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Mafia Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
Sold To The Mafia Heir

Sold To The Mafia Heir

Sold to the highest bidder to pay off a blood feud, I never imagined I would be the pawn in my father's fatal game. Still, here I am before Enzo De Luca, the most vicious mafia leader in the city. Though appealing, he is cold, deliberate, and as lethal. Though my heart races just from his proximity, it is his touch that ignites me. My body betrays me and reacts to him in ways I am powerless over. And I melt as he softly, commandingly says my name. Enzo loves neither me nor another. In his deadly kingdom, I am only another bargain, another transaction. But every time we are alone, the conflict between us snaps-desire becomes a terrible addiction. Although I detest him for everything he stands for, I yearn for the way he consumes me, body and soul. He has made it quite evident-our marriage is more about power than love. Still, every angry gaze and every snatched moment in the shadow reveals something different. Benevolent underneath his icy façade lies something broken that appeals to the darkest sides of me. But depending on a man like Enzo may mean losing everything. Bound to him now, for better or worse, I am caught in a world where loyalty is brittle and treachery carries a bullet. Our friendship gets more perilous the more truths about his empire I find. And as the past calls for us, I have to question myself: will our passion be the thing that ruins us both or can I survive loving a guy like Enzo De Luca? Burning in his arms is me. But in his universe, I could roast alive.
The Real Boss Was His Neglected Wife

The Real Boss Was His Neglected Wife

I was putting my signature on the invoice for the Gulfstream G650 when my husband snatched the boarding pass from the folder and handed it to his mistress. "You're taking the commercial flight out of JFK," Jackson said, daring me to challenge him in front of his security detail. "Amber needs the privacy. She gets air sick." I looked down at the crumpled ticket he had slid to me. Economy. Middle seat. Three layovers. Then I looked at the sixty-million-dollar bird I had leased specifically so his crime family wouldn't get slaughtered on the highway by their rivals. "Amber is fragile," he whispered, his breath smelling of the expensive scotch I bought. "She carries the future. You just carry the checkbook." My mother-in-law was already on board, sipping the vintage Dom Pérignon I had curated, refusing to look at me. They treated me like a glorified ATM with a medical degree. They forgot that five years ago, when the Feds froze everything, I was the one who bought their lives with a five-million-dollar tribute. They forgot that the hand that writes the checks can also close the account. As the engines roared to life, leaving me stranded on the tarmac, I didn't cry. Surgeons don't cry over dead bodies. I pulled out my phone and cancelled the Uber he had called for me. I wasn't going to the airport. I was going to the safe to retrieve the "Blood Contract." The five million dollars wasn't a gift. It was a callable loan. And the collateral was everything. I dialed my lawyer. "Burn it to the ground."
Too Late To Beg: The Don's Regret

Too Late To Beg: The Don's Regret

I was still bleeding into the mesh underwear the hospital gave me when the photos hit the internet: my husband, the Don, forcing his tongue down his mistress's throat. Three days ago, that very mistress had shoved me off a yacht. I lost the baby. I lost my uterus. I was left completely barren. Yet, when my husband finally called, it wasn't to ask if I was alive. "The press is eating us alive," Dante barked through the phone. "Send a gift basket to Sofia. Fix this mess." To make matters worse, his grandmother stood at the foot of my bed, holding the hand of the daughter they had stolen from me at birth. "Mommy looks like a ghost," my daughter said, her voice devoid of love. That was the moment the last ember of affection died. I realized I wasn't a wife to them; I was just a broken vessel. So, when they sneered that I was useless, I didn't cry. I pulled a black USB drive from under my pillow and threw it on the bed. "Divorce papers," I said calmly. "And the complete security blueprints of the Moretti Fortress. Every blind spot. Every tunnel I designed." "Sign the papers and let me go, or I sell this drive to your enemies for one dollar." I left the country with nothing but the clothes on my back, vanishing into a freezing attic in Paris. I thought I was finally free. But three weeks later, Dante kicked down my door, looking at my poverty with horror. "Come home," he begged, tossing a box of diamonds onto my drafting table. "We can be a family." I looked at the man who had destroyed me and opened the window. "You're looking for the girl who loved you," I whispered, throwing the diamonds into the trash alley below. "But you killed her."
Dante's Law

Dante's Law

In a world ruled by power, betrayal, and blood feuds, two lives collide in a whirlwind of violence and forbidden love. Dante Bianchi, a fearsome mafia boss with a cold heart and ruthless precision, is torn between his thirst for revenge and an unexpected passion for Francesca, the fiery daughter of a baker whose father's unpaid debts plunge her into Dante's dangerous world. Francesca, a woman of fierce independence and sharp wit, refuses to be a pawn in anyone's game, least of all Dante's. What begins as a master-owner relationship quickly transforms as Francesca's strength and spirit spark something inside Dante he thought long dead. Yet, their love is threatened at every turn by the criminal empire that binds them. As their bond deepens, so does the war between Dante and his enemies, particularly Enrico Rossi, a rival mob boss seeking to avenge the brutal death of his brother, Lorenzo, at Dante's hands. Enrico vows to destroy everything Dante holds dear, triggering a battle for supremacy that leaves blood in its wake. With betrayal lurking in every shadow, Dante must navigate the murky underworld with cunning, facing threats from all sides. As the conflict spirals, family loyalties, past grievances, and love collide in a violent storm. With Francesca's life hanging in the balance, Dante and Enrico waging war, only one question remains-who will emerge victorious when the smoke clears, and at what cost?
His Obsession, My Revenge: A Mafia Second Life

His Obsession, My Revenge: A Mafia Second Life

I woke up in the tangled black silk sheets of the Mafia Don's bed, my skin still burning from his ruthless touch in the dark. The heavy door burst open, and his pristine wife, Bianca, looked at my bruised collarbones with visceral hatred. Instead of having me killed for soiling her husband's bed, she offered a devil's bargain. "You will take my place in his bed. You will be a shadow in the dark." In my past life, I foolishly accepted, thinking her money would pay for my dying mother's hospital bills. I didn't realize the untouchable Mafia Queen was barren and just needed a disposable incubator. After I endured the Don's violent possession and birthed the Moretti heir, they cut off my mother's medicine. Then, they dragged me to a remote warehouse and suffocated me with a wet mattress to bury their dirty secret forever. Until my last agonizing breath, I didn't understand why my absolute submission and suffering were rewarded with such a brutal, meaningless death. Opening my eyes again, I was back on the morning after the Don first claimed me. I knelt on the Persian rug, weeping tears of fake gratitude as Bianca handed me the cash. But the moment my escort looked away, I didn't take her fertility herbs. I bought a bitter root from an alley witch to keep my womb empty. This time, I won't give the Don a child. I'll become his darkest obsession, and use his lethal power to burn this entire family to the ground.
He Traded A Diamond For Cheap Glass

He Traded A Diamond For Cheap Glass

I was the "Ice Queen," the perfect Mafia wife who managed the De Luca empire's millions while my husband, Alessandro, played the part of the feared Underboss. I thought my silence and competence earned me respect. That was until I woke up in the estate's medical bay with a shattered leg. My saddle had snapped mid-jump. It wasn't wear and tear; it was sabotage. Lying in the dark, feigning sleep, I heard Alessandro whispering outside my door with his enforcer. "The buckle was filed down," the enforcer said urgently. "Aria tampered with it. She could have broken her neck." I waited for Alessandro’s rage. I waited for him to execute the mistress who tried to kill his wife. Instead, his voice was cold and dismissive. "Bury it," Alessandro ordered. "It’s just a broken leg. Aria was upset about the credit cards. She just wanted to teach Katarina a lesson." A lesson. My husband wasn't just cheating on me; he was protecting the woman who tried to cripple me. Three days later, at the Family Charity Gala, he humiliated me publicly. He outbid me for my grandmother's heirloom necklace and clasped it around Aria's neck while I watched from my wheelchair. He thought I was broken. He thought I was just a piece of furniture to be rearranged. He didn't know I had bugged the entire villa while I was recovering. He didn't know I had the recordings of what Aria was really doing when he wasn't looking. I gripped the USB drive in my pocket and signaled the tech team to lock the doors. The statue was broken, but he was about to learn that shattered ice is sharp enough to slit a throat.
Too Late: The Spare Daughter Escapes Him

Too Late: The Spare Daughter Escapes Him

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.
The Mafia Inlove

The Mafia Inlove

Bang! Bang! Loud gunshots all around. I look around to find my son and my wife, they are missing, d*mn. "Daddy Zach!" I heard my son scream at their damn father. A long short story, I will explain it, but soon. "D*mn, baby come here to papa Rus!" I called the twins and they immediately came. "Where is your dad?" I'm nervous to ask here. They are crying. "Okay, shhhh papa Rus is here, don't cry baby." "Papa Rus, dada and papa Zach are missing.." cried one of the twins. "Okay, I'll find them okay?" He nodded while wiping away the tears. I really need to find them, especially my Sail. "Stay here and don't ever go out okay?" I kissed them both on the forehead before leaving. I never thought that one of our enemy's men would be able to shoot me, I was shot in the shoulder. I saw Sail on the side, he was sitting with his yellow hands covering his ears, I look at Zach who is fighting Helvet, our enemy. I first shot the gun at the person standing next to me, it hit him right. "Sail! Shhh let's go!" I tried to pull it but he didn't want to leave Zach. "No! Zach, Zach is here I won't leave him!" I sighed and carried him in a bridal style, it was struggling but I was strong, I lowered it to where the twins were hiding. "Please Rus, bring Zach back." I slowly nod even though feeling a heavy feeling inside my chest. He loves Zach. I went to the devil who was shooting a while ago. "Zach! Let's go!" I called here during the shooting, when he saw me he yelled at me angrily. "F*ck you left them?!" He responded angrily to me. "Sail wants me to go back with you so shut up!" I left there to go to Sail but then... Helvet... he was holding the twins while Sail was lying on his chin, Sail is dead... and my son in his tummy... my son.. yes Sail is pregnant with my child.