The Price Of A Mafia Queen
My marriage to Marco Ricci was a contract signed in blood, a promise to unite the two most powerful families on the East Coast. He was my future, the king chosen to rule beside me. Everyone said our union was destiny.
But he came home smelling of cheap perfume and another woman's lies. It was the scent of Angelia, the fragile orphan his family had taken in, the girl he swore he protected like a sister.
I followed him to a private club. From the shadows, I watched him pull her into his arms and give her a hungry, desperate kiss—a kiss he had never given me. In that instant, my entire future shattered.
I finally understood the whispers from his men that I was just a political prize, while Angelia was their true queen. He wanted my empire, but his heart belonged to her.
I would not be a consolation prize. I would not be second to anyone.
I walked straight into my father's study, my voice as cold as ice. "I'm calling off the wedding."
When he protested, I delivered the final blow. "I will uphold our family's need for an alliance. I will marry Don Dante Valentino."
My father's whiskey glass shattered on the floor. Dante Valentino was our greatest rival.
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Chapter 5
Isabella POV:
The bids escalated, a back-and-forth volley of pride and pain. The air in the ballroom crackled with tension. Finally, Marco lowered his paddle, a smug, satisfied smirk playing on his lips. He had pushed me to my limit, and he knew it.
"Sold!" the auctioneer cried. "To Miss Moretti for five million dollars!"
A bitter, fleeting sense of triumph washed over me. I had won. But it felt like a loss.
I walked to the payment table, my head held high, and presented my private account card, the one linked directly to the Moretti family trust.
The clerk swiped it. Once. Twice.
"I'm sorry, Miss Moretti," she said, her voice a hushed, embarrassed whisper. "The card has been declined. The account has been frozen."
Ice flooded my veins. Marco. He had anticipated this. He had cut off my access to my own family's fortune.
Luca stepped forward, his face grim. "Allow me," he said, sliding his own card across the table.
The clerk swiped it. "Declined," she murmured, looking even more mortified. "All accounts associated with the Ricci and Moretti families appear to be locked for this transaction."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Laughter, thinly veiled and cruel. I was standing there, the winner of a five-million-dollar diamond, unable to pay. A princess without a penny to her name.
Then, Marco's voice, smooth and condescending, cut through the noise.
"Perhaps I can be of assistance."
He strode to the table, tapped his personal signet ring against the payment console, and the transaction was instantly approved. He had locked me out, only to display his absolute control.
The velvet box containing the Star of Sicily was handed to him. For a heart-stopping moment, I thought he might give it to me, a twisted peace offering.
He walked past me, straight to Angelia. He knelt before her, opened the box, and presented the diamond like a holy relic.
"For you, Angie," he said, his voice filled with a devotion that shattered the last fragments of my heart. "Always."
The ballroom erupted in applause. The public humiliation was complete. I was a spectacle, a tragic sideshow in their perfect love story.
Luca's voice was a low growl in my ear. "He planned this, Bella. He wanted to break you in front of everyone."
Marco's voice, cold and sharp, cut in. "Stay out of this, Luca. What happens with Isabella is my business." He turned to me, his eyes devoid of any warmth. "This is what happens when you defy me."
A laugh escaped my lips. It was a raw, mirthless sound that turned heads. A sound of absolute, soul-crushing despair.
I didn't say a word. I just turned and ran. I fled the ballroom, the laughter and whispers chasing me like a pack of wolves.
I locked myself in my room, the darkness a welcome shroud. Shaking, I activated the listening device I'd hidden in Marco's study months ago. I needed to hear, to understand the depths of his cruelty.
I heard the voices of his soldiers, Enzo and Jax.
"She looked completely broken," Enzo said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. "Did you see her face?"
"Serves her right," Jax replied. "Acting like she's too good for him."
Then Marco's voice, cold and possessive, filled the speaker. "She is mine. She's just forgotten her place. I'll handle her."
I saw him on the security feed. He was picking up a small, velvet box from his desk—a cheap imitation of the diamond necklace he had just given Angelia. A pathetic consolation prize.
The words echoed in my mind. *She is mine.*
He didn't love me. He didn't even respect me. He saw me as a possession, an object to be controlled and punished.
I switched off the monitor. I couldn't watch anymore. I couldn't listen to the casual cruelty of the men I had once considered family.
I didn't see the flicker of unease on Luca's face as Marco claimed me. I didn't hear the way his heart broke for me in the echoing silence of the ballroom.
All I knew was the crushing weight of my own despair, and the sound of Marco's footsteps approaching my door. He was coming to "handle" me.
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9.1
When is the worst time to tell someone he's going to be a father?
Probably the day of the wedding...
When he is getting married to someone else.
Well, that is exactly what I did.
But my hands were tied.
Literally.
Matvey Groza is a dangerous man.
And nine months ago, he strolled into my shop looking for a custom suit.
But when I accidentally walked in on him in the changing room,
*I* was the one that ended up needing a new set of clothes.
It was a one-time mistake.
After that... good riddance.
But the pregnancy test I took a month later had other plans.
I kept it a secret from everyone.
Or so I thought.
But when Matvey's enemies learned that I was pregnant with his child,
they kidnapped me and held me hostage.
Until I broke free and ran as fast as I could.
And I had no one else to turn to but the devil himself.
What better time for me to enter the church...
... than as the pastor says, "Speak now or forever hold your peace"?
9.4
Cruel Capone
9.4
Whitney Rivers, a plastic surgeon who dreams of owning her own practice, crosses paths with Casio Capone. Her life takes a turn in a way she never would have expected. What started as a chance encounter in the busy streets of New York City turns into a whirlwind connection she can't resist.
Until one day, when everything shattered.
An attempt to get to Casio, Whitney is kidnapped by his enemies as leverage. Entering the dark and violent underworld of the Mafia. Whitney comes face to face with coldblooded killers and the brutal reality of Casio's life.
Caught between danger and desire, will Casio and Whitney's connection become stronger, or will it crash and burn? Will it destroy them or make them unstoppable?
7.3
Jolene flies to Italy broke and desperate for a PA job. She walks into the wrong room and finds a man naked in the shower. She can't stop staring. He notices.
The interview is brutal. Two men, Marco and Enzo, tear her apart, humiliate her, and dismiss her. She thinks she failed.
Then Enzo gets in the car. It was all a test. They wanted to see if she'd break. She didn't. The job is hers.
But they don't want a normal assistant. They want control. They touch her when they want, stand too close, give orders that cross every line.
On her first night, Marco tells her to take off her blouse.
Jolene has to choose: obey or walk away with nothing.
The problem? Part of her doesn't want to leave.
9.0
I shattered my knee jumping in front of a silver bullet meant for him.
The poison seeped into my marrow, putting my wolf into a coma and leaving me crippled.
I thought my sacrifice would secure his love forever.
Instead, five years later, Brennan stood in a warehouse while a Rogue held a silver-laced dagger to my throat.
Beside me sat Debbi, his mistress—a spy who had staged the whole kidnapping.
"You can only save one," the kidnapper sneered.
Brennan didn't even hesitate.
He looked me in the eye, his gaze cold and devoid of the bond we once shared.
"I choose Debbi," he said.
He walked out with her in his arms, leaving his Fated Mate to bleed out on the concrete floor.
As the blade dug into my skin, I felt the mate bond snap.
He thought I died in the explosion that followed.
He spent weeks howling in grief when he finally realized Debbi was a traitor and he had killed the only woman who truly loved him.
But he was wrong.
I didn't die.
A federal agent pulled me from the fire, and the trauma didn't kill my wolf—it woke her up.
A year later, Brennan walked into a small bistro in Italy, looking for redemption.
He fell to his knees when he saw me standing there, healed and glowing with the aura of a White Wolf.
"Alyssa," he wept, reaching for me. "I'm so sorry. I'll do anything."
I looked him dead in the eye, my gaze icy blue.
"Get out," I said. "We don't serve traitors here."
7.4
MAFIA DESIRE
7.4
In the city where power was inherited through bloodshed and silence, love was the most dangerous liability of all.
She emerged from the shadows like a secret the underworld had failed to bury-elegant, unreadable, and far more lethal than she appeared. Every step she took echoed with intention. Every smile concealed a calculation. Men underestimated her. They always did. And they always paid for it.
He was young, brilliant, and already feared. A rising king in a world that devoured the weak, carrying ambition like a loaded weapon. He didn't trust easily, didn't hesitate, and didn't believe in fate-until her presence began to unravel everything he thought he controlled.
Their connection wasn't born of innocence or chance. It was forged in danger, sealed by secrets, and fueled by a hunger neither of them dared to name. In a world ruled by betrayal, they found something far more terrifying than enemies-each other.
Because when desire collides with power, and love becomes a threat, survival is no longer guaranteed.
And in the mafia, nothing is more deadly than wanting what you're not supposed to have.
9.3
WARNING!! THIS STORY CONTAINS A LOT OF MATURE THEMES, ELEMENTS OF HARDCORE BDSM, PRAISE KINKS, SLUT-SHAMING KINKS, AND DEGRADATION KINKS. READ WITH CAUTION.
(BOOK ONE OF THE DELUCA KINGS SERIES)
Serena would do anything to uncover the death of her parents, including sleeping with the most dangerous man in New York, Nero DeLuca. And he knows this, so he strings her along so he can see how far she's willing to go.
***
"Get on your knees," Nero said.
"Excuse me-"
"You're my submissive, and you exist for the sole purpose of my pleasure. I don't tolerate defiance. When I say get on your knees, you get on your knees."
"Yes," I replied as I got on my knees, hating how much his commanding tone turned me on.
He put his finger under my chin and lifted it so I could look at him.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good girl. Now get on the bed and show me that beautiful cunt. I want to see what it looks like before I destroy it with my cock. Tonight, the whole of New York will know you belong to me. I'll not take anything less than you screaming my name, and by the time I'm done with you, you'll feel me between your legs for a week."