Yakuza Romance Novels Novels & Stories

James sat in his grandmother's cozy living room, listening intently as she read him the stories of Eli, the vampire who had faced insurmountable odds and emerged victorious through sheer determination and the power of love. James had always loved hearing these stories, but today they held a special meaning for him.

Or he would forever regret it. Kara looked at him, confused. She did not quite get what Nico Bernardi was hinting at. “Club Roman had preyed on many innocent young girls for years. They capitalize on the backing of an equally immoral society to stay afloat.” Kara smiled bitterly. “Like me.” Nico Bernardi agreed. “Yes. They preyed on women like you. But we can remedy that. We can take them down.” “What do you mean?” Kara stopped breathing.

I had to raise my chin to look him in the eyes, empty, cold, fierce. I nodded and looked at the next one. He stepped forward. “Rocco Guera.” Dark hair, lean muscle, and a grave voice that sent shivers down my spine. They would do. “I’m hungryyyy…” Juliana whined behind me. I intertwined our hands, pulling her toward the kitchen as Rafe and Rocco carried her extensive luggage upstairs. “Let’s go see what Claudia made.” After stuffing myself with Claudia’s homemade cornetto alla crema and thick hot chocolate, the horrors of the last days subsided.

“Come on, you know she’s not my type. I’m into redheads with green eyes. Your woman does not fit that description—not even close.” There was something about redheads that drove him crazy. I didn’t understand why he had such a fascination with physical appearance. I cleared my throat and turned to a more serious conversation. “Did Nikita get anything out of those men we captured?” “They are not Yakuza, that’s for sure.” Fuck, if it wasn’t the Yakuza or the Italians, who else was attacking me and my territory? I didn’t think of another enemy besides the Yakuza and the Cosa Nostra.

I ended up seated between Rosa and Nico, across from me sat Dante. I'd only seen him briefly at the wedding reception yesterday. He'd been in the corner with some other men, drinking and looking bored with the whole thing. Now I got a much better look and immediately understood why people found him intimidating. He was identical to Rafael in terms of features, same bone structure and coloring, but everything else was different. Where Rafael had been polished and controlled, Dante was rough. There was a scar cutting through his left eyebrow from something violent. His hands were scarred too, knuckles that had been broken and healed wrong. He wore his grief like armor, face completely shut dow

She dumped about ten BL manga on top of the porn magazines. Ryan asked, “What are those? I’ve never seen them before.” Ryan, the super conservative of the bunch. I was surprised his eyes didn’t pop out of their sockets when he saw the porn magazines with naked girls on the covers. Jess said proudly, “They’re Yaoi manga. Have you never read them before? They tell love stories between two men, or more.” She laughed. “The artwork is very beautiful.” She said dreamily, “I particularly love the stepbrothers trope.” She turned to look at me meaningfully. “The forbidden love. The hidden feelings. The angst. Oh, it’s just so interesting and such a turn-on.”

I blurted curtly, peering intently into his eyes as he stared back at me. Slowly, he nodded and exhaled heavily. "I really wish it was a vampire girl that you saved from being raped. You have come across many in dangerous situations of both rape and assault, and you ignore them and walk away." He sighed, and every single word from his mouth was just pouring down like heavy rainfall inside my head. I closed my eyes tight, trying to shut away his voice, but I couldn't. Instead, they were echoing, and I was feeling every damn truth in them. Was it too obvious that I was feeling something special and different for that wolf girl?

My expression remained unchanged. I pulled out a handkerchief from my suit jacket and cleaned my face. “Then you should also know, Romano… there are worse fates than death.” I leaned in, voice low. “And here’s something you should know about the Japanese mafia. They have their ways of making people talk. Ways that are more gruesome than ours.” I stayed calm and collected, despite the raging fury inside me. “There are more ways to make you wish for death,” I said coldly, watching Romano’s smirk break.

The cool midnight air greeted him with the fragrance of roses. He felt the relief instantly, his anxiety dissipating, blown away by the night breeze, leaving only the scent of roses clinging to him like a permanent lover. For a ruthless mafia like him, who’d taken countless lives in the seedy underbelly of Chicago, he couldn’t understand why he found roses to be so comforting. They were such fragile plants, their petals so delicate, like humans whom he could easily crush with his palms. Still, whatever it was, it always did the trick. The scent calmed him down and he relaxed.