The Mafia's Undercover Princess
"Agent Mia, If you could meet up with this task of bringing Kraven Astor down within the space of 6 months, then consider yourself a Special Senior Agent."
All Mia requested was her due promotion, but it came with a condition just to prove how less a female was seen in the security agency.
She is supposed to go undercover to bring down the ruthless don of New York's most feared mafia clan, who seemed untouchable and undefeated, which a wrong move could cost her everything.
You know, infiltrating his empire was the plan, but falling for him was never part of it.
Now, as their worlds collide, more secrets unravel, and a forbidden passion ignites between them, and she is stuck choosing between vengeance and the man who could be her downfall.
Indeed, she was sent to bring down the Mafia, but what if that's where she actually belongs?
Will love be her greatest weapon... or her ultimate betrayal? Find out now!!!
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Chapter 5
Aria's POV
Just as another car pulled up with a loud screeching sound against the coal-tiled pavement, I felt my entire body tense. My hand gripped the gun tighter, and my heart was almost racing as my mind was already bracing for another wave of chaos.
'Still on the first day, is this what I will have to face every single day?' I thought to myself.
For a moment, I thought the Giovanni men were back because, honestly, I wasn't ready for round two-not without having had a perfect 30 minutes of peace of mind since I got in contact with Kraven. But then, I have to do the needful.
He turned to me and noticed the way I was still holding onto the gun like it was my last lifeline.
"That's my men over there," he said calmly the moment he observed the plate number of the car that had just pulled over. "They're late, yeah, but it's better late than never. By now, you should know that as long as you're with me, nothing will happen to you."
I nodded and relaxed my grip just a little. "It's fine. Thank you," I replied quietly. But inside, I was still guarded. Trust didn't come easy, not anymore.
Then, out of nowhere, he threw a question that made my stomach twist.
"That reminds me, how were you able to pull a trigger like that? Aren't you supposed to be an artist? Do artists pull triggers too?"
I swallowed hard, keeping my face as neutral as I could. "Let's just say... it just happened. Self-defense can make people do things they didn't think they could. That's all there is to it."
He let out a soft chuckle; he would have been more amused than anything. "And you expect me to believe that real quick?"
"You really need to believe it," I said, meeting his gaze. "Because it's the truth."
He stared at me longer than felt comfortable, as if trying to read something written between my words.
"Anyway," he said finally, "no matter how badly you don't want to admit it, I see something in you. And the best word to describe it is 'potential. Something I could use. But listen carefully-on this side of the world, I don't trust anyone. So I'll let it slide, but my eyes are on you."
Before I could respond, the car door opened, and three men stepped out. Tall, dressed in black, all looking alert. One of them approached Kraven. They took a little moment in the car; I wouldn't know what they might have discussed in there, but somehow I cared less about that.
"Hello, boss, sorry we couldn't get here early," one of them goes on to explain. "We had to make sure the coast was clear before arriving. Sorry for any inconvenience this might have caused you."
Kraven gave a slight nod. "It's fine. You know, at least you are here now. Besides, you could see we already have them gunned down."
I noticed the shocked expression they had on when they heard that-"We had them gunned down." But then, Kraven wasn't even interested in explaining to them that I shot one dead person while he took care of the other three.
Kraven walked over to the bodies on the ground, and I watched as he crouched slightly and studied them carefully. There was a shift in his expression-more like something calculating. Then he turned back to me.
"Aria, right?" he said.
"Yeah. That's my name."
"You claimed you only pulled the trigger in self-defense," he said, gesturing to the dead men I did shoot. "But the guy you shot got it straight in the forehead. That's not something just anyone pulls off. You know that, right? Only someone who's handled a gun-really handled one-could manage that."
I held my breath, but I tried so much that my face gave nothing away.
"Let's just say I was lucky... who knows, desperate as well," I replied. "That kind of combination can make people hit bullseyes."
He didn't look convinced. He stepped toward me with his eyes narrowed.
"I'll only believe you," he said, "if you can prove it at my will."
I didn't respond because at this point there was nothing I could say that would change his mind. Again, trying to defend something too much tends to look like lies, and I have always known that silence was safer than overexplaining.
"Let's go," he said and walked toward the car.
I followed him, sliding into the passenger seat beside him. The other men got into their own car and trailed behind us.
The drive lasted about thirty minutes, quiet except for the hum of the road and the occasional street lamp shining by. I didn't speak. Neither did he. But I kept checking the mirrors, watching for tails. That's an old habit of mine that has lasted for a lifetime.
Eventually, he pulled into a small parking space outside a corner restaurant. It looked modest-nothing too flashy.
"You can stay in the car or join me," he said. "I want to grab some pizza, and this is my best spot in town for that."
Before I could respond, he was already out and shutting the door behind him.
I let out a breath. My heart was still beating faster than I liked in a manner I couldn't help it. Just as I was about to open the door and follow, my phone rang. I pulled it out quickly and answered when I saw the name.
"Hello, sir," I said.
"Progress report." Mr. Thompson's voice was as dry and direct as always.
"From how it's going, I'll probably get time alone with him tonight, and that's definitely a headway."
"Good job," he said. "Now, a new objective is-make sure you go home with the target. At all costs."
I froze. You could imagine such guts he got.
That request made my skin crawl. For a second, I considered pushing back because that made me look like a low-budget prostitute. But I knew better. I was on duty. And duty came first, no matter how it made me feel.
"Copy that," I said.
The call ended and I dropped the phone on my lap and stared out the window.
Eating with the devil? Then I better get myself a longer spoon.
Just then another thought came-what if he had the car bugged? My eyes moved across the dashboard. Kraven didn't strike me as the trusting type. He could've planted a recorder in here easily. I made a mental note-next time, no calls in the car. A message would've been smarter to the best of my knowledge.
As I couldn't follow him up immediately, there was no need to do that now, and I had to stay back.
Minutes later, Kraven returned. He knocked on the window, holding a brown paper bag and two sodas.
"You didn't bother coming in with me. You know, you never cease to give me more reasons to see you as a suspect and I think I know what you are up to this time." He snapped the moment he got to the car.
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9.5
The first clue my life was a lie was a moan from the guest room. My husband of seven years wasn't in our bed. He was with my intern.
I discovered my husband, Brendan, was having a four-year affair with Kiya-the talented girl I was mentoring and personally paying tuition for.
The next morning, she sat at our breakfast table in his shirt while he made us pancakes. He lied to my face, promising he'd never love another, just before I learned she was pregnant with his child-a child he'd always refused to have with me.
The two people I trusted most in the world had conspired to destroy me. The pain wasn't something I could live with; it was an annihilation of my entire world.
So I made a call to a neuroscientist about his experimental, irreversible procedure. I didn't want revenge. I wanted to erase every memory of my husband and become his first test subject.
9.7
I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing.
During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me.
I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst.
She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side.
"Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house."
I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip.
My heart went completely dead.
So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate.
I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table.
"I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today."
7.2
SYNOPSIS:
"I spent ten years scrubbing your floors, Greene. Tonight, you'll scrub mine."
Elara Vance has always been the pride the Republic until she ran away from home, fell in love with Greene Jones, a man who treated her like dirt and discarded her like she was never the girl the entire Republic feared because of her strong dominating pheromones.
Now she's back after twelve years to serve revenge to Greene Jones like a hot dish in a way that he will pay for every act meted out on her for twelve years. But things wasn't going to go as planned as she meets Silas, the handsome bulky head of her father's security but a recessive omega of her past that she has totally forgotten but now wears a new stance as her bodyguard, recognized by the entire republic as an Alpha, and her perfect chosen mate, Calvin; ruining the comeback and revenge she planned out for herself and now she has to think about saving and claiming her mate, Silas while navigating and protecting the seat meant for her.
The real question becomes; will Calvin ever allow her take all it took him twelve years to build?
THEME: The true definition of power. Is it found in the biological dominance of an Alpha, or in the resilience of an Omega who survived in the lion's den?
9.2
He married her to control her.
To break her.
To own her.
Seraphina let him believe it.
She plays the quiet wife-
soft voice, lowered eyes, perfect obedience.
But behind every smile...
is a plan he was never meant to survive.
Because this marriage was never about love.
Not even power.
It was revenge.
And when Lucien finally uncovers the truth-
when he realizes who she really is...
he won't be fighting to keep her.
He'll be begging to escape her.
8.3
Half a month into our cold war, I, Claire Parker, found an abortion procedure slip tucked inside Daniel Carter's suit pocket.
The patient's name belonged to the fragile little childhood sweetheart he had always protected so fiercely-Sophie Bennett.
I folded the paper calmly and slipped it back where I had found it.
Daniel noticed the movement immediately. His eyes flicked toward me through the rearview mirror, resignation coloring his voice.
"What are you overthinking now? Sophie was just keeping a friend company at the hospital. She accidentally left it there."
I turned toward the window and said nothing.
This was Sophie declaring war on me, yet the man who could crush competitors without mercy in the business world believed her completely.
The silence inside the car grew suffocating until Daniel finally stopped outside an upscale jewelry boutique.
He reached over and ruffled my hair with easy familiarity, his tone indulgent and affectionate.
"Come on. Pick out a ring. Your birthday's next month anyway, so we might as well register our marriage too."
I bit down hard on my lip as tears fell soundlessly onto the back of my hand.
What he still didn't know was that I wouldn't live long enough to see next month.
8.1
I died on an apocalyptic battlefield, only to wake up pinned down by a lead-lined blanket of my own fat.
A violent download of memories hit me. I had transmigrated into the body of an exiled, sadistic noblewoman who was three million coins in debt.
The original owner was an absolute monster. She had purchased beastman guards just to torture them for fun. In the corner of the filthy room, a golden retriever boy cowered, his back shredded by her barbed whip. In the basement, a snake guard was frozen and scarred from constant electro-shocks. When the white tiger guard returned from hard labor, he looked at me with pure, murderous hatred, ready to tear me apart to protect the others. Even the local elites kicked down my door to mock my pathetic life and try to steal my men.
I was a decorated commander who bled for humanity. Why was I trapped in this ruined vessel, bearing the sins of a degenerate abuser?
It was all a setup by her sweet-faced cousin, Debera, who stole her royal life and sent her to this outer-rim hellhole to rot.
I gritted my teeth and plunged a military-grade gene repair serum into my arm, letting the agony burn away the black filth and weakness.
"The crazy woman you knew before is dead."
I tossed a medical kit to the trembling guards, loaded my old electromagnetic pistol, and headed for the deadly Demon Hunting Zone to start my revenge.