Big Chicas Don't Cry นิยาย & เรื่องราว

She is his passion, desire and his obsession. Luciano Greco, a formidable mafia boss has one goal in mind: making Jade Peterson his wife. And not even the forces above can stand in his way. * * * |Strong female lead, Dominating Male Lead, Obsession, Crime, Love and Lust| Luciano Greco, the ruthless crime boss of the Italian-American mafia has been betrothed to Jade Peterson but his would be wife is not as submissive as he imagined her to be. Infact, she is the opposite of everything; she is fierce, bold, outspoken, and impulsive. But still it does not deny the fact that he is pulled to this impulsive and cunning woman no matter how hard he tries to mask it. She has him on his knees but he is unwillingly to admit it. He is addicted and she is his drug. He is a sinner and she is his greatest sin. He needs to claim her for himself and tame the fiery spirit in her. From an arranged marraige which sets off a chain of events that tends to tear them further apart, will they both be willing to let down their guard and confess their love amidst the chaos? Will she let him claim her soul the way he yearns to claim her body as his?

I married Don Alessandro in secret. The Five Families of Chicago had ruled for generations. And I had married into the most powerful of them. For four years, Alessandro made me promises. One hundred and twelve times. And one hundred and twelve times, he left me standing alone. The first time, his ex‑girlfriend’s father had a heart attack. Alessandro canceled the wedding and stayed with her for three full weeks. The second time, she crashed her Maserati into a fountain in Monaco. Drunk. He flew there overnight and paid off the police chief personally. Every time, right before our wedding, she manufactured another crisis. I begged. I screamed. I put a knife to my own wrist. Alessandro just laughed, pulled the blade from my hand, and fucked me against the nearest wall. “She’s my ex‑girlfriend. You’re my wife. You don't need to be jealous of her.” After the one hundred and twelfth time, I stopped feeling anything. I pushed a piece of agreement in front of him.“Our marriage. Our alliance. Consider it terminated.”

I loved Adriano Ferraro—yeah, that Don—for five freaking years. He wasn't just my fiancé; he was my anchor in a world where loyalty got tested, and weakness got you killed. We had it all mapped out—dreams, plans, a future we actually thought we owned. Until I lost our baby. I reached for him, shaking, desperate for anything. But comfort never came. Instead, it was her. His stepsister, propped up. "Don't buy her act. She's just fishing for attention—again." That snake smiled like she just won a prize for emotional torture, dripping venom while fanning the flames. And Adriano? He bought it. He turned away. In that moment, it hit me—I wasn't just grieving. I was completely alone. The kid I carried, the future I built in my head? Gone. And so was I. I walked out. On him. On the Ferraro Family I was stupid enough to think I could belong to. All I left behind was silence. Empty space where we used to be. Now Adriano's drowning in regret, but it's too damn late. The life we should've had, the love we should've built? Dust. And her? The stepsister who ruined it all? She's paying for every lie.

"Crawl to me, Amber... Let me feel how tight that virgin cunt is. Prove your father didn’t lie.” "Make me do it... You blind bastard!" He doesn’t see the world. He owns it. Zeden Vercetti is a blind mafia don feared across continents—ruthless, unyielding, and lethal with or without his sight. Once a husband. Still a father. But love? That died with his wife. Now his world revolves around power, blood, and pleasure... on his terms. When Amber’s father trades her off to clear a dirty debt, she finds herself trapped in a nightmare—a palace of wolves ruled by the most dangerous one of all. Zeden doesn’t want a bride. He wants obedience. He wants her mouth screaming, her legs spread, her pride shattered. She thought she’d be his wife. He says she’s just a fucktoy. A virgin to break. A slut to train. But Amber isn't built to bend. And Zeden has never met a girl who fights back, tempts him, confuses him... and maybe awakens the parts of him he swore were dead. In a mansion filled with guns, secrets, and scars that don’t fade, one virgin girl is about to face the beast. And Zeden? He’ll make her crawl. Will she survive the dark kingdom of the Vercettis—or will she become the fire that ruins him? Viewer Discretion Advised 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🔞🔞 ☠️This book contains intense, dark themes: Dominance & submissionVirgin training, rough sex, threesomes, and BDSM Raw, explicit, and unfiltered sexual content Violence, trauma, emotional manipulation. 10% plot. 90% sex. And Sin. A possessive blind mafia don with a broken past and a dangerous heart. Read at your own risk. Not for the faint-hearted. Not for the soft. If you dare enter Zeden Vercetti’s world… be ready to bleed.

Lucy was sold to Antonio Martinelli, the former boss of the biggest Italian mafia when she was 14 years old. After spending years in the "safe house," Lucy is delivered to his son Luca Martinelli, the new leader, as a birthday gift. Luca fights the urge to fall in love with the ebony beauty as Lucy attempts to keep a promise she made and regain her former self. Will they endure all the deceit, lust, murder, and betrayal committed in the name of love together?

The day the Thorne family announced our engagement, the New York underworld let out a collective sigh of relief. Because I was set to marry Daemon, the most straitlaced Don in the city, which meant I could no longer be the wild rose who tore up the racetrack. But I resisted with every fiber of my being, finding creative ways to test his limits. During his ten-million-dollar card game with a rival family's Capo, my hand "slipped" and sent a bottle of 1945 Romanee-Conti spilling across the ancient map that outlined their territories, sabotaging the entire negotiation. Daemon, however, just slowly and deliberately wiped the wine from the back of his hand. He didn't even frown as he cleaned up my mess. Then I "accidentally" let my spirited Arabian stallion loose in his immaculately manicured courtyard. The beast went wild, trampling his prize-winning rose garden into mud. But he arrived with his private doctor in tow, crouching before me as his long fingers gently traced the scratch on my arm. "Did the beast hurt you?" Just that one question, and my heart melted completely. "Daemon, I can marry you. But before that, has there ever been another woman who owned your heart?" "I don't share my man. Not in any way." He pointed to his heart, his gaze unwavering as he met my eyes. "Before you, this was empty." After we married, the word on the street in New York's circles of power was this: If you angered Don Thorne, his Donna might plead your case. But if you angered the Donna, you were on your own. Even I began to believe that Daemon, that mountain of ice, would eventually melt for me. Until the day I went to find him, clutching a positive pregnancy test, bursting with joy. Only to hear the family's Consigliere ask him, from the top-floor study, what the best lie he'd ever told was. Daemon chuckled and said casually, "She asked me if anyone had my heart before her." "I told her no."

I’m the princess of the Hillrose Family. He’s Blair Falcone, Don of the Falcone Family. A perfect match. We were New York's power couple, the envy of everyone in the underworld. Until three days before our wedding. One minute, we were lost in each other, his body moving inside me, his lips trailing fire across my skin. The next, he calmly announces, "Flora, there's something I have to tell you." "Legally, I already have a wife. The old man married me off to her six years ago. She's the daughter of a man who took a bullet for him." "If you can live with it," he continued, "our marriage is still on. As planned." I stared at him in disbelief. "What about me? What were our six years?" He took a slow drag from his cigar. "I know what this is. So, what's it gonna be?" My hand instinctively went to my stomach. He didn't know. I was going to tell him my happy secret tonight: I was pregnant. But now, I wasn't going to tell him a damn thing.

I saved my husband, Raffaello, the Don of the mafia, from the hands of a rival family. In return, he forced me to kneel before his childhood sweetheart, Sofia, and bark like a dog just to cheer her up. Our son, Lorenzo, wandered into the family's chemical plant out of childish curiosity, so I dragged him out with my own hands. Only for him to look me in the eye and said that I wasn't worthy of being his mother. What my husband didn't know was that when the assassins came for him, I had deliberately drew them away, letting them capture me instead. They had injected a virus into body, which burned my throat and destroyed my voice forever. What my son didn't know either was that inside the chemical plant where I rescued him, I had inhaled an overwhelming amount of toxic powder, which later caused me to have severe asthma. That night, when my asthma flared up and my lungs began to fail, I used what little strength I had left to call my husband. He impatiently rebuked me, "Grace, stop bothering me for once. A person who is really dying wouldn't make such a scene. Don't think that I don't know that you're just jealous, trying to compete with Sofia for my attention." I collapsed into the snow, greedily gasping for the final breath of air. Then, everything went still. Later, Raffaello, who never loved me lost his mind. He injected the same virus over and over again into his body, just to feel the pain I once endured. Lorenzo, who refused to acknowledge me, attempted suicide repeatedly, begging fate to trade his life for mine. But, sadly, by then, I no longer loved them.

In the sixth year after helping Blake secure his position as Don, I was both his wife and his sharpest blade. Until the day of our daughter's birthday– She was hit by a car arranged by his enemies. As her life hung by a thread, I called him dozens of times. He never answered. However, I heard that he was at a casino, spending lavishly with his first love. In that moment, whatever I felt for Blake died completely. So when he finally returned, carrying the scent of another woman, I pretended not to notice. Blake frowned and tried to explain, "Victoria is still young. The casino isn't safe. I had no choice but to stay with her." I said nothing. I only nodded. However, he suddenly flew into a rage, grabbing me by the throat, his gaze dark. "Helena, our daughter is hurt – do you think I don't care? Do you have to keep this attitude? "And it's just a minor injury. You're the Don's wife. Be more composed. Don't let your jealousy toward Victoria go too far." I let out a cold laugh. He did not know–our daughter was already gone. And neither he nor this family needed to exist in my life anymore.

The wedding had been postponed ninety-nine times. I called the wedding planner and told them to change the bride's name to Ivy Sterling, Charles Hart's childhood sweetheart. "Donna, are you sure?" the planner asked cautiously. "This time, the Don didn't postpone again." I heard the surprise in his voice. My answer was calm. "Yes. Change it to Ivy Sterling." From the very beginning, Charles gave only one instruction for the wedding: "Adjust the decorations according to Ivy's taste." He explained that Ivy had good taste, that she would only serve as a reference for our wedding. But every choice, the flowers, the favors, the entrance music, was made by Ivy. Even my wedding dress. She had said lightly, "A mermaid silhouette suits her better." So I decided to give the entire wedding, steeped in her presence, to them. And I walked away from this farce completely. From now on, let him keep his old dreams. I will go and enjoy my own boundless sky.