Why Are Jeff Spicoli Quotes So Iconic?

Every April Fools’ Day, Wilson Hale and Chloe Mercer turned our anniversary into a joke. A fake proposal. A trick ring. A room full of laughter. And every year, Wilson was sure I loved him too much to leave. This year, cake cream slid down my face, my ring hit the marble floor, and he still smiled like I would forgive him by morning. He forgot one thing. I was not Vivian Gray, the lonely girl with nowhere to go. I was Vivian Vescari, daughter of the most feared mafia family on the East Coast. I had left that world because I wanted to be loved before anyone knew my name. For six years, I thought Wilson was that man. Then I learned even his first confession had been an April Fools’ bet. So I stopped being the joke. I went home.

I’ve got a killer hourglass figure and siren eyes. In Hollywood, I’m the ultimate sex symbol. But after five years in this town, not a single producer would dare lay a finger on me. Because the man in my bed is Don Vincenzo, the most ruthless mafia boss in New York. Seven years together. Every time we finished, he’d hold me close, kiss me, and carry me to the bathroom to clean me up. I naively thought I’d be the only woman by his side. That I'd even be his Donna. Until the night of my 28th birthday. After the family dinner, I heard him sneer to his underboss: "Chloe is fun to play with, but for my Donna, I have other options." In that instant, I ripped out my cheap, pathetic heart. I became exactly what he wanted: a perfect mistress who only cared about his money. But Vincenzo didn't seem to like that. His dark, dangerous eyes locked onto mine. "Besides this Manhattan penthouse, is there really nothing else you want from me?" I wrapped my arms around his neck, letting out a fake gasp of surprise. "You mean I can pick out a Ferrari, too?"

I served three years in federal prison for the Don's precious Sophia, and then he suddenly fell for me. The day he came to pick me up, he had a sapphire necklace ready, the kind I'd begged him for once and never got. I dropped it onto the back seat without a second glance. His expression darkened. "If you have something to say, just say it. Don't take it out on things." I smiled. "Three years inside taught me never to keep anything valuable on me. It would only bring trouble." He swallowed hard and pulled me close. "That's over now. You have me. Whatever you want, I'll get it for you." I pushed him back. "Then give me my wedding ring." I'd told him once: if the day ever came that I was leaving, I'd take that ring with me. Three years had been more than enough to kill whatever love I had left.

Everyone says Matteo only married me out of debt. My father took a bullet for him. Four years into our marriage, my separation anxiety hit an all-time high. As the Don, he never snapped. He canceled big meetings. He stayed every single time panic set in. At my worst, I held onto his arm all night. Even when it went numb, he never pulled back. He put up with it all. The late-night location checks. Going through his phone. He stayed until I thought we were solid. I thought it was love. Then the floating words started appearing. His soft chuckle and sweet "You're impossible" actually came with this: [When is this nightmare over?] His gentle "My girl is the prettiest" really meant: [God, she's so full of herself.] That was my wake-up call. His patience was never love. It was just a cold obligation. If I'm just a burden he tolerates, I'm out.

[UNDERGOING HEAVY REVISION] Go ahead and check out my other complete and ongoing books. I personally recommend Contracted for the Alpha and Marked by Moonlight. You can thank me later. 😉 "Are you nervous, Miss Bologna?" What the fuck? Did he just read me? I shifted slightly in my seat. "Detective Gunner, you seem to think you know me. But let me assure you, you don't." He shook his head, an inky black curl moving down his forehead. "I might not know you, Miss Bologna, but all one point two million followers don't know you either." A cocky grin crossed his face, drawing my attention to those damn dimples again. I uncrossed my legs and then crossed them again. "It's a necessary precaution." He held his arms up and shrugged. "And I get that. Being the daughter of the wealthy, powerful, notorious Wall Street guru, Dante Bologna has its downsides, I suppose." I glowered at him from underneath my lashes. "Tell me what you want, Detective Gunner." He tucked his phone back into his pants pocket. "I want you to tell me what the fuck is happening in this city." * * * To Love A Bologna is a four-volume series about the trials, temptations, and heart-burning romance of the Bologna family. | This first volume is focused on Nessa, the last and only daughter of the renowned mafia lord, Dante Bologna, and her love interest, Detective James Gunner who is on a quest to catch and destroy the Bologna family. When detective Gunner discovers the truth about the Bolognas, will he be able to go through with his plans? Or will his stolen heart make the choice for him?

Enter the halls of Rochester, better known as the Mafia Academy. Alessandro Brambilla, the future of the Brambilla family, enjoys breaking rules. There's a very special princess who owed a blood debt. He will take his revenge and the rules be damned. Rochester is a safe place, or so they say, for mafia progeny who will enter an unsafe world after graduation. Rule #1 No maiming or killing. Rule # 2 Keep your hands off mafia princesses. Gia knows he's waiting for the perfect opportunity. She knows he hates her with a deadly passion. Her father killed Alessandro's mother and Gia is the one who will pay.