A Bride For The Mafia Lord Novels & Stories

Marianne yelled, pointing an accusing finger at Victoria. I stepped in front of my Little Mouse, shielding her from her raging mad sister. “You said it yourself—without leaving any trace back to her. Just like a true Mafia bride should. Take your righteous face out of her sight and go back to your two-faced husband. Because the next time you accuse my wife, a Mafia bride, anywhere, with or without evidence... I'll do worse than erase your very existence,” I gravely warned.

"No way out. You're the mafia bride that trapped in his love." ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

called his mother "Let's leave through the back door!" Luca said nothing.He only turned and left. Eyes followed the muscularly built up body of the Mafia Lord,Luca Genovese. Even though they were earlier agitating,they dare not even utter a sound.They could only watch the bridegroom leave in his Maybach,his bodyguard trailed behind. Back in the vestry... "Mum, let's just go back the same way we came." Leo suggested "I know you've invited your country friends.All you have to do is tell them the bride fell ill"

It was the reason he wasn't imposing it on me, but rather asking for your opinion. The way he dressed up his speech, presenting himself as one saint, I couldn't help but snort in laughter. I don't know who was more desperate— my father, or Lorenzo Russo. "Let me correct your words, Father. You are the one who is desperate for his territory, not we. You already know the answer to that ridiculous bargain. I am not getting married to their daughter. I already have a fianceé, Mia Moretti, in case you are forgetting." I stood up, buttoning my suit jacket.

But not Alexandro. He sat at that table like he owned the room. His father, Marco Campania, was already a legend. Ruthless, strategic, feared across Europe. But it was Alexandro who stole all the attention without saying a word. Even my uncle—the leader of the Leoni—kept glancing at him. There was something magnetic about him. Dangerous. Royal. And absolutely off-limits. You see, Alexandro had sworn never to marry anyone from the mafia. His father had been trying for years to get him to choose a wife. Every time, Alexandro refused. He had one condition: the woman he married had to be innocent. Clean. No knowledge of mafia life. No blood ties. No involvement.

I stammered, pointing at myself. There’s no way they’re letting me marry the enemy for real. It’s already too much that my family’s not paying attention to me despite me trying hard, but now they also want me to marry Lucian Moretti? Heck, no! “Yes, Miss Vale. You heard it right,” Roman replied in a mocking tone. He looked down on me just like everyone else. “You don’t need me to explain the details unless you need me to spell it out for you what it means to be married, yeah?”

She asked while trying to find the answers herself. “Kayla has nothing to do with this.” He grabbed her firmly by the arm. “Your parents didn't tell you that you were getting married to a mafia Lord? This is who I am, Olivia.” He uttered and let go of her hand. Olivia popped her eyes open, she had no idea Aiden was a Mafia member. No one told her. Why? Why did her parents hide that away from her? How did she end up becoming too naive and didn't dig more on the man she was getting married to? All these questions kept roaming inside her head and she felt her body go numb while her legs became weak.

When I made no attempts to move, he forcefully grabbed my arm and hooked it in his. "Non farlo Alessia. Mi metterai in imbarazzo. Metterete in imbarazzo la mafia (Don't do this Alessia. You will embarrass me. You will embarrass the mafia).’ He growled lowly. I don't miss how he wanted to say his mafia. I smiled tensely as I was handed a bouquet of a dozen white roses. | took a moment to appreciate the beauty of my wedding. | wore a beautiful dress and was standing in an idyllic castle. Just as quickly as that image crossed my mind it left.

Bride To Be, Twisted Marriage, and CAGED, these are dark mafia romances! A. Gupta

Was the new Luca just a mask? The kiss they had shared had felt real enough, and the way he had accompanied her to the hospital and doted on her had seemed like a blissful new beginning…The gentle touches, the laughter, the way he had looked at her. All of it now made her want to throw up. He was a vile creature for stooping so low just to lay claim to her and her unborn child. She looked up at the old Mafia painting on the wall, cracked in the frame but still visible…A personal acquisition of her father when he was still alive and happy. He had once told her, “In our world, trust is a currency. Spend it wisely, Isabella.”