Novels by Weyimi Dede

# *The Mafia and His Stepsister* ### Bonus Epilogue: A Different Kind of ForeverThe morning sun spilled across the marble floors of the villa, turning everything gold.Aria stretched beneath the silk sheets, the warm sea breeze teasing her hair.She blinked sleepily and turned her head — and there he was.Luciano.Already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless and rumpled, reading the morning paper like he didn’t rule an empire of blood and power.She smiled lazily."You’re staring," she teased, voice rough with sleep.Luciano folded the paper carefully and turned to her, the corners of his mouth lifting in the rare smile he reserved only for her."Can you blame me?" he murmured.Aria sat up, letting the sheets slide down her bare skin.Luciano’s gaze darkened instantly."I married a goddess," he said, voice low and reverent. "And she doesn’t even know it."Aria laughed and reached for him, looping her arms around his neck."I married a monster," she whispered, pressing h

Aria didn't panic.Not yet.She moved through the silent mansion like a ghost, checking every door, every window.All locked. All bolted.She was trapped inside her own gilded cage.Luciano had warned her — stay inside. He must have known this was coming.But if he had known... why wasn’t he here?The question gnawed at her, feeding the fear clawing up her spine.She sprinted to the security room at the back of the house — a fortress inside the fortress — and started scanning the surveillance feeds.The screens flickered to life.Empty hallways. Empty gates. Empty driveways.Then, on one screen — movement.A black SUV idling just outside the east wing. Doors swinging open. Men spilling out, armed and moving fast.Aria’s blood turned to ice.She grabbed the nearest gun from the weapons rack — a heavy, unfamiliar Glock — and checked the safety with trembling fingers.Luciano had taught her. One lesson. One chance.She chambered a round and pressed herself against the wall.The

Luciano didn’t sleep that night.He sat in his private study, a glass of untouched whiskey on the desk, the shadows of the room swallowing him whole.Aria's taste still clung to his lips. The feel of her body — soft, trembling, willing — was burned into his skin.He'd crossed a line.A line he couldn't uncross.She was his wife by contract. His responsibility. His shield against a world that wanted them both dead.And yet...The memory of her moan against his mouth, her reckless defiance giving way to raw need, played over and over in his mind like a curse.Luciano slammed his glass down so hard it shattered, amber liquid spilling across the desk."Fuck," he muttered, raking a hand through his hair.He had built his empire on discipline. On control. And now — because of one reckless, infuriating girl — he was losing it.He was supposed to protect her.Not want her. Not crave her like a dying man craved air.A knock came at the door.Before he could answer, Aria pushed it open an

Aria didn't sleep that night.She sat on the cold windowsill of her tiny apartment, staring out at the city skyline, watching the neon lights blur into streaks of color against the rain-smeared glass. Everything inside her was a warzone — anger, fear, resentment, and something darker she didn’t want to name.Luciano Moretti.She hated him. She hated the way he spoke to her like she was a disobedient child. Hated the way his eyes pinned her in place, making her feel seen in a way no one else ever had. Hated that underneath all the hate… was heat.Dangerous, forbidden heat.She pressed her forehead against the glass and closed her eyes. If she didn't sign the contract, she'd be alone. Vulnerable. The Bellini name would mean nothing without Luciano’s protection. She would be a target for every enemy their family had ever made — and there were plenty.The truth was simple: she couldn’t survive this world without him.And maybe, deep down, she didn’t want to.The next morning,

The air smelled of expensive whiskey, old leather, and danger.Luciano Moretti sat at the head of the long oak table, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. His dark gray suit was tailored within an inch of its life, but it did nothing to soften the brutal power coiled in his massive frame. A scar curved over his right brow, a souvenir from a life lived in the shadows — a life built on blood, betrayal, and fear.He was the king of this city’s underworld. The mere whisper of his name made grown men falter. Cold. Calculated. Brutal. And now, thanks to his father's last will and testament, he was shackled to a responsibility he neither wanted nor asked for.Marriage.To **her**.Luciano’s jaw tightened at the thought. His new "wife" was none other than Aria Bellini — his twenty-one-year-old stepsister.The same reckless, fiery girl who had once driven him insane by sneaking out of the house at night, laughing at his rules, tempting the very edge of his patience. Back then, he could d