Francesco Lugli Novels & Stories

Then, with deliberate slowness, he reached for a small black bottle. “I thought you would prefer the gentle way,” he murmured. “Guess I was wrong.” The poison burned down my throat—Deadly Nightshade. It was once my favorite. I had used it to end others. Now, he was using it on me. “Sometimes,” he whispered, “the person you once loved is the one who finally kills you.” ~~~~~ Brinda Virginia’s life has always been a battle—against fate, against her own fire, and against a heart that beats too weakly to match the storm inside her. Abandoned as a child and raised by the only woman who ever truly loved her, she’s now facing her biggest loss yet. Her stepmother is dying. And the clock is ticking—seventy-two hours. That’s all the time she has to save her. But then he returns. Francesco Dante. Her past. Her ruin. A man cloaked in shadows, bearing a twisted bargain—submit to him, body and soul, or lose everything. To save the only family she has left, Brinda must surrender. But submitting, in a world ruled by power, lust, and betrayal, is never truly submission. Because this man doesn’t just want to own her—he wants to unmake her, unravel her, and turn her fire to ash. And the most devastating part? She might just let him. And love, in this kind of story, always draws blood.

“Look at you, so wild and vulnerable,” he said gruffly and gripped a handful of my hair and pulled it backward, causing my head to tilt back while his other hand was cupping my breast.    I gasped at his sudden roughness.    “You’re driving me crazy, Dani. You’re a good distraction. I’d never been so distracted like this that I lost focus with my master plan.” *** TERZO When I took someone’s life, I knew there was no going back. To seek redemption and save my sister from marrying an evil like Francesco Giordani, I have to find his runaway daughter. The job should be easy— bring Dani Souls home by any means necessary. But when life takes an unexpected turn, it’s not always in the right direction. I find myself drawn to her. Seeing her terrified of me, I take it to my advantage. I didn’t give her many options: marry me or marry another monster. My only issue is that she doesn’t know I killed her brother. *** DANI When a tall, dark, and mysterious man steps into my life, I know he’s a made man— extremely dangerous. In a moment of weakness, I shot him.  For someone like Terzo Siciliano, a ruthless, unforgiving, and incapable of emotions, whose surname is feared by many, I should be dead by now. Instead, he plays his cards right and lures me into a trap— a marriage for my protection, or he owns my life. While our families are on the verge of a raging war, I feel helpless to resist his devilish charm. But I don’t know which feels much worse, me treading on dangerous waters or uncovering his deceit?

“Why did you do it?” He demanded in a low voice, a warning, while closing in on me. The defiant look on my face crumbled a little as I hastily began to backtrack, it wasn’t long before I felt the edge of the bed behind my knees. “Fucking answer me, Kiara!” He roared, cold breath fanning the tip of my nose as he spoke. I gulped in fear, as what I had done just began to fully sink in. “I- I don’t…” A firm push against my forehead tipped me over and I fell on my back like a doll, panting wide eyed at a very furious Xavier. I scrambled backwards, or attempted to– but Xavier’s large hands clamped on my ankles, sharply jerking me downwards until my legs dangled at his sides. “Not only did you leave the house on your own– you crashed my car, set it on fire and then you went to a freaking, dangerous club…” He moved his hands off my ankles and circled my hips, grips tightening instantly, threateningly. “…and let worthless men touch what’s mine. Who told you that was acceptable?” I scoffed and rolled my eyes even though my heart was racing. “Who said I was yours? Since when did you make me yours?” “Since right now.” ————— Forced to marry Xavier Romano in order to spare her brother’s life, Kiara Francesco– sassy, rebellious and drop dead gorgeous, was determined to be no fragile and obedient wife; which surprised, spurred Xavier on and made his sinful hunger for her intensify with each passing second. Life as a very powerful mafia lord’s wife was no child’s play, seeing as it comes with a whole lot of danger. And Kiara was ready for the dangerous ride.

My name is Clara Kelly. I was born in Brooklyn, into an Irish-American cop’s family. My father spent his whole career walking a beat out of the 84th Precinct. My mother volunteered at the parish. I was the first girl on our block to get into Columbia Law. The year I graduated, I was volunteering at a charity gala. I picked up the wrong glass of wine and ended up dumping it down the front of a man’s Brioni suit. That man was Adrian Francesco Moretti. Fourth-generation Don of the Moretti Family of New York, and one of the five families of Cosa Nostra. He chased me for four years. I said no six times. The seventh time, he stood outside my law firm in the rain until three-fifteen in the morning. I married him. Two decades in, he’d handed me the keys to the entire Moretti Family. In our world they called me “the Irish Donna,” a woman with no Italian blood who somehow held the seat. Childless by choice, the two of us. Famously in love. Until that Wednesday afternoon, when my college roommate of twenty years, my best friend Vivian Sinclair, walked into my living room with a five-year-old boy. She said the boy was Adrian’s son. She said that five years ago, she’d taken a used condom out of the wastebasket in my upstairs master bedroom, kept it frozen for three years, and done IVF. She said she was the real mother of the Moretti heir. She was the real Donna Moretti. “Be smart. Pack your bags and walk out. You might even get to keep your life.” “You’re barren. The Moretti Family doesn’t need you.” I looked at the woman I’d called my best friend for half my adult life. I didn’t say a word. She thought she was holding the winning card. What she didn’t know was that she’d just stepped onto a board Adrian and I had been laying for twenty years. I needed exactly one sentence to shatter every piece of the Donna fantasy she’d spent five years building.