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Mafia Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
My Neighbor's Wife

My Neighbor's Wife

"You're a creepy bastard." His eyes smolder me and his answering grin is nothing short of beautiful. Deadly. "Yet you hunger for me. Tell me, this appetite of yours, does it always tend toward 'creepy bastards'?" **** Widower and ex-boss to the Mafia, Zefiro Della Rocca, has an unhealthy fixation on the woman nextdoor. It began as a coincidence, growing into mere curiosity, and soon, it was an itch he couldn't ignore, like a quick fix of crack for an addict. He didn't know her name, but he knew every inch of her skin, how it flushed when she climaxed, her favourite novel and that every night she contemplated suicide. He didn't want to care, despising his rapt fascination of the woman. She was in love with her abusive husband. She was married, bound by a contract to the Bratva's hitman. She was off-limits. But when Zefiro wanted something, it was with an intensity that bordered on madness. He obsessed, possessed, owned. There'd be bloodshed if he touched her, but the sight of blood always did fascinate him. * When Susanna flees from her husband, she stumbles right into the arms of her devilishly handsome neighbour with a brooding glare. He couldn't stand her, but she needed him, if she was ever going to escape her husband who now wanted her dead. Better the devil you know than the angel you don't. She should have recalled that before hopping into Zefiro's car and letting him whisk her away to Italy. Maybe then, she wouldn't have started an affair with him. He was the only man who touched her right, and the crazy man took no small pains in ensuring he would be the last.
The Assassin's obsession (Just a kiss)

The Assassin's obsession (Just a kiss)

"I dare you to kiss any man in this club, Bluey," Sasha's friend remarked with a smirk, causing my heart to skip a beat instantly. This moment reaffirmed my decision to avoid games like truth or dare, I reflected as I rose from my seat and walked away from the table where Sasha and her companions were gathered. I had expressed my reluctance to attend this club, but she had insisted that it would be a pleasant experience. Now, it appeared that I was on the verge of sharing my first kiss with a stranger. "Come on, Bluey. You are no longer a child; you are 21 years old, for goodness' sake. You can do this. Simply select any man in the club, kiss him, and then walk away." She offered reassurance, and I shot her a glare before turning away. As I walked around slowly, I observed that most of the men either were engaged in passionate embraces with women or appeared quite intoxicated. After searching for a while, my gaze landed on a man. He was seated quietly in a dimly lit part of the club, sipping from a glass of beer. I approached him without realizing it. When he sensed my presence, he looked up at me with an expression that was quite detached. He was undeniably handsome, adorned with tattoos on his arms and possessing striking green eyes; however, I couldn't help but notice a chill-inducing coldness in his gaze. I turned once more to glance at the girls, who winked at me, signaling for me to kiss him. I glanced once more at the unusual man, who continued to watch me with an icy gaze, and instinctively bit my lip. With a deep sigh, I leaned in and kissed the stranger, to my astonishment, he returned the gesture. I quickly pulled away and stammered an apology, saying, "I am truly sorry, sir," before hastily exiting the club without looking back. Had I realized at that moment that this would become the most significant mistake of my life and the beginning of my troubles, I might have acted differently. Meet Bluey Johnson: a strikingly beautiful young woman with captivating blue eyes. She is well-known throughout the school as the "hottie" due to her alluring presence. If one were to illustrate the figure 8 shape, Bluey Johnson would serve as the perfect example. However, her defining trait is her shyness; she is an introvert who seldom engages in conversation, which has earned her the nickname "the hot introvert." When she was compelled to visit the club by her overly adventurous best friend, she accepted a challenge to kiss a stranger. Unbeknownst to her, that stranger turned out to be the dangerously skilled assassin. Who is he, you may ask? Allow me to introduce Dwayne Knights. He is an exceptionally tall and attractive man, distinguished by his striking green eyes. He is often referred to by ominous nicknames such as "the Grim Reaper" or "the Terminator," as he has gained a notorious reputation in the community as a lethal assassin. Should one require someone eliminated, a simple call to Knights will result in swift action. His demeanor is notably aloof, and he seldom smiles, except during his lethal endeavors. He has remarked that the scent of blood is, in fact, stimulating to him. What consequences arise when the innocent Bluey kisses him? It appears he is now determined to claim her for himself.
One Night with Mr. King

One Night with Mr. King

"You think you can just leave without a trace after what happened that night?" His hands pinned her arms above her head, his piercing blue eyes boring into hers. "W-what do you mean?" she stuttered, his scent reminding her of that night-the night that had changed her life completely. "What do I mean? Are you seriously asking me that, woman? If your brain can't recall how we burned together on that bed, how about I remind you right here?" His face was dangerously close as he growled into her ear. Her eyes widened. He meant it. Every single word. He was the king of the entertainment world, after all. "Let me go," she demanded stubbornly, her voice barely audible. He let out a low, dark chuckle that sent a chill down her spine. "Let you go? Oh, I'll let you go, Tatiana. But not until you understand the consequences of crossing paths with me." •••••••••• In the world of the entertainment industry, we see constant change and creativity. Trends come and go, as do collaborations between artists and producers. This world can make anyone wish to be a part of it-it is said to be inspiring and enjoyable... Meanwhile, that's only on the surface. The same world is filled with deceit, betrayal, fake love, ruthless competition, toxic fans who could ruin you, suicide, and dissatisfaction... This world is mostly dominated by men. How can a woman, hurt by this world, face it-especially when she had a night and her life tangled with the king of them all?
Resisting my Possessive Mafia Husband

Resisting my Possessive Mafia Husband

Warning: 18+ content for mature audiences. Book Excerpt: Donovan's POV Her enchanting green eyes that were alive with passion the day I told her she could go shopping are pale with only despair dancing in them. "Oh, I'm quite aware of my duties as your wife, Mr. Castellano." My eyes darken at the formal use of my name. I've told her to stop doing that. It feels wrong. Like she doesn't belong to me. I clench my jaw as I wait for her to finish her sentence but her cold smile widens. "Ah, you don't like when I call you Mr. Castellano, right? Too bad. You can't force my mouth to say what you want to hear." Blood rushes to my groin as her words settle in the tensed air between us. Does she realize the gravity of what she'd just said? Does she know she'd moaned my name while I had her wet cunt in her mouth? Does she know how needy she'd been when she wanted me to take her even though she wasn't awake? And is she aware that I know how bad she wants me in her dreams while she pretends in real life to hate me? She glares up at me while I seethe, looking down at her. "It's Donovan," I say darkly, resisting the pull of her lips and maintaining my vision at her eyes. "Mr. Castellano," she retorts. My face draws closer, getting ready to give her a punishing kiss but a harsh sound fills the room and then I realize, belatedly, that I'd just been slapped as my face swings to the side, turning away from Eliana. Eliana slapped me. Luis Santario's daughter just slapped me. Just like her father had done many nights ago. Shame fills me but it's quickly trampled upon by hot, violent anger. How dare she? How dare the whore?! Her cheek instantly goes red with the imprints of my fingers. Blood trickles from her nose and her hair that was up in a messy bun scatters all around her face. Eliana's head remains bowed as the blood from her nose drips onto her white bedcovers. ***** Eliana's POV I know I'm signing my death warrant by provoking him like this but what else can I do when he's already planned to kill me? I could just as well make it easier for him to by getting on his nerves. If I don't push him away, I'm scared I'll start to blur the lines between my dreams and reality. The Donovan in my dreams is drastically different from the one in real life. If my plans to escape from this marriage don't work, I may end up dead or worst, in love with Donovan Castellano. And I'd rather die now than to fall in love with him and die later. *** Many years ago, Donovan Castellano went through something that irrevocably changed him for the worst, and Eliana's father was to blame. Years later, Eliana's father dies. Eliana doesn't know her father's dark past or why Donovan Castellano bought her and then married her. But she knows he's out for blood and wants to kill her, but how long will she continue to defend herself when the way he touches her and kisses her in her dreams is starting to blur the lines between reality and fiction? Will Donovan succeed in finally getting revenge on Eliana for what her father did to him and will Eliana succeed in resisting her possessive mafia husband's advances even when he says he wants her dead? Read on to find out.