Don't Tell Mom Noah Novels & Stories

“Spread those thighs, little one.” His voice was a low growl as his hand closed around her hips. “Y-yes, Daddy,” she gasped, trembling as he dragged her down to his mouth. “Mmmhh… Daddy’s good girl,” he muttered darkly against her slick heat. “From this moment, your body, your screams, your soul—belong to me.” **************************************** He bought her with blood money. He keeps her with chains and silk. She swears she’ll never bend, but in his world of shadows and sin, defiance only feeds his hunger. In Naples, he’s “Il Diavolo”—the devil every man fears. To her, he’s the ruthless savior who dragged her from an auction block straight into hell. And hell has never felt so addictive. Claimed by the Don is a dark mafia romance laced with filthy dominance, dangerous obsession, and a love story sharp enough to cut.

There's this thing that my mom keeps repeating to me. "I love my children equally. I will always treat you and Brielle the same." It's true that I get everything my sister, Brielle Montgomery, has since we were children. If Brielle has a new backpack, I do too. If Brielle goes for piano lessons, I'll be given the opportunity to attend the same lessons. When I go home for the holidays, my mom digs out two beautiful shopping bags sporting luxury brand logos. With a smile on her face, she hands them to us. "I specifically went to the store to buy you nice coats. Both of you get a coat each. I'll have you know that coats with wool linings are worth thousands of dollars. I don't even have the heart to wear one of these coats. I only bought these coats for you two." As I gaze at the expensive-looking coat, I feel warmth surging into my heart. But when I try on the coat, I feel a weird, scratchy sensation coming from my armpits. After flipping the coat inside out, I notice a few strands of long, dry hair tightly entangled among the seams. I even smell a faint trace of mold mixed with a strong hint of rot that can't be covered up by the cheap fragrance on the coat.

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.

Don Fiorenzo Ricci saved me and brought me home, raising me for seven years. During the day, he was refined and restrained, treating me the way a true father would. At night, he was endlessly inventive, making me his and his alone. I drowned myself in this twisted love, naively believing I was the only one for Fiorenzo. Then he turned around and married another woman, made her the Madre of the mafia family, and forced me to watch them together. I was done being a piece in their twisted games. The first time I ran, he nearly killed the maid who helped me. The second time I ran, he shot the gardener dead on the spot. The third time, and the last, I jumped into the ocean right in front of him. I did it all for freedom, even if it was only the freedom of my soul after death.

An impulsive murder of the next Tzar landed the Russian Mafia Princess, Dinara Anya Isyanov in the States as a fugitive. The perfect plan was to flee to a safer secluded area but the night she was to be shipped, she was kidnapped. Her Kidnapper insisted that she was their daughter, Serena White, who happens to be her doppelganger! With the shipment off-shore and Dinara on the shore; she decided an identity theft was in order. But as if she wasn't in jeopardy enough Serena White was engaged to the Italian Mafia's heir who was an arch-enemy of the Russian Mafia!

“Did you think you could run from me, doll? Or is this just your way of testing me?" After being abandoned by her family, being sold by her godmother was the last thing Iris Paulman expected. Raised in a church in a small town, Iris’s world was one filled with faith and innocence. But when her godmother put her up for sale to clear her pending debt, Irish life takes a drastic turn. What happens when ruthless mafia lord Damon Vyon decides to buy her?

Angelo Armani never wanted the Mafia life. But when his older brother is brutally murdered, the blood oath of vengeance binds him tighter than family ever did. His hunt leads him to Aurora Cruz the beautiful, defiant daughter of the man who ended Dante’s life. But when the moment of revenge comes, Angelo does the unthinkable. He spares her. Claims her. Keeps her. As Aurora becomes a prisoner in his world of violence, power, and betrayal, she discovers that the man who destroyed her life might be the only one who can save it. But in the Armani world, love is a weapon and mercy is the deadliest sin.

Everyone said my good looks were what saved me from my family's downfall. It was how I managed to become a Donna. I was the only one who knew why he had to compromise to marry me. Xavier Whitmore, the tall and handsome Don, was unable to have physical relationships with a woman. When I shyly took off the gown on our wedding night, he sat in his chair and lit a cigarette before remarking in an icy voice, "I'm allergic to women. That said, you have my word that you will be the only woman in my life." He kept his promise. Though he never so much as touched me in the five years of our marriage, he provided me with a life of luxury and wealth. Although it was merely a title, being his only woman brought me happiness. Everything changed on the day my men and I were ambushed by a rival mafia family. We barely made it out alive. When I returned home, I found him locked in a tight embrace with his widowed sister-in-law, Alice Ortega. "Alice, I won't let you remarry. If you do, I'll make sure that man dies a thousand deaths." I scoffed. It wasn't so much that he couldn't handle being physical with a woman. It was simply that he could not be physical with anyone but her. In that case, she could have the pleasure of being the Donna.

I met him in a place no sane woman should ever be in Blackgate Prison. As a prison therapist, I was trained to see danger. Every part of me screamed to stay away, but I couldn’t. He was a legend behind bars, Nikolai Sokolov, ruthless, untouchable, the leader of one of Russia’s most feared Mafia syndicates. Darkness clung to him like a second skin. The dim light carved his face into something sharp and dangerous. He looked at me, cold and unreadable, and held me in place with his gaze. “Who are you?” His voice was rough, heavy with threats and scars I couldn’t see. I forced a smile, trying to keep my voice steady. And yet… a part of me felt at home in this danger, a shadow inside I had never admitted, one that hummed quietly at his presence. It was darkness like his, though he couldn’t know it. “I’m Dr. Korovin. I’m here to evaluate you.” The chains rattled as he shifted, a predator testing the limits of his cage. His lips curved, not into a smile, but into a warning. “My name is Nikolai,” he said slowly, deliberately, heavy with threat. “Remember it, Doctor.” I should have been scared. I should have run. But something inside me stirred, something dark, like him, and I didn’t yet understand it.

I have just fallen asleep after working around the clock, but my mom insists on dragging me to the supermarket first thing in the morning. Having mistaken us for sisters, the cashier compliments Mom for her youth and looks. But after Mom explains to her smilingly that we're mother and daughter, the cashier's eyes go wide in disbelief. With mixed feelings, she says, "You… You look more like the daughter, though…" That remark leaves me shell-shocked for a moment. Then, I turn around to stare at my and Mom's faces in the mirror. Mom has such smooth and supple skin that she looks like a 20-year-old college student. Meanwhile, there's me, looking like a 50-year-old hag because of the freckles and dark spots covering my face. Mom's smile vanishes instantly. "How dare you speak that way! Are you saying that my daughter looks old?" Since I don't have a good night's sleep, I become uncontrollably pissed. Just as I'm about to curse at the cashier, I catch a glimpse of the crow's feet around Mom's eyes disappearing rapidly from the corner of my eye.