Lyrics To Livin On A Prayer By Bon Jovi

"Don't try to escape, Lisa. Be a good girl, and you won't have to be punished for it. From the moment you said yes to me, you became mine… your body and your life belong to me," his baritone voice whispered as his hands slid between my thighs. ** When Lisa Sanders is kidnapped by Alessio DeLuca, a ruthless Mafia boss, she’s thrust into a world of danger, luxury, and deceit. "She thought he was a monster. He thought she was his salvation." But the closer she gets to him, the more she realizes he’s not the monster she imagined. Beneath his cold exterior lies a man haunted by his own demons. In a world of lies, bloodshed, and forbidden love, can they survive the ultimate betrayal?

Not so fast blue eyes,what did I say about disobeying my orders? he asked with an angry face as he move closer to her his voice dangerous and possessive I try to defend myself but the look he gave me made me zip whatever that want to come out off my mouth up. I'm going to punish you blue eye,you are mine and you belong to me alone,why will you wear something Skippy for other male to stare at? Strip!! ...... His name is Lorenzo, a devil incarnate that kill without mercy,he owns the mafia world,his name scream fear . Just one encounter with selena and he became obsessed calling her his but what happen when she is too pure for the kind of world he owns...can a Catholic sister blend into the mafia world? Selena who has worship God all her life and raised in a righteous way. What happen when she gets entangled with the most deadliest mafia lord? Will she be able to change this sinner?

Shortly after we said "I do," the Family sent my husband, Dario, down to the Mexican border. He told me it was a meat grinder down there—cartel territory. where guys were zipped into body bags every day. He said he had to go—to expand the territory, for the glory of the Family. He claimed it was too dangerous and that his enemies would paint a target on my back, so he wouldn't take me with him. I believed him. I stayed behind in his old, rot-infested house in New Jersey, taking care of his bitter, spiteful parents. I spent my days and nights in the Family's moldy laundromat, washing bills stained with blood. He told me he sent every dime he made down there to the widow of a brother who took a bullet for him. He asked me to be understanding. I never complained. Day after day, I pressed expensive suits in that humid laundromat, waiting for him to come home. It wasn't until the eighth year that a mobster came back drunk. When I asked about Dario, he froze, then sneered at me through a haze of alcohol. "Dario? Are you kidding? He’s been a King in Manhattan for years. He’s the youngest Underboss of the Corleone family." I stood frozen, the iron in my hand burning a hole right through a shirt. "And he got married seven years ago. Biggest cathedral in New Jersey. Half the mob was there to toast the groom..." He pulled a crumpled photo from his leather jacket. Snuggled up against my husband was a woman in a high-end couture gown—the very same "poor, widowed sister-in-law" he had told me about. The next day, I contacted a fixer who specialized in fake IDs. On the application for a one-way ticket to Europe—a ticket to vanish off the face of the earth—I filled in the fake name I had prepared long ago. He trapped me for seven years with a sham marriage. From now on, I’d be done with this damn loyalty.

Every Thanksgiving, my husband, Salvatore, brings home a showgirl from one of his clubs. He makes me kneel and serve them drinks. A lesson, he calls it, in how to please a man. This was the eighth Thanksgiving, and this time, he brought back a girl poured into a tight leather dress. "She doesn't have any decent jewelry," Salvatore announced. "Give her your heirloom diamond ring. Your grandmother's pearl earrings, too. And take off that silk choker for her." He smirked. "And listen, she's young, doesn't know the rules. You'll have to show her the ropes. Especially how to handle a man in bed." Every member of the Genovese family was watching, waiting for my humiliation. I didn't disappoint. I opened my mouth and asked Salvatore for a divorce. Salvatore let out a sharp, ugly laugh, his eyes full of contempt. "Francesca, you pull this same shit every time," he jeered. "Your act is pathetic. Even more dramatic than your performance in bed." He leaned in. "You really want to divorce me? Fine. I'll give you five million in cash if you actually walk out that door." The living room erupted in laughter. They all said I was playing hard to get, that I didn't know my place. But they didn't know. This was the 88th time I had asked for a divorce, and it was the first time I truly meant it.

He rescued her and now he can't let her go... Giovanni de Luca, a Beverly Hills born mobster climbing the ladder to success. He will do anything to protect his family and ensure their successful name throughout L.A. When he meets Rosalia Bernardi, a gorgeous young woman from Palermo, things change dramatically. It's not only him and his family he has to protect now but also the young life of Rosalia. The pair commence a rollercoaster ride they can't seem to get off especially because Giovanni is in the Mafia.

A lethal neurotoxin had taken hold of my lungs. My time is running out. My mother, Sofia, was the most connected lawyer in Palermo, excelling in burying crimes and twisting the law. When my brother Vincent mowed me down and shattered my leg, she called in every favor to clear his record. My father, Tommaso, the most feared private doctor in Sicily, faked my medical files, branding me unstable and delusional, all to mold me into the obedient son they needed. Then there was Lina, only daughter of Don Vitali, my wife. She said, “We let him out for Vincent’s liver. What if he says no?” Dad’s voice went cold. “He has two choices: lie quietly on that operating table… or waste away in the sanatorium for what’s left of his life.” I pushed the parlor door open, steady and slow. My voice was flat. “I’ll do it.” Every one of them let out a breath they’d been holding, showering me with hollow words. They didn’t know there was no life left to threaten. I had twenty-four hours. By sunrise, I would be dead either way. Funny… now that I’m in the ground, why are they all crying?