Mafia Sisters' Betrothals Novels & Stories

Liam smirked. “Enough, Liam!” Lyra yelled at the top of her lungs. B “Don’t you feel ashamed to keep an eye on your brother’s wife?” “Oh, shut up!” Liam gritted his teeth. “I was obsessed with her at the moment I saw her for the first time, but your ex-husband has married and taken her from me.” “Crap, I don’t want to waste time anymore." "I don’t have time; now I’ve got to handle the mafia seat.”

I was being pulled apart by two different brands of tyranny. “This is your chance to leave,” Sofia continued, her voice dropping to a low, urgent hiss. “Take the marriage. Leave the estate. Go be someone else’s problem. Just… stay away from Salvatore. He’s mine. This alliance, this life, I earned it. Don't you dare try to steal the crown I spent years preparing for.” I looked at her, really looked at her. My sister, with whom I used to share secrets, was standing there telling me to be a sacrificial lamb so she could marry a man who clearly hated her. The betrayal tasted like copper in my mouth.

"Instead of leaving you with no hope, men like him are experts at giving you hope, then taking it away. When that hope gets snatched back, you realize just how desperately you wanted it. I had no choice! I couldn't just watch my sister die!" "Listen." Sofia grabbed my shoulders. "Your sister is temporarily safe now. If you don't sign this contract, wouldn't she still be okay? Aria, do you still have the option to refuse him?" I shook my head. "With his mafia connections, I guarantee no one in this city would treat my sister again. I can't take that risk." "There has to be another way. You haven't signed the contract yet!" Sofia's voice grew urgent. "We can at least fight for something in the

Brutal. And now, thanks to his father's last will and testament, he was shackled to a responsibility he neither wanted nor asked for. Marriage. To **her**. Luciano’s jaw tightened at the thought. His new "wife" was none other than Aria Bellini — his twenty-one-year-old stepsister. The same reckless, fiery girl who had once driven him insane by sneaking out of the house at night, laughing at his rules, tempting the very edge of his patience.

On my wedding day, my arranged fiancé abandoned me and chose my sister Emily instead. In that devastating moment when I became everyone's laughingstock, my business partner James Crawford shocked everyone by publicly proposing to me in a grand romantic gesture. After marriage, because of his sweet words and gentle persuasion about "good wife’s role," I gradually stepped back from the spotlight, handing over my core resources and connections piece by piece for him to manage. Using excuses like "I want to protect you" and "I want to give you stability," he gradually transformed me into a kept woman dependent on him.

“If I show up at that altar and take you away, there will be no second chances. You will marry me according to Mr. Bennett’s last wishes. Can you do that?” His words sent my heart in a spiral. “I know what it means,” I said, voice firm. “And it’s what I want. Come get me. Just make sure you show up on time.” Then I hung up. The shift inside me was almost dizzying—how fast I moved from heartbreak to strategy. But that’s what it meant to be raised in a family like mine. In our world, betrayal wasn’t a shock. It was routine. I just never expected to get one from Evan, the man I’d once chosen over everyone else.

A commitment to maintain peace. I wasn't a complete moron. I was aware that this was also about money and power, but it wasn't the whole story. Both were experiencing a decline as a direct result of various criminal groups such as the Russian Mafia known as "The maquese," the Taiwanese Triad, and others striving to increase their influence in our areas. It was necessary for the various Italian families throughout the United States to put an end to their feuds and collaborate in order to prevail over their adversaries. It would be an incredible privilege for me to wed the eldest son of the New York family. Since the day I became engaged to Damon, my father and all of my other male relatives h

Before I could speak, she added, “He has a perfect wife. A wife who’s not an eighteen-year-old.” “Where did you hear that?” “Word in the air. She’s something around twenty-five or six and is the eldest Rossi heir.” “Rossi? You mean the Outfit?” Arabella nodded. “She’s a Mafioso princess, a capo’s sister.” That explained why she had been the recent talk in the Cosa Nostra. Outfit and Cosa Nostra’s alliance was a huge deal in the entirety of America, and the bond was being held by Adonis Vitale’s wife.

When Angelo pushes the thinner band onto my ring finger, he says, “Vittoria, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” Fidelity. Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it. Men in the Cosa Nostra don’t know the meaning of monogamy. I push the ring onto Angelo’s finger, repeating what he just said, but once again, I leave out the word ‘love.’ Father Parisi clears his throat before announcing, “In the sight of God and these witnesses, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Angelo leans down to kiss me, but at the last second, I turn my face, and his lips brush over my cheek.

Luca: “No, I’m not happy! I was the one with the most girlfriends in the group. How is Max the first one among the four of us to get married? And most of all, to Dr. Sinclair?” Ivan: “What matters is that I’ve won the bet. Your sports car’s mine now. (grinning emoji)” I frowned, typing quickly. “What bet?” Dante was the one who answered. Dante: “When you returned to this city, we were already discussing whether you’d honor your promise never to bother Dr. Sinclair again. We all knew how much you had sacrificed by staying away for five years.” Luca: “Ivan bet you’d still have a chance with Gazelle. I bet the obvious—she’s marrying your brother, the man she had been with for seven fucking year