Novels by Ugo Ananaba

Flames and Fraying BondsAlessandro’s trust still burned in her chest from their near-kiss last night. His vow to handle the warehouse, to catch Luca and Sofia with her intel, had left her here, safe but restless, her mind racing with the mole’s betrayal. Matteo’s shadow loomed larger now, Sergio’s warning about his vengeful sabotage—a warehouse fire—echoing in her head. Her cunning, not combat, was her weapon, and she’d tipped Alessandro about the attack, her strategic mind keeping her out of the fight, just as he’d insisted.Her phone buzzed, unknown number: Matteo’s moving. Warehouse burns tonight. Her pulse spiked, the mole’s reach—Luca, tied to Sofia—stinging like a fresh wound. She hadn’t told Alessandro about this text yet, guarding her cards until she could confirm Matteo’s plan. Clara’s article, Giulia’s betrayal, Dante’s desperate texts—Sofia’s closing in—piled pressure on her, but Livia was no longer Dante’s gambled bride. She was a queen, and her next move was to outsmart

Cracked Plans and Clear HeartsAlessandro’s demand for proof echoed in her mind, his trust—forged in the panic room’s glow during the ambush, sealed by her strategic tip; hanging in the balance. Luca’s betrayal, tied to Sofia’s schemes, threatened everything, and Livia’s pulse raced as she planned her next move. She wasn’t Dante’s gambled bride anymore; she was a queen, and queens didn’t wait for checkmate.Her fingers brushed the piano keys, Alessandro’s gift, but her mind was on Sofia, whose venomous taunts at the poker den had stirred a jealousy Livia loathed but couldn’t shake.Another text from an unknown number buzzed her phone, sharp in the loft’s silence: Sofia’s closer than you think. Check Alessandro’s phone. She choked on her breath, her heart thudding as jealousy flared, a hot spark she channeled into cunning. Was Sofia seducing Alessandro, using Luca to unravel their alliance? Livia deleted the text. She’d outsmart Sofia, not with fists but with the sharp mind she’d honed

The Safehouse and the SourceLivia stepped from the black SUV, her suitcase light in her hand—a single bag, packed with essentials, a quiet declaration of freedom reclaimed. Her green eyes scanned the industrial district’s deserted streets, the concrete buildings looming like silent sentinels. Clara’s article, Giulia’s betrayal, Dante’s desperate texts—they swirled in her mind, but the mole’s warning from the jazz club—The mole sees everything—kept her on edge.Alessandro stood by the SUV, his black coat flecked with morning mist, tracking her with that quiet intensity that saw through her defenses. The bandage on his arm, bloodied from the ambush, peeked from his sleeve, a stark reminder of the danger he’d shielded her from.“Be careful,” he said, his voice low, introverted but heavy with protective care, his faint scar catching the dawn’s light. His hand brushed the handle of her suitcase, a fleeting touch that sent a spark of heat through her veins, his Possessive Protector edge so

The Article and the AmbushThe Milan dawn casts jagged shadows across Livia’s tablet as she reads Clara’s latest article. The headline screamed: Shadow King of Milan: The Mafia’s Hidden Power. Her sister’s words didn’t name Alessandro outright, but the details—his docks, his deals, his empire—pointed straight to him. Livia’s heart pounded, her fingers clutching the worn edges of Clara’s old letter, tucked in her sweater pocket beside Alessandro’s safehouse key.Clara was fearless, reckless, digging into a world that could swallow her whole, and Livia’s guilt churned—she’d warned her anonymously, but her sister hadn’t stopped. Now, Alessandro’s empire was exposed, and Livia was caught in the crossfire.Her green eyes flicked to the study, where Alessandro’s silhouette moved, his low voice barking orders through a phone. “Tighten the docks. Russo’s sniffing again.” His tone was clipped, his introverted control fraying after last night’s jazz club, where her piano had drawn his “You’re u

The Bet and the Melody The backroom of the poker den reeked of cigar smoke and desperation, the air thick with the clink of chips and the low growl of men betting their lives away. Livia stood in the shadows, her black coat blending with the dim corners, her green eyes locked on Dante across the table. His slicked-back hair was mussed, his hazel eyes bloodshot, his hands trembling as he pushed his father’s watch—a tarnished silver heirloom—into the pot. Sofia stood behind him, her gold earrings glinting, her sultry smile urging him on. “Raise it, Dante,” she purred, her hand on his shoulder like a leash. “Show them you’re still a man.” Livia’s jaw clenched, her fingers tightening around the safehouse key in her pocket, Alessandro’s trust a steady anchor after Giulia’s betrayal last night.She’d come here on a tip from Sergio, her chain-smoking informant, who’d whispered about Dante’s latest gamble—a rigged bet set up by Sofia to trap him deeper with Russo. Livia wasn’t here to save

Betrayal in the FrameShe stood outside Giulia’s apartment in the Navigli district, clutching a faded photo of her and Giulia, taken years ago when they were teenagers, laughing under a summer sky. Now, that memory felt like a lie. Sergio’s warning about a mole echoed in her mind, and Giulia’s name had surfaced in a text from an unknown number, slipped into her clutch after the club last night: Giulia’s talking to Sofia. Safehouse compromised. Livia’s heart pounded, her auburn hair sticking to her neck as she steeled herself. Giulia, her childhood friend, had sold her out.The safehouse key Alessandro gave her weighed in her pocket. She couldn’t afford to lose that trust. But Giulia’s betrayal cut deeper than Dante’s voicemails or Sofia’s taunts. Livia had trusted her, shared secrets over late-night coffees, only to learn she’d leaked her plans to Sofia, Dante’s scheming ally. The photo trembled in her hand, Giulia’s smile now a smirk. Livia’s green eyes narrowed with resolve hardenin