Bound To My Mafia Stepuncles Novels & Stories

“If he doesn’t want me, then anyone who does want me… won’t have me either.” There’s a pause. Then Stephanie exhales slowly. “Damn… that’s… kind of sad,” she says. “I’m not sad,” I snap quickly. She raises her hands slightly in surrender. “Okay, okay.” But then….her eyes light up again. “Still…” she leans in slightly, lowering her voice like she’s about to share a secret, “he said he’s from a Mafia family.” I stiffen slightly. “And?” I say carefully. “And he’s the heir,” she adds, her voice practically glowing with excitement. “Marcella, do you understand what that means?”

He asked and somehow I knew his obvious panic wasn’t just because I had slept with another man. “You know him?” I had to ask. “Brielle,” Finn said, sounding like his soul had left his body. “That’s Dante Moretti.” He exclaimed, like he was someone I was supposed to recognize but I failed to. “Am I supposed to know him?” I just had to ask again. “You should,” Cassandra breathed. “Everyone knows who the Morettis are.” “Can someone just tell me what is happening?! Who are the fucking Morettis?” “They’re mafia,” Finn whispered, not even bothering to hide his panic. “They run half the damn city, Bri.” My blood turned to ice that instant. What the heck have I gotten myself into?

"Tell him I cannot walk!" I froze on the spot. Oh, no. No, no, no. Why on earth was I being dragged into this elderly mafia feud? I looked at Chad, who was watching me with a thoroughly amused expression, waiting to see who I'd side with. Then I glanced over at Granny. She smiled sweetly at me, it was the exact kind of smile that promised absolute, painful ruin for anyone who dared to betray her. I swallowed hard. "Chad is lying," I announced cleanly.

Oil portraits watched us from the walls, generations of Blackwoods who had made terrible choices and called it dynasty. "Marcus Hale has three enforcers he operates outside the council's official reach," Kade said, hands on my shoulders, voice low and urgent. "Ghost wolves. They do not appear in any pack records. He has been using them to run operations Vanessa funds and the council ignores because they benefit from the results. I think he is the one who has Milo." "Why?" The word scraped out of me. "Milo is six years old."

I stood on the rooftop, under the moonlight, the wind howling around us— lost in the eyes of my stepson. “How old are you?” His fingers slacked around my jaw and tightened again. “Twenty-nine. Would be thirty in a few weeks. Why?” “Why were men bowing to you instead of your father?” “Pardon?” I met his gaze. “I saw everything. The cars. The men. They bowed to you instead of Androa.” He let go of my face. Then sipped his drink and stepped away, his shoes clicking on the floor. It felt like my senses snapped back.

And I was caught between a past that once comforted me and a present I was still trying to understand. I was bound to the ruthless mafia king. His world had claimed me the moment he first brought me in. Even now, after the motel, after everything, I could not escape the pull of him. The way he looked at me like I was his. The way he sat in my room all night like a shadow that refused to leave. It terrified me how much I was starting to accept that binding. Eventually, I picked up the phone again and typed a short, cautious reply to Enzo.

with Dante. She reached the back stairs that led to the kitchen, but as she rounded the corner, a flashlight beam cut through the dark, pinning her like a moth to a wall. "Going somewhere, Stepmother?" It wasn't Dante. It was Marco. And he didn't look like he was following Lorenzo’s orders anymore. He looked like a man who had been offered a better deal. "The Rossi family sends their regards," Marco whispered, raising his suppressed pistol. "A dead heir is better than a fake one."

They lived under the same roof, tied together by their parents' forced alliance and the syndicate agreements that controlled their lives. “Step-siblings,” Cassian repeated, the words tasting like ash on his tongue. There was something bitter in his tone as he looked down at her. It was as though the words meant nothing to him. He leaned closer, his breath brushing against her trembling lips. “Whatever papers my old man signed with your Madre doesn’t change a damn thing.” The closeness made her panic. She could feel his chest rising and falling beneath her hands, completely unaffected by her attempts to push him away.

Trust me, I didn't mean to hurt you or make you cry. “Let go off me Clinton, you can be with her for all i care” she said and removed hid hands from her waist her and walked upstairs. As soon as he was gone, Mr. and Mrs. Peterson entered with their security behind them. Clinton saw them, and left immediately. The mafia clan Where the hell is my fucking money? The father of the gangster Ace, Mr. Carlo Benaldo, yelled at Mr. Chadwick. He was formerly a mafia member before his life was given to his son.

“First promise me you won’t be scared.” Madeline frowned at his word “That I can’t guarantee especially in this situation.” He chuckled “Okay but I’m giving you precaution in advance so you won’t be shocked.” She nods “I will trust you since my Uncle asks me to believe in you.” “I’m the Mafia King of the Underworld...”