted the temperature.
When one of her staff offered to help, Luca dismissed them with a glance so cold the woman visibly stiffened before retreating. Another tried again, smiling politely, and he responded with silence so heavy it made May sigh in frustration.
"Stop intimidating my employees," she snapped under her breath.
"I didn't say anything," he replied calmly.
"That's the problem."
Every time someone else tried to assist him, he either ignored them or gave them a look that suggested they were beneath acknowledgment. Eventually, the staff stopped approaching him altogether and looked to May instead.
And she hated that they were looking at her like that.
By late afternoon, her patience was thin, her schedule wrecked, and Luca looked...completely unfazed. Exhausted physically, yes, but mentally sharp, observant, commanding in a way that made it impossible to forget he was not an ordinary man.
When they finally left the building, May didn't speak until they were halfway home.
Traffic was terrible. Someone cut her off aggressively, honking as they sped past.
Luca's jaw tightened. "Vaffanculo."
She turned sharply. "What did you just say?"
He glanced at her briefly. "I don't know."
"That's Italian," she said slowly.
He frowned. "It is?"
Her grip tightened on the steering wheel. A memory surfaced suddenly, uninvited...the airport, the collision, the man who had brushed past her muttering the same word in the same accent.
Her heart skipped.
She glanced at him again. "You cussed at me like that before."
"When?" he asked.
"At the airport," she said. "You bumped into me. Same accent. Same word."
He went quiet.
She studied his face, searching for recognition, for anything. "Are you Italian?"
He stared ahead for a long moment. "I don't know," he said finally. "The word just came to my head."
That unsettled her more than she cared to admit.
She looked back at the road, unease curling slowly in her chest, the realization sinking deeper with every mile.
Luca might have lost his memories...but his instincts were still very much alive.
And May Boston had brought them home with her.
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7.9
Rose was so naive that she didn't know Jonah, her ex-fiancé, was cheating on her even before her wedding day. On the night before her wedding, she caught him cheating on her with the last person she would ever expect him to be with, Rebecca.
Out of anger and spite, she cursed at them and left, then went and got herself drunk and made out with a mafia don, who, oblivious to her, was her fiancé's stepbrother and his boss.
On the day of the wedding, she stormed in and canceled it, calling Jonah out. After the embarrassment, Jonah vowed to make her life miserable. She tried to get a job, but it was almost impossible because of the influence Jonah had.
So she went to the greatest mafia don that her friend Lucy recommended to her. When she went to ask for his help, the don turned out to be the mysterious man who had been showing interest in her, but she had kept declining. Unbeknownst to her, he was her ex-fiancé's boss and stepbrother.
She asked for his help, and he offered it, of course, but on one condition.that she would be his mistress !.
8.7
"You're leaving," Lorenzo said softly.
Ivy straightened her spine and raised her chin. "I am. I'm getting out of this place even if it means climbing over the front gates. I can't stay here anymore. I'm leaving!"
"You can't," Lorenzo said flatly. "Not now."
"Watch me," Ivy hissed, brushing past him.
Lorenzo stepped in her way and grabbed her by the arms-not roughly, but firmly.
"I mean it, Ivy. You can't leave," he said tightly.
She struggled against his grip, her bag falling to the floor with a thud.
"Let me go, Lorenzo! I don't belong here. This place is insane. Your family is insane!"
"You belong to me," he said sharply, eyes burning into hers. "And it's my job to protect what's mine."
"I don't want to be yours," Ivy cried. "I want to be free! I want to live!"
Something shifted in Lorenzo's face. He looked at her then, not as an obligation, not as a pawn, but as a person. A frightened, strong, beautiful woman who had been caught in a storm she never asked for. And something in him cracked.
Lorenzo reached down and cupped her face with both hands. Ivy flinched at first but didn't pull away. His thumbs wiped away the tears rolling down her cheeks.
"I never wanted to hurt you," he said quietly.
Her lower lip trembled. "Then let me go..."
"I can't," he whispered.
And then, without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her.
***************
Ivy Wesley believed that marrying a wealthy stranger would be her golden escape from a life of struggle. Lorenzo Martinelli was supposed to be her way out: her fresh start, her answer to every prayer whispered in the dark.
But the moment the mansion doors shut behind her, Ivy understood the truth. She hadn't stepped into a fairy tale. She had walked straight into the lion's den.
The whispers about the Martinelli family's ties to the Mafia aren't just rumors; they're real, and now Ivy is bound to them by a ring on her finger and secrets she can never unlearn. There is no undoing this choice. No clean exit. Not after what she's seen. Not after what she knows.
Surrounded by dangerous alliances, ruthless power plays, and truths sharp enough to draw blood, Ivy finds herself caught in a world where trust is a luxury and loyalty can be lethal. Yet in the middle of the chaos, something even more unexpected takes root: a love she never planned for, never prepared for, and may not survive.
Now Ivy faces an impossible choice: run while she still can, or stand her ground beside the man who could destroy her as easily as he protects her. In a world where betrayal lurks behind every polished smile and devotion can cost a life, can their love endure... or will it be the very thing that brings everything crashing down?
8.1
Warning 🔞
"So wet for the enemy", he taunted, scissoring inside me and stretching my walls.
I moaned, throwing my head back and riding his hand. When he withdrew his fingers, I moaned at the loss. Adrian took his fingers to his mouth and wiped off my juices.
Fuck!
_______
EROTICA COLLECTION!!!
Sinful Desires (Volume 1)
Ten dangerously addictive steamy romances that will leave you breathless.
From enemies to lovers, bodyguard protectors, CEO obsessions, mafia claims, and passionate vacation affair, Sinful Desires Volume 1 brings together ten standalone romances filled with steam and unforgettable Passion.
You'll meet...
A bodyguard who can't stay professional.
A CEO who risks his empire for an intern.
A mafia boss who softens only for one woman
A firefighter who turns healing into desire.
And more.
In the next collection, temptation becomes even more forbidden, desires become more dangerous, and love crosses lines it was never supposed to touch.
If you thought Volume 1 was sinful, you're not ready for what comes next so get ready because the sins only grow darker from here...
Stay tuned for Sinful Desires (Volume 2)
8.0
For ten years, I played the safe, "wolfless" emotional support animal for my werewolf best friend, Finn, secretly loving him while he chased his toxic ex.
When she got engaged to a rival Alpha, he dragged me across the country to crash the mating ceremony, only to abandon me at the airport.
His terrifying older brother, Alpha Knox, picked me up instead and shattered my world with one sentence: Finn had always known how I felt, and he intentionally weaponized my devotion.
To prove how little I meant to him, Knox orchestrated a cruel test at a seedy Rogue club.
While I sat right next to Finn in a sticky booth, Knox sent over a stripper.
"You don't mind, right, Sloane? It's just a gift," Finn slurred.
Without hesitating, he let the stripper straddle him right in front of me, burying his face in her neck to chase away the pain of his ex.
A decade of my blind loyalty turned to ash in that smoke-filled room.
I hated my defective, wolfless biology, but I hated him more for treating me like a stray dog begging for scraps.
Why did I waste my entire youth protecting a male who didn't even see me as a woman?
Suffocating on shame and fury, I fled to the cramped club bathroom to hide.
*Click.*
The deadbolt slid into place, and the intoxicating scent of a violent thunderstorm and spent gunpowder swallowed me whole.
Alpha Knox Crawford stood against the locked door, his merciless eyes pinning me to the sink.
9.0
My father arranged a marriage for my half-sister, Emmalee, with Don Damian Griffith, the ruthless "King of New York." But Emmalee, in love with a penniless lawyer, refused and, weeping, pointed at me, the illegitimate daughter, offering me as the sacrifice.
My stepmother packed cheap plastic pearls and copper chains, and my father coldly told me to "bleed quietly" if the Don decided to cut me.
"Don't think you've won, Isabell," Emmalee hissed, handing me a shimmering emerald gown, the signature color of the Don's volatile mistress-a clear death trap. Why did my own family want me dead?
As the armored car pulled away, I dumped the green silk, put on a dress of pure ivory, and fastened our family's stolen midnight-blue sapphires around my neck. They thought they were sending a lamb to the slaughter, but I was walking into the lion's den with a hidden blade.
8.2
I died on a Tuesday.
It wasn't a quick death. It was slow, cold, and meticulously planned by the man who called himself my father.
I was twenty years old.
He needed my kidney to save my sister. The spare part for the golden child. I remember the blinding lights of the operating theater, the sterile smell of betrayal, and the phantom pain of a surgeon's scalpel carving into my flesh while my screams echoed unheard. I remember looking through the observation glass and seeing him—my father, Giovanni Vitiello, the Don of the Chicago Outfit—watching me die with the same detached expression he used when signing a death warrant.
He chose her. He always chose her.
And then, I woke up.
Not in heaven. Not in hell. But in my own bed, a year before my scheduled execution. My body was whole, unscarred. The timeline had reset, a glitch in the cruel matrix of my existence, giving me a second chance I never asked for.
This time, when my father handed me a one-way ticket to London—an exile disguised as a severance package—I didn't cry. I didn't beg. My heart, once a bleeding wound, was now a block of ice.
He didn't know he was talking to a ghost.
He didn't know I had already lived through his ultimate betrayal.
He also didn't know that six months ago, during the city's brutal territory wars, I was the one who saved his most valuable asset. In a secret safe house, I stitched up the wounds of a blinded soldier, a man whose life hung by a thread. He never saw my face. He only knew my voice, the scent of vanilla, and the steady touch of my hands. He called me Sette. Seven. For the seven stitches I put in his shoulder.
That man was Dante Moretti. The Ruthless Capo. The man my sister, Isabella, is now set to marry.
She stole my story. She claimed my actions, my voice, my scent. And Dante, the man who could spot a lie from a mile away, believed the beautiful deception because he wanted it to be true. He wanted the golden girl to be his savior, not the invisible sister who was only ever good for her spare parts.
So I took the ticket. In my past life, I fought them, and they silenced me on an operating table. This time, I will let them have their perfect, gilded lie.
I will go to London. I will disappear. I will let Seraphina Vitiello die on that plane.
But I will not be a victim.
This time, I will not be the lamb led to slaughter.
This time, from the shadows of my exile, I will be the one holding the match. And I will wait, with the patience of the dead, to watch their entire world burn. Because a ghost has nothing to lose, and a queen of ashes has an empire to gain.