Don't Trust Everyone Novels & Stories

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 was eight months pregnant, at a charity gala with my husband, Don Massimo, when a rival family hit us. The crowd panicked. I was shoved to the floor, hard. Blood everywhere. Massimo lost his mind, screaming for medics, desperate to save my baby. But when I woke up, they were gone. Both of them. No baby, no Massimo. I remembered the gunfire, Massimo shielding me with his body. A cold dread washed over me. I hauled myself into a wheelchair and raced down the hall. That’s when I heard them—Massimo and the doctor. "Boss, I'm sorry. We did everything we could. The baby… he didn't make it." Tears streamed down my face. They killed my baby. The rival family killed my baby. But his next words shattered my world. "There was only one medical team. I had to make a choice. Bianca… she was carrying my child, too." Massimo sighed, then gave the order. "No one tells Arabella. She'll raise Bianca's son as her own. He will be my only heir." I slapped a hand over my mouth, my vision blurred by tears as I turned away. The man I loved was a lie. Fine. If he wants a war, he'll get one.

“Six million,” the translator said. “And your daughter belongs to the Moretti family.” I wasn't a bride; I was a debt settlement. Sold to settle my father's gambling debts, I was handed over to the most feared man in the underworld: Dante Moretti. They call him the #SilentDon. He hasn't spoken a word in five years, ruling the city through cold violence and terrifying shadows. He is a #PossessiveAlpha who doesn't negotiate—he owns. But I have a secret. I’m not just a trophy wife. I am a #SecretGenius, a master strategist who can dismantle an empire before the first shot is fired. I thought I could outsmart a man who doesn't speak. I thought this #ArrangedMarriage was my cage, but I was wrong. Dante didn’t buy me for my beauty. He bought me for my mind. He’s been watching me for years, waiting for the perfect moment to trap me in his world. In this #MafiaRomance, the stakes are lethal. As rivals circle and blood spills, I realize the most dangerous thing about the Silent Don isn’t his silence—it’s the way he looks at me when we’re alone. I am bound to a monster. And the only thing more dangerous than being his enemy? Being his obsession.

On the night of our third anniversary, Killian missed dinner again. Texted me he was working late at the auto shop. I looked at the $5.90 clearance cake on the table. I'd fought a crowd at the grocery store to buy it. I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat. We need to save for a real house in Brooklyn, I told myself. I put the cake in the fridge. I wrapped my cheap coat tight and walked into the cold to deliver late-night takeout for extra cash. I never expected to run into my "poor" husband at a luxury hotel in Manhattan. He stepped out of a Rolls-Royce in a sharp custom suit, tossing hundred-dollar bills to the valet. A hot woman wearing a priceless pigeon-blood ruby followed behind him, hooking his arm. "Killian, it's snowing so hard. Are you really going back to Brooklyn to play house with your naive little peasant wife?" she whined. Killian looked at the cheap, tarnished silver ring on his finger. A hint of softness crossed his cold eyes. "For three years, she worked five jobs a day to pay off the fake debts I made up. She wouldn't even see a doctor when she was sick." "That's enough. She passed my test. Once I deal with the rat in the family, I'll tell her everything. Give her the glory she deserves as my Donna." The woman bit her lip. "What if she finds out you're a Mafia Don and is just after your money? Why not tell her you have a terminal illness—see if she'll drain her savings to save you. Test her one more time…" Killian stayed quiet for a long time. Finally, he nodded. "One last test. After this, I'm giving her the grandest wedding." The freezing wind howled. I gripped the paper takeout bag. Tears rolled down my face without a sound. I am done with this arrogant, lying love.

“She was once his weakness. Now she’s his greatest threat.” He used her like she was nothing. An innocent girl who became the plaything of the most feared mafia don in the city — Dante Moretti. No promises. No love. Just pleasure. And when she gave him the one thing he never expected — a child — he threw her away like she meant nothing. “I begged you to love me. You taught me to burn instead.” — Amara Left broken, abandoned, and pregnant, Amara vanished. But monsters aren’t the only ones who rise from the dark. Years later, she returns — no longer the fragile girl he remembers, but the woman standing beside his greatest rival. The queen who carries his biggest regret… and the power to destroy him. “You made me your weakness. I made myself your war.” Dante built an empire on blood and loyalty. But nothing will prepare him for the storm that wears the face of the woman he left behind. And this time… she’s not here to beg. She’s here to burn his world down. “I once loved you enough to kneel. Now I love myself enough to watch you fall.”

My best friend and my husband, Lorenzo Bartoli, fought every time they met. Lorenzo was the Don of the family, while my best friend was his Consigliere. She always fiercely opposed his most ruthless, high-risk decisions. Tempers explode every single time. But there was one rule that they both agreed on without any hesitation. No one was allowed to touch me. Because of them, no one in the city dared to cross me. Until the fifth month of my pregnancy, when I went down to the basement vault to organize Lorenzo's guns for him. I opened the safe to see stacks of letters, hundreds of them, all unsent. I picked one up. The moment I opened the letter, cold dread overwhelmed me. The receiver of the letter wasn't me. [My dearest Sofia…] I quickly scanned downward to the final lines of the letter. [If I don't make it back alive, everything in the Swissie accounts goes to you. As for Vittoria, she's a good woman, but I have never loved her.] With trembling hands, I tore open the rest of the letters like a hysterical woman. Three hundred of them in total. Every single one was addressed to Sofia Finzi. Sofia was not a stranger. She was my best friend.

"Before anything, before you allow your inner thoughts to go on an overdrive, know that I love you. I love you so fucking much and I don't care who you currently are, Serena or Rosalia doesn't matter to me, it's just a name. But what I do know is that you are mine and under no circumstances would I do anything to hurt you" ** Rosalia had thought her biggest problem was how to secure a new job after losing her current one, and avoiding the ex convict who seemed to be out to get her. But she wasn't prepared for the sudden intrusion of a certain man who claimed to be her husband! Husband? She didn't even know him!. Worst of all, they already had a daughter who looked exactly like her! Rosalia was thrown into a state of confusion where everything seemed to belong to her but not at the same time. She was determined to find out what had happened to her in the past and how to fix the present which seemed already damaged.

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."

Everyone had been poisoned. The toast for my party had just happened and now people were dropping like flies around me. And then I saw him. He entered the hall like an angel of death, his dark brown eyes two pools of malevolence that shone with sinister intent.Despite his twenty years of age, he definitely had more kills under his belt than years on his person. I was viciously yanked into the hard body of the man responsible for everything going on.One muscular arm went over my chest, pinning me to him. Fear lodged itself in my throat upon the sensation of cool dangerous metal at my temple. I bit back a whimper. He was going to kill me. “The name is Gabriel Rossi,” he murmured, his deep voice sending ripples of fear down my spine. “And your papa is going to watch me k*ll his precious princesa. He took my birthright from me. I’m gonna take something from him too.” I gathered my courage and with a surprising amount of strength fueled by the sheer terror pumping in my veins, I pulled myself out of Gabriel’s grasp. He tried to grab my arm, only for his hand to go over the protective bangle that suppressed my magic. I gave another fierce jerk of my body and the bangle broke away, left behind in his hand as I pulled free. I heard the cocking of his p*st0l. My eyes met the feral glowing yellow eyes of my killer, one hundred percent sure I was going to die. “Mate,” Gabriel Rossi said, staring straight at me. **** In a world where darkness and magic collide, Evelina finds herself entangled in a perilous dance with fate. You can run from Gabriel Rossi....but you can't hide. ***

I woke in the middle of the night to my Don husband murmuring in his sleep. “Juno, be good. Tomorrow I’ll buy you and Mamma a new house.” My eyes flew open. Juno? That was the name I’d always planned for a purebred Ceylon cat I dreamed of owning, but I’d never gotten one because of my pet fur allergy. And a new house? Could this just be a coincidence? I shook him lightly. “What did you just say?” He frowned and mumbled coarsely, “Had a nightmare. Dreamt of a shootout.” I didn’t press further. In the darkness, I reached for his phone and silently opened his messages.