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Mafia Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
Mafias Kidnapped Wife

Mafias Kidnapped Wife

Nikolai was facing me. Those full lips stretched into a wolfish grin, strong arms flexing at his side and those honey coloured eyes piercing through my soul. Gods, you really took your time with this one. He was so damn beautiful. I gulped and Nial skid to my left his hot body centimetres away from mine, his musky fresh scent enveloping me and those eyes. Those fucking brown eyes, warm and so full of love. His smooth skin glinting in the lit hallway just begging to be kissed and licked. "Like what you see, Love?" Nikolai muttered, sensual and that accent did things to me. My pussy throbbed involuntarily shutting out any comprehensible bone in my body, my brain included. My cheeks burned for eyeing them so shamelessly and I slightly shifted on my feet bumping into Nadei's front making me blush even more. "Love, we're going to kiss you, now." **** Nineteen year old Sofia never had thought that her kindness was a bad thing. Always trying to help those in need and always doing it with a bright, beautiful smile on her face. She was the epitome of an angel to most. But one fateful night had changed everything in her life. After saving a strange handsome man, she found herself thrust into a whirlpool of desire and possession. The handsome turned out to be the most infamous, dangerous Russian Mafia. What's worse, there are more than one man that want her so much. Three Mafia brothers kidnapped their shared wife, and never wanna let her go. Will she successfully run away?
Rising From Ashes: The Architect's Comeback

Rising From Ashes: The Architect's Comeback

I woke up in a sterile hospital room with no memory of the lethal-looking man pacing outside the glass. My friend told me he was Dante Moretti, the Underboss of Chicago, and the fiancé I had supposedly worshipped for seven years. But the truth shattered me faster than the crash did. When our convoy was ambushed and the car caught fire, Dante didn't pull me out. He chose to save Valeria—the widow of a soldier he felt guilty about—leaving me to burn in the backseat. He called it a "tactical decision." I called it a death sentence. I thought losing my memory was a curse, but it was a gift. It stripped away the delusion of love. I saw a man who treated me like a useful piece of furniture. I saw a rival in Valeria who smirked while taking my job and my place. When she set a room on fire to frame me, Dante saved her again, leaving me to choke on the smoke. He even branded me a thief in front of the entire Commission to protect her lies. He thought I would always be there, the obedient statue waiting for his scraps. He was wrong. I fled to New York and walked straight into the arms of his sworn enemy, Enzo Falcone. A man who didn't just promise to protect me, but walked through fire to do it. Months later, when Dante finally realized the truth and crawled back to me in the rain, begging for a second chance, I looked him dead in the eye. "Forgetting you was the only peace I ever knew." I took Enzo’s hand, letting Dante see exactly what he had lost. "Remembering you just confirmed that you are a mistake I will never make again."
The Unwanted Fiancée Is A Legend

The Unwanted Fiancée Is A Legend

For three years, I played the role of the submissive, boring fiancée to pay off a blood debt. My mother gave her kidney to save the Moretti Matriarch, and in return, I was promised to Dante, the heir. A life for a life. I cleaned his estate and wore his ring while he treated me like furniture. But my silence only bought me humiliation. Dante didn't just cheat; he brought his mistress, Roxy, into our home for dinner. He called me a "glorified housekeeper" on a recording and then broke our engagement via an Instagram post, tagging me to ensure the entire underworld saw my shame. When I went to return the family crest, they wanted a show. Roxy mocked me in front of Dante’s soldiers, snatched my mother’s antique jade pendant—the only thing I had left of her—and shattered it on the dirty club floor. Dante laughed, thinking I was helpless. They thought I was a hothouse flower who would faint at the smell of exhaust. They didn't know the "boring" girl had a racing license hidden under the floorboards. They didn't know I was "Ghost," the legendary underground racer they all bet on. Roxy handed me a spectator ticket to the Death Race, telling me to watch how the big boys play. I took the ticket, but I didn't go to the stands. I walked to the starting line, put on my helmet, and decimated the track record. When I took off that helmet in the winner's circle, Dante’s face went pale. And when Lorenzo Falcone, the most dangerous man in the city, stepped out of the shadows to wipe the blood from my hand and claim me as his own, Dante realized the truth. He hadn't just lost a fiancée. He had signed his own death warrant.