Taming The Mafia Boss - Book 1
Marco Falcone is the new boss of the Camorra mafia, raised his entire life to take this position, with his training beginning early. He endured the worst atrocities and committed many monstrosities, earning the reputation as the Demon of the Camorra. When a union agreement with the Cosa Nostra is rejected, and they decide to give the Don's daughter in marriage to a rival mafia, Marco makes a decision.
Angela Mancini never had the life she dreamed of; she was shaped and taught how to behave, how to be the perfect mafia wife. She knew it was only a matter of time before her father pushed her into an arranged marriage. But she never imagined she would be kidnapped on her big day by the Camorra boss himself, the most feared and ruthless man in the mafia.
He didn't expect the innocent and virginal princess to drive him wild with attraction. Meanwhile, she is willing to do anything to avoid being destroyed by his monstrous nature. But how could they escape their own hearts?
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Chapter 2
I stood before Giovanni Mancini, the Capo of the Cosa Nostra, hyper-aware of his every move. After all, I knew he was capable of many things.
The last time our people met was two years ago when we sealed our truce to focus on our common enemies. Back then, my father was still the Capo of the Camorra. Now, that title was mine, and the matter at hand was even more urgent.
"The Russians are forming alliances, marrying, and uniting their organizations. We can't just keep attacking them only for them to send more men the next week," I said calmly and directly, my fingers interlaced on the table, projecting a composure I didn't truly feel. After all, we were still enemies, even under a truce.
"I agree with you. I've heard they're making ties with the cartels and planning to join forces with the Japanese. We can't let that happen, or it'll be an even bloodier war," Mancini replied.
At least he was sensible. I knew Giovanni was ruthless, unafraid of wars or new challenges. He would do anything to put the Famiglia first, so I hoped today's matter would be resolved quickly and easily.
"That's why now is the time to extend this truce, uniting the Camorra and the Cosa Nostra, expanding our territory and firepower!" I declared, catching him off guard. His gray eyebrows shot up, showing he hadn't expected this. "A marriage. We'll unite our people with a sacred union that will bear children, the fruits that will seal the future of our empire."
"Marriage? And who would marry?" he asked, seeming genuinely intrigued. "You're the Capo and at a great age for marriage, but your brother would also be a fine match for this deal."
Nero shifted slightly behind me, likely uncomfortable with the idea of marriage since he had a genuine aversion to relationships. I shared the sentiment-any thought of being tied to one woman made me want to claw my eyes out-but these times called for drastic, even uncomfortable measures.
"I'll be the one to marry, Mancini. I'm proposing to marry your daughter!"
He narrowed his eyes, studying me while I kept my expression neutral, as if this were an everyday matter. But the truth was, I had planned everything, weighing all the pros and cons.
I couldn't deny that seeing photos of Angela Mancini helped me make that decision. The woman was a vision-delicate, beautiful, with eyes that seduced despite the innocence she exuded. I was eager to meet her, to be close to her, because everything I'd uncovered about her wasn't enough to truly know who Angela was. It was just crumbs about the Capo's daughter.
"And you expect me to hand my daughter over to you, so you can take over our entire organization as well?" he accused, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Frank slide his hand inside his jacket, where I knew my second-in-command carried weapons and knives.
"Are you accusing me of trying to double-cross you, Mancini?" I asked, deepening my tone and letting him draw his own conclusions about what would happen here if he didn't choose his words carefully. After all, we were on my territory.
"Don't misunderstand me, but that's what it looks like. Angela is my firstborn, but one day everything should pass to my son, not my daughter's husband. You're influential, with a lot of power, and could sway everyone in your favor."
"I didn't call you here for that. If you don't trust your men, that's your problem, not mine. What I'm proposing is an alliance, a union to win this war and expand our territory."
Giovanni stared at me in silence, pushing my patience to the limit. I knew he didn't care about the girl. Angela was of no use to him beyond a good marriage, and I highly doubted he'd marry her to someone outside our dark world.
And that only led me to think he was scheming something else, plotting a plan in that dirty little mind of his.
"I'll discuss it with the council," he said finally, standing and extending his hand toward me. "I'll give you an answer by tomorrow."
I shook his hand and nodded in response before he left the nightclub's office. The door closed, my men returned to their posts, and I finally let out a breath, slumping carelessly into the chair.
"Do you really think he'll talk to the council?" Frank asked while my brother poured us each a shot of whiskey.
"He will, but it's definitely for another reason. I'm almost certain Giovanni will make this same proposal to another organization just out of spite," I muttered, grabbing the glass and staring at the amber liquid, so similar to Angela's eyes.
Her name evoked an angel, matching her appearance, while I was seen as a demon-the most feared and bloodthirsty man in the Camorra.
"I'll alert our informant," Frank said, leaving to ensure the new information reached us.
"You could make this proposal to other organizations too," my brother said, slumping into the chair Giovanni had just vacated. "Why not propose it to the Japanese before they ally with the Russians? Or go straight to the Bratva-a blonde wife wouldn't be so bad."
I smirked at him, taking a sip of the whiskey. Yes, I could do that, but it wasn't what I wanted. I had no interest in alliances with the Russians beyond hatred, not at the moment. Though Nero's idea wasn't bad, my focus was elsewhere.
And it didn't take two days for our suspicions to be confirmed. Our informant provided Mancini's location, confirming he had gone to meet with the 'Ndrangheta bosses.
"He'll pay dearly for this. He'll wish he had accepted my deal," I growled, watching the bastards part ways after sealing their agreement.
"You know he hates us, ever since our father killed his during the war," Nero said.
"It was war, Nero. What did you expect? People die on both sides. He shouldn't be so prideful as to be this foolish," I said through gritted teeth. "We're going to take her. We'll steal Angela Mancini from right under their noses, on her wedding day."
"Have you lost your mind, Marco?" my brother pressed. "Make the same proposal to the Bratva, marry a Russian, and make them suffer!"
"Maybe you should listen to your consigliere," Frank said from the front seat as we watched them leave. "Let them think they've won, and we'll come back even stronger."
No! I couldn't let them hand her over to that worm. The little angel would be mine. Soon, she would be Angela Falcone, carrying my name and showing everyone she belonged to me.
"If you're so sensible, marry a Russian yourself. I'd be more than proud to make that deal in your name, Nero," I said, my final word. "Prepare for the attack. We have one month to plan everything, and I don't want any mistakes."
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7.4
Bloody Love
7.4
Vivian Harrison used to be an ordinary nurse at the hospital, but she had the rare Rh-negative blood type.
Three years ago, she saved the life of the king of the underworld, Archie Palmer, who had been on the brink of death, with her blood. From that moment on, she had completely fallen for him.
However, when Archie awoke, he just coldly handed her a marriage contract. "I never owe anyone a favor."
The marriage, in the name of repaying a favor, became a gilded cage that confined Vivian for three years.
Archie made Vivian his wife, yet he gave all his tenderness and devotion to a vivacious and innocent woman-Cassie Fuller.
He would drive across half the city on a stormy night just to stay with Cassie because she was afraid of the dark.
He would spend a fortune at an auction to acquire a piece of priceless jewelry, because Cassie said she liked it.
Yet, all he ever offered Vivian was endless indifference and suspicion.
When Cassie suffered even the slightest grievance, he would unhesitatingly lay all the blame on Vivian and even torment and punish Vivian in the cruelest ways. "Your blood disgusts me as much as you do, Vivian."
Later, when Vivian took a fatal bullet for him and lay bleeding on the ground, he walked coldly past her, holding the frightened Cassie in his arms, without sparing Vivian even a glance.
At that moment, Vivian finally understood that this marriage was nothing but a joke from the start.
She decided that she would no longer play along with Archie.
But when Vivian, her body battered and broken, resolutely left Archie, and Archie, who had always claimed he never loved Vivian, for the first time felt his eyes sting, and frantically searched for her all over the world.
7.6
I thought my biggest problem was Adrian Blackwood, the arrogant guy I used to hate from a rival crime family. But things took a darker turn when I accepted a job as a nanny for a little girl, only to find myself in the dangerous world of Leo Weston, the ruthless leader of the Spanish Cartel. Leo became obsessed with me as soon as I turned him down. My "no" only made me want me more, I could feel the danger in every look he gave me. Just when my life was already complicated, Adrian came back to my life. The man I once couldn't stand is now crazy about me. And I can't deny the chemistry between us, it's intense, wild, and electric. Both men are determined to claim me, my body and soul, but I refuse to be a pawn in their twisted game of power and lust. With danger at every corner, I must navigate a world full of betrayal, drama, and steamy encounters. But the clock is ticking. Can I escape before I'm consumed by their desires? Or will I lose myself entirely to the heat of their obsession?
8.3
The last thing I remember is my fiancé, Cayden, toasting to our future. The first thing I hear when I wake up in a hospital is him telling the city's most feared Don to pretend to be my fiancé instead.
A doctor says I have severe neurological damage. Amnesia.
Then, my best friend, Vivian—the girl I considered a sister—walks in. Her hand is linked through Cayden's arm, her head resting on his shoulder. They look like a perfect, loving couple.
I hear Cayden's frantic voice in the hallway, not even bothering to whisper. "Please, Liam," he begs the Don, Liam Hewitt. "Just do me this one favor. I need a break from all her marriage talk."
Then his voice turns slick with temptation. "As her 'fiancé,' you can finally get her to sign the demolition agreement for the Owen manor. She'll do anything you ask."
My heart turns to a pile of cold, dead ash. The man I loved and the woman I trusted didn't just betray me. They tried to erase me.
When they all step back into my room, I steady myself. I look past Cayden, past Vivian, and fix my eyes on the most dangerous man in the city.
A faint smile touches my lips. "Only you feel familiar," I say to Liam Hewitt, my voice a soft, broken thing.
"Fiancé," I say, the word tasting like poison and opportunity. "I'm sorry, I seem to have forgotten your name. Take me home."
8.7
She was his enemy. Then she was his prisoner. Now, she is his soul-bound prey.
Arielle Monet was raised to be a queen of the French Syndicate-loyal, lethal, and silent. When she is captured by the ruthless "Devil of Marseille," Girard Roux, she prepares to endure hell for her family. She waits for the rescue that will never come.
Then comes the shattering truth: Her father didn't lose her. He sold her.
Marcel Monet used his own daughter as a sacrificial lamb, a distraction to buy his escape while the wolf tore her apart.
But Girard Roux doesn't want her blood. He wants her name, her spirit, and her life. In a move that shocks the underworld, he forces a ring onto her finger and a vow onto her lips. Trapped in his ancestral estate, Arielle expects a marriage of cold revenge. Instead, she finds a world of dark, carnal hunger and a terrifying secret hidden behind Girard's golden eyes.
He isn't just a Don. He isn't even human.
As the moon rises and the beast within her husband begins to howl, Arielle faces a choice that will stain her soul: Run from the monster who bought her, or surrender to the Alpha who promises to burn the whole world down for her.
One vow will bind them. One truth will break them. One taste will change everything.
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.
9.2
For three years, I was the one scrubbing the scent of blood from his hands and holding him while he screamed in pain. I was the one who taught Coleton Barron how to walk again after the car bomb nearly took his legs.
But the moment he reclaimed his seat as Don, I became invisible.
At his recovery gala, he draped his arm around Charly—the woman who fled when he was crippled—and laughed as he told his inner circle I was "just the hired help."
It didn't stop at insults. When Charly faked a fall, he shoved me aside with enough force to crack my skull against the pool edge.
When a bomb went off in a gallery, he looked me in the eye, saw me trapped under debris, and turned his back to carry her to safety instead.
He even held a gun to my head because she lied about me poisoning his soup.
His mother threw a check at me, telling me that tools go back in the box when the job is done. They thought I would beg to stay. They thought I was weak.
I took the five million and vanished without a word.
Three years later, I returned to New York. Not as his nurse, but as the fiancée of the only man Coleton fears.
And when he saw the diamond on my finger, the King of New York finally realized he had thrown away his only lifeline.