Emma Mountford
2 Published Stories
Emma Mountford's Books and Stories
Savage Sons MC complete series
Romance Havoc - Havoc
A sweet like honey accent and a pair of hips I couldn't keep my eyes off. That's how it started. Darcie Summers was playing the part of my old lady to keep herself safe but we both know it's more than that. There's something real between us. Something passionate and primal.Something my half brother's stupidity will rip apart unless I can get to her in time.
Darcie
A pretend outlaw boyfriend to keep me safe until I could go home. It all sounded so easy. Until I started to get to know him. Until he kissed me. And then I was lost. I need Havoc more than I've ever needed another person. Especially now, when my ex fiances betrayal threatens my very life.
Cyber - Cyber
Everyone has that ONE person that got away, right?
The one who you wished you had treated differently.
For me, that girl has always been Iris.
So when she turns up on Savage Sons territory needing help, I am the man for the job.
The only man for the job.
Every time I look at her I see the beautiful girl I left behind but Iris is no longer that girl.
What I put into motion years ago has shattered her into a million hard little pieces.
And if I'm not careful they will cut my heart out.
Iris
He still sees the weak girl I was years ago, I can see it in his eyes every time he looks at me. Cyber thinks I need saving.
He thinks he can save the day.
But there's one thing he hasn't worked out yet....He's the villain in this story...
Fang- Fang.
The first time I saw her, she was sat on the side of the road drinking whiskey straight from the bottle.
The second time was when I hit her dog.
I had promised myself never to get involved with another woman after the death of my wife.
But Gypsy Rose was different.
Sweeter, kinder and with a mouth that could make a sailor blush.
She was also too good for me.
I am Fang, President of the Savage Sons. I am not a good man, I've taken more lives than I care to admit even to myself.
I am the total opposite of the free-spirited Gypsy Rose.
But I'm going to keep her anyway.
Gypsy Rose
Relocating was meant to be a fresh start.
A chance to start over.
It wasn't a lot to ask,
Until the president of the local motorcycle club started taking an interest in me.
I shouldn't want Fang. He is everything I despise in a man.
Too alpha, too loud and worst of all he knows how to press all of my buttons.
But he isn't the only man after me.
And when my past catches up with me, not even the president of the Savage Sons MC will be able to escape it.
Monster- Monster
They call me Monster, and no one can blame them. I am the man the Savage Sons call in when they want something really unsavoury doing.
My job was meant to be simple, seduce the police chiefs daughter and leak the pictures to the press.
No biggie.
Except now I've kissed, touched and tasted her. I can't get enough.
She might have the face of an angel but I'm not fooled. Angela is as dark and twisted as I am.
The devil in her might just give my monster a run for its money.
Angela
He calls me angel but that couldn't be further from the truth.
I am no angel. A darkness lives inside of me.
One that rivals even his.
Monster should be careful.
Theres no going back when you get into bed with the devil.
Hansel - Hansel
I didn't mean to say the words; they just fell out of my mouth.
And the moment I said them, I wished I could take them back.
I was angry at her, and she was always angry at me. We had wanted to hurt each other. That was why the words came screaming out of my mouth. And I knew... I just knew that I had gone too far.
The way she recoiled from me was a punch to the gut. I tried, I really tried to form the words to make her believe I hadn't meant it.
But by then it was too late.
The front door had already slammed shut behind her.
I knew it was the end of our marriage, the end of the life we had always dreamt of having with one another.
The end of me and her.
One sentence and my life imploded before my eyes.
And now she is back and embroiled in a dangerous game of cat and mouse with a killer. And she's firmly on his radar... the worst thing though?
The killer just might be someone we know.
Who am I meant to trust, if I can't trust, my brothers in The Savage Sons?
I won't fail her though, not ever again.
When this is all over, she will be mine again and this time I won't be letting her go.
It's time we got our happily ever after.
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Rejected by the Son, I Chose the Don
Rabbit On my wedding day, my father sold me to the Chicago Outfit to pay his debts. I was supposed to marry Alex Moreno, the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. But he couldn't even be bothered to show up.
As I stood alone at the altar, humiliated, my best friend delivered the final blow. Alex hadn't just stood me up; he had run off to California with his mistress.
The whispers in the cathedral turned me into a joke. I was damaged goods, the rejected bride. His family knew the whole time and let me take the public fall, offering me his cousins as pathetic replacements-a brute who hated me or a coward who couldn't protect me.
The humiliation burned away my fear, leaving only cold rage. My life was already over, so I decided to set the whole game on fire myself. The marriage pact only said a Carlson had to marry a Moreno; it never said which one.
With nothing left to lose, I looked past the pathetic boys they offered.
I chose the one man they never expected.
I chose his father, the Don himself.
My Husband's Brother Owns My Secret
Rabbit My marriage to Joshua Caldwell was a prison sentence. I was a Hartman trophy, sold to the powerful family who had destroyed mine.
Then I discovered he was cheating. His mistress was pregnant with the child he denied me, and he was stealing my secret song lyrics to build her career. When I confronted him, he called me a spineless liability and threatened to destroy what was left of my family.
To make matters worse, a one-night stand with a stranger turned out to be with my husband's brother, Anthony Caldwell-the Don of the city. He knew all of Joshua's secrets and used them to trap me in a twisted game, seeing me as nothing more than an asset.
They both thought I was a broken doll they could control.
I wrote a song for his mistress, a beautiful execution with a single, impossible note I knew would destroy her voice.
She sang it, and now her career is over.
Now the Don has summoned me to Chicago, not knowing the woman he thinks is his asset is the one who just burned his brother's world to the ground. The Underboss's Wife, Now His Queen
Hydro Therapy I stood outside my husband's study, the perfect mafia wife, only to hear him mocking me as an "ice sculpture" while he entertained his mistress, Aria.
But the betrayal went deeper than infidelity.
A week later, my saddle snapped mid-jump, leaving me with a shattered leg. Lying in the hospital bed, I overheard the conversation that killed the last of my love.
My husband, Alessandro, knew Aria had sabotaged my gear. He knew she could have killed me.
Yet, he told his men to let it go. He called my near-death experience a "lesson" because I had bruised his mistress's ego.
He humiliated me publicly, freezing my accounts to buy family heirlooms for her. He stood by while she threatened to leak our private tapes to the press.
He destroyed my dignity to play the hero for a woman he thought was a helpless orphan.
He had no idea she was a fraud.
He didn't know I had installed micro-cameras throughout the estate while he was busy pampering her.
He didn't know I had hours of footage showing his "innocent" Aria sleeping with his guards, his rivals, and even his staff, laughing about how easy he was to manipulate.
At the annual charity gala, in front of the entire crime family, Alessandro demanded I apologize to her.
I didn't beg. I didn't cry.
I simply connected my drive to the main projector and pressed play. You Chose Her, Now Watch Me Leave
Sophia Langley For five years, I was married to the most feared Mafia Don in New York.
But my husband's heart only had room for one woman: my fragile, manipulative half-sister, Siena.
He constantly used his absolute authority to protect her, even forgetting my deadly genetic allergy just to cater to her meals.
The ultimate betrayal came during a hostage exchange with a rogue faction at the freezing East Docks.
The kidnapper pressed a gun to Siena's head and demanded a one-for-one trade. The Mafia Queen for the sweet civilian.
My husband and my son didn't hesitate for a single second.
"Walk forward, Tessa," Cassio commanded, his voice devoid of any hesitation.
"Go save my aunt!" my young son screamed from the car.
I was shoved toward the ruthless mobsters and dragged onto their idling smuggling boat.
When I looked back, Cassio was hurriedly wrapping his warm coat around Siena's shivering shoulders. He didn't look at me. Not even once.
In that freezing rain, I finally realized my absolute worthlessness. I was never a wife or a mother; I was just a disposable bargaining chip.
Memories of a past life suddenly flooded my mind—a life where I withered away in a cage, dying alone while Cassio stood over my hospital bed and whispered his final words.
"I wish I had met Siena first."
I looked down at the freezing, black ocean churning below the edge of the boat.
An underground extractor had already prepared my new identity in Switzerland.
With a sudden jerk, I ripped my arm out of the mobster's grip and stepped backward off the edge of the boat.
This time, I chose to live for myself. The Discarded Wife Is A Mafia Queen
Shore Tour I am the wife of Dante Moretti, a powerful Mafia Underboss. But in secret, I am "Spettro," the phantom architect who built his entire encrypted bootlegging empire.
On my birthday, I came home to find him gifting our five-year-old daughter the exact plush toy he had violently slapped out of my hands months ago. Only this time, he was giving it to his mistress, Adriana, to present as her own.
"Auntie Adriana is a million times better than Mommy."
My daughter's innocent words pierced my heart, while Dante coldly dismissed my presence, treating me like an unwelcome stranger interrupting their perfect family. He mocked my mothering, allowed his mistress to sever my desperate phone calls with my child, and weaponized his power to break our daughter's spirit just to spite me. He sneered that my only purpose was to stay quiet, absolutely certain I would crawl back the second my allowance ran dry.
He thought I was just a weak, submissive wife who had lost everything. He didn't realize that the empire he arrogantly ruled was entirely built on my stolen brilliance.
I left my diamond ring on the table, violently slashed our ancient blood oath in half, and walked out of his gilded cage forever.
Sitting in a cold warehouse, I placed my hands on my telegraph machine and initiated the Ghost Protocol to permanently paralyze his entire criminal network.
The era of playing the dutiful wife was over. I am Donna Falcone, and the vendetta has just begun. Too Late For Regret: The Mafia King's Runaway
Tangye Wanzi I watched my husband, the most feared Capo in New York, sign away our marriage with the same cold indifference he usually reserved for ordering a hit.
The nib of his Montblanc pen scratched against the paper, drowning out the rain hitting the coffee shop window.
He didn't bother to read a single word.
He thought he was signing routine shipping manifests for the family business.
In reality, he was signing the "Dissolution of Union" papers I had hidden beneath the cover sheet.
He was too distracted to check. His eyes were glued to his encrypted phone, frantically texting Sofia—the widow, the tragic beauty, the woman who had haunted our marriage for three years.
"Done," he grunted, tossing the stack into his armored SUV without even glancing at me.
"Business is concluded, Elena. We leave."
Moments later, his phone rang with her special emergency tone.
His demeanor shifted from cold boss to frantic protector instantly.
"Driver, divert. She needs me," he roared.
He looked at me with zero affection and ordered, "Get out, Elena. Luca will take you home."
He kicked me out of the car into the pouring rain to rush to his mistress, completely unaware he had just legally granted me my freedom.
I stood on the curb, shivering but smiling for the first time in years.
By the time the Don realizes he just signed his own divorce, I will be a ghost in San Francisco.
And he will have nothing left but his shipping logs and his regret. Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles
Dorine Koestler I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved.
He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again.
"Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports.
For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian.
In return, he treated me like furniture.
He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste.
I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home.
So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco.
I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage.
But I underestimated Dante.
When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat.
He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away. Mafia Wife's Revenge: Unleashing My Fury
Alfred For five years, I lived a beautiful lie. I was Aliana Hughes, the cherished wife of the city's most feared Mafia Capo and the beloved daughter of the Don. I believed my arranged marriage had blossomed into love.
On my birthday, my husband promised me the amusement park. Instead, I found him there with his other family, celebrating the fifth birthday of the son I never knew he had.
I overheard their plan. My husband called me a "naive fool," a placeholder to legitimize his secret son. The ultimate betrayal wasn't his affair, but the sight of my own father's car parked across the street. My family wasn't just aware; they were the architects of my ruin.
Back home, I found the proof: a secret photo album of my husband's other family posing with my parents, and records showing my father had bankrolled the entire deception. They had even drugged me on weekends so he could play happy family.
The grief didn't break me. It turned into something cold and sharp. I was a ghost in a life that was never mine, and a ghost has nothing to lose.
I copied every damning file onto a USB drive. As they celebrated their perfect day, I sent a courier with my parting gift: a recording of their treachery. While their world burned, I walked toward the airport, ready to erase myself and start over.