Mafia Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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He Followed: Building Our Scarred Life
On the night of my triumph, my husband chose her. As the champagne flutes toasted my resurrected Renaissance masterpieces, the news channels showed Lorenzo "Enzo" Conti shielding his new business ally—and rumored future bride—from a storm. I stood alone in the glittering gallery, the perfect, neglected wife of Chicago's most formidable shadow-king. For four years, I was his most beautiful possession. A restorer of broken art, trapped in my own gilded cage. That night, I saw the final crack. So I began my own restoration project. Myself. I forged my escape with the precision of my craft, embedding my divorce papers within a genuine museum loan agreement. He signed it without a glance, too busy building his empire to notice he was losing his wife. I vanished into the Swiss Alps, carrying two secrets: my unborn child, and the cold resolve to never be erased again. I thought that was the end of the story. I was wrong. He followed. The man who once commanded a criminal empire now lives in a mountain hut. He chops my wood, clears my path, and learns to soothe our daughter at 3 a.m. When assassins from his old life came, he buried them in the frozen earth with his bare hands. "Let me be your sentry," he says, his eyes holding a peace I've never seen. "Let me use the only skills I have left to keep you safe." This is not a story about forgiveness. This is a story about fracture, and what grows from the ruins. It's about the Don who became a carpenter, the restorer who learned to break free, and the new life we're building—piece by scarred piece—in the shadow of the mountains. Some masterpieces aren't found in museums. They're forged in the silent space between a second chance, and the courage to take it./1/116656/coverorgin.jpg?v=771931507ff5074e2ac15b783b1a7fe2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Rising From Shadows: True Mafia Bride
I stood at the altar with the most ruthless mafia boss in New York, Salvatore Romano. But when he lifted my wedding veil, his eyes filled with pure murderous intent. He realized I was not the woman he loved. My own father stepped forward and publicly declared me a deranged imposter, claiming my half-sister Camilla was the true bride. I was dragged away, locked in a holding room, and threatened with a bullet to the head. My father slapped me across the face, ordering me to take a hush-money check and sign away my birthright. Meanwhile, Camilla gloated in front of me, wearing my dead mother's antique ruby necklace. She had stolen my identity, my tragic childhood scars, and my position, feeding Salvatore a fabricated fairy tale that he swallowed completely. For twenty years, I survived the bloody streets of Chicago alone while they pampered a fraud. It was pathetic how the supposedly terrifying Don was entirely blind to the fact that his beloved fake bride was secretly embezzling millions to fund his worst enemy. When the truth finally came to light and Salvatore desperately begged me to take the crown as his true wife, I just smiled. "I have no interest in the Romano billions." I didn't come here to marry him. I came to burn their entire empire to the ground./1/114779/coverorgin.jpg?v=b615ee42e2f53d762438c39bd9ce5171&imageMogr2/format/webp)
CLAIMED BY THE MAFIA DON
Rose was so naive that she didn't know Jonah, her ex-fiancé, was cheating on her even before her wedding day. On the night before her wedding, she caught him cheating on her with the last person she would ever expect him to be with, Rebecca. Out of anger and spite, she cursed at them and left, then went and got herself drunk and made out with a mafia don, who, oblivious to her, was her fiancé's stepbrother and his boss. On the day of the wedding, she stormed in and canceled it, calling Jonah out. After the embarrassment, Jonah vowed to make her life miserable. She tried to get a job, but it was almost impossible because of the influence Jonah had. So she went to the greatest mafia don that her friend Lucy recommended to her. When she went to ask for his help, the don turned out to be the mysterious man who had been showing interest in her, but she had kept declining. Unbeknownst to her, he was her ex-fiancé's boss and stepbrother. She asked for his help, and he offered it, of course, but on one condition.that she would be his mistress !./1/100387/coverorgin.jpg?v=b66f2a12027939723a9021f03bb1fea0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire's Regret: Chasing His Ex-Wife
I was the canary in the gilded cage, the clean face of the O'Neill Syndicate. My husband, Cameron, was the Don, and I was supposed to be his cherished trophy. But at my own art exhibition, the facade cracked. A notification lit up my phone: 'Watch your husband touch the woman he actually loves.' It was Kacie, his legal 'fixer.' She smirked at me across the room, whispering that I was just a number on a ledger while she was the partner he couldn't afford to lose. Things turned deadly when I went riding to clear my head. My saddle snapped mid-air. I hit the ground hard, shattering my leg. It wasn't an accident; the leather had been cleanly cut. Lying in the hospital bed, I waited for my husband's rage to defend me. Instead, Cameron calmly peeled a pear and fed it to me. "Leather wears out," he said dismissively. "Don't be paranoid." That night, I heard him whispering with Kacie in the hallway. He knew she had sabotaged the saddle. He knew she could have killed me. He laughed and said, "A cripple doesn't look good at galas. Keep her docile." He chose his mistress over my life. He sacrificed my safety for his public image. The tears stopped falling instantly. I didn't want an apology anymore. I picked up the phone and called Sarah Vance, the city's most ruthless divorce attorney. "I don't just want a divorce," I told her. "I want to take his empire, piece by piece."/1/116657/coverorgin.jpg?v=71f37b8b837e57afeef8de0b5d472c76&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Betraying The Queen: A Mafia Boss's Downfall
For seven years, I laundered blood money and managed a fortified estate for my Mafia Boss husband, Silas. I thought we were building a bulletproof life for our son, until a stranger at a luxury mall handed me a lavish baptism invitation. It was for my husband's newborn daughter, with a civilian woman named Valentina. He hadn't been on dangerous Syndicate business trips; he had been living a painstakingly constructed double life for six years. He funneled millions in Mafia tribute to fund her storybook lifestyle, showering her with authentic diamonds while forcing me to wear cheap counterfeits to "avoid IRS audits." The final blow came when I saw the baby's wrist. My in-laws had stolen the sacred gold protection medallion I had custom-made for my miscarried twin daughters, gifting it to this illegitimate child. I had sacrificed my soul, my safety, and my unborn babies to protect his underground empire, only to realize my entire marriage was a fraud. But I am a Mafia Queen, and I do not weep in the shadows. I took the invitation, put on my best heels, and walked straight onto the brightly lit stage of their extravagant hundred-day banquet. Grabbing the microphone in front of fifty ruthless Syndicate bosses and his clueless civilian in-laws, I looked down at my terrified husband. "Husband. Tell them. How many years have we been married?"/1/100388/coverorgin.jpg?v=425b2f9b2783c973a6bd269beb1570a6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
He Chose A Fake Heiress Over His True Queen
I waited seven years for Jax Vetti, the youngest Capo in New York, to finally claim me. Instead, five minutes before our scheduled engagement, he called me a burden behind a velvet curtain. Standing on the center stage of the Gala, he didn't reach for my hand. He took the hand of Chloe Davenport, his rival’s daughter, and announced to the underworld that she was carrying his heir. When the explosion tore through the ballroom moments later, Jax didn't hesitate. He threw his body over Chloe, shielding her completely, and dragged her to the safe room. I was left behind, exposed and helpless, until a massive crystal chandelier crashed down, crushing my legs and slicing my throat. While I lay bleeding out on the cold floor, Jax returned. He looked at my shattered body not with horror, but with disgust. "You're a liability, Savvy," he sneered, ordering his guards to dump me in the courtyard like trash so I wouldn't upset his pregnant fiancée. I clutched the bullet casing he gave me years ago—a blood oath he swore would bind us forever. He had promised to protect me, but tonight, he stepped over my broken body to comfort the woman who was secretly plotting his demise. His second-in-command found me before the cold took me. "He's lost his mind," Ben whispered, scooping me up and driving me to a private jet bound for Sicily. I didn't die that night. But the girl who loved Jax Vetti did. Six months later, I returned from the dead. Not as his victim, but as the woman who would turn his wedding into a funeral./0/68162/coverorgin.jpg?v=6626d576f8c1a4bcd5ad120a1319952b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
In the Arms of the Enemy
In a city run by a crime organization, Isabella "Izzy" Moretti is a smart law student torn between wanting a normal life and being drawn to a dangerous lifestyle she tries to escape. But when she accidentally gets involved with the infamous DeLuca family, led by the ruthless Santino DeLuca, Izzy's life changes completely.With all its bloodshed, power struggles, and treacheries, she has to find her way through an era of crime and love where even affection can be as perilous as treachery./0/94131/coverorgin.jpg?v=e5ead58abd7cdc2a1c7e6d624826932b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Left For Dead: The Mob Boss's Sin
My husband, the most feared mob boss in Chicago, told me it wasn't the right time for an heir. Then I found the invitation to his secret son's baptism—a child he had with a woman from our rival family. His betrayal climaxed when he shoved me so hard I miscarried our baby, and his mistress left me for dead at the bottom of a cliff. But I survived, and after watching me accept the world's highest honor for architecture on TV, he's now kneeling outside my hotel, begging the ghost he created to come home./1/118536/coverorgin.jpg?v=81484dd5e4d3b2151be665bc3a11576b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Faking My Death for the Mafia Don
I was married to Vincent Rossi, the most feared Mafia Don on the East Coast. Two years ago, I secretly donated my bone marrow to save his life after a rival hit. But his mistress, Sophia, stole my medical records and claimed the credit as his savior. She even announced she was carrying his heir. Vincent believed her completely. When I brought him homemade broth at the clinic, he struck me to the floor in front of his armed guards. "A Don does not wait. Least of all for a wife who fails to observe a simple schedule." Later, Sophia deliberately threw herself against a glass table, faked a bloody miscarriage, and pointed her finger at me. Vincent didn't even check the security footage before slapping me across the face and letting Sophia put a massive underworld bounty on my head. I had sacrificed my health and youth for a man who didn't hesitate to let the entire city hunt me down like a traitor. He protected a lying viper while destroying the only woman who ever truly bled for him. So, I set up a dead-man's switch to expose Sophia's fake pregnancy and her affairs with rival soldiers to the entire Commission. Then, I faked my own brutal death by throwing myself off a cliff right in front of his eyes. Let the mighty Don weep over my casket and drown in his regrets, because I am leaving this hell to live for myself./0/94132/coverorgin.jpg?v=621a754818b78bb62df89ffbc3c352e9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Five-Year Lie, A Mafia Wife's Vows
For five years, I believed my husband and father when they told me they had executed my cousin for her betrayal. Then I saw her in a clinic, holding the hand of a little boy who had my husband's eyes. My entire marriage was a lie, a conspiracy to keep a Mafia alliance stable while he lived a secret life with her and their son. I was the placeholder wife, and I soon discovered their plan to have me drugged, declared insane, and buried alive in an asylum. So on the night they threw a party to celebrate their perfect family, I sent a gift. A recording of their plot, for our entire world to hear./1/117911/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260612134517&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Blood on His Hands
I was staring at the black-and-white ultrasound of our baby, waiting to share the joy with the man I had loved for eight years. But Preston walked into the clinic flashing a brand-new solid gold wedding band. He told me he had just married a mafia princess to secure his territory. He demanded I become his secret mistress and keep our unborn child. If I dared to abort his heir, he would pull his protection and leave my father for dead. When I refused and tried to leave him, his new wife orchestrated a federal raid on my father's business. Preston stood by and let it happen, using my family's ruin to force my submission. Driven to absolute despair, my father jumped from the roof of his building. Hours later, my mother suffered a massive, fatal heart attack from the shock. Preston rushed to the emergency room, dropping to his knees and begging for my forgiveness. He cried that he didn't know his wife ordered the hit, claiming he only wanted to scare my father so I would stay. I looked at the man who had promised me the world, my bare feet covered in my own blood, my parents lying dead on steel slabs just steps away. "You have nothing left to threaten me with." Returning to my empty apartment, I bypassed the mafia's digital firewall and uploaded their darkest secrets to the world./1/103519/coverorgin.jpg?v=93e6999678186632901855a20a4771fc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late For The Mafia Don's Regret
I kept a ledger to track my marriage to the most feared man in Chicago. Loyalty started at one hundred. Every time Dante looked through me to stare at his mistress, Isabella, I subtracted one. Every time he left our bed to answer her calls, I subtracted five. The day the score hit zero, I was lying in a secret clinic, bleeding out. I had been in a severe accident. I was pregnant, and the hemorrhage was critical. But the nurse, eyes red with weeping, told me they couldn't give me the blood transfusion I needed. Dante had ordered the clinic's entire supply of O-negative blood to be reserved for Isabella. She had a bruised knee and was "in shock." He prioritized her comfort over his unborn child's life. I lost the baby. I left the ledger on his desk with a final note: *You bought her comfort with your heir’s blood. Score: 0.* Then, I vanished. Two years later, Dante found me at a gala in Seattle. The ruthless Capo dei Capi, a man who never bowed to anyone, fell to his knees in front of hundreds of people. He begged, tears streaming down his face, claiming he had made a mistake, that I was his only true love. I looked at him, then at Julian, the man standing beside me who treated me like a queen. I pulled my hand away from Dante’s grip and smiled coldly. "Apologies don't fix dead things, Mr. Moretti. Go back to your grave."/0/78802/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260330092445&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Mafia's Wrong Woman
"Please... I'm not her." But the ropes bite tighter, and the man with dead eyes doesn't flinch. Fortune Daquino was never meant to be here. Mistaken for Emily Carter, she's taken by Zeke Zee Armani, the kingpin, predator, embodiment of danger and desire. What Zeke doesn't know? Fortune can body morph. Things go wrong when the taste of power and blood is addictive, sex is used for revenge and treason is in the air. Now, trapped in Zeke's world where betrayal is a weapon, Fortune must decide who she's willing to become. Because in Zeke's world, no one is innocent. She stole a life. He stole her freedom. But in the end, love demanded blood./1/118537/coverorgin.jpg?v=e40a43daf2b8658810e080c9367db616&imageMogr2/format/webp)
He Never Loved Me,Until I Left
For four years, I was the invisible, obedient wife of Zane, the most terrifying mafia Don in the city. Everyone believed I was just a pathetic placeholder. Then his first love, Scarlett, returned. Zane—a man who only handled top-tier Family business—personally stepped into a blood-feud to handle her extraction. Leaked photos showed him shielding her from the rain. At a restaurant, he completely ignored my existence while sitting across from her. Scarlett even cornered me, mocking my one-sided crush. "He only married you as a temporary measure," she sneered. "I want you to be prepared when he discards you." The entire syndicate laughed at my impending downfall. The lower-ranking associates, who had ruthlessly bullied me for years, openly mocked my thin blood and prepared to welcome their true Queen. I suffered through panic attacks in the crushing dark of our penthouse, vomiting until my throat was raw. I had endured their vicious abuse and his cold facade, foolishly craving the scraps of warmth he dropped behind him. Why was I always the indistinct shape in the corner of his life? I refused to wait for him to discard me on his own terms, so I coldly demanded a divorce. But instead of divorce papers, Zane left a thick, black dossier on his desk—meticulous blackmail material on every single associate who had ever made my life a living hell. I slipped into a midnight-black silk gown and headed to the syndicate's lavish wedding gala, ready to burn them all down./1/118694/coverorgin.jpg?v=47c8c045943585125303cb556c6fbb1b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Hidden Heir: Destroying My Arrogant Stepfather
My mother divorced my father, the ruthless Don of the Mafia, to give us a peaceful, normal life. She married Victor, a man who presented himself as the perfect, harmless civilian husband. But the moment they tied the knot, Victor manipulated her into exiling me to a boarding school dorm. He took over my bedroom for his own son and secretly dismissed me as just a "dumb teenager." What my mother didn't know was that her new husband was a desperate rat drowning in cartel debt. He quickly drained her life savings and secretly added his name to our estate's deed, planning to mortgage our home to the underworld. When I refused to let him use my name for his schemes, my mother blindly defended him. "He is your stepfather, show some respect!" I had to stand by and watch this parasite track dirt across my life and steal the very roof that once protected us. He thought I was just an easy obstacle, a helpless kid he could easily trample on to save his own skin. But he forgot whose blood runs in my veins. I stepped out into the cold wind and pulled out my encrypted burner phone. I dialed the man whose mere name is enough to keep the city's police chief awake at night. "Dad," I said to the Boss of the Cosa Nostra. "It is time."/0/67852/coverorgin.jpg?v=c81b599dbfd60f9b9f245eea2ab50410&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Best Friend's Brother: Forbidden Desire
This is a collection of forbidden erotic stories: Book 1: My Best Friend's Brother Book 2: My Best Friend's Sister Book 3: My Best Friend's Father Book 4: Tempted by My Nanny Book 5: My Forbidden Stepdaddy Book 6: My Forbidden Stepbrother ••• "You think I haven't tried to stop wanting you? That I haven't tried to stay away?" He steps closer, eyes darkening as he runs a finger down my arm. "But every time you walk in, every time you look at me... all I can think about is how good it would feel to pin you against that wall and take what's been mine since the first time I saw you." °°°° My job was simple-help my best friend, Elora, and keep my life as normal as possible. What I didn't expect was to be drawn into her family's dangerous world... or to fall for the one person I was supposed to avoid: her older brother, Camden. Camden Andretti is everything I should stay away from-intense, unpredictable, and fiercely protective. But when I witness something I shouldn't have, he's the only one who can keep me safe. The hardest part? Surviving each day with him by my side, forced to face this heat between us. I want him in ways I shouldn't. Need him more than I ever thought possible. And one reckless choice may change everything. Now, I have to face the consequences of a forbidden desire-and survive a world I was never meant to be part of./1/116504/coverorgin.jpg?v=6156f406fa49b6ff0338eeb4e4df9529&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Trapped By The Mafia King's Secret Obsession
To pay off my late father’s ruinous mafia blood debt, I took a lethal job: acting as a body double for a cloistered Mafia Princess in an arranged marriage meeting. But the man sitting across the polished table was Felix Falcone, the terrifying Underboss—and the boy I secretly loved for three years at our academy. He didn’t recognize me. To him, I was just a pawn for territory. I swallowed my bitter heartbreak, remembering how he once threw my handmade graduation pastries into the trash without a second glance. I tried to play the perfect fake bride, but my treacherous memory betrayed me. I accidentally revealed intimate details about his habits, from his hatred of dark chocolate to the exact make of his tactical pen. My cover was blown. But instead of executing me for the deception, Felix discovered my true identity. His cold indifference instantly morphed into a terrifying, obsessive possessiveness. He abruptly canceled his mafia marriage, trapped me in his corporate empire as his exclusive secretary, and ruthlessly threatened any man who dared to look at me. I was completely suffocated and confused. Why was this ruthless predator—a man who once publicly despised me and viewed unions only as tools for absolute power—now hunting me with such dark, unyielding devotion? Trapped in the shadows of his armored SUV, he leaned in, his scent of cedar and danger wrapping around me as he sent a message demanding my complete surrender. Knowing I could no longer hide, I made my choice and hit send. “There is no need for a hunt, Felix. I surrender.”/1/117912/coverorgin.jpg?v=7a2d34605c372920bfaa26b04352d648&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Betrayed Heiress's Ruthless Mafia Comeback
I am the true heiress of the Falcone mafia family. My fiancé, Julian, swore a blood oath to protect me and promised to win my murdered mother's crown for me at the underground auction. But as the auctioneer raised his gavel, Julian bid eleven million dollars—only to place the crown on the head of Chloe, the adopted imposter who stole my life. He publicly stripped me of my succession token just because Chloe shed a few fake tears. When I tried to leave the hall, the three childhood friends I had secretly funded and protected with my life blocked my path. They pushed me down a flight of marble stairs, shattering my knee. When I struggled to stand, they violently wrenched my arm until my shoulder popped from its socket. "Stop playing the sympathy card, Scarlett," they mocked coldly. "You are just faking a theatrical act to steal Julian back." They watched me suffer in agony, completely devoted to Chloe's fragile facade. Even my own father used this humiliation to strip my inheritance and force me into a cheap arranged marriage. I endured the blinding pain of my mangled arm in the dead of night, realizing my years of bleeding for these men meant absolutely nothing. So, I decided to sever the dead weight. I dialed the private number of Dante Vitiello—Julian's deadliest rival in the underworld. "I need a groom in three days," I told him. "In exchange, you get my territory."/1/103520/coverorgin.jpg?v=5e6418d5394e0e4bbe83a90a685c826f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
He Chose A Fake Heir Over His True Wife
My husband studied the fertility report on his desk with the same cold precision he used to order executions. On our fifth anniversary, he didn't give me diamonds. He checked his Rolex and delivered the sentence that ended my life. "Your genetic profile is defective, Catarina." He didn't just ask for a divorce. He pressed a button on his intercom, and a woman walked in. She was loud, chewing gum, and wearing a dress that was too tight. "This is Aria," Alex said, his voice flat. "She is a vessel. She will carry the heir your body cannot produce." He claimed it was just business, that she would be exiled once the child was born. But at my birthday gala, when Aria tripped into a champagne tower, the truth shattered along with the glass. I was the one bleeding, a jagged shard slicing my arm. But Alex didn't look at me. He threw his body over her. He cradled his mistress, screaming for a doctor to check the baby, while I stood there with blood dripping onto the marble floor, completely invisible. I watched him give his own blood to save her in the clinic later that night. I saw the way he looked at her—not like a vessel, but like a prize. He thought I would stay. He thought I was the obedient Mafia wife who would raise his mistress's child to save the family image. So when he handed me a stack of papers to "protect the assets," he was too arrogant to read them. He didn't notice the header read *Decree of Divorce*. While he was busy buying baby clothes for a child that didn't even exist, I wiped my identity from the servers, signed the papers he blindly authorized, and boarded a one-way jet to Paris. By the time he realizes his "heir" is a fraud, I will already be a ghost./1/118538/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260603191727&imageMogr2/format/webp)
