Dark Mafia Romance Novels Novels & Stories

THIS BOOK IS A DARK MAFIA ROMANCE INTENDED FOR MATURE READERS AGED 18 AND ABOVE. IT CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO: Graphic sexual scenes Violence and torture Strong language Drug use Psychological manipulation Mafia-related kinks and themes Depictions of abuse (not inflicted by the male lead)

Libro 2 Mi Corazon te pertenece - Book 2 My Heart will be yours Power & Temptation Mafia Series (Buenovela) (Goodnovel) Libro 1 Mafia Italiana - Book 1 Italian Mafia A****N KINDLE luna indomable spanish version Power & Temptation Mafia Series Book 2 "IVANOV" Russian Mafia Individual stories (Buenovela) (Goodnovel) Luna Indomable - Fearless Luna THANK YOU FOR READING MY BOOKS YOU CAN FOLLOW ME ON MY SOCIAL NETWORKS WITH MY NAME larasoultaker .

The cool midnight air greeted him with the fragrance of roses. He felt the relief instantly, his anxiety dissipating, blown away by the night breeze, leaving only the scent of roses clinging to him like a permanent lover. For a ruthless mafia like him, who’d taken countless lives in the seedy underbelly of Chicago, he couldn’t understand why he found roses to be so comforting. They were such fragile plants, their petals so delicate, like humans whom he could easily crush with his palms. Still, whatever it was, it always did the trick. The scent calmed him down and he relaxed.

King and continued looking at him in his eyes " My girlfriend too whom I love the most." Mr. King raised his eyebrows looking at Ashton. Ashton laughed and said putting his hand on Mr. King shoulder " Dad now don't say that line of yours……… What it was?? " he was thinking and then looked at Ethan and asked " What it was?? " Ethan looked down and said while scratching the back of his neck " Mafia don't have girlfriends. They don't made for dating ". Mr. King walked towards Ethan and put his hand on Ethan shoulder and said " Ashton he also have a girlfriend. Right?? "

And the secrets Adrian left behind were punishable. “Tatiana, let’s go,” Sasha repeated. Another shuddering breath filled my lungs. Black suits slowly drifted away, taking their black hearts with them. The sea of underworld men came to pay respects. Russian. Italian. American. Canadian. Colombian. A sea of black, which I’d always been a part of. No matter how much my brothers sheltered me. My eyes flickered to my brother, seeing him through the fog of grief. It felt like I wasn’t really here. But then I was.

The night just fell making the whole room turned darker as Damon already broke the lamps but the moans of pleasure and growls of satisfaction filled the darkroom with only the proof of a big bad alpha. Damon knight claiming his only precious possession as his. But not as a possession but as his love. His first and last love. Damon fell on her sweaty body as they both ride their pleasure and came to an end. His face was dug deep inside her crook. The effect of drug turned off and his body started to get tired. But his heart still wanted to have her again and again. Moving away he stared at her face as her breathing was calmer than before. She opened her tired eyes and stared in his dark gaze

"Sophia? What is wrong with you? You've been acting so strange lately. Did you happen to finish that university project you told me about last week?" My mind was a chaotic blur. Oh my God. I slept with my mother's high-profile client. I slept with a forty-three-year-old man—someone old enough to be my father! I can't believe this. I slept with the most dangerous mafia boss in the entire country! A man who was literally sitting in my mother's office to get surgery to reduce the massive size of his dick! And I walked right into his life and ruined everything! "...Sophia? Are you listening to me?" my mother was saying, her tone growing impatient.

a deep voice commands. I turn. He walks in like he owns the place. Broad shoulders under a tailored black suit, dark eyes that slice through the chaos. His presence is heavier than the gunfire. Dante Morreti. I know that name. Whispers. Mafia. Blood. Power. The devil of New York. His gaze pins me in place. My chest tightens, breath shallow. “She’s the bride?” he asks, almost amused. “Yes, Boss,” one of his men answers. “Pretty little thing,” Dante murmurs, eyes raking me head to toe. “Shame she belongs to a coward.”

My fingers brushed along the cracked leather as I ran through the lot, stopping at one in particular. It had a jet-black cover. No title. Just the silver crest pressed into the leather, a wolf enveloped by thirteen daggers. I cautiously pulled the book from its place. A cloud of dust billowed up into the air. The weight of it alone reminded me why De Luca only touched this book when no other option remained. I stared at the black cover for a moment. I hated this book. Hated what it represented. The De Lucas of the previous generation ruled in suspicion. Through fear. Through blood. I would never turn into that.

Alessia slid into the plush leather seat, her heart racing. As the car pulled away from the curb, Alessia's mind whirled with conflicting thoughts. What am I doing? she wondered, her fingers nervously smoothing the fabric of her dress. This isn't just some wealthy businessman. This is the Bratva. The Russian mafia. The realization sent a chill down her spine. She'd heard whispers about the Bratva's activities in the city - extortion, drug dealing, even human trafficking. And now she was willingly walking into their world.