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Mafia Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
The Mafia Don's Regret: She Is Gone Forever

The Mafia Don's Regret: She Is Gone Forever

I carried the first word I had spoken in ten years like a sacred offering, ready to surprise the man who had saved my life. But through the crack in the study door, I heard Josiah tell his Underboss that I was nothing but a noose around his neck. "Grace is a burden," he said, his voice cold. "I can't become Don while babysitting a mute ghost. Lexi brings power. Grace brings nothing but silence." He chose to marry the Mafia Princess for her father's trade routes, dismissing me as wreckage. But the true betrayal didn't happen in that office. It happened in the woods during an ambush. With bullets flying and the mud sliding beneath us into a ravine, Josiah had to make a choice. I was injured, trapped at the bottom. Lexi was screaming on the ridge. He looked at me, mouthed "I'm sorry," and turned his back. He hauled Lexi to safety to secure his alliance. He left me to die alone in the freezing mud. I lay there in the dark, realizing the man who swore a blood oath to protect me had traded my life for a political seat. He thought the silence would finally swallow me whole. He was wrong. I crawled out of that grave and vanished from his world completely. Three years later, I returned to the city, not as his broken ward, but as a world-renowned artist. When Josiah showed up at my gallery, looking shattered and begging for forgiveness, I didn't sign. I looked him dead in the eye and spoke. "The girl who loved you died in that ravine, Josiah."
A Second Chance With Mr. Blackwood

A Second Chance With Mr. Blackwood

In the roaring flames of the abandoned warehouse, my skin blistered and peeled. Through the crackling fire, my sister Elara's malicious voice echoed. She told me my husband, Damien, was dead, and it was all my fault. For years, I had treated Damien like a monster. I fought him, threw tantrums, and desperately tried to escape our marriage, all because I blindly followed Elara's advice. "Remember, the harder you fight, the more disgusted he'll get." She texted me things like that, telling me to smash vases over his head and run away, claiming she was protecting me. In reality, she was poisoning my mind, stealing my valedictorian spot at university, and plotting to crawl into my billionaire husband's bed. My foolish rebellion cost me everything, ultimately leading to Damien's tragic death and my own fiery end. As the massive explosion tore my consciousness to shreds, I finally understood who truly loved me and who the real monster was. I died suffocating on my own agonizing regret, wishing I could tear Elara apart. Then, a rush of freezing air punched into my lungs. I opened my eyes to the crisp scent of cedar and mint. I was back seven years ago, on the very night our marriage was supposed to go to hell. This time, looking at Damien's flawless, unscarred face, I didn't push him away. I wrapped my arms around his neck and made a silent vow: I would make every single person who ever hurt him bleed.
Jilted Fiancée To The Underworld Queen

Jilted Fiancée To The Underworld Queen

"Siena, the syndicate's European expansion needs a bodyguard. Let me borrow your fiancé for three years." Exactly seven days before my high-profile mafia wedding, the best friend I considered a sister sat comfortably on my custom Italian sofa and made this absurd demand. She tapped the faint scar on her collarbone, the supposed proof that she had taken a bullet for me, now weaponized to guilt-trip me. "You owe me a life, remember? I'm not asking for your money or your territory. I'm just borrowing a man." Any honorable man would have sternly refused at a moment like this. But Lorenzo, the man I had loved for seven whole years, merely adjusted his expensive cuffs and smiled. "It's just business, Siena," he promised solemnly. "Three years will pass in a blink. When I return, our wedding will proceed exactly as planned. You've always been so understanding. Be a good, obedient mafia wife and don't make me worry, okay?" As he reached out, wanting to hold my hand, a wave of intense, physical revulsion violently churned in my stomach. I saw the unmistakable smudge of foundation on his crisp white collar. And the diamond promise bracelet he had given me, which had been missing for a long time, was now gleaming on Lucia's wrist. The truth hit me like a basin of ice water dumped over my head. The man I was about to marry was already sleeping with my best friend. The seven years of youth and devotion I had sacrificed for this man instantly turned to ash. I pulled out my phone, opened an encrypted channel, and sent a single message to my mother: "The engagement with Lorenzo is off. I am ready to meet the man you have been telling me about."