Mafia Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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His Fake Heir, My Undeniable Power
After fifteen years of marriage and a brutal battle with infertility, I finally saw two pink lines on a pregnancy test. This baby was my victory, the heir that would finally secure my place as the wife of mob capo Marco Vitiello. I planned to announce it at his mother's party, a triumph over the matriarch who saw me as nothing but a barren field. But before I could celebrate, my friend sent me a video. The headline read: "MOB CAPO MARCO VITIELLO'S PASSIONATE NIGHTCLUB KISS!" It was him, my husband, devouring a woman who looked like a younger, fresher version of me. Hours later, Marco stumbled home, drunk and reeking of another woman's perfume. He complained about his mother begging him for an heir, completely unaware of the secret I held. Then my phone lit up with a text from an unknown number. "Your husband slept with my girl. We need to talk." It was signed by Dante Moretti, the ruthless Don of our rival family. The meeting with Dante was a nightmare. He showed me another video. This time, I heard my husband's voice, telling the other woman, "I love you. Elara... that's just business." My fifteen years of loyalty, of building his empire, of taking a bullet for him-all dismissed as "just business." Dante didn't just reveal the affair; he showed me proof that Marco was already stealing our shared assets to build a new life with his mistress. Then, he made me an offer. "Divorce him," he said, his eyes cold and calculating. "Join me. We'll build an empire together and destroy him."/1/107723/coverorgin.jpg?v=c8398055f990bafeccf4fef8c7419381&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn From Fire: The Mafia King's Bride
The fire that melted my skin should have been the end of my story. I had been the perfect mafia wife. I obeyed my father, I married Dante Genovese, and I even birthed his daughter. But in return, he locked us in a safehouse and lit a match. He watched from behind a steel door as I burned to ash, all because his mistress, Sofia, was jealous and wanted me out of the picture. My own brother had spiked my champagne to ensure I was too weak to fight back. I died screaming, my lungs filling with smoke and the scent of my husband's betrayal. But when I gasped awake, I wasn't in hell. I was in the bridal suite at the Ritz-Carlton. My hands were smooth. My skin was unblemished. The date on the digital clock burned red in the darkness. It was three years ago. It was the night of our engagement. The night it all began. Dante was in the bathroom right now, humming contentedly as he washed off the scent of his mistress before coming to claim his "lawful prize." In my past life, I waited for him. I let him take me, thinking my submission would earn his love. Not this time. I didn't run to the lobby for help. My family had sold me out. Instead, I took the elevator to the Penthouse floor. To the territory of the Outfit. To the door of Matteo Moretti—The Butcher. The only man ruthless enough to make Dante tremble. When the door opened, revealing a man with eyes like ice and a gun in his hand, I didn't flinch. I fell to my knees and looked up at the monster who could save me. "I am Elena Vitiello," I whispered, the drug in my veins setting my blood on fire. "And I have a proposition."/0/97868/coverorgin.jpg?v=648ec80b8bedbdb22a15aaf15cb135a2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Zero Score: My Escape from the Mafia Don
For three years, I was the wife of Don Dante Moretti. But our marriage was a transaction, and my heart was the price. I kept a ledger, deducting points for every time he chose her—his first love, Isabella—over me. When the score reached zero, I would be free. After he abandoned me on a roadside to rush to Isabella's side, I was hit by a car. I woke up in the ER, bleeding, only to hear a nurse shout that I was two months pregnant. A tiny, impossible hope flared in my chest. But as the doctors scrambled to save me, they patched my husband through on speakerphone. His voice was cold and absolute. “Isabella’s condition is critical,” he ordered. “Not one drop of the reserve blood is to be touched until she is safe. I don't care who else needs it.” I lost the baby. Our child, sacrificed by its own father. I later learned Isabella had only suffered a minor cut. The blood was just a “precautionary measure.” The tiny flicker of hope was extinguished, and something inside me snapped, clean and final. The debt was paid. Alone in the silence, I made the last entry in my ledger, bringing the score to zero. I signed the divorce papers I had already prepared, left them on his desk, and walked out of his life forever./0/67363/coverorgin.jpg?v=0022b2d027af56263ddc71b783daf710&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Veils Of Darkness
Trigger warning: This novel contents some dark parts and is not for faint heart hence it's for mature audience only! Vincenzo Romano! A ruthless and fierce Italian Mafia king, who's aura screams danger.who craves for blood and fear in people's eyes gives him satisfaction.Handsome yet lethal.He doesn't believe in love.He's powerful business man even business world fears him yes he's that lethal.A king of dark where no source of light emits. Elena Martin! she's a successful doctor and loves her profession.she is a real example of beauty with brain.she tells herself that she's full but empty inside yes she craves for love yet never got it.she's depraved of love.she doesn't trust anyone around her.she's confident yet innocent. everthing was going fine until one day she saves someone whom she didn't have any idea about and it gets hers tangled up with a ruthless Italian Mafia king who now wants her at any cost.He will go deepest ocean if he had to for her.For her he's ready to destroy the whole world who dares to hurt her but the question is will he let her tame him or will he deject her?/1/117110/coverorgin.jpg?v=ef993fa6d397d6a6e3f507c933ea14cd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Paid In Full: Escaping The Mafia King
My stepfather skimmed millions from the mafia and traded me to Dante Moretti, New York's most ruthless boss, to pay his blood debt. But Dante executed him anyway, and instead of letting me go, he locked me in his fortress as his personal property. I became a prisoner in a gilded cage. He controlled when I ate and slept, paraded me in heavy diamonds, and brutally murdered anyone who even looked at me. Even the only guard who showed me kindness eventually betrayed me, selling me to a rival gang to pay off his own debts. Dante slaughtered an entire warehouse of men just to get me back. He knelt in a pool of blood, his hands trembling as he touched my bruised face, claiming I was his only weakness. But his obsession didn't make me feel safe; it chilled me to the bone. I was never a human being to him. I was just collateral. A pet he wanted to own and lock away. So, during the chaos of a sudden blackout, I ran into the freezing night and never looked back. Three years later, I had a new name and a new life in London. When Dante finally found me, standing in my art gallery with graying hair and begging me to come back to be his Queen, I felt absolutely nothing. I calmly handed him an envelope containing every cent my stepfather had stolen. "The blood debt is paid, Dante. I don't want your money, and I definitely don't want you."/1/107724/coverorgin.jpg?v=05063c6648b1fc80d8d55e11f623fe3a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
I Married My Ex-Fiancé's Dangerous Uncle
I stood at the altar in a fifty-thousand-dollar custom lace gown, waiting to marry the boy I had loved since I was five. But Silas didn't say "I do." He answered a phone call, turned pale, and bolted toward the exit as if the gates of hell had opened, leaving me to face five hundred of New York's most dangerous criminals alone. He left me for a waitress named Lola. The humiliation was suffocating. The elite of the Five Families looked at me with pity, a Genovese princess rejected for trash. When Silas finally returned, he didn't apologize. He showed up with hickeys on his neck, clinging to Lola, and had the audacity to suggest I become his mistress. He even demanded I hand over my dowry—millions in weapons and cash—so he could fund their lifestyle and "redecorate" with her. He thought I was still the innocent girl who would beg for his scraps. He didn't realize that in the moment he ran, a shadow had stepped forward to fill the void. Dante Moretti. The Don. Silas's uncle. The most feared man in the city looked at me with dark, predatory eyes and offered me a choice: be a victim, or be a Queen. "Since you are to marry a Moretti," Dante said, extending his scarred hand, "why not marry the head of the table?" I looked at the door where Silas had disappeared, then at the Reaper standing before me. "I do," I whispered. Silas thought he had ruined my life, but he only cleared the way for me to marry the monster who would burn the world down for me./0/75498/coverorgin.jpg?v=6749d5a96a7dfbd729ec4fa80ba61164&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Wicked Promises
When Isadora Langston survives an assassination attempt, she is sent into hiding under the protection of the one man her father warned her about-Luciano Moretti. He's ice and gunpowder, the dark prince of a crime empire that thrives in blood. She's America's golden girl, groomed for perfection and promises. What begins as reluctant proximity soon ignites into obsession, but with every kiss, secrets unravel-some that could ruin them both. In a world where loyalty kills and love is a weakness, can they survive each other... or will their wicked promises consume them?/1/114451/coverorgin.jpg?v=079a0685e859555386f49f8209d31903&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Mafia Betrayal: Her Escape From Darkness
The Maybach glided through rain, Dante's cold cedar cologne a familiar comfort. Seven years, my life revolved around him, my fingers on his suit cuff, a silent promise. But tonight, our normal shattered with a single phone call. He answered, speaking rapid Italian – a language he thought I didn't understand. Every word: a death knell. Confirming his engagement to Sofia Moretti, dismissing me as a 'consolation prize.' Seven years of loyalty vanished. His loving mask back, he left for his fiancée. I stumbled into freezing rain, recalling my foster past. My numb fingers dialed his mother, Isabella, demanding fifty million for my silence. Her insults didn't sting. The true gut punch: Sofia's Instagram, a prenup on Dante's desk, proudly showing *my* watch, captioned: 'Fourteen days left.' This wasn't their celebration; it was my death sentence. I wouldn't stay another day in this gilded cage. My old duffel bag, packed, waited. The Australia brochure, a childhood dream, in my pocket. This time, I would live for myself, and they would all pay./0/50312/coverorgin.jpg?v=261473fcda08a771c6ebce02ab8f7726&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Mafia To Alpha King
Luciano Salvatore 'The Bullet' was born, raised, and comes from a long family line of serial killers. But he wants nothing to do with that legacy. The block that has made it impossible for him to run away from all of it is his uncle, Don Mauro. The most powerful drug lord and a serial killer who had snapped a long time ago. Don Mauro promised to kill Luciano's remaining family to keep him in check. On his mother's death anniversary, Luciano tried to go against Don Mauro to make his mother proud by doing the right thing and trying to save a woman named Keirah from becoming his uncle's victim in his sex trade. Unfortunately for him, he fell in love with her at first sight. He finds out later that Don Mauro was not after Keirah for the sex trade, but Keirah is a biomedical engineer his uncle has been searching for. A person Don Mauro will do anything to possess. Succumbing to his heart's desire, even after Luciano finds out about this information. He tries to protect her in the only way he knows how. By kidnapping her and running away with her and his family out of the Mafia world. Setting them both on an expected path toward a love-and-hate relationship while discovering the hidden supernatural fate set upon them. What chances does Luciano have for survival and redemption while caught up in his unfamiliar feelings for Keirah? A woman who has feelings for someone else. *** “Are you still in love with him when you know he is a married man?” “Why is it bad for me to love him? I loved him first before her.” Luciano's gaze turns more deadly as he shouts at Keirah. “EREDE IS A MARRIED MAN. HE MARRIED YOUR SISTER. HE IS YOUR BROTHER-IN-LAW!” “I loved him first. He was with me longer. He was my first love.” “Anita is your only sister. And she needs your help now. Is that the reason you are not giving the codes to save her?” Her eyes wander, and she says nothing. “Are you telling me now? That you are still in love with him. After us… after all this? Fuck Keirah… He left you on the altar and married your sister. And he is playing you.” She tucks her hair, glances to her side, and lowers her gaze. “What about me, Keirah? Have you tried loving me as you did with him?” Keirah tucks her hair and nods again, lowering her eyes again. “What happened? " “I couldn't.” “Do you see me in him? And think that I would intentionally hurt you, Keirah, or is this my punishment because you think I kidnapped you? " “Well, you kidnapped me. It's not a thought. It has been my reality for more than a week now.” “I did not kidnap you, Keirah. Why won't you believe me? I tried to save you. It is not me, Keirah. It was not me who wanted to hurt you.” Luciano shouts. “Do you regret sleeping with me yesterday?” “No.” “Then why? ...... But you kissed me… you made love to me,” Luciano cries out. He cries in pain. She stands up and then takes a few steps back. And lowers her eyes. Luciano calms down as he speaks to her in a muffled voice. “Do you feel he is good for you?” Silent… “Just answer the question, Keirah. Is he a good guy? Can I trust him to take care of you?” She tucks her hair as she replies. “Yes.” “Better than I could take care of you?” “Different.” “What does that mean?” “You are a Mafia, and he is a big, pathetic lie.” PLEASE NOTE THIS BOOK CONTAINS STRONG LANGUAGE, MATURE AND DISTURBING SCENES 18+/1/107725/coverorgin.jpg?v=e0c9dce448821c8d70dd00e29242c99d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late To Beg: The Scapegoat's Revenge
In my previous life, I spent every waking moment cleaning up the messes of Dante Moretti, the heir to the Chicago Outfit. I dragged him away from drugs and strippers just so he wouldn't miss his Initiation Ceremony. Because of my loyalty, he became a Made Man. But a year later, when he needed a scapegoat for his own incompetence, he didn't thank me. He framed me for being a rat. I was forced to watch my parents executed in front of me before I was thrown into a freezing solitary cell to rot. The last thing I felt was the biting cold leeching the life from my body while he continued to live like a king. I died realizing my love was just a weapon he used against me. But when I blinked, the suffocating darkness dissolved into blinding strobe lights. I was back in the club. It was the night before his Initiation. Dante stood in front of me, high and arrogant, demanding his car keys so he could go see a stripper named Roxy instead of preparing for his oath. In the past, I begged him to stay. I saved his reputation. This time, I looked at the man who murdered me and felt nothing but ice. I pressed the keys into his hand. "Go," I said, condemning him to his own destruction. "Have the night of your life, Dante."/0/97870/coverorgin.jpg?v=86b30456d44b9cefed6104945c3f6ed4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Rejected by the Mafia Don, Claimed by His Rival
For eight years, I was raised to be his queen. My entire world was built on the promise that I would marry Dante Moretti, the future Don of the city's most powerful family. But on the eve of our betrothal, I overheard his plan. He was going to cast me aside for another woman, Isabella, and a street orphan he would pass off as his heir. He publicly humiliated me at his party, introducing her as his true queen. When a crystal chandelier fell from the ceiling, he used his own body to shield her, leaving me to be crushed beneath it. Later, after falsely accusing me of attacking her, he shoved my head under the freezing water of a pool, hissing that my love for him was "disgusting." But the truth that finally destroyed me was worse. For ten years, Dante had been obsessed with a scent he thought was mine. It was all a lie—a custom perfume Isabella had been wearing all along. I was never the one he wanted; I was just a case of mistaken identity. After he broke my bones and shattered my spirit, I finally made a choice. I accepted my brother's offer to escape to the rival Falcone territory. As our jet prepared for takeoff, I blocked Dante's frantic calls without looking back. This time, I was leaving for good./0/60638/coverorgin.jpg?v=78a4eee60b3ec23a0919449076d8fd1b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Stealing The Mafia's Bride
Taz and Roxy meet one lonely night and have a nice time together, after that night Taz cannot get her out of his mind. He finds going back to her over and over till he is threatened by the famous and ruthless mafia boss to stay away from her because she is his bride to be. Hearing that she belongs to the mafia makes Taz want her even more, he decides to embark on a dangerous journey to fight the mafia boss and take Roxy away before the wedding can take place. Will he make it on time or will he die trying?/0/59856/coverorgin.jpg?v=71e7e5bcc3c1cf992ca027e53bdf2c0f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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XANDER VITTORIO LOVE STORY
He's a Mafia Boss's son. He's handsome and courageous. She's a Billionaire's daughter. She's finely educated, beautiful, and innocent. They fall in love in close proximity inside the Bratva cage as prisoners. They were tortured physically and emotionally. But, love prevails between them in another place and at another time. Love is unconditional...Love is everything..../1/103815/coverorgin.jpg?v=94e0cc417a614b668fb63cf363e6ff42&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Traded To The Bratva: My Husband's Betrayal
Ninety-nine days. That was exactly how long it had been since my husband, Dante, traded my life to a Russian cartel just to save his mistress from a panic attack. I walked onto the grounds of the Vitiello estate only to find him caressing her six-month-pregnant belly at my own funeral. He didn't look like a grieving widower; he looked like a man who had finally buried his mistake. When I revealed I was alive, Dante didn't fall to his knees in relief. Instead, he protected Lucia. He believed her lies that I was insane, that I was a threat to his "heir." To prove his loyalty to her, he stood by while my father whipped me in the family chapel until my back was in shreds. Then, he dragged me to the roof and threw me into a freezing pool, watching me drown simply because Lucia claimed I pushed her. He didn't know Lucia was faking the pregnancy. He didn't know she was the one selling secrets to the Bratva. He broke his loyal wife to protect a traitor. Now, six months later, he stands in the rain holding the Vitiello diamond necklace, begging me to come home. He thinks he can buy forgiveness. But he doesn't see the man standing in the shadows behind me—the enforcer who took a bullet for me when Dante was busy breaking my bones. I looked at the diamonds, then at my husband. "I don't want a King," I whispered. "I chose the soldier."/1/107726/coverorgin.jpg?v=54bf150ce7f6efa9aa56341aa421122b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Mafia King's Regret: She Moved On
For four years, I was the invisible baker's daughter who memorized Dante Vitiello’s routine. I baked stomach-friendly meals for the Underboss of New York, ensuring his ulcer didn't kill him, all while loving him from the shadows. But when I collapsed from exhaustion in his gym, he didn't help me. He looked at me with pure revulsion and asked his guard: "Is she dead? Call pest control." To him, I wasn't a girl; I was a stain that smelled of "grease and desperation." When the Capo’s daughter framed me for stealing family secrets, Dante knew the truth. Yet, he stood silent. He didn't defend me. Instead, he handed me a scholarship check—hush money to exile me from the city, sacrificing my reputation to protect his political alliances. I took the money, not out of gratitude, but out of spite. I burned every sketch, every note, and every shred of the girl who had foolishly loved a monster. I realized I was just a disposable extra in his story. Five years later, I returned as a ruthless top-tier lawyer, engaged to a safe, clean man. Dante, now the Don, cornered me at a gala, looking at me with a desperate hunger he’d never shown before. "I broke you to save you," he claimed, his voice rough with regret. I pulled away and smiled, cold and unyielding. "You didn't save me, Dante. You burned the only person who ever truly loved you. And she’s never coming back."/1/107570/coverorgin.jpg?v=1fc123d2b71cd493f7f0fca909df0006&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Canary Who Learned To Fly
I died on a Tuesday. It wasn't a quick death. It was slow, cold, and meticulously planned by the man who called himself my father. I was twenty years old. He needed my kidney to save my sister. The spare part for the golden child. I remember the blinding lights of the operating theater, the sterile smell of betrayal, and the phantom pain of a surgeon's scalpel carving into my flesh while my screams echoed unheard. I remember looking through the observation glass and seeing him—my father, Giovanni Vitiello, the Don of the Chicago Outfit—watching me die with the same detached expression he used when signing a death warrant. He chose her. He always chose her. And then, I woke up. Not in heaven. Not in hell. But in my own bed, a year before my scheduled execution. My body was whole, unscarred. The timeline had reset, a glitch in the cruel matrix of my existence, giving me a second chance I never asked for. This time, when my father handed me a one-way ticket to London—an exile disguised as a severance package—I didn't cry. I didn't beg. My heart, once a bleeding wound, was now a block of ice. He didn't know he was talking to a ghost. He didn't know I had already lived through his ultimate betrayal. He also didn't know that six months ago, during the city's brutal territory wars, I was the one who saved his most valuable asset. In a secret safe house, I stitched up the wounds of a blinded soldier, a man whose life hung by a thread. He never saw my face. He only knew my voice, the scent of vanilla, and the steady touch of my hands. He called me Sette. Seven. For the seven stitches I put in his shoulder. That man was Dante Moretti. The Ruthless Capo. The man my sister, Isabella, is now set to marry. She stole my story. She claimed my actions, my voice, my scent. And Dante, the man who could spot a lie from a mile away, believed the beautiful deception because he wanted it to be true. He wanted the golden girl to be his savior, not the invisible sister who was only ever good for her spare parts. So I took the ticket. In my past life, I fought them, and they silenced me on an operating table. This time, I will let them have their perfect, gilded lie. I will go to London. I will disappear. I will let Seraphina Vitiello die on that plane. But I will not be a victim. This time, I will not be the lamb led to slaughter. This time, from the shadows of my exile, I will be the one holding the match. And I will wait, with the patience of the dead, to watch their entire world burn. Because a ghost has nothing to lose, and a queen of ashes has an empire to gain./0/97871/coverorgin.jpg?v=f5195f1fa0c8b6c1f11fd00dd0d3e768&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Revenge for Mom: Destroying His Mafia World
My fiancé, the Underboss of the DeLuca Crime Family, promised he would burn the world down for me. But when my mother was dying in the hospital, he chose a ski trip with another woman. It was that woman's dog that attacked my mother, but when I called him, shaking, he was annoyed. He was in Aspen with Isabella, and I could hear her laughing in the background. He dismissed my mother's injuries as a "minor scrape" and told me not to "make a big deal out of this." While my mother's fever spiked, he ignored my desperate pleas. Instead, my phone lit up with an Instagram post of him and Isabella smiling by a fireplace, sipping hot chocolate. My mother slipped into septic shock. That picture was a public declaration, a judgment on my mother's worth, and my own. A cold fury burned away every last bit of love I had for him. She died at 3:17 a.m. I held her hand until it was cold, then walked out of the hospital and called the one number I was never supposed to use—the number for my father. "She's dead," I said. "I'm coming to Chicago. I'm leaving this life, and I'm going to burn his world to the ground."/1/103816/coverorgin.jpg?v=569fd5ed4cfcd515cc1b2f0efd9af1f2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Escaping The Cage: I Married His Worst Enemy
My husband, the Capo of New York, gripped my hand as we walked into the soundproofed room. He wasn't there to save me. He was there to watch the family doctor carve out my mind. A stranger named Sofia claimed I had sold her to a brothel twelve years ago. It was a lie. But Dante looked at me with cold marble eyes, believing the woman sobbing in his arms over the wife he had vowed to protect. "Sit, Elena," he ordered. He strapped me into the chair. He watched as they injected liquid fire into my veins to force a confession. He dragged me to the kennels, forcing me to feed the dogs I was terrified of, and watched as they tore into my flesh. He even locked me in a freezer to "cool off" my jealousy. The final straw wasn't the pain. It was hearing him plan a Vow Renewal with Sofia, intending to parade me as her Maid of Honor to teach me humility. I realized then that Elena Moretti had to die. So, I set the hospital room on fire. I left my wedding ring in the ashes and vanished into the night. Six months later, Dante found me in Paris. He fell to his knees, begging for forgiveness. I looked at him with dead eyes and handed him a knife. "Kill yourself," I said. "That is the only way I will believe you are sorry."/1/107727/coverorgin.jpg?v=2035585f92730cc3189ad78da1cd0690&imageMogr2/format/webp)
