Amalfi Coast

The Moretti Family's Thanksgiving party was in full swing downstairs—crystal clinks, fake laughs, classic mafia gloss. Meanwhile, I was curled up in a servant's room on the third floor. Jackson Moretti's wife. Legally, anyway. My hands were ice. I gripped the ultrasound report like it could anchor me. Three heartbeats. Strong, steady. It was supposed to be a surprise—his big Thanksgiving gift. To the outside world, Jackson was a polished Stanford grad, running a top-tier consulting firm in San Francisco. But behind the scenes? He ran the Moretti empire—cold, calculated, pulling strings in the West Coast's darkest corners. Three years of marriage and we barely spoke, but I still clung to the hope that maybe... maybe there was something real left. Then I heard him downstairs. "You really not letting your wife come down?" "Isabella?" He laughed. "She'd kill the vibe." Another voice chimed in. "Lina's back, right? Wild you married her twin. Which one do you actually like?" Jackson didn't miss a beat. "Isabella's just a stand-in. Quiet. Predictable. I could tell her to drop dead and she'd say 'okay.'" "So when are you ditching her?" "Dunno. She thinks she matters. I'm just playing her." I slapped a hand over my mouth to muffle the sob. A minute later, I was heading downstairs, numb. I brushed my fingers over my belly. "Sorry, babies," I whispered. Triplets. His. He thought I was blind. Weak. Stuck. What he didn't know? A quiet woman, once she snaps—she can burn it all down.

Richard Franklin has left his Midwestern roots behind to live on the coast of Maine with his family. But in the autumn of the year 2000, he must return to his Illinois birthplace on a sorrowful journey. His wife Michelle has been killed in New England by a hit-and-run driver who is never found, so back home he comes with her cremated remains, to fulfill a final wish and on her birthday scatter her ashes in the park along the river in Blackwater Valley—simply Blackwater Val to locals—the small town where they both grew up and fell in love. With him he brings his six-year-old daughter Katie who still grieves for her lost mother: Katie, who can sometimes guess who’s going to be on the phone before it rings. Who can stop all the clocks in the house, and break up clouds in the sky with her mind, and heal sicknesses, and who sometimes sees things that aren’t there...people who are no longer alive. All gifts she inherited from her mother. Only something isn’t quite right in the Val. Sinkholes are opening up, revealing the plague pits the sleepy hamlet was built over in the 1830s, when malaria and cholera outbreaks ran riot. Mysterious bird and fish die-offs begin to occur, and Katie can see ghosts of the dead gathering all around. But what she can’t see is the charred, centuries-old malevolence which has been waiting for her, and wants her for its very own. Or the pale Sallow Man who haunts the town’s nighttime streets...or the river witch—another Blackwater Val, of sorts—each of whom will be drawn one by one into the nightmarish bloodletting about to take place. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

Mumbai. The city of dreams. Shining bright with impressive skyscrapers, glamorous filmstars, and glittering malls. Standing tall on the shimmering coast of the Arabian Sea. Everywhere Sun hits here, this city dazzles. But beneath this warm dazzle, there is another Mumbai. The cold Mumbai. The dark Mumbai. The stronghold of the mafia. Where narrow alleys are splattered with gun-powder and blood. Where lives are discarded like tissue papers. Where an obscene amount of money circulates unaudited. And since years now, this formidable underworld is under Lala Amarnath Vaghela's thumb. The powerful mafia kingpin who started his ascent from the slums of Dharavi years back, today he controls most of the Indian subcontinent's illegal dealings and organized crime with an iron fist. But not without help. Kunal Ranjan Vaghela. Lalaji's grandson and his heir apparent. Apple of his grandfather's eyes, he is calculative, sly, and cold-blooded. Samar Jagtap. Lalaji's ruthless and cunning protege. Indispensable, he is as unapologetic as they come in this business. Everything is working smoothly in Lalaji's world. Like a well-oiled machine. Or is it? Because apart from sharing Lalaji's trust, apparently these two capable young men also share an undisguised hatred for each other. Not above playing dirty in this high-stakes arena, both are merely bidding their time to tear one another down. But no matter who emerges the winner out of the two, there is someone who will only lose. A torn heart that refuses to take sides. A girl who dared to love them both. Stubborn and loyal-to-a-fault Maahi. Full name Maahi Ranjan Vaghela. Kunal Vaghela's beloved baby sister. And the beautiful confusion of Samar Jagtap's life.

Vincenzo Moretti was Stonehaven’s youngest financial titan— a tech mogul commanding a multibillion-dollar empire, gracing the covers of business magazines as a modern legend. But only a select few knew the truth: he was also the ruthless Don controlling the East Coast mafia. To him, wealth and power were mere chips in a game. And I? I was just another pawn used to stabilize a fragile family alliance. In our ten-year marriage, he slept with my friends, my coworkers… every single person I once trusted. Then one morning, as I took our one-month-old baby for a routine checkup, Sienna Newton, his latest mistress, ran me down with her car. The baby screamed endlessly. I begged her to take us to the hospital, and when Vincenzo arrived, he looked at me with cold disdain. “Isabella,” he sneered, “when did you learn to stage accidents? “Even if you died here, I wouldn’t bat an eye.” Then he took Sienna’s hand and walked away without a backward glance. By the time I was rushed to the hospital, the child in my arms had suffocated. Upon hearing the news, my mother suffered a heart attack. She didn’t survive. I slipped into a coma for two days. When I finally woke up, I found out that Vincenzo never visited. Instead, his father, Renato Moretti, the true king of the Moretti empire, stood by my bedside. I looked at him calmly and said, “Let me go. Whatever I owed your family, I’ve repaid in full with two lives.” Later, that same Don who had once looked down on me knelt before me, begging me to come home. But I was no longer the woman who waited, silent and broken, for his change of heart. I was the Don’s wife who turned away and never looked back.

Zara Castellano doesn’t cry. She doesn’t beg. She doesn’t love. As the only daughter of the most feared mafia family on the East Coast, Zara was raised to command armies and slit throats in silence. At twenty-three, she’s spoiled, dangerous, and untouchable. Men want her. Enemies fear her. And everyone obeys her. Everyone… except Lucien Blake. A self-made billionaire with no allegiance to blood or bullets, Lucien becomes the pawn in a deadly marriage contract—one that ties him to a woman he’s never met but already loathes. Zara doesn’t want a husband. She wants a pet. A toy. A man she can dominate. Lucien isn’t used to bowing. But this time, saying “no” means death. Thrown into a marriage forged by blood and greed, the two clash like fire and ice. Zara pushes. Lucien resists. But behind every fight is a heat they can’t escape—and a twisted attraction that might just destroy them both. Zara doesn’t believe in love. She believes in control. And now, she owns a man who refuses to break. “You don’t have to love me, Lucien. You just have to kneel when I say so.” NOTE: If you’ve read my other books, you know my women bite back and my men bleed beautifully for them. Married to a Monster flips the classic dark romance—this time, the monster wears red lipstick and diamond stilettos. Expect power games, obsession, hate that turns to heat, and a heroine you’ll love to fear. This story contains dominance, manipulation, dark secrets, and psychological warfare—but always consensual. Trigger Warnings: Violence, dark themes, emotional manipulation, power imbalance, sexual tension, sex, obsession. Tags: Mafia Princess, Billionaire Husband, Enemies to Lovers, Forced Marriage, Dominant Heroine, Dark Romance, Power Couple.

Five days before my wedding, a group of MadeMen drag me to an underground casino. "I'm the fiancé of Lorenzo Gambino, Don of the Gambino family and Gambino Corporation! Think of the consequences you'll face if you dare touch a hair on my head!" My stern warning is met by mocking laughter. I curl up in agony under the brutal blows of their baseball bats; they pierce my ankles with sharp blades, severing my tendons. I gather the remnants of my consciousness to shield my abdomen, where my and Lorenzo's child grows. Lorenzo finally arrives with hired mercenaries. He razes the underground casino to the ground and saves me. I lie on the hospital bed and force myself to hang on. I don't want to end up in a coma. Unexpectedly, I overhear Lorenzo's conversation with a doctor. "It's not too late to operate, Boss. If we delay this any longer, Ms. Jones won't be able to stand anymore! There are many other ways for you to marry Ms. Valente—why did you have to do this to Ms. Jones?" "Being crippled is the only way Renee will obediently accept my and Kelly's child. I can keep a cripple by my side but not a troublemaker. Kelly values ceremony more than anything—I promised her I would give her a perfect wedding," Lorenzo says coldly. "But… Ms. Jones is pregnant. She's four months along…" "Make her miscarry, then." Tears stream down my face without anyone noticing. It turns out no one wants to bless the wedding I've been looking forward to. If so, any woman who wants to be Lorenzo's wife can have him. He's just a small mafia boss, anyway. I'm going back to being the heiress of the East Coast mafia's Don. I'll be the queen of my own life.

At nine months pregnant, I was in the final stretch of my term, and my body heavy with a baby due any day. But my husband, Vito Falcone, underboss of the family, had locked me away. He held me in a sterile underground medical room and injected me with a labor suppressant. As I screamed in agony, he coldly told me to endure it. Because his brother's widow, Scarlett, was expected to go into labor at the exact same time. A blood oath he'd made with his late brother declared that the firstborn son would inherit the family's lucrative West Coast territory. "That inheritance belongs to Scarlett's child," he said. "With Daemon gone, she is utterly alone and destitute. You have my love, Alessia. All of it. I just need her to deliver safely. Then it's your turn." The drug was a constant, agonizing torment. I begged him to take me to a hospital. He grabbed me by the throat, forcing me to meet his icy gaze. "Stop the act! I know you're fine. You’re just trying to steal the inheritance." "To get ahead of Scarlett, you'll stop at nothing." My face was ashen. My body convulsed as I managed a desperate whisper. "The baby's coming. I don't care about the inheritance. I just love you, and I want our child to be born safely!" He sneered. "If you were really that innocent, if you had an ounce of love for me, you wouldn't have forced Scarlett to sign that prenup, waiving her child's inheritance rights." "Don't worry, I'll be back for you after she's given birth. you're carrying my own flesh and blood, after all." He kept a vigil outside Scarlett's delivery room all night. It was only after seeing the newborn in her arms that he remembered me. He finally sent his second in command, Marco, to release me. But when Marco finally called, his voice was shaking. "Boss... the missus and the baby... they're gone." In that moment, Vito Falcone shattered.