Mafia Nanny Romance Books Novels & Stories

"Great. We'll go have all the fun, and Miss Nerd here can go back to her books." She rolled her eyes again. "I'm not a nerd." "Yet you act like one." "Is the club close by?" I asked after they stopped bantering, and he nodded. "Thirty minutes away. It's actually open to mostly prestigious people and is rumored to be owned by the Mancini family." "Mancini family?" "Yes. A powerful Mafia family here in Italy. No one really knows much about their operations, but rumors are always flying here and there. It is rumored that they own most of the clubs, restaurants, and casinos in the country too. It's quite crazy."

Her siblings still unaware of the tidal wave about to hit them. That was before everything fell apart. The embezzlement scandal. The lawsuits. The media storm. The betrayal from people they once trusted. It all happened so fast, the Narciso name collapsing under the weight of corporate deceit and public shame. Her father’s reputation shredded, her mother trying to hold the family together with trembling hands, and her younger siblings forced to leave school. They were drowning. And no one was coming to save them. No one… except for one name: Salvador.

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But Mikhail didn’t look away from her. “You know my name now,” she whispered. He tilted his head. “I knew it the first night you walked in.” Her eyes widened. “What?” “Isabella Moretti,” he said. His voice dropped lower and rougher. “Daughter of Carlo Moretti. The girl who ran from the Rossi wedding. The girl whose father sold her to pay his debts.” She felt the floor tilt under her feet and he stepped even closer. His body blocked the whole doorway now. “You walked into my casino. You took my job. You looked me in the eye when everyone else looked away. And now you saw what I do to people who betray me.”

Next to me, Mag sat perfectly still, her eyes glued to her phone as we waited for Murphy to call and for the rain to stop, or at least ease up a little. Outside the dark windows, the view looked like an expensive painting—Luxe Noir, Dallas's most exclusive nightclub, a palace of glass and black marble illuminated by neon lights that shimmered through the rain. Only people with smelling money, and real power were allowed into this vicinity... and my next target, Blake Luca, was the nightclub's magnate who owned Luxe Noir—a small part of his vast empire. "Hope you know the details?," Mag asked, slightly tilting her head toward me. "You know exactly what to do tonight."

Cassie feigned innocence, a subtle smirk still playing on her lips as she winked at hades. She took a sip of her drink, her eyes darting between the two brothers. “Oh, dear. Are we talking about mafia business? I’m afraid I’m just a simple Russian girl, not much for complex dealings. Just here for the glitter. And the pretty boys.” She gave Gregory a playful pat on the arm, a gesture of ownership that seemed to irk Hades the more.

It was cruelty. “Well, well,” she purred, voice syrupy and poisonous, “the little pet’s still breathing.” My jaw clenched. Valentina Greco. A name that dripped with legacy and cruelty. Daughter of New York's most feared mafia clan, a woman born with blood on her hands and diamonds at her throat. Our families had once shared power like gods. Until Damian razed mine to ash. She hated me. Not because I wronged her, but because I existed where she wanted to be—near him.

“The Heiress.” He leaned back, resting his studious gaze on mine. “You want her.” When I didn’t respond, he laughed, slapping his knee in amusement. Giancarlo Conti traded flesh and women, boasting contacts of the most depraved individuals who could afford to pay for their sick fantasies to come to life. My father had been in on it with him. George Marlow had let most of it happen in the Grand Marlow Hotel. My thoughts? They’re all sick individuals who deserve the worst deaths. Darko and George had gotten the easy way out, a bullet to the head, but I wasn’t going to let Giancarlo escape with a less brutal fate.

I’m slowly making my way downstairs with Giovanni’s help, when I spot a dark-haired woman sitting in the living room. She has her head downcast and appears to be writing in a journal or notebook while not even taking in her surroundings. “Nikki Baranova,” Giovanni says. “She’s Frankie’s fiancee.” Oh, she’s the Bratva Princess Dom spoke about, the timid and quiet one. Wow, now that I know Frankie better, I must admit that I don’t see how this will work out between them, since Frankie is the complete opposite of her.

I broke it off and she had been my enemy ever since. To get back at me, she and her new rebound plotted to take my life and they almost succeeded. Here I was with various degree burns and broken bones stuck with a gloating ex. She still wanted me because a woman like her could not handle being rejected. Blame mommy and daddy for that. She was in a short leather skirt with matching boots that reached her thigh and a white form fitting blouse. It gave of some form of high school vibe. "Your men are nothing without your leadership, and you know the rules, a member of any mafia can not make a move without the consent of the big boss which is you," She said. "But how will poor Stephan call for he