Fea Betty Novels & Stories

Her back slammed into the wall, Dante’s hand pinning hers high above her head, his mouth hovering close enough to steal her breath. His voice was a husky growl, low and lethal. “You think you can defy me, Bianca?” She smirked, arching into him, her nails dragging across his chest. “Defy you? I own the game, Dante.” Their lips crashed...violent, hungry, desperate. His grip was bruising, her body pressed against his with ruthless possession. Every kiss tasted of war. Every touch was a betrayal. Every moan, a fight for dominance neither was willing to lose. Bianca Moretti isn’t just a woman; she’s the She Mafia. Beautiful. Deadly. Untouchable. Dante Moretti, the ruthless Mafia King, should be her greatest enemy… yet he’s also the one man who matches her cruelty and consumes her with forbidden desire. But lust is the most dangerous weapon in a world where loyalty is scarce. And enemies wait in the shadows; Betty Mordecai, venomous and relentless, and Andriena, the lover who turned traitor, ready to tear Bianca apart piece by piece. Now Bianca and Dante must decide: join forces to rule or destroy each other in the crossfire. Because in the Mafia, love isn’t romance. It’s war. It’s obsession. And it always comes with blood.

My sister ate the half plate of mango I had left on the table and broke out in hives from her allergy. My brother stormed over, pried my mouth open, and poured the mango juice straight down my throat. "You love mangoes so much, don't you? Today you'll get your fill." The juice flooded my lungs. I choked, fighting for air as my throat swelled in agony, begging him to save me. Instead, he turned and locked me in the basement. "Betty suffered because of you, so don't expect any comfort. Stay down here and reflect on what you've done. Growing up without any real guidance. No wonder you're so vicious." Two days later, my mom remembered me. "Ralph, that's enough. Let Catherine out. If she stays there much longer, she might start resenting Betty." My dad chimed in casually, "What's the big deal? Just buy her something nice to make up for it." My spirit clung to his back, floating along with them toward the basement. I'd like to see how they were going to compensate a dead girl.

In the fifth year of my spiritual practice, my phone suddenly exploded with messages. [Aria, why aren't you replying? Are you really that petty?] Puzzled, I opened Messenger, and froze. My cousin, who never seemed to measure up to me and always went out of her way to oppose me, was getting married, and she expected me to attend. "Sorry, I've been busy lately. I won't be able to make it," I replied politely. However, my courteous response only fueled their ridicule. "Stop pretending! You haven't kept in touch with your family for years. Are you too embarrassed because your life is such a mess?" "She won't even come to her own cousin's wedding? How heartless!" "Let me guess, the real reason she can't come is she can't afford a wedding gift." One cutting remark after another appeared, until Betty Stewart stepped in, feigning concern. "Come on, don't be so harsh on Aria. We're family, after all." "If she's really struggling, I could ask my husband to help her get a cleaning job." Then she sent me the digital invitation, the gold lettering gleaming. When I saw the groom's name, my pupils constricted in shock. Joseph Clark? Wasn't he the short-lived husband who had spent three years sucking up to me just to extend his life?