THE DON'S SECRET OBSESSION ( His Bride, Her Prison)
I never wanted any part in this. But I have no choice. With a deep sigh, I force down an invisible lump in my throat, looking up at the priest.
I press my fingers tighter into the flower I am holding, hoping it hides how much I am shaking. Dreading the words the priest is about to utter.
"Do you, Ariella Cecilia Boone, take Dermos Salvatore to be your lawfully wedded husband?" The priest asks.
I blink.
I badly want to say it, badly want to scream that I am not Ariella Cecilia Boone.
My lips tremble as I force the truth down my throat, "Yes, I do." I murmur, my voice a little over a whisper.
~~~~
Ariel Hannah Boone didn't know what life had in store for her when she woke up on her twin sister's wedding day, only to find out her sister had run away.
She went into panic when her mother insisted she take her place because Dermos Salvatore was no man to joke with.
Dermos was the most feared Don in the whole of Sicily, one who killed without care. A blood thirsty murderer with no remorse.
In an attempt to save her family from his wrath, she takes her sister's place at the wedding.
Pain, suffering, and betrayal are all she knows the moment she became his. Secrets begin to unveil as she realises her family isn't what it seems.
And when whispers of her sister's disappearance reach her, she finds out the truth.
He never wanted Ariella; it had always been her.
Ariel has to choose between a love built on lies or betraying her sister and family.
She was his bride, and he was her prison, yet he would never let her go.
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Chapter 1
CHAPTER 1
I can't breathe. I'm nervous as hell.
And while I hope it is not as visible as it feels, I like to believe that everyone would simply think I am acting all weird because I'm a first-time bride.
But the truth is, I'm nervous because I'm a fraud.
I never wanted any part in this. But I have no choice. With a deep sigh, I force down an invisible lump in my throat, looking up at the priest.
I press my fingers tighter into the flower I am holding, hoping it hides how much I am shaking. Dreading the words the priest is about to utter.
"Do you, Ariella Cecilia Boone, take Dermos Salvatore to be your lawfully wedded husband?" The priest asks.
I blink.
I badly want to say it, badly want to scream that I am not Ariella Cecilia Boone.
My sister ran away this morning, and I am being forced to take her place. I badly want to fling this flower at his face and flee.
Yet mom's voice replays in my head like a broken record.
"You have to do it, Cara Mia, your sister is nowhere to be found. If we don't fulfill the end of our bargain, you know what Dermos will do to us."
Yes, I did know what he would do. So, with that, I go along as planned. Pretend to be Ariella until she is found.
My lips tremble as I force the truth down my throat, "Yes, I do." I murmur, my voice a little over a whisper.
I can't expose family, can't put them in such danger.
The priest nods before turning to the almighty Dermos, asking the same thing.
"Of course, I do." His deep velvety voice resonates through the church. His calm green eyes lock onto mine, steady and unreadable.
They're not searching mine. They don't look like they suspect a thing. The tight feeling in my chest loosens a tad.
The relief in my face might have shown a little as Dermos's lips curled into a slight smirk. I don't know what to make of it, and just like that, my anxiety spikes again.
The rituals continue, but I am barely present. My eyes drink up the man. I know nothing except that he is the Don of the Italian Mafia.
My eyes rake down his body, adorned in a white suit; he has the most innocent-looking face. The way his eyes twinkle didn't fit the description of the ruthless Don I heard so much about.
My thoughts are cut off as the priest's words filter into my ears, "You may kiss the bride."
What?
My eyes widen as I watch him lean close, my fingers tighten harder on my flowers as I watch him lean closer, his pink lips now inches away from mine.
"Boss, watch out!" A loud voice booms as shots ring out into the air.
Dermos moves with speed I didn't know a human could possess. One moment he was leaning over, the next he reached into his suit, pulling out a gun and firing back.
My entire body freezes as I watch people scramble about, screams filling the air, yet I don't make a single move.
Is this how it all ends?
"ARIELLA, GET DOWN!!" Dermos' voice breaks through my haze. "Get over here!"
I come back to my senses instantly. But rather than run, my legs give way as my knees scrape the tile.
"What are you doing!" He doesn't give me the chance to respond.
The next moment, tight arms wrap around my body, dragging my limp body up.
I snap back into control, pushing the panic deep down my throat, letting him tug me away.
My heart is beating so fast.
I don't want to die. This isn't how I want my life to end. Marrying a Don against my wish and having my guts spill out on the pavement where I just exchanged vows.
Men dressed in black are scattered around the old cathedral building as they fire guns at each other. I have never seen a sight like this before.
Mom sheltered us our whole life, kept us hidden from the dark world. I never knew anything about this world until I heard of Ariella's arranged marriage.
"Carlos, get Ariella to safety." Dermos barks at a man hurrying our way. "Don't worry about me."
I don't get a good look at the man as things turn heated.
Before Carlos can follow orders, Dermos' arms wrap around my midriff, and he hurls me in another direction.
A blood-curdling scream tears out of my lips as my body is flung down the altar. Pain sears through my side as tears threaten to roll down my face.
I dig my palm into the tiles as I drag my body up, grabbing one of the chairs as I rise to my feet. I snap my head to look at Dermos when strong arms tug me back as the sound of rings through the air.
Thick red liquid spurts out of the guy in front of me, splashing onto my face.
Turns out that one of Dermos' men shot a man who was about to blow my brains out.
"Come on, I will get you to safety." The man says, reaching out for my arms.
I move away from him swiftly, failing to realise that he is the man Dermos was speaking to earlier.
Breathing hard, I glare at him. "Who are you?" I bark just before it dawns on me.
"Carlos, Dermos's boss," he says sharply, grabbing my hand to pull me forward.
I shut my eyes as I bite my lips, about to protest, but the sound of bullets ringing in the air has me shrinking before him.
"Take me away from here, please." I cry out, flinging my arms out to grip his arm.
Once we are successfully out of the church, I can finally breathe.
"Let's go." He calls out, tugging me like a
puppy.
I dig my heels into the asphalt, refusing to move as I struggle to be free from his hold.
I don't want to leave, not yet. Stepping into that car is equivalent to sealing my fate forever.
"Where is my mom? Where is she? I'm not leaving without her." I argue, snapping my head again to look behind, pretending to seem worried. I am counting on the fact that he's not aware that my mom never showed up for the wedding.
"All attendees are fine," he grits out, annoyance written all over his exterior. "They were not coming for anyone that wasn't the bride or us. Now get in."
I rake my eyes over him. He is a lanky guy with a little muscle. His hair is in a buzz cut, with his piercing blue eyes complementing his pale skin. Blood runs down his jaw over his black suit.
"What of Dermos?" I ask, trying hard to still look worried, knowing fully well that I am stalling.
This might just be the last minute I ever get to be Ariel again. And I plan to savour every second of it.
"What the hell are you both still doing here? I told you to get her to safety. This isn't safe." Dermos's deep voice cuts through my haze.
I snap my head only to see him drenched in blood, his white suit now almost red as his eyes blaze with a fury I have never seen.
He tucks his dripping gun into his suit like it's the most normal thing ever. He looks extremely huge and dangerous as he stalks over.
I barely hear anything until he says something that sends a thrill down my spine.
"You are safe, Ariella." The way he calls my name like he knows something I don't.
Not with him. There was nothing like safety with a dangerous man of this calibre.
What the hell have I gotten into? I think, as I take my first step into my doom.
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9.4
Michael Carter is an undercover FBI agent on a mission to take down ruthless mafia king Fernando Ramírez-the man he believes killed his sister. But getting close to Fernando means playing a dangerous game, one where seduction and power blur the lines between enemy and lover.
When Michael uncovers a shocking truth, his thirst for revenge turns into a fight for something far more dangerous-his own heart. Now, torn between duty and desire, he must decide: destroy the man he swore to take down or surrender to the one thing he never saw coming.
Love has never been more lethal.
7.6
I was arranging white lilies on the cold marble of my husband's grave when I saw a ghost.
Walking through the cemetery gates was a man who looked exactly like my dead husband, Dante.
Logic said it was his twin brother, Matteo. But a wife knows the slope of a man's shoulders. She knows the arrogant tilt of his chin.
My husband hadn't been blown up in a car bomb three years ago.
He had faked his death to steal his brother's rank, his fortune, and his mistress.
For three years, I had forced our son, Leo, to kiss a photograph goodnight. We lived in a damp, peeling apartment, surviving on the "charity" of the Family.
Meanwhile, Dante was living in a mansion, driving cars that cost more than my life, playing house with another woman.
When he came to our cramped apartment to drop off the monthly "pension" money, pretending to be Uncle Matteo, he didn't look at me with love. He looked at his watch.
When Leo ran to hug him, shouting "Papa," Dante peeled the boy's small arms off his expensive suit like he was removing a piece of lint.
"Don't call me that," he snapped. "I am your Uncle."
My grief turned into ice. He chose another woman's comfort over his own son's hunger.
I grabbed Leo's hand and walked out the door.
"You walk away, and you get nothing!" Dante shouted after me. "You'll be on the street!"
I didn't stop. I walked straight to the black SUV idling at the curb.
The window rolled down, revealing Salvatore Vitiello. The Don. The most lethal man in the city.
"Get in, Elena," he commanded.
I opened the door and slid onto the leather seat next to the devil himself.
As we drove away, leaving my husband in the dust, I realized I had just traded a liar for a killer.
And I didn't regret it for a second.
8.1
Trigger Warning: This book is extremely dark, containing themes of obsession, strong sexual content, abuse, and psychological manipulation. Read at your own risk.
"I'll delete the pictures depending on how obedient you are. You have to do everything I say. If I want you to become a dog, you get on your knees and bark. Do we have a deal?"
Pierce leans down to Malakai's height, his lips brushing the shell of his ear, close enough to taste his fear.
"You don't want her to know what a dirty little creep you are, do you?"
Malakai Kreston is the preacher's perfect son. Quiet. Obedient. The kind of boy no one looks at twice.
But Malakai has a filthy secret. And he'll do anything-anything-to keep it buried.
Enter Pierce Masterson.
Wealthy. Attractive. Pierce doesn't just want Malakai's secret. He wants Malakai. All of him. His fear. His obedience. His body. His mind.
Pierce wants to own it, and lock it away where no one else can ever touch it.
Kai has always been the hunter-watching from the shadows, obsessing in silence, taking what doesn't belong to him.
Now someone is hunting him.
And Pierce doesn't play fair. He plays dirty.
How far can you run when the devil already knows every dark corner of your soul?
In a game of predator and prey, the lines blur. The roles reverse. And the most dangerous thing isn't the boy who holds the blackmail-
It's the moment Malakai stops wanting to be free.
7.6
My ex-husband, Reese Beaumont, sent me divorce papers on our anniversary, five years after I walked down the aisle to join him. I signed them with a red lipstick and sent them back to him, with a short note which read: "I am not going to give you the liberty of thinking you still own me."
Now, one year later, he is standing in my office, the smug look in his eyes gone, and for some reason, still wearing our wedding ring.
"You're still mine, Roxanne. You didn't sign the divorce papers, and you seem to forget that you're nothing without me."
A soft chuckle escape my lips, right as my fake fiancé walks in, holding our one-year-old son. The son Reese never knew I was pregnant with.
"Funny," I mutter. "Because I don't remember you being in control of the game."
Now, he's everywhere, showing up at my gallery and outbidding my fake fiancé at my auctions. Telling the media we are on the road to reconciliation.
But I am not the same woman who cried for him one year ago.
I am the woman he never expected to walk out the door. And the one he'll always regret letting go.
9.2
I was sold to Damien Russo, the ruthless Don of Chicago, as collateral in a shipping route transaction. I was expected to be a silent, obedient bride in a cold, loveless marriage.
But the moment I stepped into the Russo estate, I realized my new family wanted to completely destroy me.
My mother-in-law, Eleonora, and her arrogant relatives immediately targeted me. They set traps in the solarium, mocked my late mother's heritage, and tried to force me into humiliating submission using their strict mafia traditions. They wanted to break my spirit so Damien would replace me with the bride they actually wanted—a purebred mafia princess. They expected me to cower in fear, isolated and helpless, while the whole family watched my public humiliation and waited for my downfall.
Did they really think I was just a fragile girl who would cry and run away? They completely underestimated the survival instincts of a woman who grew up in this bloody world. I learned long ago that tears are worthless.
"My rules are simple. Vendetta is a two-way street."
Instead of breaking, I smiled. I weaponized their own legendary ancestors and the sacred promise of an unborn heir to trap the Matriarch in her own rules, forcing her into a suffocating silence. If they wanted a war for the throne, I would gladly show them exactly why I am the undisputed Mafia Queen.
9.2
I discovered the dark secret my stepmother Beatrice had been hiding for years.
When I threatened to expose the truth to the mafia, my half-brother Angelo and step-sister Carmella locked me in an abandoned Brooklyn warehouse.
Carmella stood there in my mother's expensive silk dress, her voice sweet and venomous as she confessed how she had meticulously stolen my life and my father's love.
Angelo looked at me with cold indifference, pouring gasoline over my feet before striking a match.
"You're insane for threatening to break the code of silence," they laughed, leaving me to burn alive to protect their stolen thrones.
My own father turned a blind eye, letting his trueborn daughter turn to ash just to maintain the illusion of his perfect family.
The smell of charred flesh filled my throat. Until I died, I didn't understand. I had bled for our survival, even taking a bullet for the terrifying Moretti Matriarch.
Why did my father let the bastard children of a Chicago bootlegger steal my inheritance and murder me?
Opening my eyes again, the phantom heat of the inferno faded into a cool New York afternoon.
I was seventeen again, sitting in the backseat of a Cadillac, just returning from my three-year exile in Switzerland.
This time, I wouldn't just scream. I would marry the terrifying Prince of New York and watch my stepmother's entire bloodline burn.