The Italian Heartthrob Novels & Stories

"For real this time." My shoulders tensed as he started walking around me, that evil as fuck grin plastered on his face. "Like I said, I heard about the struggle between you and the Polish, but that's not all I heard. A little birdie told me that the stone hearted Andre DiMarco, Don of the entire Italian mafia was so close to capturing the head of the Braterstwo but came back for some girl. A girl!"

My life was reduced to digits. “Hundred.” Gasps rippled. My eyes darted to the front row, and my blood iced. Dante Moretti. The name alone could silence a room. He sat casually, one leg crossed, his hand raised in lazy dominance. His sadistic cold blue eyes lingering on me with lust, his dark brown hair styled neatly. Everyone knows him—the most feared mafia in Italy. Brutal. Merciless. A handsome devil cloaked in silk suits. No. No, not him. Anyone but him.

“You were enjoying yourself in Italy.” That made me smile again. “Not exactly.” He didn’t push. But I saw the question there. So I answered it anyway. “I found out I was betrothed to someone.” That got his full attention. “Who?” “Leo wants me to give him a chance.” His expression didn’t explode. It didn’t need to. “Mafia?” I shook my head. “Matteo. He is normal.” That landed differently. “Did you go out with him?”

I walk into the hug he spread his arms out for, he feels warm against my body. “You look absolutely stunning, how do I say that in Italian?” “Hai un aspectto incredibile.” He repeats after me with a funny accent that brings a smile to my lips. “Forgive my accent, Italian is one language I never really got the hang of.” “It’s fine Nickolas, you sounded okay by the way.” I move out of embrace and got a good look at him. His dark, tousled hair frames his face in a way that seems effortlessly perfect, and his deep, almond-shaped eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief. His olive skin glows under the warm sunlight and his strong jawline speaks of determination and resilience.

“Hm?” Michael paused for a second before laughing softly. His laughter sounded like wind chimes—clear and ridiculously pleasant to listen to. “He’s a top-tier heartthrob devil,” I silently concluded. “Every single thing you say catches me off guard.” Michael reached over and plucked an obvious feather off my shoulder that had apparently drifted over from who-knew-where. “Oh right, bro, I still haven’t added you yet!” I immediately pulled out my phone and held up my contact QR code for him to scan.

“Yes.” “Why do you sound scared?” “Because he thinks I’m straight and in love with him,” she said flatly. I stared at her. “Cate.” “He’s hot and Italian and my mother approves,” she said. “We’ll dive more into this later.” And like the universe heard his name, Matteo appeared. They were couple goals on all social media platforms….and I honestly saw why. He was tall, beautiful in a masculine way with a Beige designer top that screamed generational wealth.

Avena arrogantly instructed Aurora, who simply nodded her head in agreement and went over to the men’s department. ** “I cannot begin to tell you how much I already hate her at this moment!” Leonardo told his friend over the phone, as he fitted on his custom-made Italian suit. His night had not gone the way he had planned it, in less than a day he would be getting married to a woman of his parent’s choice, so much for ‘freedom to marry whom you want’. His night was further disrupted by the memories of that pretty woman, the one with the cocoa skin, big brown eyes and full lips.

His sweet, masculine scent assaulted my senses and I could see the sharp features on his face, more clearly, making him appear even more dashing, up close. His calloused hands felt so gentle, as they cupped my cheeks, and at this point, I couldn't help standing up on my tiptoes to lean even closer to him. I couldn't quite understand what was going on with me, and I sure as hell couldn't help it. His lips suddenly grazed my ear in a soft, sensual manner, and I swear I had goosebumps all over. "Brandon is my name, carino." He whispered in that Italian accent that made my legs wobbly.

I wondered why she would rush into my room, considering she wasn't a bodyguard. "I will be back with your drinks," she said and walked out. "Wasn't that weird?" I said, and Hailey nodded in agreement. Before I could dwell on it, Hailey and Michelle dropped a bombshell. The hottest bachelor in town, Alessandro Leonardo De Luca, was officially off the market, having just announced his marriage an hour ago. I wasn't particularly concerned, but they were squealing with excitement, and soon enough, they were showing me pictures of him on social media. His name sounded intimidating, and when I saw his picture, I couldn't help but agree with Hailey's assessment that he was incredibly handsome.

He hung up without another word, dismissing the weight of an international offer like it was nothing. His arms circled my waist before I could move further, pulling me back against the iron wall of his chest. His lips brushed the curve of my neck, voice low and dangerous. “Seems like Italy is about to become the axis the world spins on.” I tilted my head, smiling faintly at our reflection in the mirror. “That’s why you need to tighten your grip, amore. Every Don, every boss, every stray soldier, they move only when you allow it. Italy must bend to you, not the other way around.”