LOGINAnne Mancini died six years ago. At least, that’s what Luca Romani—the ruthless Don of the Italian mafia—was forced to believe. He mourned her. Buried her memory deep inside his cold, violent heart. But he never stopped loving the woman who vanished without a trace. Now she’s back. Alive. Hiding under a false name. Desperate to uncover the truth about her past while protecting the son Luca was never supposed to know existed. But secrets do not survive in Luca’s world. When he discovers Anne alive after years of grief and betrayal, his love turns into obsession. His obsession turns into revenge. And revenge becomes something far more dangerous when he realizes the woman he hates is still the only one capable of destroying him. Because Anne carries more than secrets. She carries his child. His past. And a bloodline tied to Luca’s greatest enemy—the Russian mafia. Caught between two criminal empires, hunted by enemies on all sides, Anne and Luca are dragged into a brutal war fueled by betrayal, obsession, jealousy, and a love neither of them can kill. He should destroy her. Instead, he burns the world for her. But in the mafia, love is never gentle…And obsession always comes with blood. The Don’s Sinful Obsession is a dark mafia romance filled with enemies-to-lovers tension, secret children, betrayal, possessive antiheroes, dangerous passion, mafia wars, and emotionally addictive twists.
View More~~~Anne's POV~~~I don't remember leaving the club.One moment I am sitting in that red velvet chair, Luca's words still burning in my ears, his cold smile still carved into my memory like a brand on cattle. The whiskey glass in his hand. The way he said mistress like it is a gift instead of a cage.The next moment I am outside, stumbling down the alley, my heels slipping on wet pavement, my lungs gasping for air I can't seem to find. The night air hits my face. Cold. Sharp. It wakes something in me.Run.The word explodes in my chest.I run.Not toward my apartment. I can't go there. He knows where I live. He has been there. He broke in. He killed a man on my floor while I watched. My landlord's blood is probably still on the floorboards. His slippers still by the door.I run toward the train station. The same one I almost used before. The same one where I bought a ticket north, back to Sarah, back to Austin, back to the only life that matters.Foolish. Stupid. He caught me there onc
~~~Anne's POV~~~The room does not get quieter when Luca smiles. It gets heavier.The other men keep talking. The women keep laughing. The smoke keeps curling toward the ceiling. Ice clinks against glass. Someone tells a joke I don't hear. Someone else laughs too loud.But none of it touches me. None of it matters.Only him.Only those cold blue eyes watching me from the head of the table like I am something he has caught and hasn't decided whether to kill or keep. Like I am a rabbit in a trap, and he is deciding which knife to use."Don't stand there like a ghost," Luca says. His voice is smooth. Too smooth. The kind of smooth that comes before a blade slides between ribs. "Come. Sit."I don't move. My feet are glued to the floor. My arms hang limp at my sides. The bottles I carried are gone. Taken by Marco. I have nothing to hold onto. Nothing to hide behind.Marco pulls out a chair. Right beside Luca. Right inside his reach. The cushion is red velvet. Stained. I wonder how many oth
~~~Anne's POV~~~The Velvet Room smells like spilled whiskey and desperation.Same smell every night. Same sticky floors. Same cracked vinyl booths where men old enough to be my father try to put their hands on my waist. Same dead look in the eyes of the other girls who work here, the ones who have been here too long, the ones who have stopped hoping for something better.I have only been here a month. Already I understand.My arm aches. The bandage is fresh—I changed it before my shift, wincing at the angry red skin underneath. My ribs scream every time I reach for a glass or bend to wipe a table. My split lip has stopped bleeding, but the cut keeps opening when I smile at customers.I smile anyway. Fake. Hollow. The way I have learned to survive.You have survived worse, I tell myself. You survived Lucinda. You survived the fire. You survived watching your mother's body burn.A man at table four snaps his fingers at me. Demands another drink. I bring it. He doesn't say thank you. Th
~~~Luca's POV~~~The knock comes at midnight.I don't look up from my desk. Papers spread everywhere. Contracts. Ledgers. Names of men who owe me money and men who owe me blood. I have been staring at the same page for over an hour, seeing nothing.My mind is still back in that shabby house. Anne's blood on the floor. The gun in her hand. The look in her eyes when she pulls the trigger.She'd rather die than be with me."Come in."Marco enters. I know it is him before he speaks. The way he walks. The way he breathes. I have known the man for fifteen years. He is my shadow. My sword. My one loyalty I never question.But tonight, his face is careful and empty. Just the way he looks when he doesn't want me to read him."Boss." He holds out a plain envelope with no return address or name. Just cream-colored paper and the weight of something inside. "This was left at the gate."I set down my pen. "By who?""No cameras caught it. The men were watching every angle, but nothing."I turn the e
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