Italian Romance Books Novels & Stories

Hi everyone, This is my love letter to you, *Giggles* Thank you so much for reading this book. I went through a wild emotional ride writing it. I love you all so much and I appreciate your support. If you enjoy my writing and are wondering what to read next, I got you. Mafia books on this platform: Take me I'm yours ( stalker romance) His secret wife (Marriage of convience) Werewolf books on this platform: The royally screwed Luna

Before me, there is a soft golden fairy lights wrapped around the railing, a round table draped in ivory linen, set with crystal glassware, a single red rose in a slim vase at the center. Gentle Italian music played in the background, while a bottle of vintage red wine rested in an ice bucket beside two plush velvet chairs, overlooking the city skyline. It's was amazing and so romantic, who knew Mr Dante can be romantic. We got seated and Dante said a few words to the attendant probably ordering our meal became heaven know I don't understand shit about anything Italian. I decided to asked some questions based on what he said about me not knowing everything about him. And when I tell you I wa

"Don't worry, Mrs. Romano, we have a library. Would you like to have a look?" My eyes sparkled up with excitement just by hearing the word Library. I love reading fictional books and that is the reason why I am a hopeless romantic girl stuck in his cruel dark world of mafias. I nodded my head vigorously. "Yes, of course!" He led me towards the library room and my jaw dropped. It was an old library designed nothing to match with the aesthetic of the party going downstairs.

ROMANO'S P.O.V. I have met a fair share of women in my life. At the age of thirty-three, I was already weary of them. They all wanted the same thing, love, affection, and all that romantic büllshīt I couldn't give. I've never believed in coincidence or fate, but what happened today seems like such. Calista Vitale. The very surname I've hated my whole life. And worse, she was the bride of Matteo Orsini, the other name I hate as much as Vitale.

I replied and she smiled. "So for our trip, which country do you wanna go?" I asked. "Our trip? Thought I was going alone." "Of course not, who knows what kind of men you'll meet there, I'm definitely going with you." I said. "Oh God, please don't tell me..." "Yes, I am the jealous type." I said interrupting her and she laughed. "Fine then, let's go on a trip together, let's go to Italy." THE END Dear readers, please kindly rate this my lowly piece of writing. Your ratings and comments help me to know where I need to improve on in my next write-up.

“Marcella, do you understand what that means?” I sigh, already knowing where this is going. “Stephanie….” “I’ve always wanted to date one,” she cuts in, her eyes dreamy now. “Like… the possessiveness, the obsession, the way they don’t let anyone else touch what’s theirs…” She hugs herself slightly, smiling. “It’s exactly like the dark romance books I read.” I stare at her, completely unimpressed. “You need help,” I say and she laughs. “I’m serious! Imagine it… a guy who would burn the world for you? Who would kill for you?”

“I used to consider that respect would be sufficient. That earned loyalty would always be stronger than enforced devotion, but I was incorrect” I removed the black book from under my arm and raised it. The older men visibly went pale, with some lowering their eyes, and others backing a tiny step away. Primo's lips tightened in irritation, but then his eyes opened in shock, recognizing the book. “Some of you must have heard rumors from many years ago about how merciless De Luca was, and how they've killed all their men in a single night. “I am here to let you know that none of those are rumors but true. People, the older ones must have seen and known why before the fall of the De Luca family

"Two jobs?" She shrugged. "It keeps me busy." I looked at Chiara. "And you?" Chiara hesitated. "I work at a bookstore. Part-time. It's not much, but I love it." "A bookstore," I said, genuinely interested. "That's lovely. What kind of books do you like?" Chiara's face lit up. "Romance, mostly. But not the cheesy kind. The ones where the characters actually feel real." "Oh, I love those," Gianna chimed in. "The ones where you stay up all night reading because you can't put them down."

I chuckled as I took the phone from his hand. “Adrián,” I said. I’d done work for him a few times in the past, but he wasn’t someone I saw lasting long as a don. He was too procedural and spoke first, killed later. Men like him didn’t last. “I need to find a girl. About five-seven. Green eyes. Name’s Emilia.” He was also the apparent second love interest of Emilia Visconti. Raffaele’s life was turning into a fucking telenovela.

She dragged her woolen cardigan to cover more of her hand before adding, "like your name for example, most harlequin romance novels use them in their mafia series." She cleared her throat then turned towards me, her facial expression morphing from a smile to a sad look, "Bella please. Te querio, I'm so sorry, I hurt you. No woman will ever be right for me like you." Her diction, the pause after the Italian endearment and her body language was perfect acting. "Wow. Is that like a scene from those books?" "Yes. When the mafia had treated her like shit enough and she finally made up her mind to leave him."