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Running From The Mafia CEO

Running From The Mafia CEO

Mafia
last updateLast Updated : 2026-04-03
By:  Eunice. A. Apo Ongoing
Language: English
goodnovel16goodnovel
10
2 ratings. 2 reviews
115Chapters
18.0Kviews
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Synopsis

Dark Romance

Steamy

CEO

Mafia

Hidden Identity

Betrayal

Hate to Love

Pregnant

Five years ago, Maya Serrano’s mission was simple: seduce the heir of a ruthless mafia empire and take him down. She didn’t expect to lose herself in his world… or in his arms. One night of passion became a dangerous obsession, and the next morning, everything shattered. Lucien Moretti was taken from her by a high-profile sting, and Maya vanished—leaving behind the man who had stolen her heart. Now, Lucien is back. Cold, ruthless, and more powerful than ever, he has rebuilt the Moretti empire with an iron fist—and one burning question: Where is she? Maya, hiding under a new identity, is determined to stay off his radar. But fate—and a government investigation—forces them together. He doesn’t trust her. He doesn’t forgive. And this time, he won’t be denied. Then he sees her daughter. His daughter. Suddenly, the stakes are higher than revenge. The lines between love, lust, and vengeance blur. Secrets will be exposed. Loyalties tested. And a dangerous game begins—where one wrong move could destroy everything… including each other. She thought she could outrun the mafia heir. She never imagined she’d have to outrun her own heart.

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reviews

Eunice. A. Apo
Eunice. A. Apo
Amazing read
2026-03-25 00:27:17
1
0
apoeunice3
apoeunice3
I like the perspective of this story. A government agent and a rebel—both sides of the law, in bed, together.
2026-03-01 02:59:13
1
0
115 Chapters
Vanishing Point
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Vanishing Point II
This is wrong. I know it with every step I take through the winding gravel path, heels crunching against earth, palms damp at my sides.The villa rises out of the hillside like something out of a dream—or a warning. Secluded, expensive and ancient. Thick stone walls and ivy curling up around the windows, lanterns flickering like they’re waiting for someone.Like he’s waiting.The night air is warm, too quiet, and the scent of jasmine clings to it heady and distracting. I feel it winding around my senses, softening my thoughts, fogging my judgment.My phone is in my back pocket. All it would take is one call. A single breath, and I could bring everything down on him.But I don’t. Instead, I walk up the steps.The iron door is already ajar, like a welcome message. Or bait, depending on how foolish I turn out to be by the end of the night. I push it open slowly.Inside, it’s quiet. The foyer is dimly lit, with expensive art and tall windows thrown open to the midnight breeze. Somewhere
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Ghosts Don’t Stay Buried
Present dayLos Angeles, United States. Lucien’s POV The gates creak open before the car stops.I step out slowly, letting the wind hit me full in the face—sharp, fresh, biting with spring rain and expensive stone. The smell of home. It’s been five years.Five years since the government locked me in a hole and threw away the key, since I lost my freedom. Five years since she disappeared.And now, I’m back.I move slowly through the gravel drive toward the main estate, taking in my surroundings. Nothing’s changed in my absence, except the smell of death behind the walls. As I walk to the front door, it swings open and Jamie, my best friend and consigliere, steps out. “Lucien,” he says from the top of the marble steps, his voice tight. “Jesus. You look like hell.”“I feel fantastic,” I reply dryly, reaching the top. “Where is he?”Jamie doesn’t need to ask who. “Inside. Waiting. Barely. The lawyers are downstairs cleaning up the last of the mess.” I nod once and walk past him, str
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The Little Lie of Mine
Maya’s POV “I’ve assigned you as the lead consultant on the case, Jenna.”James pushes his glasses higher on his nose, his fingers tapping anxiously against the desk as he looks up at me.“You’re the best fit we have, and the project’s guaranteed to bring us the kind of clients we desperately need.” He leans back in his chair with a pointed, impatient sigh. “It’s also from the government. So it’s not like we can say no to them.”If he’d asked me before he made the decision…But he didn’t.I inhale slowly, folding my hands in my lap, pressing my thumbs together to keep from snapping. “I’m not saying you should turn it down,” I say carefully. “But I’m sure someone else on the team can take over as lead. I can coordinate everything from here—handle the framework, delegate the reports.”James raises an eyebrow. The polite part of the conversation is over.He folds his arms, and I know that look. I’ve seen it during every client pitch, every quarterly review, every time someone even sugge
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This Little Lie of Mine II
Andrew corners me just as I step out of my car in the visitor parking area of the Moretti Group headquarters.“Hey,” he says, snapping his fingers and pointing at my ankle like he’s clocking a weak spot. “Did you manage to get some ice on that? Want me to piggyback you in?”I roll my eyes. “Pretty sure that won’t scream ‘intimidating’ to the Morettis.”He clicks his tongue. “Yeah… good point.”Then he rolls his neck, side to side, like he’s working out invisible kinks, and makes a whole show of cracking his knuckles. After that, he checks his sleeves for lint, tugs his suit jacket tighter, adjusts his tie with theatrical flair—then flashes me one of his signature grins.“Let’s go.”“Sure,” I drawl flatly. “I’ll be right behind you.”The doors swing open as we approach, and I step into the lobby—immediately awestruck by the size and the sheer opulence of it all. Polished marble floors stretch out beneath high ceilings, where chandeliers glint like a thousand tiny suns. The air smells
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The Devil You Don’t Remember
Lucien’s POV “Have you found her?” Jamie strides into my office an hour after they leave, his hand tucked into his pocket. “Because I haven’t. It never takes me this long to find anyone and I’ve been at it for days.”He rubs the back of his neck with a displeased frown and sinks into the chair. He drags it close, slapping his hands on the desk. “One other thing.”Here it comes. His brow arches quizzically. “You didn’t tell me she used to work for the CIA. When I was going to get that piece of information?” He tutts. “You gotta start telling me things, man. I almost walked into a room full of trip wires. Not a room—” he gestures when I tilt my head slowly and my lips flatten, “—but you get what I mean. I could’ve alerted them to my not-so pleasant activities.”I lean back without a response, folding my arms loosely. “So?” He prompts. “Is she under witness protection? Did she kill someone? I asked if you fell in love with her and you brushed it off. What’s going on?”He’s closer to
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Contracts and Distractions
The next evening comes back quicker than expected and I get a message from Jamie as I step out of a meeting. “Louvre Hotel. 7pm.”I swipe down on my screen, checking the time. 6:30 pm. “Thirty minutes,” I mumble. I deliberate on postponing it, but my hesitation only lasts a couple seconds. Better to get it over and done with. As I slip my phone into my pocket, it buzzes again. I take it out. Another message from Jamie. “There’s a bouquet waiting in your office. Flowers are ice breakers.”Scoffing lightly, I shove my phone back in. I don’t need flowers for a business arrangement. If Giuliana is anything like her father, she wouldn’t expect to be wooed either. I gather my things from my office with a brisk message for my secretary to forward any important messages—any excuse to get out of dinner—before heading down. “Where to, sir?” My driver asks as I slide into the backseat. “The Louvre Hotel,” I say, leaning back with a tired sigh. The car peels away from the building and I clo
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Tough Choices
Maya The boot hits the floor with a thud and I feel another of my patience slip away. I bite my tongue, swallowing down my frustration as I straighten from my crouch. “Woah,” I mutter as the ground tilts, reaching out with a hand to the wall to steady myself. I close my eyes for a moment, shake my head and open them again. “Okay,” I clear my throat with renewed purpose, heading over to grab the rejected boot. I turn with it in hand, facing my daughter standing at the far end of the corridor, with both hands firmly crossed in protest and a defiant pout on her face. “Remember what we said about communication? How you tell mommy what you don’t want instead of throwing a tantrum?” I say slowly, enunciating every word. “Ari?” She nods, but I hear the huff that slips out. At least we’re making some progress. I take a deep breath, then a much deeper one when my alarm goes on in the living room. I set it ten minutes earlier than yesterday, so I have some time. Some, not a lot. “So
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Testing the Waters
LucienI raise my head, closing the large, boring folder in front of me when she appears by the door. My chest knots, quicker than I expected, as my gaze slowly washes over her—unhurriedly. She has her hair in a ponytail, a little too tight judging by the tiny vein propped out on her forehead, and my fingers itch, sliding across the desk, to loosen it a little. Pink. Her lipstick is barely visible, the flattest shade of pink to match her lips. There’s a bit of color on her cheekbones…blush, brightening her eyes just well enough that my gaze lingers on the lashes that frame her face. She’s prim, proper even and yet something traitorous slithers down my chest, burning warm in my stomach.She doesn’t look happy to see me, though. Oh, well. Happiness isn’t a luxury I can offer. I rise from my chair, a tiny, wry smile curling the corner of my mouth. “I hope I didn’t cause your colleague any trouble?”She scoffs lightly as her mouth twitches. It’s not meant for me to hear, I know, but
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Testing the Waters II
“Sure,” she nods. “It’s fine.”“Jenna,” I murmur as I brace my hands on either side of my chair, my fingers stretching over the edge of the armrests. It doesn’t feel the same. Even when she said her name was Elena, it tasted odd on my tongue, like something was missing. Now, Maya—that fits. Warm, blue eyes, Maya, with a tiny dent in her chin whenever she tilted it in defiance. Long, wavy hair, like silk threads between my fingers, and that soft—my eyes drop to her mouth, to the tiny space between her lips, and I inhale sharply, struck with a jolt in my chest that feels nothing like the measured, carefully-chosen words passing between us. I clear my throat as my fingernails dig into the leather, biting through the surface. “I think I’ll stick with Miss Carr,” I say. “I wouldn’t want your colleague to think I’m crossing any professional lines.” I glance at the door, then slowly back at her. That goddamn band around her ponytail. Her hair is shorter than it was five years ago, but
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