LOGINAmara thought her life couldn't get worse, trapped in poverty, caring for her ailing grandmother, betrayed by the man she loved. But one night changes everything: a police raid lands her in jail, where she meets the last man she should ever cross paths with…. Alessandro Vitale, the ruthless Mafia boss feared across Italy. He offers her freedom, but at a price: Marriage. A deal, a trap, and a lifeline all at once. What Alessandro doesn't know is that Amara carries a secret… a child that belongs not to him, but to his own bloodlines' rival. Their dangerous union sparks a web of betrayal, obsession, and power struggles, where love is both their greatest weapon and their deepest weakness. As past feuds resurface and enemies circle closer, Amara must decline: will she remain a pawn in the Mafia’s deadly game, or rise as the unexpected queen of an empire built in blood.
View MoreAmara’s POV
“If Marco loved me, this test would change everything. But if I had misjudged him… then one pink line might ruin both our lives.” “Tell me, Amara, tell me, tell me!” Emma’s excitement spilled over her words, her voice higher than usual. My hands trembled as I placed the pregnancy test kit on the table. “I don’t know what it says. You check. I’ve never used one before.” Emma didn't need more encouragement. She slid into my spot, taking the kit with eager fingers. I stepped aside, heart hammering. Emma’s mother was a nurse, and Emma had practically grown up in the hospital halls. If anyone could read it right, it was her. But then…. Silent. Emma’s eyes lingered on the test, unreadable. “Don’t go quite on me,” I urged, voice sharp with nerves. “What does it say?” She looked at me, then grinned so wide it nearly split her face. “We’re having little Marco.… and I’m going to be an aunt!” she shrieked. “Shhh!” I slapped a hand over her mouth before she woke my Nonna. My grandmother would never understand our English chatter, but still, her frail body needed rest, not chaos. Excitement and fear watered inside me. I managed a shaky whisper. “So…. What do we do now?” “What do you mean?” Emma tilted her head, her eyes sparkling. “You tell Marco, of course. Then we can start planning the wedding.” Her words should have filled me with warmth, but instead, I whispered, almost to myself, “A wedding. Yes…. That’s how it’s supposed to be.” Emma squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t overthink. Just tell him.” I didn't even wait to say goodbye. My legs carried me straight to Marco’s apartment, excitement overriding reason. We hadn't spoken much about marriage yet, but Marco loved me. He would want this too. Or so I thought. When I reached his door, I hesitated, hand on the handle. That's when I heard it…. The unmistakable sound of a woman’s voice. “So when do you plan on ending it with that dirty girl?” My breath stilled. Marco’s voice came next. “Which girl? I don't know what you're talking about.” “Don’t play dumb. You know I mean Amara. I kept fucking you while you play house with her.” I froze. “You don't have to worry,” Marco said smoothly. “Amara and I…. It’s nothing serious. Just a fling.” The words slammed into me—just a fling. The stranger pressed further. “And what if this fling leads to pregnancy?” Marco laughed. Laughed. “Pregnancy? That would never happen. And even if it did….. I’d never marry someone like Amara. She doesn't fit my status. I need someone like you.” His voice dipped lower, followed by the wet sound of a kiss. The weight of my hand on the door handle suddenly became unbearable. My chest burned. My legs refused to move. He wasn't my boyfriend. He wasn't my future. I was just a joke to him. I ran before my sobs betrayed me, the night air cutting into my skin as hard as his words. But where could I go? Nonna was waiting in our tiny apartment. I couldn't raise a child there. I couldn't even afford her medicine. I pressed my palm to my mouth, mugging a sob. Emma’s words from earlier echoed cruelly: “If Marco truly loves you, he’ll stay. If he doesn't….you’ll finally know the truth,” Truth. A blade sharper than any knife. I thought of Nonna—my grandmother—her mind slipping further each day, forgetting my name, mistaking me for a stranger. Or the job I’d lost two weeks ago, the bills were piling higher than hope. Of Marco, who had sworn to build a future with me. Every memory was a thread fraying at the edges. I walked blindly until neon lights and the stale stench of alcohol pulled me into a bar. Men turned their heads as I entered, their gazes sharp, unwelcoming. No other women. The bartender was a man, too. I sat anyway. I needed to drown Marco’s betrayal, if only for a moment. “Beer,” I muttered, my voice breaking. When my phone rang, every eye snapped towards me. I turned my face away, clutching the phone like a lifeline. It was Emma. “ Amara….. Please get here now. Your Nonna tried to get up. She fell. They've admitted her, but won’t treat her until your debt is paid. I’m begging them, but they won't listen. Please, come quickly.” My stomach dropped. My breath caught. Nonna….my only family, my reason for surviving. I shoved back from the counter, ready to run….when gunfire cracked the air. One shot. Then another. Chaos erupted. The men who’d been watching me scattered instantly. Chairs overturned. The bartender vanished. My heart stopped as police sirens wailed outside. Before I could move, rough hands yanked me back. Cold metal cuffs snapped around my wrists. “Anything you say can and will be used against you.” “No….. You don't understand!” I tried to protest, but the officers shoved me forward. At the station, they herded me with the others. My mind was spinning….pregnancy, betrayal, Nonna, prison bars. My world was collapsing. And then…. A voice boomed, commanding, the impossible to ignore. “ Get me my lawyer. Now. Do you know who I am?” The guards tried to quiet him. He refused. I turned towards the sound. “And then our eyes met. Cold. Commanding. Dangerous. The man whose name was whispered with fear across Italy. The infamous Alessandro Vitale….the last man I should ever cross paths with…was staring directly at me.”Alessandro’s POV Matteo showed up later, when the sun was already high in the sky. He looked… different. Not tired. Not irritated. If anything, he looked like a man who had just recovered something precious he thought was lost. That strange glow was written all over his face. I didn’t ask where he had been or what had happened. I convinced myself it must have been a bad transaction with a client—nothing unusual in his line of work. And asking questions now would only make me seem suspicious. So I waited, letting him speak first, if he chose to. He went straight to his room. The silence that followed was heavy. I knew immediately he had noticed. The room wasn’t the way he left it. No matter how careful I’d tried to be, some things couldn’t be unseen. When he came back out, his eyes told me everything—I was already caught. Before he could say a word, I decided to get ahead of it. “The room was messy,” I said quickly. “So I decided to clean it up. I needed something to pass the t
Victor’s POVEven after I slid Alessandro’s picture across the table, Matteo didn’t understand immediately.He stared at it for a long moment, brows drawn together, confusion outweighing suspicion. I could almost see his mind searching for meaning that wasn’t there yet. That was when I reached into my jacket and brought out the second picture—the insignia, the faces, the unmistakable mark of La Camorra.The moment his eyes landed on it, everything changed.Shock hit first. Then disappointment. Then fear—raw and unfiltered.His shoulders stiffened, his jaw tightening as the truth finally sank in. I didn’t rush him. Men like Matteo needed a second to fully feel the fall before you explained how far down it went.“La Camorra sent Alessandro,” I said calmly. “Not as a friend. As a spy. To watch you. To confirm everything you’ve been doing.”I didn’t need to add much more. Matteo already knew what this meant. He had shown Alessandro everything—his routes, his clients, his habits. He hadn’t
Alessandro’s POV I hadn’t given up. No matter how many times Damian warned me, no matter how carefully he chose his words, the decision stayed rooted in me. Matteo could still be redeemed. I believed that—stubbornly, irrationally, maybe even dangerously—but I believed it all the same. I told Damian to look through any of my inherited businesses, anything legitimate enough, quiet enough, where Matteo could work without raising suspicion. Something far from Genoa’s shadows. Something that could give him a reason to stop running. Damian said he would work on it. But I knew him too well. Beneath his agreement was resistance, heavy and unspoken. He wanted me to stop. He wanted me to let Matteo fall and step back into the safety of La Camorra’s approval. To him, this was already a lost cause. Damian knew me, though. He knew once I fixed my mind on something, pulling me away from it was like trying to stop a storm with bare hands. That was why he hadn’t argued further—because h
Victor’s POVThe way Don Francesco dismissed me that day did something ugly to my pride.It wasn’t just anger—it was desperation.The kind that crawls under your skin and refuses to let you breathe until you prove yourself. Until you matter. Until the world looks at you and sees more than a son living in someone else’s shadow.Don Francesco had looked at me like I was expendable. Like I was nothing but a tool he could discard the moment I stopped being useful. And I couldn’t allow that. Not after everything I’d done. Not after everything I was still willing to do.I wanted to prove to him that I was capable. That I was dangerous. That I could accomplish what even he wouldn’t dare attempt.Destroying Alessandro Vitale.Not just hurting him. Not inconveniencing him. Not forcing him into retreat.Destroying him.I had planned to wait a little longer. Let Alessandro enjoy Genoa. Let him feel safe. Let him believe his little undercover act was going exactly as planned.But patience suddenl
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