Novel & Cerita Italian Nobility

All her life Gia had known she would be married off to the oldest heir of the Armani family but when he suddenly dies weeks before the wedding, she is handed over to his youngest brother, Vito Armani. Vito Armani is the next head of the Italian Mafia after his brother dies. He's cold, unfeeling and completely emotionless. When Gia comes into his life he can't resist her. She's delicate and innocent and he wants to ruin her and taint every inch of her. However there are obstacles in their ways; the truth about Gia threatens to break their relationship. Gia's arrangement to marry into the Armani family was calculated by Giovanni, Vito's father. He wants to use her to hurt her family and to destroy them for a crime her father committed against the Armanis, but Vito wants to protect her and shield her from everything. Vito is Gia's sexual awakening, pleasuring her in ways she didn't know existed. She is a virgin, and her innocence and purity is what draws Vito to her. Beyond her body and the intense pleasure she gives him, he falls in love with the shy little girl inside. Massimo Armani, Vito's older brother falls in love with Gia as well, finding her at her weakest moments and giving her the care she desperately needs. When Vito's mistress finds out she's pregnant with the first grandson of the Armani Clan, everything comes crumbling down. Gia finds comfort and consolidation in Massimo's arms again. Will she give up on Vito, or stand by him like he stood by her? . . . Vito's eyes rover all over my body. "Strip." His voice was a command, dominant, rough and it made my panties dampen a little more when I thought I couldn't possibly get wetter.

“Five million dollars may have bought my chains, but it didn’t buy my loyalty — and it definitely didn’t buy my heart. I never dreamed my life would come down to a transaction of hundred million dollars. But my father’s betrayal puts me at the mercy of Adrian Costa, the ruthless Sicilian, head of Cosa Nostra whose name makes the mafia world quake with fear. Including me. He bought me in an auction and then made me his wife. Saying no to him is not an option. He is dark and dangerous. I have done underhanded work against him using my hacker identity, CIPHER. I have to escape his gilded cage before he finds out my alt identity. Each of our battles ignites a deadly game of power and lust. As secrets unravel and Adrian’s enemies close in, I find myself faced with the ultimate dilemma: Will I fight for my freedom, or will the king I hate become the one man I cannot live without? ***** “You think you can outrun me, Elena? You're wearing my ring on your finger.” I don’t flinch, meeting his gaze with defiance. “So what? I don’t belong to you.” He leans in, his lips brushing against my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. “You don’t, yet. But I can make you. Do you want that?" I swallow hard, my pulse racing. “Don’t flatter yourself.” Adrian chuckles darkly, his hand lingering on my waist. “Trust me, I’m not the one who needs to be flattered.” ***** # Dark Mafia Romance #18+ #Hacker Female Lead and Italian Mafia Lord # Touch her you die #Marriage contract # He falls first #Fast Paced #Strong FL and ML #A Not so cute Pet (Oh he is cute. Don't go by his looks) #HEA

His fingers were already at the lace between my thighs when he pushed me against the marble vanity, breath hot, voice darker than sin, his arousal pressing against my throbbing core. "Open your legs for me, Mrs Valentino." He didn’t wait. He plunged into me roughly, his mouth trailing down my neck like he owned it. I hated the way my body arched for him. I hated even more that he smirked when it did. I was supposed to be terrified, not trembling for the man who forced a ring onto my finger two days after abducting me. Before Dante Valentino touched me like that... before he whispered filth and promises into my ears, I was Valentina Morrison: a quiet girl, psychology graduate, volunteer counselor blissfully unaware that my entire life was a lie. I didn’t know the truth about my parents. I didn't know my bloodline belonged to a mafia empire that their hands were filled with blood. I only knew one thing the night I witnessed a murder in a Manhattan alley and it was that I was going to die...until he showed up. Dante, the most feared Italian boss in New York. He was ruthless and calculating. He didn't save me, he claimed me. Only because I’m not just some civilian. I'm the last surviving Castellano heir, the one piece of leverage that can rewrite the entire underworld. So Dante forced a marriage to protect me. To control me. To bind me to him in pleasure and law. And somewhere between running from gunfire and running from him, I made the worst mistake possible: I let the devil touch me. I let his hands teach my body a language my mind despises but my body craves. I let him explore me.

Warning- Mature Audiences only!. -Strong sexual content. - rated language. Original work. Description: "Get up!." He commanded. His voice was stern and his cold blue eyes pierced into my skin. I didn't look fazed by his intimidating demeanor. "You muckerfucker blood-sucking demon." I cussed, biting down my lower lip to hinder myself from not raining more curses at him. He smirked. He glided across the room until he stood in front of me, I looked right into his eyes as he lowered down to my level. His hand gripped my chin up, his blue eyes looking deep into mine. "You won't end well if you continue to speak to me like that," I smirked. "I am not afraid of you!" He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. "And you're afraid of death, I am death." My jaw dropped. He knows where to get me. He let go of me seeing my frightened look and looking satisfied. "But you didn't have to kill that girl for my sake. She did nothing." "Someone's going to cover up for you." He turned around and went to sit on my bed. "But I didn't kill him. There was nothing to cover up for." "Oh, dear." He said and lit his joint up. "He died." I froze. I killed someone too. I've stained my hands with blood. "Don't look too surprised and all that stunned. That's one thing you'll learn how to do and face. You've got to learn how to kill." *** Vanora Campbell's mom died leaving her with her uncaring father, she blamed her father for killing her mother and lived so carelessly thereafter. Her life turned upside down when her dad sold her to the Italian mafia boss, Zavi Covillie.

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.

The night before high school graduation, Ethan Luciano pulled me into his bedroom. His hands were rough, his touch demanding, yet my heart overflowed with a decade's worth of unspoken longing. I'd loved Ethan for ten years, and finally, it seemed my silent wishes had come true. Afterwards, as we lay tangled in his sheets, he whispered that he'd marry me after graduation. Once he took over the Luciano family's empire from his father, he'd make me the most cherished woman in the family. I believed him. The next morning, I sat curled up against his bare chest as he casually told my foster brother, Lucas, about us. My cheeks were flushed, and my heart raced, still clinging to the sweetness of the night before. However, then their conversation shifted into Italian. Lucas smirked, leaning back against the doorframe. "Not bad, Young Boss. Your first time, and the school's 'it girl' just threw herself at you. So, how's my little sister taste?" Ethan gave a lazy chuckle. "Looks like an angel, but a freak in the sheets. Who would’ve thought?" The room erupted in low, conspiratorial laughter. Lucas raised a brow. "So, should I call her my little sister or my future sister-in-law?" Ethan’s tone darkened, his arm tightening around my waist for a moment. Then he let out a sigh. "She’s nothing. Just practice," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I’m trying to hook up with the cheer captain, Sylvia Dawson, but I don’t want her thinking I’m clueless in bed. Cynthia Saville’s just a warm-up." He paused. "But don’t tell Sylvia. I don’t need her getting all emotional." They didn't know that I’d spent months secretly learning Italian, preparing for the life I thought I’d share with Ethan. I didn't say a word. Later that day, I quietly withdrew my early decision application to Caltech and applied to MIT instead.