Forbidden By Her Mafia Stepbrother Novels & Stories

Stefano knew that and that was why he made the deal. Stefano continued piercing Connie's body with the knife until she died. Elisa felt like vomiting at the sight in front of her. Stefano at that moment looked like the grim reaper. His crisp white shirt was covered in blood. She felt stupid from not reading all the signs that he was in the mafia. The unspeakable business, the secrets even at the wedding reception, his side of the guests being kind of strange. Everything about him screamed something dangerous but she refused to listen and now because of her, an innocent woman has paid for it with her life.

Maybe, here in this house by the sea, they could carve out a different kind of forever. A forever where love was stronger than blood. Where promises meant more than power. Where a mafia king could fall to his knees for the reckless, beautiful girl who taught him to feel again. And stay there, grateful, for the rest of his life. ---

She wanted to kiss him again. Viola gasped slightly, her eyes flying open. Heat flooded her pale cheeks, burning all the way to her ears. She immediately shook her head, deeply ashamed of her own mind. He was her stepbrother. He was a ruthless mafia boss. But the realization left her completely exposed. He was the only person in the world who made her feel safe. She left her room, navigating the quiet corridors. The heavy collar weighed down her neck with every step. She had to swallow her pride. She reached the grand staircase and slowly walked down, her hand gripping the cold marble banister.

But I couldn’t stop now. Riccardo Moretti never needed to raise his voice to command respect. His presence alone did that. “I refuse to believe I raised such a stupid daughter,” he said evenly. “You still don’t get it? In this world, no one does what they want. Everyone does what they must.” “I know,” I replied quickly. “I know how the mafia works. Rules. Deals. Hierarchy. But—” “But nothing,” he interrupted again. “Everything has a price.”

"It's the women of this mafia Lucy. The women who have never been appreciated, cast, and thrown out like some sort of breeding machine. I guess I just wanted for every woman who joined and felt... unimportant or useless. I wanted them to know that somewhere, somehow in a small way, they made a difference. They are the females that protect the young in the herd from predators or in my case, me protecting my son from his father. I didn't do much of a good job I mean, look at Luca. That kind of emotionless nature doesn't come from anywhere and I wish I'd done better. For him and his brother." "Luca has a brother?" I asked surprised, my mind still turning from the deep words Faye just said. "Ste

"I paid ten million dollars for you, in front of a room full of witnesses. So no, little sister. You don't have a choice." I heard her suck in a breath. Then she turned in her seat to face me, and I could feel her glaring at the side of my face, hot enough to burn. "You're a devil," she said. "You know that? You're a sick, disgusting devil. You go to places like that and you buy women like they're cattle. Do you do it every week? Is that what you do for fun when you're not killing people?" Her voice cracked and rose. "You're disgusting. You're worse than your father. You're worse than all of them."

I honestly wasn't sure whether I should burst out laughing or start sobbing on the spot. She continued casually, “I know what you must be thinking. Miguel shoots Chadwick. Chadwick nearly bleeds out on an operating table. There is an armored shootout at the gates. Everyone is threatening each other with automatic weapons.” She gave an elegant, careless shrug. “This is not hatred. This is simply how we communicate.” My mouth hung open. What kind of psychotic family dynamic is this?! “It's love,” she added smoothly. I stared at her in absolute, speechless disbelief. Love?! What planet do these mafia sociopaths live on?!

“Dante Moretti wants a wife. He wants you.” “No.” The word rips out of my mother. She’s on her feet, shielding me like I’m five again. “I won’t let my daughter marry that murderer.” Luciano doesn’t flinch. “The offer wasn’t for you, Carla.” My brother chooses that moment to walk in. Marco. Twenty-three. My father’s men at his back. He’s been crying too. But his eyes are dry now. “Of course she accepts,” Marco says to Luciano, “A Moretti alliance clears the debt. Saves the family. You tell Dante we agree.”

They were discussing my future like I wasn't standing right there. "Excuse me?" Nobody listened. Honestly, being a mafia daughter was exhausting. Roman folded his arms. "The enemy wants the bride." His gaze settled on me. "They won't get her." My stomach tightened. The enemy. Who exactly was the enemy now? The Bratva? The mystery organization? The people behind Bianca's manipulation? The people who claimed I wasn't really a Moretti? At this point I needed a chart. Possibly several charts. The warehouse meeting finally ended close to dawn.

She smiled weakly, trying to hide the tears building in her eyes. “I’m twenty years old. I can handle myself,” she whispered. “I’m twenty-six,” I replied softly, “and I can handle anyone who hurts you. So talk.” She looked at me with a weak smile. Changing into a sad look. “I broke up with Brandon.” “Did he cheat on you?” I asked immediately. I should make sure to teach him a lesson. “No,” she shook her head. “He found out about our family’s real mafia business. It scared him, and he couldn’t handle it.”