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Taming The Mafia Man. Novel Cover

Taming The Mafia Man.

Liana thought she had left her past behind when she walked away from the life she once knew. But love, betrayal, and heartbreak taught her the cost of choosing wrong—and the scars of that choice still linger. When a stranger steps into her world, he’s everything she shouldn’t want: dangerous, unyielding, and tied to the family she deserted. Yet there’s something about him that draws her in, something that feels like fire and safety all at once. As walls begin to crumble and old loyalties resurface, Liana must decide if she can open her heart again—or if surrendering to this man will cost her more than she can bear.
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Chapter 1

The walls of Giovanni’s restaurant felt like they were closing in. My fingers trembled around the stem of the single rose I bought on impulse—Josie always said roses were too cliché, but I thought maybe today he’d smile at the gesture. I clutched it tighter, bruising the petals.

Then I heard them—voices.

“Don’t you think Liana is waiting for you at home? It’s your sixth anniversary, isn’t it?” a man laughed mockingly.

Liana. My name. My skin crawled.

“You really like them skinny, huh? Unlike your chubby, overfed wife,” another voice chimed in, sharp and cruel. A chorus of chuckles followed. I couldn’t breathe.

Josie’s voice cut through the laughter. “She doesn’t talk to Veron anymore. I made her cut her family off. She’s mine now. Obedient little Liana.”

Veron. My brother.

My knees buckled. I staggered back into the corridor wall, heart pounding like it wanted to escape my chest. How long had Josie held this contempt inside? Was it there even when he looked into my eyes and called me beautiful?

“She’s a pick-me,” he said with a whistle. “So desperate for love she doesn’t realize she’s just my convenience.”

The rose slipped from my fingers and landed soundlessly. I slid down after it, tears burning my eyes. I wanted to scream, but my throat was locked in disbelief.

---

By the time I got home, I couldn’t remember the drive. My body moved, but my mind was somewhere else—back in that corridor, listening to him tear me apart with laughter.

I dropped my purse and went straight to the bathroom. My stomach churned violently, and I vomited into the sink. When I looked up, the mirror reflected a woman I didn’t recognize. Pale. Broken. Mascara streaked like cracks on porcelain.

The door creaked open. Josie walked in.

“Liana, I’m so sorry I came home late. Work was crazy,” he said, pulling me into a hug.

He smelled like perfume that wasn’t mine.

I didn’t say a word. Just nodded and let him hold me.

“I planned something special for tomorrow—an office party. We’ll go together, to make up for missing tonight,” he said, kissing my forehead.

I nodded again.

But all I could hear was him saying, She’s a pick-me. She’s mine now. Obedient little Liana.

That night, after he fell asleep, I slid his phone from his hand. I angled it close to his face. It unlocked.

My fingers shook as I scrolled.

Becca: “You were amazing tonight. Still thinking about your hands on me.”

Josie: “You were sweet too. And Liana, she’ll never know. She’s too stupid to see it.”

Becca. His coworker.

I stared at her profile picture. Glossy lips. Tight body. Confidence oozing from her eyes. She was everything I wasn’t. Everything he wanted.

---

The next evening, the office buzzed with energy. Glasses clinked. Laughter floated in the air. Josie held my hand like we were still in love, like he hadn’t shattered me less than 24 hours ago.

“These are my friends,” he said, gesturing to two men—Ryder and Max.

They looked me over, eyes crawling across my body.

“She got bigger,” Ryder muttered under his breath. Not low enough.

“She must be eating Josie’s paycheck,” Max added, snorting.

They laughed. Josie didn’t say a word to defend me.

My throat tightened.

“Excuse me,” I whispered and slipped away into a nearby hallway. I found a small storage room and shut the door behind me. My chest heaved. The walls closed in.

And for the first time in a long time, I let myself cry.

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