The Mafia King's Unwanted Pregnant Wife
While I was pregnant, my husband held a party downstairs for another woman's son.
Through a hidden mental link, I overheard my husband, Don Dante Rossi, tell his consigliere he was going to publicly reject me tomorrow. He planned to make his mistress, Serena, his new mate.
An act forbidden by ancient law while I carried his heir.
Later, Serena cornered me, her smile venomous. When Dante appeared, she shrieked, clawing her own arm and blaming me for the attack.
Dante didn’t even look at me. He snarled a command that froze my body and stole my voice, ordering me from his sight as he cradled her.
He moved her and her son into our master suite. I was demoted to the guest room at the end of the hall.
Passing her open door, I saw him rocking her baby, humming the lullaby my own mother used to sing to me.
I heard him promise her, “Soon, my love. I’ll sever the bond and give you the life you deserve.”
The love I felt for him, the power I’d hidden for four years to protect his fragile ego, all turned to ice.
He thought I was a weak, powerless wife he could discard. He was about to find out that the woman he betrayed was Alessia De Luca, princess of the most powerful family on the continent.
And I was finally going home.
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Chapter 2
Alessia POV:
My heart felt like a lead weight in my chest as I turned from the gallery. The air, thick with cigar smoke and the cloying scent of Serena’s cheap perfume, was suffocating. I needed to get out. I needed to breathe air that wasn't tainted with betrayal.
I took the back staircase, my hand trailing along the cold stone wall, avoiding the celebration, avoiding the pitying or scornful looks.
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, a figure stepped out from the hallway, blocking my path.
Serena.
She held a glass of champagne, a smug, victorious smile on her perfectly painted lips. “Alessia. I didn’t expect to see you down here. Shouldn’t you be resting?” The fake concern in her voice was like nails on a chalkboard.
“I was just leaving,” I said, my voice flat. I tried to step around her.
She moved with me, blocking me again. “Leaving so soon? But the party is for us. For my son. Your future stepson.”
“He will never be my stepson,” I said, the words cold and sharp.
Her mask of friendliness dropped, replaced by a venomous sneer. “Oh, but he will be. Dante adores him. He adores me. He’s tired of a cold wife who can’t even give him the time of day.” She took a deliberate step closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “He told me everything. He’s going to reject you. Tomorrow. In front of everyone.”
Her words confirmed the thought I’d intercepted, but hearing them from her lips was a fresh wave of pain. My body swayed, and I reached out a hand to steady myself against the wall.
“I will be the Don’s wife,” she hissed, her eyes glittering with triumph. “And you… you will be nothing.”
The bond I shared with Dante, the sacred link that connected our souls, felt like it was being stretched to its breaking point. A sharp, searing pain shot through me, so intense it made my vision swim.
Just then, down the long corridor, a figure emerged from the main hall.
Dante.
Serena’s eyes flickered towards him, and in an instant, her entire demeanor changed. Her triumphant sneer vanished, replaced by a look of wide-eyed terror.
Before I could even process what was happening, she let out a piercing shriek. Her hand, the one not holding the champagne, flew to her own arm, her sharp nails digging into her flesh, drawing blood.
“No, Alessia, please!” she screamed, her voice filled with manufactured panic. “Don’t hurt me! I’m sorry!”
Dante was there in a flash, the blur of his movement a testament to the power he commanded. He didn’t even look at me. His entire focus was on Serena, his hands gently taking her arm, his eyes dark with fury as he saw the bloody scratches.
“What did you do?” he snarled, his gaze finally snapping to me. It was filled with so much hatred it felt like a physical blow.
“Dante, I didn’t…”
“Be silent,” he commanded.
He used the Don’s Command. It wasn’t a shout; it was a low, guttural order infused with his power, a force that demanded obedience. It slammed into me, an invisible fist that stole my breath and clamped down on my will. My body froze, my mouth refusing to form the words of my defense. My own soul, bound to his, was being used as a weapon against me.
“Get out of my sight,” he commanded, his voice shaking with rage as he cradled Serena against his chest.
Every instinct screamed at me to stay, to fight, to make him see the truth. But the Command was absolute. It was a physical force, pushing me, compelling me. My feet began to move against my will, each step an agonizing betrayal of my own body.
My own inner wolf, the core of my being, whimpered in confusion and pain. He was our mate. He was supposed to be our protector. Why was he hurting us?
“Dante, please,” I managed to whisper, the words tearing from my throat despite the force holding me silent. “I am your mate. I carry your son.”
He didn’t even look at me. His eyes were fixed on Serena, his expression softening as he comforted her. “Leave,” he said, his voice cold and final. “Now.”
My heart didn’t just break. It shattered. The pieces turned to dust inside my chest.
As I turned, forced away by his power, I whispered one last thing, so quietly I knew he wouldn’t hear it over Serena’s fake sobs.
“Goodbye, Dante.”
Each step away from him was agony, his power a crushing weight on my soul. But with each step, the dust of my shattered heart began to solidify, not into love, but into something hard and cold and unbreakable.
Ice.
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8.0
My entire family was slaughtered three years ago by Alistair Kirkland, the usurper who stole the underworld throne.
I was the only survivor. Smuggled out of New York as a child, I was trained in the shadows to become a flawless weapon. Now, at sixteen, I returned to the city that was supposed to be my graveyard.
But the New York I returned to was a suffocating cage. Kirkland didn't just wipe out the Valenzuela bloodline; he branded my few surviving loyalists as traitors. He paraded my men down the streets in heavy iron chains, letting the very people we once protected hurl rocks at them. He bought the doctors, ensuring my wounded soldiers would bleed out in the dark. Even worse, the mother of my only ally—Julian Morgan—secretly sold us out to a Chicago warlord just to keep her archaic grip on power.
I stood in the shadows, watching an eleven-year-old boy get his head smashed with a jagged stone just for defending his father's honor. How could the city my grandfather built cheer for our extermination? Why did the old guard prefer to cower and die in the dark rather than fight the monster who stole our home?
"Ghosts don't knock on my door, Athena. What do you want?" Julian asked me.
I tossed a blood-stained ledger of Kirkland's deepest secrets onto his desk.
"I'm here to help you take back what's yours, and burn Alistair Kirkland's empire to the ground."
8.1
My fiancé, the ruthless Mafia Underboss, tore my dead mother's necklace from my throat and fastened it around another woman's neck.
"Diana needs it," Arthur said, his eyes cold. "My blood remembers loving her. It calms her anxiety."
He was referring to the bone marrow transplant that saved his life. Diana was connected to the donor, and Arthur believed his new blood made him belong to her.
I became a ghost in my own home, forced to watch him crown a usurper.
When Diana faked a fall at a gala, accusing me of pushing her, Arthur didn't hesitate. He decided to "discipline" me publicly to teach me respect.
He raised the whip.
"Arthur, please, I'm pregnant!" I screamed, shielding my stomach.
"Don't lie to me," he spat, and the lash came down.
I lost our baby on that cold marble floor in a pool of blood. He didn't believe me. He stepped over my body to take Diana to dinner.
He didn't stop there. He let my grandmother die in the ER to tend to Diana's bruised nose. He even dug up my grandmother's grave because Diana wanted the view for a garden.
I finally fled, vanishing into the night.
It wasn't until months later, when he found the autopsy report of our unborn child and the toxicology results proving Diana had been drugging him, that the fog lifted.
He tracked me down to a small town, where I was finally healing with a good man.
The feared Underboss fell to his knees in the pouring rain, holding the whip he had used on me, shaking violently.
"Beat me, Ella," he begged, tears mixing with the mud. "Hurt me. Make us even."
I looked at the monster I used to love and dropped his ring into the dirt.
"You can't bring back the dead, Arthur," I whispered. "And you are dead to me."
7.1
"Your bravery is admirable, General. Pity it will be your last day," She purred, her voice laced with venom as it echoed through the phone.
Silence met her words, and with a satisfied smirk, she placed the phone back on the table.
Reaching for her wine glass, she took a sip savoring the taste of revenge.
Raven's eyes shifted to the man standing before her. His rigid posture betrayed his fear as she issued her next command.
"Kill him slow and messy. Make a little video of it"
A devilish smile crept into her face as she imagined the scene.
*****
Lelia Morin, an accomplished businesswoman known for her philanthropic endeavours, had a reputation of being kind, generous and virtuous.
Crowned as the Nation's woman", she was an epitome of beauty and grace.
One fateful night, her judgment clouded with alcohol leading her into a night of passion with a mysterious man.
Reid Donovan awoke to the unexpected sight of a stunning woman beside him, and due to the circumstances and the strange attraction he had with her.
He decided to take responsibility for his actions by marrying her.
Little did they know that both of them were harbouring secrets.
A secret like Reid Donovan being an undercover General sent to investigate the Moran family. Which is unknown to the world it's her family.
These hidden truths were more dangerous than they could ever imagine.
As their lives begin to intertwine, these secrets threaten to ruin their lives, risking everything they hold dear.
Will they be able to conquer and confront those secrets or will the secrets end up pushing them deep into its abyss.
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."
9.6
She came to St. Jude's to be invisible.
He made that impossible.
Elara Vance doesn't speak. Not because she can't, because the world stopped being safe enough to speak to. She's brilliant, she's careful, and she has survived worse than an elite private school full of students who treat cruelty like a sport.
She just needs two semesters. That's all.
Julian Reed was supposed to be background noise. The soccer star. The golden boy. The one everyone watches and no one really knows. She was not supposed to catch his attention. He was not supposed to keep hers.
But when Julian steps in to help her and accidentally paints a target on her back, Elara discovers that some enemies don't just want to win. They want to destroy. And some protectors don't know when to stop.
She doesn't need saving.
She needs to get through senior year without falling apart.
She's failing at both.
Enemies in the hallway. Secrets in the group chat. A stepmother at home who calls it honesty when she cuts. And a boy in the front row who keeps sliding notes backward and saying things like I pay what I owe like he actually means it.
Elara has one rule: don't let anyone in.
Julian Reed is very bad for her rules.
8.1
Warning 🔞
"So wet for the enemy", he taunted, scissoring inside me and stretching my walls.
I moaned, throwing my head back and riding his hand. When he withdrew his fingers, I moaned at the loss. Adrian took his fingers to his mouth and wiped off my juices.
Fuck!
_______
EROTICA COLLECTION!!!
Sinful Desires (Volume 1)
Ten dangerously addictive steamy romances that will leave you breathless.
From enemies to lovers, bodyguard protectors, CEO obsessions, mafia claims, and passionate vacation affair, Sinful Desires Volume 1 brings together ten standalone romances filled with steam and unforgettable Passion.
You'll meet...
A bodyguard who can't stay professional.
A CEO who risks his empire for an intern.
A mafia boss who softens only for one woman
A firefighter who turns healing into desire.
And more.
In the next collection, temptation becomes even more forbidden, desires become more dangerous, and love crosses lines it was never supposed to touch.
If you thought Volume 1 was sinful, you're not ready for what comes next so get ready because the sins only grow darker from here...
Stay tuned for Sinful Desires (Volume 2)