Let Me Go My Mafia Husband Novels & Stories

added Natalia, as if she wanted to take me out of the conversation. “Remember the day we slipped and were hanging from some gargoyles? How scary! I don't think we would have survived at that height.” Angelo seems to be having fun, remembering his childhood, while I'm dying of jealousy and can't join the conversation either. I'm a violinist, the third in discord, and without hesitation, I don't want to make an insecure scene; I want to give the image that I trust my husband, so I decide to leave. I say goodbye, giving a kiss to my man, saying,

While she was shopping with a group of friends, a fake message sent these photos along with a text message. "Your husband is having an affair with a woman at the Star Hotel. It's best to call in a bunch of reporters to take pictures. Of course, if you're not afraid of being embarrassed in front of people, then do it. If you don't, the person who is most pleased is that whore. "

He was beaming, his eyes wet with something that looked like relief. "You look like you just won the lottery," I said. "The party wasn't that successful." Lorenzo lunged forward and nearly crushed me in a hug. "Thank you," he choked out. I pushed him back, frowning. "For what? I didn't do anything." "Your husband is a man of his word." "I know that. I'm the one who married the bastard." "Never let him go, kid. He’s obsessed with you." "Why the hell are you telling me this?"

It was during that time, in his bid to marry me, that Carter stood vigil outside the Falcone estate for half a year, sending flowers, gifts, and swearing he would treat me like a true Principessa. I believed him. I finally persuaded my father to relent, and we were married. After the wedding, Carter's rise in the mafia world was meteoric, thanks to the clandestine support of my family. I used my talents to help him launder his funds, step by step, and secure his position as Underboss. Even when he was being conspicuously close with Sofia, I made excuses for him, telling myself she was just a 'confidante'. But he didn't cherish it.

"Spread her legs. I want to see if she's as tight as they say." The lewd jeers, mixed with the acrid smell of cigar smoke, made me want to vomit. I tried to cover myself with the pitifully small scrap of fabric, but my hands were roughly forced behind my back and cuffed to the gilded railing of the circular display platform. Tears blurred my vision, but I finally found the familiar figure. My husband, the king of New York's underworld, Alessandro Santoro, sat in the seat of honor. He wore a perfectly tailored Italian suit, his long legs crossed elegantly.

Matteo Moretti’s voice was sharp and authoritative. Alex sighed. "Good to hear from you too." "You were supposed to keep a low profile." "It’s a misunderstanding." "A misunderstanding?" Matteo repeated in a ice-cold tone. "You’re an undercover mafia boss. And now the entire city thinks you’re about to become some random surgeon’s husband?" Alex pinched the bridge of his nose. "I’ll handle it." "You better," Matteo warned. "Before someone else handles it for you." The line went dead. Alex barely had a second to process that before his phone buzzed again.

Forcing me into marriage was the only way they could secure that shield, a brutal transaction that completely disregarded my own desires. And now? Now that Daniel has what he wanted – my father's restored and ruthlessly taken-over Mafia empire – suddenly, his eyes are fixed on Laura. It's sickeningly clear. I was just a means to an end, a temporary pawn in his power game. I watched in stunned silence as Daniel rushed towards laura, his face alight with excitement. "Laura! Oh my god, I didn't know you were coming!" he exclaimed, sweeping her into a tight hug.

“You come when I tell you to from now on. Not her.” Desperately trying to hold back my orgasm, I nodded. “Okay.” “Watch my wife,” he murmured, tugging on my nipple and making me moan softly. Mallory was watching her husband skillfully touch my folds. “She’s going to come for me on command, and then you’ll learn to do the same thing.” I swallowed hard and stared at his profile, unable to believe that I was really here with a Mafia boss and his wife. Out of all the women in the world they could’ve had, they’d chosen me; they wanted me.

After I was kidnapped by my Family’s enemies, I was left with severe PTSD. I couldn’t stand the noise of intense sound. On our wedding day, my husband, the Mafia Don Andre, swore before God that he would create a world of silence for me. For five years, he never wore any device that made a sound. He even ordered that no gunshots were to be heard anywhere in Sicily, losing several major deals because of it. Until my best friend Alice returned to Sicily and openly played rock music inside the estate. The terror of being kidnapped came rushing back. I crawled onto the floor, begging and apologizing over and over. Tears mixed with the blood running down my face as I kept hitting my head against

He was about to punch me when he stopped and became pale and weaker. The knife I used was small but, it had a deadly poison. "Goodbye, dog of a mafia org." I'm a killer, yeah, I'm not just an ordinary model. I hate Mafia the most. I love killing them. ------- "Wifey, awake, awake!" I woke up when Warren jumped on our bed. "What's the matter Warren?" I asked sleepily. He lay down next to me and moved his foot. "You have a male visitor. His name is Yuhan." He said while pouting.