Dominic Moretti Novels & Stories

“But it seems to me that she is carrying an Alpha blood.” “You…” “Alpha Dante D’Angelo, my mate, Valerie Morozov.” He said, looking down at me. “Put the knife down, Valerie. You are going to end up hurting more than just yourself with these stupid reflexes that you’re having…”

As if I were a pawn he’d already moved three steps ahead on the board. I clenched my jaw and sank onto the edge of the couch, my bare feet curling against the cold floor. I hated that I could still feel his presence on my skin—his breath, his gaze, the space between us charged like a live wire that neither of us dared cut. Dominic Moretti wasn’t a man. He was a force. A storm that came without warning and destroyed whatever careful structure you’d built for yourself. And now, he had my secrets. He had me.

After so many days, i have finally learnt to walk normally after his Hardcore sex. Before he comes out I quickly washed myself and wore my dress. I grabbed my purse and Ran downstairs and finally out of the mansion. This house will always haunt me, this is not house it's a hell for me and That man is Lucifer. Dominick Moretti, Italian mob boss. I hate working for him but at the same time I am proud of myself that I am knowledgeable enough to work with him. I am his personal accountant. I manage his accounts. And this is what keeping me and my father alive.

"Alessia?" Dominic Salvi was the Moretti family's lead attorney, though my father still called him our adviser. In old mafia movies, men like him were called consiglieri. In modern Manhattan, Dominic had three law firms, two merger teams, and a business card that could make a judge arrive ten minutes early. "Uncle Dominic, I need a few things handled." "Who was dumb enough to irritate you?" "Someone stole my membership card, tried to take over my clients, and seems to think my office building is free housing."

“I’m just a simple citizen of Auckland. It’s my duty to reveal the truth about a mayoral candidate. The world deserves to know that if he can fake something as sacred as love... just to look clean...” Dominic’s hands tightened beneath the table. “He’s a suitable candidate.” She raised an eyebrow. “So what will you do about my decision?” Silence hung between them. The waiter stepped toward their table but immediately backed away when Dominic’s stare cut across the room like a blade. He slowly reached for his sunglasses, sliding them on. “I’ve heard enough.” Without another word, he stood and walked away — calm, composed. But beneath that exterior, a fire raged.

If you've finished reading this book & want to know what happened next, you can find the second book in this series as Dominant Hybrid (Dominant Series#2) by ktish7 on D****e App. Find me here: F*: f b . c o m / k t i s h 7 I*******m: @ authorkrystalwatt Patreon: p a t r e o n . c o m / k t i s h 7 Hearts & flowers! Thank you!

Alpha Damien, the great and prestigious Alpha of the red moon pack and one of the strongest, leading billionaires and businessmen of all time, stood right at the door of the kitchen, from which Courtney had just left. His cold gaze, glazed against the body of that woman and in comprehensive pain followed by rage, overwhelmed him. He wanted to just shred her into pieces. Ariel immediately cringed, knowing absolutely what it felt like to be close to him. It was like death, the hand of death clutching her, clawing at her and choking her. But, instead of it taking her, it toiled with her.

And then I saw him… He stood by the window, shirtless, glass of bourbon in hand, watching the skyline like a god surveying his domain. And he didn’t even flinch when he spoke. “You’re late.” I froze. Did he know that I was coming? My finger tightened on the trigger. “Turn around.” He did. Slowly. Like he had all the time in the world. My heart raced. Damian Moretti wasn’t just beautiful. He was unholy. His black hair was a mess, it seemed deliberately disheveled. Ink wound down his arms in brutal, elegant patterns, muscles shifting beneath them like coiled wire. A scar slashed across his collarbone and his eyes were like storm clouds, cold, unreadable, and dangerous.

"Jesus Christ, Brielle." "What?" I turned to him, noting how his hands still trembled slightly against the table. Why was that happening? "You need to be careful." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper despite the noise around us. "I'm serious. The Moretti family is dangerous. Like, actually dangerous. Not just rich and powerful dangerous, but..." He trailed off, his jaw working like he was physically forcing himself not to say more. "But what?" "Weird," he finally said, though something in his eyes told me that wasn't the word he'd originally intended to use. "They're weird and they don't mess around. If a Moretti sets his sights on something, he gets it. No matter

I was here to fight for survival. And then I saw him. Damiano Moretti. The moment our eyes met, I felt the air shift, thick and electric. He was taller than I remembered from the few news clips and rumors I’d seen, dark suit, darker eyes, a predator calm in every movement. My pulse spiked. I’d heard stories: ruthless, untouchable, untamed. And here he was, leaning casually against a balcony railing, scanning the room with a gaze that could strip you bare without touching you.