Sold to the Mafia king
His eyes returned to me-slow, assessing. Then, without warning, his hands shot up and clamped around my throat.
I gasped, instinctively clawing at his arms. He didn't move. "Disobey me again," he said, voice low, stripped of warmth, "and we won't be counting next time."
Even shaking, I lifted my chin. "Then don't mistake silence for obedience," I said hoarsely.
Carlino's voice followed-calm, absolute, as if nothing had happened. "Lock her floor tonight."
That was when it settled. There was no mercy here. No exaggeration. Every word, every threat-he meant them.
He wasn't pretending to be the devil. He simply didn't bother hiding it.
---
She hates him.
He refuses to let himself want her.
Lina Gray never thought love would betray her. Until the man she trusted, traded her life to pay his debts. Delivered into the hands of Carlino Lacentra, the Mafia king whose name ends conversations. Lina is stripped of choice and crowned Donna to secure a throne she never asked for. In his world, power is law, loyalty is currency, and a woman beside the king is never just a woman.
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Chapter 6
Lina's POV
The moment we stepped into the room, every gaze snapped to him.
I stayed half a step behind, tray balanced in my hands. But the second I shifted out of his shadow, the attention followed-sharp, curious, predatory. The kind that didn't bother pretending. Heat crawled up my spine. I lifted my chin anyway.
There were many of them. Twelve, maybe fifteen. Men who looked like they'd buried secrets and people with the same calm hands. Everything about them screamed danger-the expensive kind.
"Why are you standing?" he asked. I opened my mouth, but he didn't wait.
"Serve them." He added, moving past me and claimed the chair at the head of the table-less a seat, more a throne. The room subtly bent around him as he sat.
Whispers broke out immediately.
"A girl in the Don's house?" One questioned.
"How's that possible?" Another question.
"She must be another slut he decided to let out." Another dropped his opinion.
I didn't let myself flinch. I flipped the first plate and began serving. My movements were smooth, deliberate. If they wanted a show of weakness, they wouldn't get it from me.
Most of them were older-late thirties, forties, some older still. Faces carved by power, patience, and long memory. A few were young enough to still believe themselves untouchable.
"Eyes down." Carlino's voice cut clean through the noise.
I obeyed-but only after a beat. Long enough to remind myself I still owned that choice.
A throat cleared.
"I'm sure you acquired the girl through... negotiation," a man said calmly. His voice was careful, measured. Not rushed. Not foolish. The kind of voice that had learned when silence was sharper than threats.
A pause.
"If you're open to transferring ownership, I'd be willing to compensate you generously. Or-name a price. I'll meet it." My fingers tightened around the tray.
I shouldn't have looked. I knew that. But I looked anyway. Our eyes met.
He was around forty, maybe a little more. Not loud in presence, but commanding in a restrained way. Sharp features. Controlled posture. Dark hair brushed with grey at the temples. His gaze didn't leer-it assessed. Calculated. Like I was an equation he wanted solved.
Another throat cleared.
I turned toward Carlino. He lifted his gaze slowly. "She's not merchandise." The room went dead still. "She was traded to me," he continued, voice even, cold steel beneath it. "Which means she belongs under my protection, my rule, and my silence."
A ripple of unease spread across the table. "You don't get to price what's already mine, Kenji Sato." The name landed heavy.
Kenji's lips parted. "Pad-"
Carlino raised a hand. That was enough. "We should discuss why this meeting was organized," Carlino said flatly. "I don't have time for useless conversations."
Then his eyes flicked to me. "And you." I stiffened.
"I told you-eyes down. Out."
Something sharp rose in my chest. Fear, yes. But also something stubborn. Something angry.
I lowered my head-but not before straightening my shoulders.
"Okay," I said, steady enough to surprise even myself. I set the tray down carefully. No rush. No panic. Then I turned and walked out.
Not run.
I stopped just outside the door, the door slightly ajar, I peeped through as voices resumed inside.
"Don Lacentra," a man said, "there's been a slight dip in the northern routes. Not much. But enough to be noticed."
A pause.
"Define slight, Ruggero," Carlino replied.
"Three percent," Ruggero said. "Maybe four. Street level hasn't felt it yet, but the warehouse arrivals are moving slower."
I held my breath. Something was shifting.
And whatever it was, I had the sinking feeling I was standing closer to the center of it than I should be.
Carlino leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing-not in surprise, but calculation. "Supply or demand?" he asked.
"Neither," another man cut in. "Transport. Two of our carriers altered schedules without notice. Claimed mechanical issues."
Carlino hummed softly. "They don't change schedules unless they're told to."
"No," Ruggero agreed. "They don't."
Silence settled. Heavy. No one rushed to break it.
"And the product?" Carlino asked.
"Clean," Ruggero replied. "Same quality. Same sources. No contamination."
Carlino nodded once. "Then someone is testing patience, not declaring war." A few men nodded in agreement.
Another shifted in his seat. "There's also the stock issue you asked about. The white shipment from Valencia moved slower than projected."
"How much slower, Luca?" Carlino asked.
"Two days," Luca replied. "Not enough to raise flags. Enough to start whispers." Carlino's fingers tapped once against the armrest.
"Whispers," he said quietly, "are louder than gunfire." The room went still again. "Here's what we'll do."
Every spine straightened. "Ruggero," Carlino continued, "split the northern distribution. Half moves east for the next ten days. No announcement. No explanation."
Ruggero nodded. "That'll rebalance demand."
"Matteo," Carlino said, turning his gaze. "Replace the two carriers. Don't fire them. Just... let them rest."
A faint smile tugged at Matteo's mouth as he nodded. "Understood."
"Luca," Carlino added, eyes sliding back to him. "Slow Valencia by another day. Make it look intentional. If someone's watching, I want them to be bored."
Luca exhaled. "Consider it done, Padrone."
Carlino folded his hands. "If this is pressure, it's polite pressure. Which means it's coming from someone who still wants to do business."
"And if it's not?" Kenji Sato asked.
"Then they'll push harder," Carlino replied evenly. "And when they do, we'll know where to look."
No threats. No raised voices. Just certainty.
He stood, signaling the meeting's end. "Adjust quietly. Keep our people paid and our surname clean."
"Don Lacentra," a voice called as he turned to leave. An older man stood slowly, measured in every movement. "They say an old law lingers in the shadows of every throne," the man began. "A king without a queen is a king waiting to fall. Alone, he may command armies, amass wealth, and strike fear into men-but a crown without an anchor will always sway."
The room listened.
"Without her-the partner, the strategist, the one who steadies the hand-the empire becomes a candle in the wind. Bright for a moment. Then gone."
Carlino faced him fully now. "I have ruled for years," he said calmly. "I do not need a queen."
The old man didn't flinch. "Then by law," he replied, voice steady, "the throne will be taken from you and handed to another lineage."
The words hung there. Unchallenged.
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8.7
Alessia Marino is a regular nanny until she is hired to care for the Mafia King's children.
Enzo Rossi is the stunningly attractive King of Mafia, but his ex-wife cheated on him. He would have murdered her, but he does not want his children to know he killed their mother.
He has no time for children, and every nanny that comes along tries to cling to him rather than the children; this is his final straw, and maybe his second love.
What if they become entangled in a love that refuses to end?
8.9
Isabella Romano is the neglected princess of her family, casted away unknowingly by her father, she has lived with her mother all her life, seeking some fatherly love but she learnt to stop caring. Now after a reckless night she finds herself tangled in the sheets of a man she was told to always hate. Vladimir Volkov. A man far more scary that what she has been told, he is not just the boogeyman he is the one you send to kill the boogeyman. Imagine her shock when she finds out she hasn't just gotten the attention of The Russian Don but is also carrying his child
Follow the hate to love relationship of isabella and Vladimir and watch how they navigate their life in his dark world that he dragged her to, making her and his unborn child a target to the new arising enemy that aims to destroy both the Italians and the Russians.
9.3
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.
7.7
My husband, Hudson Higgins, used my dowry to buy his way into the Chicago underworld while his family treated me like a servant in my own home. I endured their insults for the sake of my five-year-old daughter, Josie.
But then, the unthinkable happened. I found Josie's small, lifeless body by the garden fountain, while my sister-in-law Karly and mother-in-law Eleanor stood by, complaining about their party plans.
"She was just too naughty," Karly sneered, adjusting her pearls over my dead child.
When I turned to Hudson for help, he looked at me with dead eyes and told me it was just her fate. In that moment of absolute grief, I remembered the words of the ruthless Don Damien Falcone: "Your husband is a man who knows how to close a deal."
The truth sliced through me like a blade. Hudson hadn't just ignored the Don's interest in me; he had actively sold me to the Devil of Chicago to buy his seat at the table. He let his family punish me for the very sin he committed.
I had lost everything-my dignity, my mother, and now my baby-all sacrificed for a man who traded his wife's body for power. The sorrow in my chest evaporated, replaced by a scorching, blinding thirst for a blood vendetta.
After lunging at Hudson and feeling the world explode into white, I opened my eyes to find myself back in the winter of 1928. It was the exact night the nightmare began, and Don Damien Falcone was walking toward me in his penthouse.
This time, I won't be the broken bird in his gilded cage. If Hudson wants to use me to climb the ranks, I will use the Don's dark obsession to burn the Higgins family to the ground.
8.9
I spent five years protecting Grafton Mcleod, the ruthless King of Chicago. Not because I loved him, but because I swore a blood oath to his dying brother to keep him alive.
On the day my contract ended, I placed my resignation on his desk.
Grafton didn't just refuse it; he laughed.
"You don't resign, Cayla. You belong to me."
He thought I was a jealous, obsessed assistant in love with him. He let his cruel fiancée, Cherrelle, torment me daily.
He forced me to drain my own blood to save her after she faked an accident.
He threw me into a freezing fountain when she lied about me pushing her.
But the final straw came when he dragged me to a syndicate gala. He didn't take me as a guest. He put me on stage, in a silk dress and a collar, and sold me to his enemy for five million dollars.
"This is what happens to property that misbehaves," he sneered as the gavel came down.
I escaped that night, but I didn't run away. I drove to the bridge where his brother died.
I left my phone on the railing and let the icy water take me, finally free of my debt.
It was only when Grafton stood on that bridge, holding my cracked phone, that he learned the truth.
He unlocked it and saw my wallpaper. It wasn't him. It was his dead brother.
And the diary inside revealed that the woman he was about to marry was the one who had ordered the hit that killed him.
7.1
"You broke the first rule, Princess. That means I get to take something from you. I'll start with this," he said, tugging at my panties and a needy throb ran straight through my core.
"Kyren, don't," I tried but it was to no avail.
He roughly pulled at the flimsy material, covering my most intimate part. The sound of lace ripping, filled the room. And the cool air from the AC bit into my exposed skin.
His hands slid up my back. He unclasped my bra with ease and it soundlessly dropped to the floor. His gaze raked over my trembling form with a satisfied hunger.
"You're not a cheerleader tonight. You're just mine. And I'm going to spend the next few hours showing you exactly what happens when you break my rules," he stated, before pushing my legs wide open with his knee.
××
Hailey thought she could handle the "Ice King." She thought she could seduce him, win the bet, and walk away with her heart intact. But Kyren sees right through her games. He doesn't want her seduction, he wants her submission.
As the lines between a dare and reality blur, Hailey finds herself trapped between her father's expectations and a man who wants to claim every inch of her. In a game where the rules keep changing, Hailey is about to learn that the Ice King doesn't just freeze people out... he burns them down.