Melissa Moretti

She was supposed to be dead. Seven years ago, Aria Moretti vanished the night her entire mafia family was slaughtered in a coordinated massacre that shook New York to its core. The world mourned the loss of the Moretti empire. Her enemies celebrated. Everyone assumed the sheltered nineteen year old princess had burned with the rest of them. They were wrong. Aria survived pregnant, alone, and running for her life. She fled to Lagos, gave birth in hiding, and spent seven years becoming someone her father never allowed her to be: dangerous. Now she’s back. Not for closure. Not for peace. For revenge. But the moment she steps foot in Manhattan, she collides with the one man she never expected to see again Dante Russo, the soldier she loved and was forced to betray to survive. He’s no longer the loyal soldier from her father’s organization. He’s a self-made billionaire by day and the city’s most powerful crime lord by night. Ruthless. Untouchable. Still devastatingly attractive. He demands she marry him. Not for love for survival. Dante needs a wife to legitimize his expansion into international markets. Aria needs his protection and access to his network to hunt her family’s killer. Six months. One contract. No feelings. No lies. Except Aria is hiding the biggest lie of all.

Sold at an auction event to pay her stepfather’s debt, Elara enters the world of Dante Moretti– a powerful Mafia king hiding a fatal illness from the world. He buys her for one purpose: to carry the heir his fiancée cannot give him. Elara wants to protect her sister. Dante wants to protect his legacy before his time runs out. Two broken lives collide, and slowly, their little deal turns into something more.

Blood dripped from the edge of Damian Moretti’s knife when he first saw her.Adriana Rossi should have turned away—any sane woman would. Instead, she met his stare across the bloodstained marble floor, her chin tilted like a challenge.Two families. One war. A love carved out of violence.“You shouldn’t be here,” Damian murmured, voice low, dangerous.Adriana’s lips curved. “Neither should you.”

Sophia Blake never expected her job as a teacher to pull her into a contract marriage with Luca Moretti, a cold and calculating Mafia boss whose only weakness in this world is his only daughter, Clara. As tensions rise and a deadly rival begins to close in, Sophia becomes the unexpected support in Luca’s life, and the one person who might save his family and his heart. But in a world of betrayal and bloodshed, will their love survive? Or will they get eaten up by the turmoil?

I thought he was a ghost from my past, but he came back with a marriage certificate and a billion‑dollar debt. He says I have to pay with my body—and my voice. “You’re in breach of contract, Mrs. Moretti.” Seven years ago, Dante Moretti was a broken sound engineer who broke my heart and vanished. Today, he’s the ruthless head of a global empire—and he just walked backstage to claim what’s his. Me. He brings a marriage certificate I don’t remember signing and a list of clauses that turn my world‑famous life into a gilded cage. He owns my label. He owns my jet. And he claims he owns my voice. Dragged to a fortress in Sicily, I’m trapped between a secret past I can’t outrun and a “husband” who looks at me with equal parts hunger and hate. Dante swears he’s the only thing standing between me and the monsters who want to buy my soul. But as the line between protection and possession blurs, I have to wonder: Is Dante Moretti saving me from the fire… or is he the one holding the match? He’s my greatest sin. My biggest secret. And now, he might be my only hope. ---

Dante Moretti, the ruthless Billionaire CEO, hungers for power and control. Cold, calculated, he sends shivers down his rivals' spines with his cold, calculated way into any business deal that might pop up in his way. But inside the steely exterior of this man, a traumatic past torments him to have left him detached and numb as regards love. His goal is simple: solidify his control and paramountcy and build on an empire. Lyra Caine grew up privileged in a family that had disintegrated; the fortune of her father, Richard Caine, once a strong king of finance, had shrunk due to a number of bad investments. She needed to be married off to Dante Moretti, a man rumored never to have shied away from getting ruthless in whatever business dealings he had, so that their name would not be utterly ruined. Lyra had lived her whole life by what this great shadow of a father expected from her: fragile, with this inner fire barely apparent in herself. But here is the kicker that makes it even more twisted: Dante isn't marrying Lyra out of love or even because of business needs. He has an ulterior motive linked to her father's long-buried secrets, one that could totally unravel her family should it come to light.

Her back slammed into the wall, Dante’s hand pinning hers high above her head, his mouth hovering close enough to steal her breath. His voice was a husky growl, low and lethal. “You think you can defy me, Bianca?” She smirked, arching into him, her nails dragging across his chest. “Defy you? I own the game, Dante.” Their lips crashed...violent, hungry, desperate. His grip was bruising, her body pressed against his with ruthless possession. Every kiss tasted of war. Every touch was a betrayal. Every moan, a fight for dominance neither was willing to lose. Bianca Moretti isn’t just a woman; she’s the She Mafia. Beautiful. Deadly. Untouchable. Dante Moretti, the ruthless Mafia King, should be her greatest enemy… yet he’s also the one man who matches her cruelty and consumes her with forbidden desire. But lust is the most dangerous weapon in a world where loyalty is scarce. And enemies wait in the shadows; Betty Mordecai, venomous and relentless, and Andriena, the lover who turned traitor, ready to tear Bianca apart piece by piece. Now Bianca and Dante must decide: join forces to rule or destroy each other in the crossfire. Because in the Mafia, love isn’t romance. It’s war. It’s obsession. And it always comes with blood.

When the SAT scores are out, I've scored 400 out of 1600. That's because I never wrote anything on my exam papers. My mom goes crazy, whereas my younger sister, Melinda Bolton, bursts into tears. But I just laugh at them instead. In my previous life, Melinda had formed a pact with the score-swapping system. That was how she swapped our SAT scores. She became the top scorer that all prestigious universities fought to recruit. I, the valedictorian of my year, not only got into a trade school, but I also got expelled from my previous high school. Melinda had the gall to comfort me. "Didn't you call yourself a genius, Melissa? Trade schools are very popular right now. In the future, you'll secure a job at a factory out there!" In this life, I spend my exam hours sleeping in my seat the whole time. Melinda wants to swap her scores, right? Then, let's do it properly!

Three months since my husband, Julian Moretti, disappeared. I walked into his favorite den, the grief so deep it stole the air from my lungs. I just wanted to breathe him in, to find any trace of him that was left. Then I heard it. A familiar laugh. And the soft moan of a woman. Through a crack in the door, I saw him. My husband, the man "missing" for three months, had his hand tangled in another woman's hair. "Baby, just a little longer," he said. "Soon as I siphon enough cash from the family's books, we're gone. You and me." In his arms was Bianca, from the Rosso family. "What about your wife?" she purred. "Let her play the grieving widow. She's nothing without me anyway." My fists clenched. The world went quiet, my blood turning to ice. The next day, I put the word out to the entire Family. "I'm holding a memorial mass for my husband." At the service, he stormed in, a ghost returned from the grave, roaring that he was alive and there to take back what was his. But I was standing next to his uncle, Dante Moretti, and all I did was stare him down. "Then explain," I said, my voice cutting through the silence. "Explain the woman. Explain the money. Explain your betrayal... to the Family. And to me."

Five years into my marriage to the Don, Ives Moretti, he left me for dead during a shootout to get his mistress, Isabella, to safety. I woke up three days later in a private hospital room. No apology. Ives was cold. “You’re my wife. You knew the risks. Stop being so dramatic.” Then, he added, “Isabella’s different. She’s fragile. She needed me.” That was followed by three months of the silent treatment. Like always, he expected me to be the one to break, to come crawling back begging for forgiveness. Three months later, I handed the Irish deal to Isabella on a silver platter. The big one I’d spent half a year building myself. Ives thought it was a peace offering. He smiled, a rare, genuine thing these days. “I knew you’d come around. As a reward, we’ll go to Vegas. I know you’ve always wanted to go.” The next day, Isabella whined about being bored, and he broke his promise. He took her to Vegas instead. Told me it was “urgent family business.” This time, I didn’t cry. Didn’t make a scene. Ives was pleased I was being so understanding. He had no idea I was already cutting all ties to the Moretti family. That he’d already signed the divorce papers. I was free.