nstypips
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A Debt In Blood
Mafia Chapter 1: BLOOD ON THE DOCKS
The scent of iron hung vividly in the air.
Lorenzo De Luca stepped into the dimly lit warehouse, his gaze immediately locked onto the body lying lifeless on the cold concrete floor soaked in a pool of his blood.
He was too late.
His jaw tightened as he took in the brutal scene. He had come to meet Miguel Vasquez, to collect information the man owed him, but it seems someone had gotten there first. And judging by the warmth of his body, it hadn't been long.
A slow, deliberate click of shoes against the floor pulled Lorenzo's attention to the shadows. The rival of the De Luca Empire since the dawn of time, Gabriel Moretti. He stepped forward, casually wiping a spot of blood from his cuff with a smile.
"Oh you missed the fun, De Luca," said Moretti, slipping his hands into the pockets of his expensive coat. "Shame. He had so much to say."
Lorenzo's expression didn't change, but tension waved through him. Vasquez had been useful, a man with connections, someone who owed him a debt. Killing him was a direct message.
And Moretti wanted him to hear it loud and clear.
Lorenzo exhaled slowly, forcing his temper to remain in check. "Sloppy," he said, tilting his head toward the mess on the floor. "Not your usual style."
Moretti chuckled. "Consider it a personal touch." His eyes shined with amusement. "Besides, it's not like you cared about him."
Lorenzo said nothing. He wouldn't give Moretti the satisfaction.
After a moment, Moretti sighed dramatically. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Unless, of course, you plan on stopping me?" His tone was mocking, a challenge laced into every word.
Lorenzo didn't take the bait. Moretti wasn't stupid enough to start a war, not here, not now. Instead, he watched in silence as Moretti walked toward the exit, and his men followed behind him.
The warehouse door slammed shut, leaving only the sound of blood dripping onto the concrete.
Lorenzo turned back to Vasquez's lifeless body. This wasn't just business. Moretti had taken something from him, and debts always had to be repaid.
A slight movement at the entrance caught his eye. Marco stepped inside, his face carefully neutral.
Lorenzo didn't look away from the body. "Clean this up."
Marco gave a short nod, already pulling out his phone to make the necessary arrangements.
Lorenzo stepped over the corpse without a second glance.
Miguel Vasquez had a daughter.
And she was about to learn what it meant to be in debt to the mafia.
"Debts have to be paid, one way or another." He said as he exited the warehouse.
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Betrayed by My Boyfriend, Claimed by the Mafia Boss
Krystal Catherine loved Marco with all her heart.
Until she discovered that he had betrayed her with her own sister.
Instead of defending Catherine, her family blamed her for standing in the way of their happiness. To them, she was nothing more than an unwanted daughter who had ruined the love story between Marco and the sister they had always favored.
So Catherine gave them exactly what they wanted.
She gave up Marco. She gave up the family that had never truly seen her as one of their own. Just when she thought her life couldn't get any worse, her parents sold her for twenty thousand dollars to an old, ugly man who had already been married once.
Catherine thought her life was over.
Then a stranger appeared and offered her a way out.
His name was Lorenzo.
He offered Catherine a contract marriage.
He needed a wife.
She needed protection.
It seemed like a simple arrangement, and Catherine never expected it to change her life forever.Because she didn't know who Lorenzo really was.
To the world, Lorenzo was a ruthless billionaire and the heir to one of the country's most powerful business empires.
Behind closed doors, he was far more dangerous.
He was the heir to a Mafia dynasty, a man who controlled an empire built on blood, fear, and absolute power.
When Lorenzo offered Catherine a marriage of convenience, she accepted without hesitation.
He needed a wife.
She needed protection.
Neither of them wanted love.
At least, that was what they told themselves.
But after Catherine became Mrs. Romano, Lorenzo's rules began to change. He wanted to know where she went, who she spoke to, and which man dared look at her for too long. The more Catherine tried to keep their marriage strictly business, the more possessive Lorenzo became.
He no longer wanted a temporary wife.
He wanted Catherine completely.
Then Marco finally realized he had made the biggest mistake of his life and came back for her. He expected Catherine to still be the woman who waited for him, forgave him, and accepted whatever affection he was willing to offer.
But Catherine was no longer that woman.
The daughter her family discarded had become the wife of the most dangerous man in the underworld.
And Lorenzo Romano would burn the world down before he let anyone take his wife away. 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.
Burned by Poison, Saved by the Devil
Gale Kaaya My cousin Hailey paid a dock worker to assault me just to ruin my engagement.
To survive the military-grade aphrodisiac she poisoned me with, I stumbled into a walk-in freezer and threw myself onto the only source of cold I could find-a man paralyzed by unnatural hypothermia.
It was a desperate, primal exchange of my heat for his ice just to keep my heart from stopping.
But when Hailey threw open the heavy iron door, leading my fiancé and the entire Bolton family to witness my "shame," her triumphant grin instantly vanished.
She hadn't caught me with a low-life thug.
She had caught me straddling Demetrius Maddox, the ruthless Iron King of Chicago.
The air in the room dropped to absolute zero. My grandmother screamed in horror, and my father turned the color of ash.
Hailey, blinded by jealousy, tried to double down. She pointed a manicured finger at the deadliest man in the city and called him a "nameless muscle" I picked up to defile the family name.
She didn't realize she had just signed her own death warrant.
I didn't cower. I realized this was the only chance to survive the family that wanted me dead.
I walked up to the Devil himself, my body still humming with the poison, and looked him in the eye.
"Kill me, and the cold inside you wins," I whispered, knowing he was dying from the inverse of my own poison. "I am the only doctor who knows how to cure you."
Demetrius tightened his hand around my throat, his dark eyes assessing my worth.
"Prove it," he growled.
I turned back to my trembling cousin and signaled the enforcer to hand me the whip. 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. 
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