Mafia Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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He Saved His Mistress, Not His Wife
I was trapped under a massive oak bookcase, my leg shattered, dust filling my lungs. My husband, Dante, the Underboss of the Chicago Outfit, finally found me. But just as he lifted the heavy beam to free me, his earpiece crackled. It was news about Sofia, his childhood friend and the woman he truly loved. "She scratched her arm on the car door, Boss. She's hyperventilating. She won't board the jet without you." Dante froze. He looked at me, bleeding on the floor, secretly ten weeks pregnant with his child. Then he looked at the door. "It's just a broken leg, Elena," he said coldly, slowly lowering the crushing weight back onto me. "You are a doctor. You know it's not fatal. Sofia needs me." He ran to comfort a woman with a papercut, leaving his wife and unborn child to be buried alive in the rubble. I miscarried alone in the dark, tracing the number of a divorce lawyer on the floorboards in my own blood. Three days later, while he was peeling grapes for Sofia in a VIP hospital suite, I packed my medical degree and a single gym bag. I didn't go to a hotel. I boarded a military cargo plane to a war zone in South Sudan. By the time the Ice Prince realized his castle was empty, I was already thousands of miles away, and I wasn't coming back./1/104523/coverorgin.jpg?v=76fb812335981d8aac82c7be5ebd7d90&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Jilted Bride Marries The Ruthless Capo
I was three days away from marrying the Underboss of the Fazio crime family when I unlocked his burner phone. The screen glowed toxic bright in the dark next to my sleeping fiancé. A message from a contact saved as 'Little Trouble' read: "She is just a statue, Dante. Come back to bed." Attached was a photo of a woman lying in the sheets of his private office, wearing his shirt. My heart didn't break; it simply stopped. For eight years, I believed Dante was the hero who pulled me from a burning opera house. I played the perfect, loyal Mafia Princess for him. But heroes don't give their mistresses rare pink diamonds while giving their fiancées cubic zirconia replicas. He didn't just cheat. He humiliated me. He defended his mistress over his own soldiers in public. He even abandoned me on the side of the road on my birthday because she faked a pregnancy emergency. He thought I was weak. He thought I would accept the fake ring and the disrespect because I was just a political pawn. He was wrong. I didn't cry. Tears are for women who have options. I had a strategy. I walked into the bathroom and dialed a number I hadn't dared to call in a decade. "Speak," a voice like gravel growled on the other end. Lorenzo Moretti. The Capo of the rival family. The man my father called the Devil. "The wedding is off," I whispered, staring at my reflection. "I want an alliance with you, Enzo. And I want the Fazio family burned to the ground."/0/74151/coverorgin.jpg?v=2789996154f7d2113aaea3968495b36a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Veils of Thorns
Luca DeLuca was never meant to be a king. Born into one of the most powerful mafia families, he was raised in the shadows of blood and violence-protected, sheltered, and kept far from the world his father ruled with an iron fist. But when Don Salvatore DeLuca is assassinated, everything changes. The empire his father built is now crumbling, threatened by enemies within and outside the family. Forced into a throne he never wanted, Luca must learn to navigate a world of betrayal, power, and brutal survival. He isn't a killer. Not yet. But in the mafia, power is earned in blood-and to lead, he must be willing to lose everything, including the last pieces of his soul. But Luca's battle isn't just against the underworld's deadliest players. It's against himself. As he struggles with the darkness seeping into his veins, a forbidden love threatens to shatter everything. Torn between the woman who makes him feel human and the ruthless empire that demands his loyalty, Luca must decide: Is he willing to sacrifice love for power? Or will love be his greatest weakness? In a world where trust is a death sentence and mercy is a myth, Luca DeLuca must either rise as a legend or die as a footnote./0/83694/coverorgin.jpg?v=8e50a1720b655a8919411b4da3e88b67&imageMogr2/format/webp)
One Last Bet
The roar of the South Philly sports bar was music to my ears, the cheers for my "Oracle" predictions ringing hollow as I saw the smiling faces of my childhood friends. Just one week from now, in a life I' d already lived, these same friends would lose everything on my predictions and leave me for dead in a dirty alley. They' d blame me, screaming King K, the flashy influencer, had called it an hour before I did, beating me until I stopped moving. Now they pressed me for more "sure things," their greed a mask over the rage I knew was coming, their loyalty as thin as their winnings. Then my Uncle Leo, the only family I had, intervened, pulling the "exhausted niece" card, a gesture that filled me with relief, even as I felt a pang of guilt for my coldness. But relief turned to dread when he revealed his "heart condition" and a staggering medical bill, claiming he' d lost all our savings on a "bad tip"-a lie designed to force one last, massive prediction from me. The betrayal of my previous life faded into the background, eclipsed by the desperate reality of his illness, trapping me into playing the Oracle again. I poured my soul into the data, finding a perfect, obscure rookie bet, only to see King K post the exact same pick minutes later, confirming a sickening truth: Uncle Leo was leaking my intel. My blood ran cold when I found the unique Eagles watch I' d given my uncle on King K' s wrist in an old photo, realizing my uncle was not only feeding my analysis to his secret boyfriend but was systematically destroying my reputation to build King K' s brand. The pieces clicked: it was always planned. But this time, I was ready. I cashed out my winning soccer bets (which King K had predictably tried to steal credit for, missing my trap bet entirely), and used every dime on one final, impossible gamble: the "unbeatable" NFL team would lose after their star quarterback suffered a season-ending injury in the first quarter-an event I remembered with horrifying clarity from my past life. I packed a bag, ready to watch King K, Uncle Leo, and every single soul who had called me a fraud, who had plotted my demise, lose everything and face the loan sharks I knew would be coming./1/102623/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106222502&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Escaping The Mafia Don's Golden Cage
I stood over the fresh dirt of my four-year-old son's grave. My husband, the Don of the Stark family, didn't hold my hand for comfort. He only adjusted his cuffs and checked that the diamond necklace he forced on me looked good for the cameras. "Stop crying," he whispered into my hair. "You're making a scene." Two days later, I woke up to the sound of shattering glass in the nursery. A strange boy stood there, smiling over the broken remains of my son's favorite snow globe. "This is Cody," my mother-in-law said coldly. "He's family. He stays." When I demanded he leave, Eli looked at me with dead eyes. "Material things can be replaced, Harper. The boy stays." Suspicion led me to the library door, where I heard the impossible truth. Cody wasn't a distant cousin. He was Eli's illegitimate son. And worse—while my son was drowning alone in the pool, Eli hadn't been at a business meeting. He had been in bed with his mistress. I realized then that the silver bracelet he had gifted me wasn't jewelry. I pried it open and found the blinking red light of a tracker. I was a prisoner in a cage of gold. So, I decided to die. I staged my suicide at the bridge, vanished into the night, and paid a shadow doctor to wipe my memories clean. I became Avery. I was happy. I was free. Until six months later, when a man in a black suit walked into my small-town cafe and looked at me with the eyes of a wolf. "Harper," he growled. "Come home."/0/91516/coverorgin.jpg?v=a6adc1f13279fd6df5ac1f438b1291e7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Married to the ruthless Billionaire Mafia
I was meant to study law. Instead, the law sold me. My father's debts sold me into a contract marriage with Dante Moretti, the heir to a mafia empire who hides behind a billion-dollar legal empire. To the world, he's the polished, untouchable CEO. Behind closed doors, he's ruthless, demanding, and dangerously irresistible. I swore I'd outsmart him that I'd serve my time and win my freedom. But every kiss feels like a trap, every touch like a dare, and every secret I uncover pulls me deeper into his world. And the longer I stay, the harder it is to remember: Am I his prisoner... or his bride?/0/90421/coverorgin.jpg?v=0692d92ce48f9601d7683872c51475aa&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Regret of the Mafia King
Luna Hayes accidentally saved Liam Moretti, the heir to Ravenwood's largest mafia family. People whispered his name with fear. They said he was merciless, ruthless, a devil in business... and even worse in bed. Yet this very man would kneel to help Luna put on her heels, afraid to hurt her. In bed, he was always gentle with her-so much so that he kept a sex slave just to satisfy his darker desires. But everything changed the moment Liam decided to let that slave carry his child./0/99338/coverorgin.jpg?v=db02cbf349e209b22240fee33da38a74&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late to Love Me Now
My father, a rising star in a crime family, decided to leave my mother. During the divorce, he asked me to choose who to live with. For the sake of my future, I chose him, the man who had money and power, over my penniless mother. My choice broke her heart. "He has money, Mom. You don't. I don't want to be poor anymore," I told her, a lie that felt like swallowing glass. She looked at me with utter betrayal before collapsing in tears. In my previous life, my love for her became the burden that destroyed her. After we were cast out, she worked herself to the bone to support me, only to die tragically trying to sell a kidney to pay for my medical bills. I followed her into death a week later. I didn't understand. I had loved her with all my soul, but my love only led to her suffering and death. Why did choosing love mean choosing ruin? Waking up again, I was fourteen, back at the moment of that devastating choice. This time, my love would not be a burden. It would be a weapon. I would get close to my father, dismantle his empire from the inside, and build my mother a fortress with the rubble./0/74621/coverorgin.jpg?v=3d85cfaba7553b14615737d44936a693&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Kane's Forbidden Mafia Princess
Book One in the Spinelli Chronicles Fiona Higgins' life is shattered when. She uncovers the shocking truth about her family's dark legacy: she's the daughter of a ruthless Mafia king, Don Spinelli. As she fights for her freedom from the Mafia, she's drawn to Kane McGregor, the billionaire who saved her life one fateful night. But as they surrender to their forbidden love, they will risk everything to escape the deadly world that binds them. ★ ★ ★ "If you want a war, I'll give it to you," Kane's blue eyes blazed with intensity. "I won't rest until your father, your brothers, and anyone else in that gang rots in jail for the rest of their natural lives." I let out a slow sigh. "I'm not here to compare firepower; I'm just a businesswoman trying to make a deal." Kane's laughter was low and mocking. "Right, and just to be clear, you're not exactly a skilled 'businesswoman.' I almost took you to my bed, and I'm glad it didn't happen." One of my brows arched. "I'm curious, though, would you?" "Would I what?" Kane asked. I leaned forward and whispered into his ear. "Would you still take me to your bed if I wasn't a Spinelli?" The silence that followed was deafening, and I knew I had my answer./1/118267/coverorgin.jpg?v=5e093c25dfb4148879d2b44dedcae925&imageMogr2/format/webp)
You Chose Her, Now Call Me Queen
I sat in a room waiting for my fiancé to set our wedding date, but instead, I received a video of him bleeding in a clinic. He wasn't there for me; he was paying the price for a blood-diamond purse he’d bought for a Mafia Princess named Lucia. I had spent five years living in the shadow of his underground fights, constantly fearing the day he’d come home in a body bag. Today, he’d emptied our wedding fund to buy Lucia an armored car, leaving me with nothing but the chilling realization that I was merely a placeholder. When I confronted him, he dismissed my pain, swearing it was just a debt of honor. He laughed off my threats to leave, convinced that my heart was too soft to ever truly walk away. I watched as he prioritized Lucia's shrill demands over our future, his arrogance blind to the fact that my patience had finally turned to ash. I had survived his brawls and his lies, but I was done being collateral in a game I never asked to play. How many times could I forgive a man who traded my life for another woman’s vanity? Why had I stayed so long, waiting for a man who didn't even know how to protect his own future? I walked into the Syndicate clinic, not to nurse his wounds, but to reclaim my passport. I didn't look back as I signed the papers to disappear into a high-security black site in Iceland. I was finished with Ciro, the soldier who fought for everyone except the woman waiting for him in the dark./1/104657/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260210175843&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Protected By The Enforcer: My Ex-Husband's Regret
The rejection letter from the private security school arrived on a Tuesday. It stated clearly that the single slot allocated to my son, Danny, had been filled by another boy. My husband, a high-ranking Capo, had signed away our son’s protection to make room for his mistress’s bastard. He sneered at me, calling Danny "soft," and sent him to an unguarded cabin in the north to toughen up. Three days later, the Russians took him. When the courier arrived, there was no ransom demand. Just a package containing a shred of blue cotton with a green T-Rex, soaked in black, stiff blood. Tom didn't shed a tear. He poured a scotch, stepped over me as I wept on the floor, and blamed me for coddling the boy. Overwhelmed by the silence of a house that would never hear my son's laughter again, I swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills to escape the pain. But the darkness didn't last. I woke up gasping, my heart hammering against my ribs. Sunlight hit my face. "Mommy?" Danny stood in the doorway, wearing his dinosaur pajamas, whole and alive. I looked at the calendar. It was May 15th. The day the letter arrived. The grief in my chest calcified into cold rage. I knew about the skimming. I knew about the fake widow status. I knew exactly how to bury my husband. I picked up the phone and dialed the one number no wife was ever supposed to call directly—the Enforcer. "I have evidence of treason," I said. "And I'm bringing the proof."/0/57883/coverorgin.jpg?v=d8087e3824763144e230363b9773f67c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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Too Late, Mr. Capo: Your Wife Is Gone
"Happy Anniversary," my husband said, sliding the separation agreement across the mahogany desk. It was the eighteenth time in five years I had signed these papers. Matteo De Luca, the most ruthless Capo in New York, checked his Rolex with cold impatience. "Sign it, Sera. Bianca is on the ledge again. She needs to see we're over, or she jumps." Bianca. The ward. The broken bird. The woman whose fragile psyche dictated every moment of my marriage. I signed my name, and he left me alone on our anniversary to save her. Again. But saving her wasn't enough. When Bianca pushed me down a flight of marble stairs in a fit of jealous rage, shattering my spine and leaving me paralyzed, I thought Matteo would finally choose me. I was wrong. I woke up in the hospital to find him holding her hand, not mine. "The security footage has been wiped," he told me, his voice void of emotion. "We cannot have a scandal. You fell, Sera. That is the story." He erased the truth. He erased my pain. He protected the woman who crippled me over his own wife. Two months later, he wheeled me into a gala, playing the doting husband while I sat in the chair that was my prison. He didn't know I had a burner phone hidden in my velvet dress. He didn't know that tonight, the obedient wife was going to die on the pavement, and a ghost would rise in her place. I looked at him one last time and dropped the phone in his lap. "I hope she's worth it."/0/64297/coverorgin.jpg?v=098231fe87c6fbfe768c7bdf10fb66f5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Angel of Darkness : A Wife's Revenge
Elena Moretti's life takes a dramatic turn when her cruel husband divorces her on the day their premature baby dies. Betrayed and sold out by her husband and mother-in-law, Elena nearly falls into the hands of the brutal Darkmora gang. But fate brought her to Lorenzo Ricci, a mysterious man with extensive connections in Italy. Their sudden, theatrical marriage brings Elena into a world of luxury she never imagined. As feelings grow between them, Lorenzo helps Elena get back on her feet and avenge her. But behind Lorenzo's loving exterior lies a dark secret that could shake the entire world of the Italian mafia. Who is Lorenzo really? Why would a man as powerful and mysterious as him choose Elena? And what is his connection to Zonil Leone, the legendary but never-seen leader of the Clanostra? As Elena gets closer to uncovering the truth, she doesn't realize that she's gone too deep into the web of Italy's most powerful mafia. Will her love for Lorenzo survive the big secret that could change everything?/0/54129/coverorgin.jpg?v=850f4d0ddd65be32df749eec22455d88&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The seduction of desire
"In a world where duty and desire collide, Camila, a spirited model and actress, finds herself thrust into an arranged marriage with Eduardo, the brooding Don of the Spanish Mafia. As they navigate the complexities of their forced union, secrets, sacrifices, and simmering emotions come to light. Camila, longing for a connection with her distant husband, is met with walls of indifference and harsh truths. Eduardo, bound by duty and past choices, struggles to balance his responsibilities with his growing feelings for his unexpected wife. Will they find a way to bridge the gap between them, or will their marriage be torn apart by their conflicting worlds and unspoken desires?"/1/110134/coverorgin.jpg?v=29062b2e36c41e8f3927f54afae1aeff&imageMogr2/format/webp)
I Left The Jester For The King
"Little Siren: I miss your hands on me." That message lit up the screen of a burner phone I found in my fiancé's jacket pocket while he was in the shower. Franco Moretti, the rising star of the Vitiello crime family, treated me like a fragile glass doll. He claimed he was "saving himself" for our wedding night out of respect. But the phone told a different story. I unlocked it and found three years of betrayal. It wasn't just a fling. It was Camilla, a girl from high school I had befriended out of pity. I watched their history unfold. He complained that I was cold. He called me a statue. Then I saw the invoice. He had bought two identical pink diamond engagement rings. One for me, and one for her. Worse, he had stolen my grandmother' s heirloom jade bracelet-a piece of history meant for his bride-and given it to his mistress. "I need her name to get the chair," he texted her. "You are my true Queen." I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I realized I wasn't a person to him; I was a ladder. Leaving him would be too easy. Leaving is what victims do. I walked to my laptop and opened a new document. I wasn't just going to cancel the wedding. I was going to broadcast his ruin to the entire underworld, and our wedding would be my stage. Then, I picked up the phone and dialed the one number my father forbade me to call. "I accept," I told the deep voice on the other end. "You understand what you are agreeing to, Gianna?" Enzo Falcone asked. "I understand," I said, looking at the New York skyline. "You want an alliance. I want a weapon."/0/98558/coverorgin.jpg?v=7c4d5b67fa1e5111f0e4c0217f9b8e68&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Ex-Husband's Billion-Dollar Regret
The last thing I remember is my fiancé, Cayden, toasting to our future. The first thing I hear when I wake up in a hospital is him telling the city's most feared Don to pretend to be my fiancé instead. A doctor says I have severe neurological damage. Amnesia. Then, my best friend, Vivian—the girl I considered a sister—walks in. Her hand is linked through Cayden's arm, her head resting on his shoulder. They look like a perfect, loving couple. I hear Cayden's frantic voice in the hallway, not even bothering to whisper. "Please, Liam," he begs the Don, Liam Hewitt. "Just do me this one favor. I need a break from all her marriage talk." Then his voice turns slick with temptation. "As her 'fiancé,' you can finally get her to sign the demolition agreement for the Owen manor. She'll do anything you ask." My heart turns to a pile of cold, dead ash. The man I loved and the woman I trusted didn't just betray me. They tried to erase me. When they all step back into my room, I steady myself. I look past Cayden, past Vivian, and fix my eyes on the most dangerous man in the city. A faint smile touches my lips. "Only you feel familiar," I say to Liam Hewitt, my voice a soft, broken thing. "Fiancé," I say, the word tasting like poison and opportunity. "I'm sorry, I seem to have forgotten your name. Take me home."/0/88859/coverorgin.jpg?v=d120edfc595220e29f599bab7a546f88&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Mafia Prince's Hidden Baby
The Mafia Prince's Hidden Baby A Secret. A War. A Love That Refuses to Die. Five years ago, Aria Russo made the hardest choice of her life-disappearing with the Mafia Prince's unborn child to protect them both from a world of blood and betrayal. She never expected Lorenzo Valentini, the cold and ruthless heir to New York's most feared crime family, to find her again. But secrets never stay buried in the Mafia. When a failed assassination attempt pulls Aria back into Lorenzo's dangerous orbit, the truth is revealed: the Valentini heir has a son. A hidden prince. Now, with enemies closing in and old betrayals igniting a deadly war, Lorenzo will stop at nothing to protect the family he never knew he had. But as passion reignites and long-buried emotions rise to the surface, the lines between love and power blur. Can Aria survive the ruthless world she tried to escape? "She hid his child to save them. Now, he'll burn the world to protect them." Will Lorenzo choose vengeance-or the future only Aria and their son can give him? In a world ruled by loyalty and blood, love might be the most dangerous weapon of all./1/117331/coverorgin.jpg?v=fb29a53db0396d55ba80e8da707be863&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Unwanted Ex Begs For Second Chances
Three years ago, my fiancée Elena left me at the altar on a twisted dare, humiliating me in front of our entire mafia syndicate. Today, she blocked my headquarters with nine armored cars, demanding I divorce my pregnant wife and serve her again. "Hiring a pregnant woman to make me jealous is a bit desperate, Liam," she sneered, tossing a cheap ring at my feet. When I ignored her to escort my wife, Sienna, to her medical checkup, Elena's childhood friend Julian deliberately lunged at Sienna's swollen stomach. I threw myself in the way to take the brutal impact, but the shockwave sent Sienna to the emergency room with a threatened miscarriage. Even as the medical staff scrambled to save my unborn heir, Elena grabbed my sleeve to defend the man who caused it. "He made a mistake! Why are you holding onto a grudge?" she cried, insisting I was just throwing a tantrum to get her attention. For seven years, I took bullets to secure her family's territory, only to be discarded like a stray dog when she got bored. What made her think I would spend three years waiting to be her loyal servant, let alone forgive the attempted murder of my child? Looking at her entitled, delusional face, the last shred of my restraint turned to ash. I pulled out my phone to broadcast the security footage to the entire underworld, and calmly ordered my men to erase her family from existence./1/110761/coverorgin.jpg?v=5f62be146d32e2421625ed7e8223ae22&imageMogr2/format/webp)
