Raging Bull: My Story

True love never dies....This book My Love Story is a beautiful true love story, full of romance, intrigue, suspense... It reveals the power and the strength of love. When you find love, you feel on top of the world... Find out more in the book

Isabella was born in the mafia, but she wasn’t born of royalty. All she knew was pain and ran away from a life of chaos and destruction before it could kill her. Now, she’s older and a defense attorney living in New York City. All was going well until she received a letter from the one person who has always looked out for her. She was getting married and wanted Isabella to come home and witness her union. Isabella wanted to refuse, but she knew she had to do it. Now that she’s back home, she’s thrusted back into the flames of Mafia life. A certain man has his eyes on her and won’t let her leave. What will happen when Isabella learns that the very man who sets her body ablaze, is a man who runs the same Mafia she’s running from? This is a story about finding love in all the wrong places, and how forgiving the past can open you up to a beautiful future.

Everyone knew I, Isabella Marino, was Vince Moretti's greatest weakness—the one thing the mafia boss would never tolerate being touched. Years ago, when I was kidnapped, Vince disarmed himself at gunpoint, risking death to get me back, even paying his entire fortune for my ransom. To keep me from harm, he walked a razor's edge, navigating danger at every turn. After I got pregnant, he waited on me hand and foot, barely letting my feet touch the ground. There were rumors that he kept a pampered mistress outside—some woman he spoiled rotten. I never believed them. But then she flaunted herself in front of me. To beg for my forgiveness, Vince cut off his own finger. The next day, that woman slapped her pregnancy test results in my face, sneering, "Vince wanted a baby with me so badly, he just couldn't help himself!" I was already frail. The shock and rage sent me into a miscarriage.

Valeria Romano was nineteen when her father was murdered. For five years she trained, sacrificed and bled ... building her entire life around one name. Lorenzo De Luca. The mafia king she believed gave the order. When she finally gets her shot at him, he doesn't run. He sits her down and shows her a photograph. The man responsible for her father's death was never Lorenzo. It was her uncle Marco. The man who handed her the wrong name the morning after the murder and watched her chase the wrong target for five years while he rebuilt his empire on her father's grave. Lorenzo proposes a contract marriage ... a strategic alliance that puts them both inside striking distance of Marco before he buries the truth permanently. Valeria agrees. Not because she trusts him. Because Marco Romano just became her real target. What follows is a race against a closing window. Spies inside the estate. A bought witness. A dead man who turns out to be very much alive. Two people who came together as enemies slowly building something neither of them has a name for. And a summit where Valeria must stand before the five ruling families with five years of truth ... and finally make it count. Marco goes to a cell. The war ends. But war leaves marks. The real question driving this story is never whether Valeria can destroy the man who killed her father. It is whether she can survive who she became in the process ... and whether the man she married to win a war is the same man worth staying for when it is over. Some revenge stories end with justice. This one is just getting started.

My best friend breaks down and accuses me of skimming family shipments, which cost us billions. Without hesitation, my fiance, Don Scarpa Falcone, points a gun at me. The bullet grazes my ear. He sends me to prison himself, then gets engaged to my best friend instead. Before I'm taken away, the family butler begs him, "You raised her yourself. She's your fiancee. You can't just ruin her life like this!" "Break the rules, and pay in blood," he says, polishing his gun. "As for her future, I'll decide that later." Five years later, I walk out of prison. The entire Falcone family is waiting at the gate with him, as if my freedom were a handout. "Looks like you've learned your lesson. It's time to return and get back to work. Don't do anything stupid again," he says. I ignore him and walk straight to the stretch Lincoln behind him. The door opens. Chris Corleone, the king of the Aurelian underworld, raises his glass to me. "Welcome back, partner."

For four years I was his secretary, and for four years I warmed his bed. I knew everything, from his family business to the secrets he whispered to me at night. But to him, I was nothing more than a toy he could summon whenever he pleased. The moment his first love, Sofia Costa, flew back into the country, he humiliated me without a second thought. He kissed her in a Sicilian church, abandoned me on a rain-soaked road with a gash ten inches long on my calf, and later dismissed me with a cold, cutting line. He said I was someone unimportant, someone he could simply ignore. She waved the tulip plush he'd given her in front of me. "I'm the only one he loves. You were just a stand-in." While I rebuilt my life in Chicago and finally found some peace, this ruthless Mafia don knelt outside my door, eyes red with emotion. "Elena, come back to me." I kicked his hand away with a smile. "Your so-called devotion disgusts me."