My Mafia Husband And My Best Friend Stole My Novels & Stories

In loving him, I discovered a part of myself that thrived on the excitement and complexity of our connection, even as I continued to grapple with the fear of losing my cherished friend. This unexpected relationship brought both joy and inner conflict, marking a transformative chapter in my life that taught me about the resilience of the heart in the face of uncertainty. I might have overlooked mentioning a rather intriguing aspect of the situation that adds another layer to this already tangled narrative. It turns out that the mafia's second-in-command shares a unique and noteworthy connection with Shelly’s family. Beyond his role in the subterranean world of crime and power, he is, quite as

While I was risking my life fighting for my amnesiac husband, Lucio, he was in bed with my best friend. Turns out, his memory loss was nothing but a carefully crafted lie: One aimed at me. Three months ago, Lucio supposedly lost his memory in an explosion. As a result, he forgot our marriage, and me. To protect his position as the Don, I stepped up, taking on the most dangerous, most suicidal deals: the kind even his most loyal men wouldn't touch.

I held my head high and smiled until my face hurt, played the role of the perfect mafia wife, and tried not to think about the gun strapped to my thigh or the enemies watching from the shadows. Camila cornered me near the dessert table, her good arm reaching for a petit four while her injured one hung limp at her side. "Congratulations, dear. You've won. For now." Her smile was poisonous, all venom and hatred beneath the polite facade. "But marriages in our world don't last. Especially when built on lies and kidnapping and stolen inheritances." "You would know about stolen inheritances, wouldn't you?" I kept my voice low, sweet as the honey I'd eaten that morning. "How long did you think you

he said, raising an eyebrow, “two of my best guys are yours now. What exactly are you doing, woman?” “Please,” she said with a smirk. “They were never really yours. I made them laugh, and that was it, they were mine.” Lucas chuckled. “I believe it. They didn’t betray me, they just fell for you.” "Can't help being this charming," she said with a shrug before adding casually: "Oh, and change your security cameras; Michael hacked into them." Lucas swore under his breath before muttering: "That bastard always knows too much."

It’s unsettling, and my curiosity threatens to drag me down the wrong rabbit hole, but I force myself back to what matters. Hours later, I’ve narrowed it down to two possible ways to get away from my mafia husband. The first: the police. If I run to them, they’ll smuggle me out of the country to safety. I don’t want to get Aleksei in trouble, but unless I take that drastic step, there’s no way out.

I sneered, hiding the dessert bag away before he could steal more from the bag. Marcelo laughed, it was the most humourous laugh I have ever heard. He took a large bite of the cupcake and licked his lips. Smiling wickedly. "You really think being in the Mafia doesn't involve stealing, abduction, and all the good stuff?" "It's funny when you said the word 'abduction' with a straight face." I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "And who the fuck say those are good stuff?" "The Marino brothers." He shrugged, grinning.

“Sophia is married to me. I'm her husband and I have complete rights to know what happens in her life. You did not fetch her all these years. Then why now?” “Smart question. Since the last twenty five years I have been in the mafia. I did all sorts of illegal trade about which you would have got complete information. My love for Mariya was true. However after some time she came to know about the complexities in my profession and fled from my house.

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.

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

Drugged by my fiancé and my best friend. Dragged into the penthouse of New York’s most ruthless Mafia Don. But instead of panicking, my tight nerves finally let go. I'm finally home. My fiancé thought the drugs fried my brain. He grabbed my jaw roughly. "Listen up, bitch. Our gang's port smuggling route depends entirely on tonight!" "Word is Cassian's been looking for a woman with a specific butterfly birthmark. The one on your collarbone should fool him." "Serve him like the slut you are. Make him happy. Once the deal is done, I'll even toss you a few stacks of cash." My best friend stroked her red lips and giggled. "Yeah! Getting into the Don's bed is a blessing. Don't act like a prude. On