Romances Online de Mafia sobre First-Person POV e Histórias com Arrogant e Twisted

Elara Voss has lived her life in the frame of a fire that stole everything—her family, and her home. Raised by the loyal butler who saved her, she sharpened her instincts, learned to survive, and waited. She never forgot the red-and-gold masks that destroyed her world, nor the hands that left her orphaned. Now, a seemingly ordinary job at a sprawling estate brings her face-to-face with Lucian Raye, the fragile yet commanding heir of the very empire tied to her past. The deeper Elara digs, the clearer the truth becomes. With every revelation, In the family filled with lies-- yet spark and loyalty tested, Elara rises as the Phoenix—beautiful, deadly, and unstoppable. The mafia empire that wronged her will never be the same.

Arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, Mafia/cartel romance As the only daughter of the Kansas City capo, at eighteen years of age, I was given to the son of my father’s consigliere, a man who was expected to accomplish great things for the famiglia. Things didn’t go the way we planned. There wasn’t love. My husband was a traitor, taking part in a coup against the famiglia. He’s now dead. I’m free. Until the fateful night my brother, our new capo, informs me that I’ve once again been promised in marriage. He explains that as a childless widow and the daughter of the late capo dei capi, I am desired. Requested. Aléjandro Roríguez is the son of the leader of the Roríguez cartel. My brother married a woman from the cartel, securing the Mafia/cartel alliance. He says that it’s now my turn. I’ve only met my future husband a few times, but I know without a doubt that I don’t like him. Loving him is impossible. I’ve lived in a marriage without love. I won’t do it again. Aléjandro lives a dangerous existence. Death saved me once before. Maybe it will again. Have you been Aleatha’d?

At the altar, I said no loud enough for the whole church to hear. The priest kept going. Dimitri Volkov didn’t blink. That was fact one: I was married without consent in Chicago, to a man who accepted silence as agreement. The morning was cold and I was currency. My father handed me to Dimitri Volkov—Bratva—like a contract clause. Not a daughter. A term to be signed. I left him later. Not in rage. In clarity—after I saw another girl caught in his world with no choice, just like me. Then I went to war. Law school had taught me precision, so I used it. Civil suits. Asset forfeiture. Anonymous tips to the right agencies. I took apart everything legitimate he’d built, piece by piece, until he bled territories and pride. He showed up bruised once, signed over forty percent of his clean empire to my name, brought therapy receipts. That was fact two: I dismantled the man who caged me, on paper, without firing a shot. I still have the necklace. The one he left in my lap that first night. I wore it through the worst, through the year I rebuilt alone, through every hearing. Last month I was pregnant in a courtroom, arguing a case I won. He was in the gallery. The diamonds sat above my collar. No one asked. I never explained. That was fact three: I took something from that night and made it mine. It doesn’t belong to him anymore. It doesn’t belong to what he did. It belongs to me.

“You want soft?” Marco’s voice whispered against my ears. I tried to keep my breathing steady, but the way he leaned over me…one hand braced on the wall, made it impossible. “I’m not soft, Cassandra. I’m not the kind of man who lights candles and whispers pretty lies in bed.” He leaned in, our lips inches apart “Listen to me, dolcezza, I f***. I dominate. I tie your hands, your legs and make you forget your own name.” I pressed my lips tightly, refusing to give him the satisfaction that only his words was messing with my head, “You don’t scare me, Marco.” His hands wrapped around my throat..not to hurt. Just enough to remind me I was his to command. “No, but I do something worse.” His lips brushed my ear. “I make you beg.” I hated him. I hated the way my p**** ached for his touch. I hated my body for betraying me for wanting him. “Say it,” he whispered. “Tell me who you belong to.” “I don’t belong to anyone.” He shoved my legs apart roughly, plunging two mighty fingers inside me, “Then why is your p**** soaked, bella? Hmm? Tell me do you want my c*** or my collar?” I swallowed hard, “Both.” Marco smiled. “Then be a good girl for daddy. Kneel!” **** SEQUEL TO FORCED TO BE THE BILLIONAIRE’S SURROGATE CASSANDRA’S STORY She was sold to the ruthless mafia don to bear an her for his cold, gay son. But she finds herself caught in a dangerous web of forbidden desire. But the real danger isn’t her supposed fiancee—it’s Don Marco, her ruthless father-in-law. It begins with whispered temptations and stolen glances, then escalates into late-night visits and nights of forbidden passion.

Ailani Hart works as an architect for Skyframe Consortium, a small firm under Dominion Industries, owned by the most feared man in all of Denburg. With complications with her grandmother's health and medical debt from insurance, she is forced to take up a project from a dangerous man that would turn her whole life into different shades of black. With each shade less prettier than the last. Dominion Industries is sketchy; Ailani knows this. What she doesn't know is that the CEO of the company she works for is the leader of the Denburg Mafia. But the real question is… Will she find out who he is? And even if she did, is she ready to rub shoulders with the King of the criminal world?