OWNED BY THE RUTHLESS MAFIA
I was never supposed to step into his world.
I was just a daughter trying to survive the wreckage of a father's mistakes. A quiet girl living a small, careful life-until one night shattered everything I thought I knew about fear, power, and possession.
They say the mafia doesn't forgive.
They say debts are paid in blood.
They never warned me that sometimes, the price is a woman.
Luciano De Luca.
The name alone makes men lower their voices and avert their eyes. A king without a crown. A devil in a tailored suit. He rules the underworld with calculated brutality, commanding loyalty through fear and obedience through bloodshed. To him, mercy is a weakness-and love is a lie told by foolish men before they die.
Luciano is not a man you reason with. He is power, violence, and control wrapped in a deadly calm. A mafia king who destroys without mercy and takes without permission.
When my father fails to pay his debt, Luciano takes me instead.
I become his collateral.
His punishment.
His possession.
Trapped in his world of blood and secrets, I am nothing more than a reminder of betrayal-kept under his watch, bound by his rules, and stripped of every illusion of freedom. Luciano made it clear from the start: I am not his guest. I am not his lover. I am not free. I am his possession. He watches me like a predator studying prey-cold, assessing, waiting for me to break. He expects fear to reduce me to nothing. He expects me to beg. To submit.
But I don't.
And that defiance ignites something far more dangerous than hatred in him.
But somewhere between the locked doors and the whispered threats, I realize something dangerous: the man who owns me is far more broken than he wants the world to know.
Luciano De Luca is ruthless-but he is not heartless. He is controlling-but barely. And every time I challenge him, every time I look him in the eyes without flinching, something dark and volatile stirs beneath his calm exterior.
Luciano doesn't love. He claims. He controls. He owns.
Yet the more he tries to crush my spirit, the more obsessed he becomes. His protection turns violent. His control turns suffocating. His eyes follow me like a promise and a threat all at once.
He says I am his weakness.
His mistake.
His curse.
Yet when enemies circle too close, it is Luciano who shields me with his body. When danger threatens, it is his voice that growls warnings, his hands that tighten possessively, his presence that promises violence to anyone who dares touch what is his.
Because once a mafia king decides you belong to him...
escape is no longer an option.
I am trapped in a golden cage built from power, luxury, and danger-but the greatest threat isn't the guns, the blood, or the men who would kill for him.
It's the way Luciano looks at me when he thinks I'm not watching.
The way his control fractures when I'm hurt.
The way his name feels dangerous on my lips.
Because loving a mafia king is not a fairy tale.
It's a war.
A war between survival and desire.
Between freedom and obsession.
Between the girl I used to be and the woman his darkness is shaping me into.
The deeper I fall into his world, the more I uncover secrets buried beneath his cruelty-betrayals that made him this way, scars that never healed, enemies that would destroy us both if given the chance. And as the line between captor and protector blurs, I'm forced to face a devastating truth:
The man who owns my body may soon own my heart.
But loving Luciano De Luca comes at a cost.
Because in his world, love is a liability.
And the moment he chooses me...
is the moment he paints a target on my back.
Will I escape the man who claims to own me?
Or will I surrender to the darkness that refuses to let me go?
In a world ruled by blood, power, and betrayal, one innocent woman will discover that the most dangerous thing of all...
is being loved by a ruthless mafia king.
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Chapter 8
The mansion felt different in the aftermath of the previous night. The storm outside had passed, but the air inside remained charged, heavy with tension, as though every shadow held a secret and every hallway hid a threat. I stayed close to the walls, gripping the edge of the marble banister as I tried to steady my racing heart. Luciano's absence left a hollow space in the corridors, but I could feel him everywhere at once-the weight of his presence lingering like smoke.
Footsteps echoed from the far wing of the mansion. The guards were alert, but even they moved with a measured caution I had never seen before. Someone had breached our sanctuary, and the knowledge settled like ice in my stomach: the world outside was no longer just dangerous-it had found its way in.
Luciano appeared without warning, moving like a shadow along the corridor. Wet hair clung to his forehead, and his suit, dark as midnight, reflected the dim light. He didn't acknowledge me immediately. His gaze swept the hallway, assessing, calculating, predatory. I realized that even now, after months of living under his scrutiny, I could never predict him completely.
"They know where you are," he said finally, his voice low, almost a growl. "And now... they'll try again."
I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "What... what do we do?"
He stepped closer, every movement deliberate. "We survive. You follow me. You do exactly as I say. And if you hesitate..." His eyes darkened, lethal. "...you die."
The words sank into me like stones, heavy and suffocating. Yet even in the midst of fear, I couldn't deny the thrill that ran through me-the dark, forbidden excitement of standing next to a man who could obliterate everyone around him without a second thought. I hated that I felt it. I hated him for it.
The mansion corridors became a maze of shadows and whispered threats. Luciano led the way, silent and precise, every step controlled, every glance calculated. I followed, heart hammering, trying desperately not to stumble, not to make a sound. Every movement I made was being measured, judged, and claimed. I understood instinctively that in his world, hesitation was dangerous-and rebellion was lethal.
A sudden noise-a vase crashing, the soft clink of metal-made my blood run cold. Luciano's head snapped toward it instantly. His body tensed, coiled like a predator, and before I could react, he raised his hand sharply, signaling me to stay behind.
The first intruder appeared-a masked man, tall, armed, confidence radiating off him like heat. He didn't know what he was walking into. Luciano didn't hesitate. He moved with lethal precision, his body fluid, controlled, every strike efficient, decisive. The man went down without a sound, incapacitated, but alive. I blinked, heart hammering, stunned by the violent grace of it.
Luciano's hand brushed my waist lightly as he passed me. The contact was brief but suffocating in its intensity-claiming, protective, possessive. My pulse spiked, and I hated that it did.
"Do not move," he whispered, voice low and growling. "Do not scream. Do not defy me now-or you die."
I nodded mutely, unable to form words, the heat of his proximity leaving me dizzy and breathless.
The night stretched into a blur of shadows and whispered commands. Intruders came and went, some retreating, some taken down before they could react. Through it all, Luciano's control was absolute. He didn't just fight-they obeyed the rhythm of his power, the beat of his authority. I understood then that this wasn't just protection-it was a demonstration. A warning. A lesson.
And I was at the center of it.
He moved through the corridors, always a step ahead, always aware. Every time a figure lunged from the shadows, he was there in an instant, pulling me back, shielding me, claiming me. I realized in that moment that my survival wasn't just about obedience-it was about being inseparable from him, about existing within the orbit of his lethal world.
And yet, even as I acknowledged that, part of me rebelled silently. Part of me hated that I couldn't run, that I couldn't escape.
After the last intruder was neutralized-or escaped, I wasn't sure-the mansion returned to a tense calm. Luciano didn't speak immediately. He simply stood, dark eyes sweeping the space, as if the shadows themselves were extensions of his will.
"You are unharmed," he said finally. "Tonight could have ended differently. The next time... there may be no warning. No chance for retreat."
I swallowed hard. "I... understand," I whispered.
"Good." He stepped closer, hand brushing my cheek lightly. The gesture was casual, almost tender, yet charged with a possessive energy that made my stomach tighten. "Do not mistake survival for safety. The danger isn't just outside these walls. It is everywhere. And now... everyone knows who you are, and what you mean to me."
The words sank deep. My pulse raced-not just from fear, but from the suffocating, intoxicating weight of his claim. I realized fully that I was no longer just collateral. I was a target, a weapon, a part of his empire, and entirely in his possession.
He moved past me to the study desk, flipping through a file with methodical precision. I watched, heart hammering, as images of my family, my life before him, threats, and leverage were displayed. Luciano had not just claimed me. He had marked my world, and nothing I had known about safety or control mattered anymore.
I felt the walls closing in, the mansion shrinking around me. Every shadow, every hallway, every corner seemed alive with danger. And I realized the truth I had been trying to avoid: there was no escape from him. Not here, not anywhere.
The fire crackled in the study hearth, casting flickering shadows across his face. He turned to me, expression impossible to read. "You wanted to survive," he said, voice low, dangerous. "Now you will learn what it truly means to be near me. Loyalty is not given. Obedience is not optional. And fear... fear is a tool. Learn it, or it will consume you."
I swallowed, trying to steady my trembling hands. The room seemed impossibly small, every inch dominated by his presence. I hated how safe I felt near him, how his shadow comforted me even as his words terrified me. I hated the way my pulse spiked when he moved closer, when his hand brushed mine. And yet, the truth was undeniable: he had marked me. Not just physically, but mentally, emotionally.
And I couldn't escape him-not the man, not the world, not the danger.
He stepped closer, hand sliding along my arm, thumb brushing lightly against my wrist. "You are mine," he said softly, almost a growl. "And there is no turning back. You cannot run. You cannot hide. Not from me. Not from what comes next."
My chest tightened, fear and something darker coiling inside me. I hated it. I feared it. And yet... part of me, the part that had begun to recognize the pull of his power, leaned in despite everything.
Because the truth was terrifyingly clear: he was not just my captor. He was my force of survival. My obsession. My danger. My darkness.
And I... I was his.
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9.1
Waking up with a cold, scaly hand wrapped around my throat wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was realizing I'd transmigrated into the body of Terra Mason—the most despised woman in the entire Enclave. She drugged high-level beast-men and forced them into life-binding bio-contracts. She locked an aquatic warrior in a dry basement until his organs failed. She treated the most lethal males in the city like broken toys.
Zev, the Level 6 serpent who's currently choking me, would rather blow up his own heart than spend another day as my slave. His affection metric? Negative ninety. His trust? Zero.
Then my system activates: the Kore AI. It gives me exactly 500 credits, a medical nano-gel, and a recipe for neutralizing the radioactive poison in mutant meat. Real food. In this world, that's worth more than gold.
I save Rhys, the dying aquatic male everyone left for dead. I season a slab of purple mutant steak until Sam, a battle-scarred grizzly shifter, groans at the taste—and his trust points finally tick above zero. When my backstabbing ex-best friend tries to steal my males and destroy me, I don't scream or throw a tantrum like the old Terra. I dismantle her with the truth.
But earning their trust means more than grilling meat. A scorpion swarm ambushes us at midnight. Sam throws himself between me and a stinger the size of my arm. As he stands over the corpse, fur receding from his claws, he stares at me and whispers, "You were testing me."
Yes. I was. Because in this world, the weak don't survive. And I refuse to be weak again.
Four beast-men. Four contracts. One system. And a whole lot of steak. Let this dystopian wasteland know—I'm not the monster they remember. I'm worse. I'm the one who's going to feed them until they'd kill for me.
9.2
She loved him until she lost herself.
Now, behind locked doors and shattered glass, she must learn to breathe again.
When she first met Lloyd, he was magnetic and intoxicating. The kind of man who turned every head when he entered a room, who spoke in promises sweet enough to taste. With him, she felt chosen, cherished, and safe.
But safety was an illusion, and love became a weapon.
And slowly, piece by piece, he dismantled her until nothing of the woman she once was remained.
Now institutionalized after a breakdown, she begins to piece together the brutal truth of what really happened in the shadows of their love story. Memories sting like open wounds: the manipulation disguised as tenderness, the apologies that blurred into threats, the desperate hope that tomorrow he'd be the man she fell for again.
Yet beneath the grief and the shame, a quiet rebellion stirs, a vow to reclaim her voice, her freedom, and her life. Because this is not just a story of how she fell apart. It is a story of how she rises.
Haunting, raw, and achingly intimate, Boys like him peels back the glittering mask of a toxic love affair to reveal the kind of darkness that hides in plain sight, and the unbreakable strength it takes to escape it.
7.5
Raven Noir, stolen and sold at birth, a lethal assassin scarred by a decade-old rape, infiltrates billionaire Damien Blackwood's elite nightclub empire as stripper, her cover to get close enough to torture and kill the man who unknowingly fathered her daughter. Damien, captivated by her icy control and commanding presence, pulls her deeper with lucrative nights and charged intimacy. But when he encounters her identical twin, the buried memories flood back. Mistaking the twin for his victim, guilt drives him to propose marriage. Devastated, Raven faces an impossible choice: expose the truth, seize her revenge, or let obsession destroy them all in a dark, slow-burn thriller of betrayal and forbidden desire.
7.9
He tilted her chin up, his touch deceptively gentle.
"You're trembling," he whispered, brushing his thumb over her lips, slow enough to make her shiver.
"Is it fear..." His gaze lingered on her mouth. "Or me?"
Her pulse stuttered, betraying her. He was too close, and her body didn't seem to remember which feeling came first, terror or desire.
****
Elena Castellano never thought her father would trade her freedom to keep her safe. But after a violent attack changes everything, she is forced to marry the one man she has every reason to be afraid of, Stefano Bernardo, the ruthless heir to one of Milan's most dangerous families.
To the world, it's a union between two powerful families.
To Stefano, it's the sweetest revenge.
Stuck in a marriage built on deceit and danger, Elena must fight not only for her freedom but also for her life, because Stefano's revenge runs deeper than she ever imagined.
And if she truly wants to live, she must face the truth: the real danger isn't her husband's revenge; it's falling for him.
He married her to destroy her family.
But she might become the death of him - literally.
7.6
The drill's whine was the only thing in my world, vibrating through my skull and drowning out my own screams.
I was strapped to a cold metal table, paralyzed by wolfsbane, while surgeons bored into my hip bone to siphon my essence.
"Just a little more," the surgeon muttered. "Isabella needs the boost for the wedding photos."
They weren't saving my sister's life. They were harvesting my marrow just to make her skin glow for a picture.
I looked at the observation window, begging with my eyes.
Dante, the Alpha I had dragged from the jaws of death, stood there. He wasn't looking at me. He was holding Isabella's hand.
He didn't know I was the one who healed him. He believed her lies.
"Take it all if you have to," Dante's voice drifted through our fading mate bond. "Don't let her fade."
The drill punched through. My heart stuttered and stopped.
I died on that table, a hollowed-out husk used to feed my sister's vanity.
"Seraphina! Are you deaf?"
A sharp voice snapped me back into existence.
I gasped, clutching my hip. No blood. No drill. No pain.
I looked at the calendar on my father's desk.
I was alive. And I had exactly one year before the surgery that killed me.
I looked at my trembling hands and felt the ancient anger of my White Wolf stirring.
I wasn't going to be the sacrifice this time.
I was going to be the arsonist.
7.7
Rejected by the Lycan King, Awakened as Luna
One Night. One Rejection. One Child Who Will Rewrite the Moon.
She was never meant to survive the night she spent with the Lycan King.
Drawn into the heart of Lycan territory under a fractured moon, she crossed paths with the most feared ruler of their world-a king forged in dominance, command, and ruthless control. One night of instinct and forbidden desire bound them together in a mate bond neither could deny.
By dawn, he rejected her.
Cold. Public. Absolute.
But his cruelty hid a truth he could never speak-a prophecy written in blood and moonlight, one that promised her death if he claimed her. To protect her, he severed the bond with his own hands and cast her out, knowing she would hate him... and believing hatred was safer than love.
Banished into the snow, wounded and alone, she did not beg. She did not break.
As the cold claimed her strength, a single thought anchored her will: "I must survive."
And beneath her numb fingertips, silver light flickered-unseen, unrecognized, awakening.
She survives the exile only to discover the impossible. She carries the Lycan King's child.
A child conceived under a fractured moon. A child whispered to be born not of love, but of dominance and defiance.
While the world believes her broken, her body begins to change. Her power is not claws or combat-but something far rarer. Lunar healing flows through her veins, mending bodies and binding loyalty. Empathy awakens with it, allowing her to sense emotions, calm rage, and later... bend dominance itself. In exile, she becomes a quiet force-saving lives, gathering allies, and growing into a leader no one expected.
When the Lycan King learns the truth, regret does not drive him.
Obsession does.
He does not ask for forgiveness. He demands possession-only to find the woman he discarded no longer kneels to kings. Every forced reunion becomes a war of wills, every near-touch burns with unresolved desire, and every step closer ignites the truth he has avoided: she is no longer his weakness.
She is becoming the Luna that the moon itself has chosen.
As enemies rise within the Lycan court and rival Alphas circle the child who could unmake kings, the Lycan King faces a reckoning no crown can shield him from. To claim her heart, he must surrender more than pride. He must sacrifice power. Reputation. His throne.
And she must decide whether love-once broken-can ever be earned again... or whether her destiny lies in ruling without him.
This is not a story of gentle mates or easy forgiveness.
It is a dark, obsessive romance where survival becomes strength, power awakens through pain, and love is forged through sacrifice.
She was rejected.
She survived.
And now, the moon answers only to her.