Books Written By Donna Tartt

Marriage was never about love, it was a weapon, a strategy, the final step Leonardo Mancini needed to claim his place as Don. In his world, love is weakness, and weakness gets you killed. For Nora Romano, life was simple until the night her father’s debt to the mafia became her burden. The price? Her freedom. The cost? Becoming the wife of a man whose name was feared across Italy. What begins as a marriage of leverage soon spirals into a dangerous game of secrets, betrayal, and blood loyalty. As enemies close in and trust fractures within the family, Leonardo is forced to confront the one thing he swore he’d never risk.... his heart. Can a man built on power and control balance the weight of love? And can Nora give her heart to someone whose world embodies everything she despises? In the mafia, love is the deadliest gamble of all.

The Mad Donna He Never Really Married For three years, I was Donna of the rising Valenti family. One day, Enzo was holding a meeting at a private cigar club. I worried about his stomach issues, so I went to bring him his usual antacids. Standing outside the private room, I heard his men laughing. “Don Enzo, are you really going to keep Clara hidden away at the Silver Lake villa forever?” “That mad Moretti heiress in the main house is still parading around as Donna of the Valenti family.” Enzo rubbed the bridge of his nose and scoffed. “If she hadn’t taken a bullet to the head for me and gone insane, and if I hadn’t desperately needed her family’s capital, I never would have married a woman with no blood ties to the life.” “But Clara is my legal wife. The family trust, the marriage certificate at City Hall, it’s all in her name.” “Stella’s just a plaything I keep at the main house. Once Clara gives birth to an heir, I’ll bring her home for good.” My knuckles turned white as I squeezed the small box of medicine, the cardboard crumpling in my hand. He had exchanged blood oaths and rings with me in the church, yet it was Clara who had signed the papers at City Hall. He played me for a fool, all to keep Clara’s reputation clean. Clutching the box, I turned and melted back into the shadows. He had no idea my sanity had returned three days ago. He would never guess I had already sent an encrypted message to my brother, who runs a business empire from our home in Solaria, far across the sea. I was done with this goddamn Valenti title.

My baby brother was barely a month old when my father's mistress threw him off the upstairs balcony to his death. Then she turned around and said my mother had done it. And my father, the Don, took the mistress at her word and had my mother killed. That woman framed me too, and I was cast out of the house. For the next fifteen years, I clawed my way up through begging and reckless grit, until I became the Donna of the Vanetti family. Then one day, my adopted son Daniel Vanetti brought his new girlfriend to meet me. "Mother, this is Via, the Principessa of the Vitale family. I want to marry her." I looked at Via. Her face was the spitting image of my father's mistress. What a small world. The daughter of the woman who killed my mother had walked right up to my door. So I refused without a second's hesitation. "I don't approve."

Nicole Evans never asked to be followed. She never asked for eyes in the dark, for a man like Vane to orbit her life with silence and devotion sharp enough to wound. But obsession doesn’t ask permission. It waits. It watches. It becomes inevitable. What began with missing men and shadows on rooftops soon unraveled into something far more intimate—an assassin who couldn’t let go, and a woman who, piece by piece, stopped trying to make him. As friends vanished and her world narrowed, Nicole found herself drawn toward the very thing she feared most—not out of love, but recognition. In his violence, there was something terrifyingly tender. In his silence, something that listened more closely than anyone else ever had. Theirs is not a love story in any ordinary sense. It’s a descent—a long, slow collapse into dependency, into surrender. A story told in bruises and shared tea, in blood and in stillness. A quiet unraveling that doesn’t end in escape, but in a house by the sea, where memory lingers and echoes never fade. Some stories don’t ask to be understood. Only remembered.

When American engineer Evan Hart arrives in Rome, he expects worn stones, ancient architecture, and a chance to quietly rethink his failing marriage. He doesn’t expect Livia Moretti—the enigmatic archivist whose fragile intensity pulls him into a slow-burning, dangerous affair he never meant to start. Livia is brilliant, secretive, and a little broken… and Evan can’t stay away. But when he finally tells his wife Leah he wants a separation, she collapses, claiming she’s been diagnosed with a devastating neurological disease. Overnight, Evan’s guilt becomes a trap. Then Livia disappears without a trace. Anonymous photographs of him and Livia arrive in the mail. A stranger begins watching his apartment. And Leah—sweet, steady Leah—starts behaving in ways he can’t explain. When Evan finds hidden documents and photographs connecting the two women in his life, he follows a clue to a remote coastal village, where he learns Livia once lived under a different name… and may have been running from something far darker than heartbreak. As Evan digs deeper, he uncovers the edge of a conspiracy built on identity, memory, and manipulation—one determined to keep its secrets buried. Someone is pulling strings. Someone is rewriting the truth. And someone wants Evan to stop asking questions. Caught between a wife he no longer understands and a lover who may not be who she claimed to be, Evan is forced to confront the one question he never thought to ask: If the women in his life are wearing borrowed identities… then who has been shaping his? In a story of seduction, deception, and emotional obsession, All the Names She Wore explores the dangerous terrain between love and control—and what happens when the truth becomes the most terrifying lie of all.

Nora Ellison has spent her whole life not knowing where she came from. Adopted as a baby, and raised by her grandmother Ruth. Until Ruth dies and leaves behind a tin box containing a birth certificate she has never seen, a letter and a photograph of a woman she does not recognise with the words Chiang Mai, 1998 written on the back. She flies to Thailand to find answers. On her first night she locks herself out of her rented cottage, falls into a fertilizer trench in the dark, and ends up stranded on a deserted road in a soaked sundress with nowhere to go. A car passes by and stops. “What the actual hell do you think you are doing out here looking like that?” Arlo Reeves is arrogant, sarcastic, and impossibly handsome. She is convinced she hates him. He takes her in for the night anyway. What Nora does not know is that Arlo was partly sent to Chiang Mai to keep an eye on the cottage she is renting. What neither of them knows is that the secret buried in that cottage is the same secret Nora came to Thailand to find. As Nora starts her investigation, she and Arlo keep ending up in the same places. But the closer Nora gets to the truth, the more dangerous it becomes. When she finally finds it and as the pieces start to fall into place, a hard slap cuts across her face before she can say a word. “You think you belong here? You were given away. You were never wanted then and you are not wanted now.” The slap stings and tears fall as she hears those words. Meanwhile across the city, Arlo Reeves has a choice to make.