Novel & Cerita Vittorio Veneto Battleship

À dix-huit ans, Elena Conti croyait vivre un conte de fées. Héritière d’une puissante famille italienne déchue, elle tombe éperdument amoureuse de Matteo De Santis, le fils unique d’un homme redouté et intouchable. Leur mariage, précipité mais passionné, est en réalité encouragé par le père d’Elena, ruiné par ses dettes, prêt à tout pour sauver ce qu’il reste de leur fortune. Pendant sept ans, Elena se donne entièrement à Matteo, fermant les yeux sur son indifférence, ses humiliations silencieuses et ses absences répétées. Mais le jour de leur anniversaire de mariage, sa vie bascule : elle le découvre en train de la tromper. Brisée, elle prend une décision radicale et met fin à sa grossesse. Alors que tout semble perdu, un homme surgit dans sa vie : Vittorio De Santis, le père de Matteo. Chef de la mafia, magnat impitoyable, il lui propose de sauver sa mère et d’effacer ses dettes… à une seule condition : qu’elle devienne sa femme. Ce qu’Elena ignore, c’est que cette proposition n’est pas un hasard. Pris au piège entre un mari infidèle et un homme puissant qui la réclame corps et âme, Elena doit naviguer dans un monde où désir, pouvoir et vengeance s’entremêlent dangereusement. Car Vittorio ne fait pas d’amour : il possède. Mais Elena pourrait bien être la seule à faire vaciller cet homme impitoyable.

Lorsque mon père m'a demandé quel homme je choisirais pour un mariage arrangé, dans cette nouvelle vie, je n'ai pas choisi Léonardo. J'ai opté pour son frère aîné : Ivan Vittorio. Mon père a été étonné de ma réponse. Après tout, tout Chicago savait que Léonardo et moi étions des amis d'enfance et que je l'avais poursuivi pendant dix ans. En tant que fille aînée de la famille Leavitt, mon nom figurait déjà à côté du sien sur la liste des mariages arrangés entre les familles. Tout le monde était persuadé que notre union était écrite dans le destin. J'ai souri tristement en repensant à ma vie précédente : j'avais en effet épousé Léonardo comme je l'avais toujours voulu, mais après notre mariage, il ne m'a jamais touchée. Je pensais qu'il avait une maladie honteuse et j'avais tout fait pour la dissimuler. Jusqu'au jour de notre sixième anniversaire de mariage, où, par hasard, j'ai ouvert le coffre-fort de son bureau et découvert qu'il y avait des photos de lui avec ma sœur adoptive, celle que j'avais fait adopter par mon père. Ils avaient même un enfant illégitime de deux ans. Leur photo de famille ressemblait à celle d'un foyer heureux. Ce jour-là, j'avais compris qu'il n'avait aucune maladie honteuse, mais qu'il ne m'avait jamais considérée comme sa femme. Plus tard, pour se débarrasser de moi, il s'était allié avec ma sœur et m'avait fait tuer. Maintenant que je suis revenue dans cette nouvelle vie, j'ai choisi de les laisser vivre leur bonheur. Mais lorsque je suis entrée dans l'église, vêtue de ma robe de mariée, et que je tenais la main d'Ivan, Léonardo est arrivé en courant, armé d'un pistolet. Il m'a crié comme un fou : « Mélanie ! » Sa voix était rauque, presque déchirée, « Tu oses l'épouser ? »

“Brother, I’ve decide to get a divorce.” There was only a moment’s dead silence on the line. Then, Gilbert Cross’s voice came through, “You just married Vittorio yesterday!” I pondered it in my mind, a bitter smile touching my lips. It wasn't yesterday. It had been exactly 6,209 days. In my previous life,for the seventeen years of my marriage to Vittorio Croft, we were indeed the picture of perfect harmony. However, our fragile illusion came into pieces the day my older sister passed away from a critical illness. Grief-stricken, Vittorio suddenly fell severely ill himself. When he finally woke up from his coma, his assistant asked, “Sir, what about Silvia Cross?” Vittorio hadn't even blinked. He replied in a flat, indifferent tone, “Don't bother with her. She was originally nothing but a burden. I married her so that I could stay by her sister's side forever — if not as a lover, then as family.” Standing right outside the door, clutching a tray of warm soup, I laughed until tears streamed down my face. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself reborn on the very first morning after our wedding. We had just held the lavish ceremony, but the official paperwork hadn't been registered yet. I knew exactly what I had to do. Without a second thought, I took a pen and crossed out my name on the application form. In its place, I quickly wrote down Silvia Croft. From this moment forward, my past was buried, and I would never cross paths with Vittorio again.

Luca Moretti is a thief with one rule—never hurt anyone. But when a desperate mistake ties him to ruthless Mafia king Vittorio Russo, that rule shatters. What begins as a stolen night turns into a dangerous obsession. Vittorio doesn’t want revenge—he wants ownership. Trapped in a gilded cage of power, control, and dark desire, Luca is forced to choose between his freedom and the only family he has left—his younger brother. But the deeper Luca falls into Vittorio’s world, the more dangerous the truth becomes. Because the man he’s starting to crave… may be tied to the very tragedy that destroyed his life. And in a world where love is weakness, falling for a monster might be the deadliest mistake of all.

[DARK ROMANCE STORY] "Who sent you to me?" the man asked. His fingers traced every inch of Natalie's beautiful face. "No one." She remained expressionless. "Liar!" Mr. Vittorio grabbed Natalie's long hair with such force that she winced in pain. Tears finally dripped from her eyes. Natalie thought being imprisoned by her ex and losing her modeling career was the most horrible thing in her life. However, she was wrong. Being auctioned off and bought by Don Vittorio was far more horrifying than anything else!

Alessandra Marino, 35, runs New York's most powerful criminal organization from a penthouse forty-two floors above a city she owns. She has built this empire with one purpose: to avenge her father Vittorio, murdered seventeen years ago in a warehouse on Fifth Street when Alessandra was eighteen. She has a scar above her heart from that night — a knife meant for him. She has never once questioned the direction of her war. The night she executes a traitor named Theron, she receives a call from an unknown woman who claims to know why Vittorio really died. The woman is Giuliana Torelli — daughter of the man who pulled the trigger, made to watch as a fourteen-year-old, carrying the truth for seventeen years while waiting for someone ready to hear it. What Giuliana reveals dismantles everything Alessandra believed: Vittorio wasn't killed for his power. He was killed because he was going to go federal — because his wife was pregnant with a second child and he wanted to run, to be ordinary, to give his family a life outside the empire. Thomas Accardi, the man who married Alessandra's mother after Vittorio's death, was the architect of the murder. And Accardi has always known about the second child. Her name is Mara. She is twenty-eight years old, living in Williamsburg, and completely unaware that her entire life is a lie — or that Accardi has just wired a hundred thousand dollars to a fixer named James Sullivan.

I was the Falcone family's top consigliere. Their brain. And today, I was walking away—handing over the books to every legitimate business I ran, severing my final tie. My protégé couldn't understand. "You're the future of this family, Aurelia. You can't just leave." I shook my head with a bitter smile. They didn't know. I'd been secretly married to the Don, Vittorio Falcone, for three years. I thought my looks, my mind, and everything I gave him would be enough to win all of his love. A hit at the docks three months ago showed me the truth. I took thirteen bullets. Emergency. I needed the family surgeon—which required Vittorio's direct order. I called him over a dozen times. But when he finally answered, all I heard was a soft, breathless voice on his end. "Vittorio, we haven't cut my birthday cake. Will you hold my hand and cut it with me?" That voice. My best friend. The woman Vittorio once had a crush on. Carina. In the safe house, weak from blood loss, I dug the bullet out myself and had one of my men rush me to a family clinic. Right before they wheeled me into the OR, Vittorio burst in—carrying Carina. Twisted ankle. Needed a doctor. Now. My surgeon was dragged away. The antibiotics came too late. The wound got infected. I fought for my life for a week. When I woke up, I stared at my phone. Not a single message. The tears finally came. I understood. I was just the woman he'd been forced to marry after he was drugged and slept with me. A scandal averted. All he cared about was my value and his reputation. And me? The secret princess of the Rossi family, who gave up everything to build his empire. All for nothing. So I prepared four parting gifts. A celebration of our mutual destruction. Then he'd never see me again.

The contractions were ripping me in two. My vision was going dark. My husband, Don Vittorio, the man who ruled Chicago, squeezed my hand. His dark eyes burned with love. "Just a little longer, mia cara. You'll meet our baby soon." Sweat poured down my face. I still found the strength to smile for him. Then a nurse walked in. She held a syringe. I thought it was to stop the pain. But Vittorio’s hand fell away. He took a single step back. The needle sank into my arm. I heard Vittorio’s voice. It was cold steel. "Dose her carefully. She holds on until midnight. Not a minute sooner. Not until after Ornella delivers." And then I knew. He thought I married him for the money. He was stopping my labor. All for a sick Falcone family rule: the first son born is the next heir. Pain tore through me. I reached for him. Tears streamed down my face. I begged him to stop. He bit his lip. His voice was pure ice. "My brother is dead. Ornella carries his only heir. You will do as you are told. You and your child will not steal his birthright." The drug hit my veins. The violent squeeze in my belly, like some invisible hand, just… stopped.

Tout ce qu'Ellis Barker voulait, c'était rembourser la dernière tranche de l'hypothèque de la maison dont elle et son frère Jason ont hérité et mettre ainsi fin aux dettes de son frère. Du moins jusqu'à ce qu'elle arrive à la banque et que son destin croise celui de Vittorio Amorielle, un mafieux prêt à tout pour obtenir ce qu'il veut, et à partir de ce moment-là, c'est Ellis. Et c'est grâce aux dettes de Jason que Vittorio a pu non seulement acheter Ellis, mais aussi l'épouser. Mais sauront-ils en assumer les conséquences ?

Las contracciones me estaban matando. Se me oscurecía la vista. Mi esposo, Don Vittorio Falcone, el hombre que gobernaba Chicago, me apretó la mano. Sus ojos oscuros ardían de amor. —Solo un poco más, mi amor. Pronto conocerás a nuestro bebé. El sudor me corría por la cara. Aun así, encontré fuerzas para sonreírle. Entonces entró una enfermera. Traía una jeringa. Creí que era para calmarme el dolor. Pero Vittorio me soltó la mano. Dio un solo paso atrás. La aguja se me hundió en el brazo. Vittorio habló con frialdad de acero. —Dosifíquela con cuidado. Que aguante hasta la medianoche. Ni un minuto antes. Solo después de que Ornella dé a luz. Entonces lo entendí. Creía que me había casado con él por dinero. Estaba deteniendo mi trabajo de parto. Todo por una regla enferma de la familia Falcone: el primer hijo varón que naciera sería el siguiente heredero. El dolor me atravesó. Estiré la mano hacia él. Las lágrimas me corrían por la cara. Le rogué que se detuviera. Se mordió el labio. Habló con frialdad. —Mi hermano murió. Ornella lleva en el vientre a su único heredero. Harás lo que se te ordene. Tú y tu bebé no le quitarán su derecho como heredero. El fármaco me corrió por las venas. La presión violenta en mi vientre, como una mano invisible, se detuvo.