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On the day of her wedding, Liliana Crawford’s life shatters when the church doors burst open and Dante Moretti, the ruthless head of the Italian mafia, claims her as his own. What should have been the start of a safe, predictable life with her fiancé turns into a nightmare of blood, betrayal, and chains. Dante doesn’t want her love—he wants her obedience. To him, Liliana is more than just leverage; she’s a weapon, a possession, a doll to break and reshape. But as days in his gilded cage stretch into nights filled with dangerous temptation, Liliana discovers that beneath his cruelty lies a twisted obsession that burns hotter than hatred. Torn between the man she was raised to marry and the devil who stole her, Liliana must survive a world of violence and power games where every touch is a threat, every kiss a battle, and every promise comes drenched in blood. Dark, intoxicating, and dangerously addictive, The Devil’s Claim is a mafia romance where love is war, passion is punishment, and surrender might be the only way to survive.
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THE DEVIL'S CLAIM THE LESSON
Liliana’s POVThe first thing I feel when I wake up is rage.Not fear, not despair but rage.It scorches through my chest like acid when my eyes flick open to the silk canopy above Dante’s bed. The dress from yesterday still clings to me, ripped lace and smeared makeup crusted into the fabric. I reek of smoke, sweat, and humiliation. My stomach twists, both from hunger and disgust.For a second, I almost think it’s all been a nightmare. The raid, the gunshots, Ethan bleeding, being dragged into Dante’s car like I was a sack of grain instead of a bride. But then I move, and the ache in my wrists from his grip, the raw skin on my arms from fighting, the way my throat feels bruised from screaming and yeah, none of it was a dream.I’m still here. Still his prisoner.The bastard’s words echo in my head. Tomorrow, I’ll start your lessons.I roll onto my side, pressing my knees to my chest. A scream builds in my throat but dies before it can leave. Screaming won’t do shit. It’ll only make hi
Последнее обновление : 2025-09-10THE DEVIL'S CLAIM CHAINS OF OBSESSION
Dante’s POVBlood dries too fast on cheap suits.That’s the thought running through my head as I watch the man kneeling on the warehouse floor, his face pale, eyes wide with terror. His hands are zip-tied behind his back, shoulders jerking as though he can shake off the fear dripping down his spine.The concrete under him is stained with darker spots, old blood, piss, oil. A graveyard of stains. He’ll be part of it soon.Marco flicks open his knife beside me, impatient. Luca leans against a pillar, sipping espresso like this is a quiet morning at some Roman café instead of another execution.I drag on my cigar, exhaling slow, letting the smoke curl between us like a sermon. “Do you know what pisses me off more than betrayal?”The man swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing. “Please, Mr. De Luca, I....I didn’t mean to....”I slam my fist against the metal table. The sound rings out like a gunshot. “Answer the fucking question.”He flinches. His lips tremble. “I....I don’t know.”“Cowards,”
Последнее обновление : 2025-09-09THE DEVIL'S CLAIM GILDED CAGE
LILIANA'S POV I lie there long after the door slams, the echo still vibrating in my bones.The sheets smell like him. Expensive cologne and smoke, faint leather and gunpowder, as if even the fabric knows it belongs to a man like Dante Moretti. I hate it. I hate that the scent clings to me now, burrowed into my skin like a bruise I can’t scrub away.My wrists ache where he pinned them, red marks blooming like flowers on pale flesh. His weight still lingers on me, phantom heat, the press of his knee between my thighs. I hate that my body remembered it even when I’m trying to forget.“Fuck,” I whisper to the ceiling, voice trembling.I want to scream. I want to rip the silk sheets apart, claw at the walls until my fingers bleed. But I can’t, not here, not in his cage where he’d only laugh at me. He’d like it too much.He already does.I curl onto my side, pulling my knees to my chest. My dress is torn, ruined, the last remnant of a wedding that never was. A wedding that was nothing but
Последнее обновление : 2025-09-04THE DEVIL'S CLAIM DEVIL'S CLAIM
DANTE'S POV She looks small in my bed.Pathetic, broken, trembling under silk sheets she doesn’t deserve. The chandelier light throws gold across her skin, and I stand in the doorway longer than I should, just watching her.My doll.The thought makes me smirk.Liliana Crawford, daughter of a legacy, fiancée to a weak fucking boy who couldn’t hold his own balls in his hands if I cut them off. And now she’s mine. Mine to keep, to ruin, to carve into something worthy of me.The irony of it tastes sweeter than blood.I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her chest rise and fall. Even asleep, she looks defiant. Jaw tight, fists curled, like she’s still ready to fight me in her dreams. Cute.But I’ll break her. They all break eventually.--The morning is quiet when I step into the kitchen. My men are already there, Luca, sipping espresso like he doesn’t have three bodies to dump before lunch; Marco, sharpening his knife as if he’s auditioning for a horror flick.They go sil
Последнее обновление : 2025-09-04THE DEVIL'S CLAIM CAGED DOLL
LILIANA'S POVWhen I wake up, the first thing I notice is that I’m not dead.The second thing I notice is that I wish I were.My eyes snap open, heart pounding. For a second, I don’t recognize the ceiling above me was vaulted, carved wood, lit by a golden chandelier. The sheets beneath me are silk, smooth and cool, nothing like the hotel sheets at the bridal suite I should’ve been in last night.And then it all comes back.The gunshots. The blood. Ethan screaming. Dante Moretti’s hand gripping my arm.The chloroform.I jolt upright, breath ragged. My dress is torn at the seams, one strap hanging by a thread, my veil gone. My bouquet… gone. My fucking wedding, gone.Instead, I’m in a gilded cage.The room is bigger than my entire apartment in the city—velvet drapes, marble floors, mirrors with golden frames. Everything screams wealth, power, danger. And the door is locked. Of course it is.I stumble out of bed, my legs weak. My bare feet sink into the plush carpet as I rush to the door
Последнее обновление : 2025-09-04THE DEVIL'S CLAIM THE DEVIL'S PRIZE
DANTE'S POVPeople call me the Devil of New York. They’re not wrong.I’ve killed men for less than a dirty look. I’ve gutted rats who thought they could steal from me. I’ve fucked women who begged for mercy and made them beg for more pain instead. My empire runs on blood, loyalty, and fear. That’s the only language this rotten world understands.And tonight, I reminded everyone of it.Crawford thought he could play me. Thought he could borrow money from my syndicate, promise returns, and then ghost like I’m some dumb fuck banker. No. You don’t spit in my face and walk away.So I took something from him. Something that makes men bleed harder than bullets.His bride.The girl’s slumped against the leather seat of my car now, her white wedding dress torn, veil long gone. Her head rests limply against the window, chloroform still working through her system.I should only see her as leverage. That was the plan. Take his woman, hold her until Crawford crawls back on his knees. Maybe cut her
Последнее обновление : 2025-09-04
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