Mafia Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Left To Burn, She Rose A Queen
I was the Chicago Outfit's princess, and Luca and Matteo were my sworn protectors. We had mixed our blood at ten years old, promising that nothing would ever touch me. But that oath turned to ash the night Sofia Ricci aimed a Roman candle at my chest. The firework slammed into my shoulder, igniting my silk dress instantly. As I rolled on the concrete, screaming while the flames ate into my skin, I waited for my boys to save me. They didn't. Instead, I watched through the smoke as they rushed to Sofia. They wrapped their jackets—the ones meant to shield me—around the girl who had just set me on fire, comforting her because the "kickback" had scared her. They let me burn to keep her warm. When I woke up in the hospital with permanent scars, they brought me a letter of apology from her and defended her "accident." They even cut their palms to pay her debt, ignoring the fact that I was the one in bandages. That was the moment Elena Vitiello died. I didn't scream. I didn't beg. I simply packed my bags and defected to the one place they couldn't follow: the arms of Dante Moretti, the lethal Capo of New York. By the time they realized their mistake and came crawling back to beg in the rain, I was already wearing another man's ring. "You want forgiveness?" I asked, looking down at them. "Burn for it."/1/114056/coverorgin.jpg?v=aebc9b0da0b25141cd3c699a0a69064d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Runaway Heiress's Defiant Comeback
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./1/110488/coverorgin.jpg?v=c761d0175da85c78d95f41418bd1e54d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Roses never fade
For seven years, I was his eyes. But the moment he regained his sight, he decided to marry someone else. Seven years of devotion couldn't buy his heart. I gave him back his dignity. Now that he was restored as the Godfather of the New York Mafia, he laughed with others, degrading me to the status of a mere "mistress." He thought I didn't understand Italian, but I heard him loud and clear: he was going to marry his first love. He arrogantly believed I would always love him, willing to stay in his penthouse like a caged bird. But he was wrong. I boarded a one-way flight to Australia. Dante, I don't want you anymore. By the time he returned home, he would have lost me forever. But a sore loser refuses to concede. Even if he had to burn the world to the ground, he would search for me and beg for my forgiveness./1/104648/coverorgin.jpg?v=56d188f1b06be17def0ec72b987cf0a4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Not For Sale: The Debt Is Paid
Seven years. That was the price tag attached to my father's life. When my father gambled away money he didn't have, Michael Vance paid the debt. He bought my father's safety, and in return, he bought me. I was nineteen then. A peasant girl he polished up to look like a mob wife. I was reapplying my lipstick in the vanity mirror of his armored SUV when I found a diamond choker tucked behind the sunshade. It was a million-dollar piece of jewelry that wasn't mine, engraved with a date that wasn't my birthday. That night at the gala, Michael threw his mistress's heavy fur coat at me. "Hold this, Sarah. Jessica gets hot easily." I stood there like a servant, buried under the scent of another woman’s perfume, watching my fiancé hold her on the dance floor with a tenderness he never showed me. When I stumbled from hunger, he called me a liability to his image. But when Jessica faked a crisis, he abandoned me at the venue to rush her home. I walked to the nearest trash can and shoved the expensive fur down past the half-eaten caviar. As the sugar from a cheap candy bar hit my bloodstream, the fog lifted. I realized I wasn't a wife-in-training. I was a debt that had been paid in full. I left the penthouse, the ring, and the life. But Michael wouldn't let his property go. He cornered me in a parking garage, screaming that I belonged to him, threatening to start a war. He didn't expect me to be standing next to David Chen, the Underboss of the rival Triad faction. And he certainly didn't expect me to take off my Louboutin stiletto and use it as a weapon. "I don't love you, Michael," I said, looking him in the eye as he knelt on the concrete. "And I'm not for sale anymore."/0/63443/coverorgin.jpg?v=4c67f31139df04c49582a19d663f44a4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Ana's legacy
Following the death of her father the only surviving child Ana Marson, left college to secure her birthright in Monaco through a marriage contract with Armani Ortega the head of the Ortega family, one of the highest-ranking families and mafia in Monaco. On her arrival, she faces several complications as Armani is already in a relationship with Sofia Arison, the daughter of another high-ranking mafia. Ana has to enact the contract and force him to marry her in exchange for a joint partnership in her family's oil well to entice the agreement and keep her legacy. He eventually leaves Sofia and marries Ana. Ana faces challenges with keeping the inheritance as there was a catch to the contract, due to an outstanding clause that states that if she divorced him, she loses her inheritance. Romance sparks between the both of them and the marriage becomes easier but Fueled with jealousy and hatred, Sofia comes after Ana making sure she destroys every inch of her happiness but then goes too far in the process which breaks a war out between both families. Will they be able to make Sofia pay and at what cost? Find out more in the book!/1/107569/coverorgin.jpg?v=9351edfffb7dcf0d9ecb45ab1c68ebfb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
He Signed Away His Own Wife
#Chapter1 Chapter 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./1/104649/coverorgin.jpg?v=cbe139eef86efbd4cb64fa210ab337eb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Jilted Mafia Heiress Takes It All
I stood at the altar of St. Patrick's Cathedral, the daughter of New York’s most feared Don, ready to lower myself to marry a common soldier. Then, a toddler in the front pew shrieked, "Daddy." Liam didn't squeeze my hand for reassurance. He dropped it like it was a branding iron. In front of five hundred of the criminal elite, he ran down the aisle, scooping up his secret child and the mistress who had been blackmailing him. He left me standing there, humiliated and alone. Three months later, the "Jilted Princess" title still clung to me. Yet, Liam had the audacity to bring her to my father's birthday gala. Sarah, wearing a dress far too tight and a smug smile, cornered me in the middle of the ballroom. She wanted to twist the knife. "He hates you, you know," she screamed, loud enough for the Dons and Capos to hear. "He says sleeping with you was like sleeping with a statue. He chose real love! He chose a family!" The room went deathly silent. Liam looked at me with pity, thinking he had won. He thought I was broken. He thought I was alone. I took a slow sip of my champagne and set the glass down. "I am not alone, Sarah," I said calmly. I turned toward the shadows near the entrance. "Ethan?" I called out. The crowd parted instantly for the scarred, lethal man who stepped forward—The Ghost of Chicago, the most feared Underboss in Europe. He walked over and wrapped a heavy, possessive arm around my waist. "I’d like you to meet my husband," I told a horrified Liam. "And our daughter is waiting upstairs."/0/74151/coverorgin.jpg?v=2789996154f7d2113aaea3968495b36a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Veils of Thorns
Luca DeLuca was never meant to be a king. Born into one of the most powerful mafia families, he was raised in the shadows of blood and violence-protected, sheltered, and kept far from the world his father ruled with an iron fist. But when Don Salvatore DeLuca is assassinated, everything changes. The empire his father built is now crumbling, threatened by enemies within and outside the family. Forced into a throne he never wanted, Luca must learn to navigate a world of betrayal, power, and brutal survival. He isn't a killer. Not yet. But in the mafia, power is earned in blood-and to lead, he must be willing to lose everything, including the last pieces of his soul. But Luca's battle isn't just against the underworld's deadliest players. It's against himself. As he struggles with the darkness seeping into his veins, a forbidden love threatens to shatter everything. Torn between the woman who makes him feel human and the ruthless empire that demands his loyalty, Luca must decide: Is he willing to sacrifice love for power? Or will love be his greatest weakness? In a world where trust is a death sentence and mercy is a myth, Luca DeLuca must either rise as a legend or die as a footnote./1/119250/coverorgin.jpg?v=1acf659610aa48860ae03e0f29029cb4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
I Switched Our Sons First
As my husband—the most feared Mafia Don in the city—lay dying, I stood by his bed playing the perfect, grieving wife. But with his dying breath, he confessed a horrifying secret: twenty-six years ago, he secretly swapped our newborn infants in the hospital. He told me he gave my flesh and blood to his mistress so her child could inherit the empire safely, while leaving his own legitimate son to rot in the slums. Before I could even process the betrayal, his mistress and her thug son burst into the hospital suite. "I grew up in the gutter while your fake son wore custom suits," the street rat spat, kicking the bedframe. "I want the penthouses and the millions in cash by tomorrow." The mistress paraded around the room, gloating about how her bloodline would now rule the underworld. Lorenzo signed the entire Syndicate over to the Underboss—the son he believed was hers—leaving me with nothing but a violent, greedy parasite. They thought they had won. They thought I was just a discarded, empty shell, completely stripped of my power, my legacy, and my child. But as I watched the ink dry on the will, I buried a cold, triumphant smile. They didn't know one crucial detail. Twenty-six years ago, I was awake when he made the swap. And in the dead of night, I had crept down to her room and switched the babies right back./0/65716/coverorgin.jpg?v=590d6ea046fdea405bad55cd9fb14eb1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Don's Obsession
In the cutthroat world of organized crime, where loyalty is a currency more precious than diamonds, Mafia Don Luciano Rossi reigns supreme. His life, a tapestry woven with threads of power, violence, and calculated risk, is about to be irrevocably altered. A woman, initially perceived as nothing more than a debt, a possession to be collected, is poised to ignite a fire within him he never knew existed. Her presence is a disruption, a stunning anomaly in his carefully constructed world. She is not just beautiful; she is a force of nature, a whispered promise of something more profound than he has ever known. As their lives intertwine, Luciano is forced to confront the ghosts of his past, the ruthless choices that paved his path to power. His journey toward self-discovery and the uncharted territory of love is fraught with peril, especially when betrayal lurks in the shadows, cloaked in the guise of loyalty. In this high-stakes game of survival, where alliances crumble and trust is a fragile illusion, Luciano must navigate a treacherous landscape of shifting loyalties and shocking revelations. Just when he believes he has deciphered the true meaning of love and redemption, a twist of fate will challenge his very understanding of everything he holds dear./1/107570/coverorgin.jpg?v=1fc123d2b71cd493f7f0fca909df0006&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Canary Who Learned To Fly
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./1/102379/coverorgin.jpg?v=e3425232fdaed6435dca8e3d57bda187&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Guarding The Bratty Mafia Heiress
AGE GAP • FORBIDDEN ROMANCE • BDSM • MAFIA • ENEMIES TO LOVERS "Acting like a spoiled little girl for attention? Then you will be punished like one." The next slap hurts so badly I can hardly breathe. I whimper as my juice drips down my thighs. Jesus, I'm sick. This man just physically hurt me, and here I am, soaking the sheets. "I'm telling Papà to replace you with an enforcer who actually knows how to do his job," I manage to gasp out. "An enforcer like Damon, who will kiss your ass?" This slap echoes through the room. I swallow back a moan that threatens to escape. "A sexy man who isn't the devil incarnate who gets off on hurting people." He spanks me continuously until my skin goes numb. "Fck, oh God!" I cry out as pain and pleasure collide in an overwhelming rush that leaves me trembling. ~~~ What you just read should never have happened with the off limits Vittoria Giordano. After she was nearly shot, I was hired to protect the engaged heiress till the killer was dealt with. Simple enough, until I met her. A spoiled brat who finds every possible way to push my buttons. She laughs when I scold her, provokes me when I ignore her, and kisses me like she is addicted to the taste of my lips. I shouldn't want her. The last time I let someone in, I was left a shell of a man. Now the threat is gone, and my job is over. I should feel relieved. Instead, every time I see her standing beside her fiancé, pretending to be in love, something inside me ignites and burns. And when the danger resurfaces, I don't return as her bodyguard. I return to claim what is mine./1/116655/coverorgin.jpg?v=55c3e7e3fec2669e61a2e9ab92c47fe9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Bratva Don's Forced Bride & His Secret Baby
Imagine being forced to marry your father's enemy and bam! He turns out to be your lost lover and the father of your secret baby... That was exactly Anya Sokolov; 21 years old daughter of a corrupt Russian politician; educated, sharp-tongued, but emotionally neglected. When her father struck a deadly deal with the Russian Bratva, she became collateral, an unwilling bride for the Vetrov family heir. But Anya had no idea that the groom was 38 years old Nikolia Vetrov, a man she despised and yet longed to see again. Four years earlier, he had saved her life. And while she was under his protection, she fell for him. They shared a night of passion, but after that he disappeared, abandoned her, and that was when her hatred for him began. It would have been easier to forget him if she didn't turn up pregnant weeks later. To protect the future of her unborn child, she kept his existence a secret, even from her own family. But now he was back, with a Bratva ring, a deadly proposal, and eyes that burned like sin. To save her father's empire, she must marry the man who ruined her. The devil with silver hair; He was cold, ruthless and unforgiving. And when he discovers the child she swore to protect from his world... all hell will break loose. What happens when the man she should hate becomes the only one who ever truly saw her? And she in turn became his one true obsession./0/60201/coverorgin.jpg?v=8d8e1639fc16b88e147769c52d89f4c0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Mother For My Son
Trilogy Carluccio: Book 1: A Mother for My Son Book 2: The Father of My Children Book 3: The Son of the Mafia Queen I save the son of an important gangster in Italy from a potential assassination, not knowing that this will turn my life upside down. But how do you escape a man who stole your breath from the moment you first saw him? Especially when he doesn't want to set me free. He wants me to be a mother for his son from now on. What is a woman scorned capable of doing to win a man's love? But what happens when it's not just one woman, but three? A murder and three suspects. Who will be found guilty? A story full of betrayal, lies, secrets, and revenge, but above all, true love. **IMPORTANT NOTICE Dear reader, for your convenience, you can find all three books in one single volume. Thank you for your understanding. **/1/119576/coverorgin.jpg?v=6e71f8bf1840983e178b9f7e5c029e62&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late For Regret: The Don's Queen
My mother was raising her crystal glass to celebrate my long-deferred marriage to Marco when he slammed his hand on the table. He announced to our powerful Mafia families that he had already claimed another woman. That woman was Isabella, a fragile, low-level associate. For years, Marco had used me as a forced chaperone, a convenient shield to hide their illicit affair from the Syndicate elders. He had stolen my meticulous ledger work to cover her mistakes, leaving me to endure brutal reprimands from the Underboss. He had even abandoned me in hostile, rival-controlled territory in the dead of night just to escort her safely home. Now, he was publicly shattering our generation-long alliance. "What man of consequence would seek out a wife with a spirit as unbending and a heart as cold as yours?" he sneered in front of everyone. I stared at the man I had grown up alongside. When we were thirteen, I shattered the bones in my own hand pulling him to safety from rival soldiers. He swore a blood oath under Omertà that day to protect me for life. Yet here he was, treating me like a disposable pawn, discarding our shared history for a pathetic, manipulative girl. But I didn't cry, and I didn't beg him to stay. As he turned his back on me to answer a frantic call from his fragile lover, I simply pulled out my phone. I texted Don Alessandro Moretti, the most feared boss in the city, and allied myself with him instead./1/116656/coverorgin.jpg?v=771931507ff5074e2ac15b783b1a7fe2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Rising From Shadows: True Mafia Bride
I stood at the altar with the most ruthless mafia boss in New York, Salvatore Romano. But when he lifted my wedding veil, his eyes filled with pure murderous intent. He realized I was not the woman he loved. My own father stepped forward and publicly declared me a deranged imposter, claiming my half-sister Camilla was the true bride. I was dragged away, locked in a holding room, and threatened with a bullet to the head. My father slapped me across the face, ordering me to take a hush-money check and sign away my birthright. Meanwhile, Camilla gloated in front of me, wearing my dead mother's antique ruby necklace. She had stolen my identity, my tragic childhood scars, and my position, feeding Salvatore a fabricated fairy tale that he swallowed completely. For twenty years, I survived the bloody streets of Chicago alone while they pampered a fraud. It was pathetic how the supposedly terrifying Don was entirely blind to the fact that his beloved fake bride was secretly embezzling millions to fund his worst enemy. When the truth finally came to light and Salvatore desperately begged me to take the crown as his true wife, I just smiled. "I have no interest in the Romano billions." I didn't come here to marry him. I came to burn their entire empire to the ground./1/104976/coverorgin.jpg?v=bcbed115944274a46219689596354879&imageMogr2/format/webp)
I Built Your Empire, Now It Burns
I realized my husband did not love me the moment he stepped over my broken heart to answer a text from his mistress. Caleb was the "Architect," a feared Capo in New York, but he forgot that I was the one who funded his rise from the gutter with my inheritance. He brought his assistant, Kimberly, into our private penthouse. She wore my silk robe, mocked my past trauma, and snapped my dead mother’s rosary right in front of my eyes. When I lashed out in grief, Caleb didn't defend me. He pinned me against the wall, comforting her while calling me "unstable" and "violent." He gaslighted me, claiming I would be eaten alive without his protection. He thought I was just a fragile princess who would crumble without him. He truly believed he was the king, forgetting that I was the one who built the castle. I didn't cry. I simply wiped the blood from my arm and walked out the door. He didn't know that I owned thirty percent of his laundering front and the land beneath his precious casino. I picked up the phone and dialed the number of his deadliest rival, the Irish mob. "The bank is closed, Caleb. I’m selling my shares to the enemy."/1/107572/coverorgin.jpg?v=6cd64985545da615dcb76efe823d6e55&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Betrayed Mafia Princess's Vengeance
I was three days away from marrying the Underboss of the Fazio crime family when I unlocked his burner phone. The screen glowed toxic bright in the dark next to my sleeping fiancé. A message from a contact saved as 'Little Trouble' read: "She is just a statue, Dante. Come back to bed." Attached was a photo of a woman lying in the sheets of his private office, wearing his shirt. My heart didn't break; it simply stopped. For eight years, I believed Dante was the hero who pulled me from a burning opera house. I played the perfect, loyal Mafia Princess for him. But heroes don't give their mistresses rare pink diamonds while giving their fiancées cubic zirconia replicas. He didn't just cheat. He humiliated me. He defended his mistress over his own soldiers in public. He even abandoned me on the side of the road on my birthday because she faked a pregnancy emergency. He thought I was weak. He thought I would accept the fake ring and the disrespect because I was just a political pawn. He was wrong. I didn't cry. Tears are for women who have options. I had a strategy. I walked into the bathroom and dialed a number I hadn't dared to call in a decade. "Speak," a voice like gravel growled on the other end. Lorenzo Moretti. The Capo of the rival family. The man my father called the Devil. "The wedding is off," I whispered, staring at my reflection. "I want an alliance with you, Enzo. And I want the Fazio family burned to the ground."/0/63447/coverorgin.jpg?v=f25c3db0d5a960cdd8478692879c0727&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Beneath The Mafia's Dark Mind
What's more important to you in life? Is it love, life, or is it power? It is believed that doom brings worlds together in unity, but in reality it is a power struggle between what we want and what we get. Derek D'Amico is a perfect philanthropist, who has everything from power and fame to wealth. He is known by all as one of the youngest and most successful of bachelors but unknown to everyone, behind that handsome dream is a nightmare. Derek is a tyrant and ruthless mafia who doesn't have an ounce of empathy and is believed to be heartless. He has gynophobia but rumors had it that he is gay. Concurrently, his dark world becomes misty as he crashes with Scarlett Fernando. Scarlett is the first and only lady Derek has been in close contact without experiencing an attack or feeling repulsive, which spikes his curiosity. He is set to know who the strange lady is and what makes her so different. Little did he know that his curiosity will cause a crack on his stern wall, hereby unraveling secrets and bringing lots of drama to his hellacious life. Will his decision to bring Scarlett into his world become all rosy and a thrilling experience that he wants? Or will Scarlett's decision to step into his dark world become a box of pain that doom has to offer?/1/116657/coverorgin.jpg?v=71f37b8b837e57afeef8de0b5d472c76&imageMogr2/format/webp)
