icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Sign out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon
closeIcon

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open

Mafia Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
Too Late For Regret, Underboss

Too Late For Regret, Underboss

For two years, my world was circumscribed by the biometric lock on our penthouse and silent prayers for my husband, Vincenzo, the most feared Underboss of the Cosa Nostra. But when he finally returned from a brutal three-week smuggling route, he tossed me a cheap five-dollar tourist scarf, while his ex-lover Camilla flaunted the flawless pearl necklace he had just bought her. He abandoned me with a bleeding hand to rush to her side, ignored my severe medical emergencies to comfort her over trivialities, and publicly humiliated me at a Syndicate banquet by seating her in my rightful place at the head of the table. Camilla cornered me in the powder room, her fragile victim facade dropping instantly as she smirked at my reflection. "The thing a powerful man fears most isn't a wife who screams. It's a useless one who refuses to bow out gracefully." I endured his blatant disrespect and broken Omertà, wondering why my unwavering loyalty meant nothing compared to the manipulative tears of a woman who was actively leaking his classified safehouse coordinates. I didn't understand why he treated his sacred vows like garbage, eagerly feeding her Syndicate intel just to play the big, strong hero while leaving me to face cartel death threats entirely alone. But I was done being the neglected mafia wife waiting in the shadows. I calmly activated the covert audio recording device hidden inside my designer clutch. It was time to present this irrefutable evidence to the Don's Tribunal, strip my husband of his title, and build my own empire.
Betrayed By The Don: Her Ultimate Escape

Betrayed By The Don: Her Ultimate Escape

On our anniversary, I was basting the roast when my husband’s encrypted laptop lit up on the kitchen counter. Alex Bradley, the ruthless Underboss of New York, never made mistakes. But tonight, he left a chat room open. The notification shattered my world: "Is the idiot eating the dog food yet?" It was from his mistress, Charlotte. They were betting on whether I would eat the red velvet cake she had spiked with her Rottweiler’s excrement. I realized then that my marriage was a long-con. I was just a "placeholder" wife to secure his promotion to Don. To survive, I had to play the part. Alex sat on the bed, feeding me the tainted cake with a loving smile. "Eat up, Jillian," he purred. "It’s to die for." I swallowed every bite of the filth, forcing myself not to vomit until he left the room. The humiliation didn't stop there. I found out our marriage license was void. He publicly bought me a twenty-million-dollar necklace at a gala, then abandoned me to face the debt, forcing me to hand over my grandmother’s earrings as collateral. He even watched calmly as his family beat me for a prank Charlotte orchestrated. But the final blow came when I overheard him planning our "romantic" getaway. "The blizzard hits Friday," he told Charlotte. "It’ll look like a tragic accident. Hypothermia." He thought he was taking a lamb to the slaughter. He didn’t know I had been counting down the days. When we arrived at the cabin and he went to prepare my "accident," I didn't cry. I tossed one of my boots over the cliff edge to stage my death. Then I climbed into the black extraction van waiting in the snow. Alex Bradley thought he had killed his wife. He had no idea he had just set her free.
Too Late To Beg: My Cold Ex-Husband

Too Late To Beg: My Cold Ex-Husband

On our ninth anniversary, my husband Dominick didn't toast to us. Instead, he rested his hand on his mistress's pregnant belly in front of the entire crime family. I was just a debt payment to him, a ghost in a forty-thousand-dollar gown. But the humiliation didn't end in the ballroom. When his mistress, Chastity, started hemorrhaging later that night, he didn't call an ambulance. He dragged me to the family clinic. He knew I had a serious heart condition. He knew a transfusion of that magnitude could trigger a fatal cardiac event. "She is carrying my son," he said, his eyes devoid of any humanity. "You will give her whatever she needs." I begged him. I bargained for my freedom. He lied and agreed, just to get the needle in my arm. As my dark red blood flowed through the tube to save the woman destroying my life, my chest tightened. The monitors began to scream. My heart was failing. "Mr. Reyes! She's crashing!" the doctor shouted. Dominick didn't even turn around. He walked out of the room to hold Chastity's hand, leaving me to die on the table. I survived, but Annis Myers died in that clinic. He thought I would return to the penthouse and continue being his obedient, silent wife. He thought he owned the blood in my veins. He was wrong. I went back to the penthouse one last time. I struck a match. I let the room burn. By the time Dominick realized I wasn't in the ashes, I was already on a plane to London. I had left my wedding ring in an envelope, along with the medical records that proved his cruelty. He wanted a war? I would give him one.
TIED TO AN OUTLAW

TIED TO AN OUTLAW

Alessandra Benedetti, a young woman renowned for her beauty and preserved innocence, is the daughter of the esteemed consigliere of the Vincenzo Crime Family. Familiarly called Sessie by those who admire her kindness and obedience, she is slated to marry the second son of the Don. She vehemently opposes the union because Tiziano embodies everything she despises in a man, leading her to have a fling. Her brief romance with a classmate is discovered by her father, who takes extreme measures to ensure her purity for her intended husband. Stricken with guilt over her lover's death, Alessandra tries to escape, but her first taste of independence on the streets of Chicago proves deadly, especially given her last name. Alessandra defies her family's teachings by intervening in an assassination plot, saving a man she knows she should have stayed away from-especially since he's a Santoro, a family her own should avoid at all costs. As things spiral out of control, he discovers that the woman he's completely drawn to is the enemy. He should stay away, but he's not willing to let his first shot at something real slip through his fingers. Renzo Santoro finds himself willing to allow his desire for her to grow, even though she's everything he should despise. Alessandra knows better than to defy her family in that regard again, but she's beginning to learn that defiance is the only way to feed her hunger for callous hands, noxious tattoos, leather jackets, and utterly dark eyes. Their worlds are so far apart and should remain that way-if only Renzo would stop appearing at every turn. And Renzo, now obsessed with the startling effect he has on her, is beginning to discover another obsession: everything and anything "Sessie" represents.
From Mafia Doll To Montana Queen

From Mafia Doll To Montana Queen

I was the invisible daughter of the Hayes crime family, secretly painting portraits of Marcus, the Underboss. He was the man who had once protected me from the world, the man I loved from the shadows. But he chose power over affection. To secure an alliance, he engaged Isabella. Threatened by my existence, Isabella staged a fake miscarriage and framed me for destroying her heirloom wedding dress. Marcus didn't ask for my side of the story. Blinded by rage over his "lost heir," he ordered his guards to drag me to the Ice Cellar—a freezing underground torture chamber used for traitors. For days, I shivered in the absolute darkness, listening to the water drip, realizing the man I worshiped was actually my jailer. My father, protecting his own millions, let it happen. In that cold, the girl who loved Marcus died. When he finally released me, he expected me to be broken, obedient, and grateful for his mercy. Instead, I burned every painting I had ever made of him. I packed a single bag and vanished into the night, escaping to a rugged ranch in Montana where no one knew my name. Three years later, the truth about Isabella’s lies finally surfaced. Marcus tracked me down. The King of New York fell to his knees in the dirt and cow manure of my new home, weeping, begging, and offering me the entire world to come back. I looked down at the man who once owned my heart. "You can't un-shatter a glass, Marcus," I said coldly. "I'm not coming home."
The Neglected Wife's Ultimate Mafia Vendetta

The Neglected Wife's Ultimate Mafia Vendetta

I was sold to the terrifying Mafia Don, Vincenzo Moretti, as a "Collateral Bride" to pay off my family's debts. I thought my total submission would at least guarantee the medical payments for my bedridden mother. But one night, I unlocked his encrypted tablet and discovered his secret life. While he claimed to be settling bloody mafia scores in Sicily, he was actually at Disneyland with his mistress, Giuliana, and their little blonde daughter. When I demanded a divorce, he didn't apologize. "Sign the behavioral agreement, or I will personally pull the plug on your mother's ventilator." The next day, he moved his secret family into our master suite. My belongings were violently thrown into the dirt, and I was banished to the sweltering servant's quarters. He ordered the staff to feed me nothing but watery broth and stale bread to cure my "female hysteria." I soon found out that even my own stepbrother had been conspiring with Giuliana for years, eagerly helping to build the cage I was locked in. I was stripped of my dignity, starved, and reduced to a pathetic joke in my own home. Why did I have to be tortured and erased while he played the perfect, loving family man on television? The grief and humiliation finally evaporated, freezing into a cold, sharp clarity. I stopped crying and forged an irrevocable transfer of Giuliana's luxury penthouse, slipping it right into Vincenzo's daily stack of paperwork. Watching the infallible Dark Don blindly sign away his mistress's greatest asset, I knew exactly what I had to do. It was time to burn his entire empire to the ground.
Marrying The Wounded King: My Ex's Regret

Marrying The Wounded King: My Ex's Regret

I stood in the center of the rose garden, convinced the Underboss of the East Coast was finally going to defy his father and put a ring on my finger. Instead, Desmond walked toward me holding another woman's hand. "Dallas," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "This is Chelsea. My fiancée." He told me it was just business, a merger to secure shipping routes. He expected me to stay in the shadows as his mistress, his "pet canary." When I refused to be his dirty little secret, his family sold me like cattle to Kennedy Simmons, the crippled Don of the West Coast, just to get rid of me. But the ultimate betrayal happened the night before I left. On the family yacht, Chelsea pushed me overboard. I screamed for help in the freezing dark water. I watched Desmond dive in. I reached out for him, but he swam right past me. He chose to save his wealthy fiancée, the "asset," and left me to drown. In that moment, the girl who loved him died. I realized his brother Antone, who I thought was my friend, was just a stalker using me to get close to Chelsea. I was nothing but collateral damage to the people I had worshipped. I didn't die that night. I boarded the plane to Seattle with a frozen heart. They thought they were selling me to a monster. They didn't realize they were handing me a King. The next time the Morgans saw me, I wasn't their victim. I was the woman coming to burn their empire to the ground.
Rising From Ashes: The Vengeful Mafia Bride

Rising From Ashes: The Vengeful Mafia Bride

I worshipped the mafia Don for ten years, believing my devotion could tame his cold heart. But as my organs failed in a freezing underground clinic, a text message illuminated my phone. "Camilla needs a blood transfusion for the baby. You are the only match. Bleed for her, or I will slaughter your father." I stared at the screen from the man I loved, my heart shattering. To protect his civilian mistress, Gabriel had caged me and authorized a medical procedure that permanently stripped me of my ability to bear children. Camilla had faked miscarriages to frame me, playing the innocent victim while secretly poisoning my name. Now, she was actually pregnant, and Gabriel was willing to drain my dying body to save her. Because of my blind love, my Capo father went to war for me, which cost him his territory, his men, and ultimately his life. I died in that clinic, completely drained and discarded like trash. Until my last breath, I didn't understand. Why did my decade of absolute loyalty mean nothing? Why did I let my family's legacy burn for a man who only saw me as a blood bag? When I gasped and opened my eyes, the fatal cold was gone. I was standing in the center of the Syndicate's grand hall, holding the ceremonial silver dagger that would bind me to him all over again. I was twenty again. This time, I looked at the dagger, smiled, and prepared to hand him a bride who would tear his empire apart from the inside out.
The Unwanted Heiress

The Unwanted Heiress

"No." The words leave my lips before I can control them, and as a result, fear floods my entire body as I stare face-to-face with the man that my parents have sold me off to. "No?" His deep voice hums in his chest, sending a series of chills running across my skin. My bottom lip quivers in fear, but I quickly bite it in an attempt to maintain some sort of control over my body. I can't let him see how terrified I am of him, how my body trembles in terror as he remains across from me. Dante moves dangerously close to me, his frame towering over me and making me feel almost insignificant in my own skin. His cold, icy gaze meets mine, those soulless blue orbs searing into my green ones. I am paralysed, with no control over my own limbs. I should move, turn around and run while I still have a chance. But where would I even go? I'm in his house now, and there's nowhere I would feel safe anymore... Before I realise what's happening, his grip is around my throat, his fingers pressing against my skin. My back slams against the wall, and a frightened gasp leaves my lips, just as I look up at the person who has easily overpowered me. He remains silent as he looks down at me, his face inches apart from mine as panicked breaths leave my lips. Suddenly, the fear turns into something else as I realise how his body is pressed against me, how the only space between is the one between our faces... "Let's get something straight, dollface." He says lowly, his voice sending my heart racing as he keeps himself only inches from my face, my lips. "You're mine now, and there's nothing you can do about it." . . . . . Viviana Costanzo. Heiress of the Constanzo family and daughter of Don Ettore Constanzo. Born into power. Raised in silence to be lethal, perfect... only to be sold like a pawn. Viviana has spent her life as the unwanted daughter. Ignored by her father, despised by her stepmother, and overshadowed by her younger half-brother. When the time comes for her to receive her birthright, her father announces he has other plans... Instead, the title of future Don of the Costanzo family is handed to her younger brother. But it doesn't end there. She is stripped of her name, her wealth, and her future by her so-called parents and sold into marriage to a rival family. But not just to any family... not just to any man... It is none other than Dante Accardi, Don of the ruthless Accardi crime syndicate. He is ice cold and filled with venom. Those who work under him fear him, just like all who cross his path. He is a man used to getting what he wants, and unfortunately, Viviana is one of them.
Into The Rival's Arms: The Decoy's Escape

Into The Rival's Arms: The Decoy's Escape

I stood behind the velvet curtain, clutching a positive pregnancy test, waiting for the perfect moment to tell Dante our family was growing. Instead, I heard him laugh. "She is not the bride," Dante told his Consigliere, swirling his fifty-year-old scotch. "She is the bulletproof vest I wear until it is safe for Sofia to enter the city. When the bullets stop flying, we throw the vest in the trash." My world shattered. When Sofia arrived that night, she didn't just take my place; she boiled my beloved cat for dinner. Dante didn't defend me. He told me to clean up the mess or face punishment. To prove his devotion to her, he had his men drag me to "The Pit"—an underground fight club. I was thrown into a cage with a starving Doberman. I looked up at the VIP box, begging the man I loved to save me. Instead, Dante pressed the intercom button, his voice booming over the speakers. "One million dollars on the dog," he said. "She won't last three minutes." He covered Sofia's eyes to protect her innocence while the beast tore the flesh from my arm. That night, Elena Vance died in the dirt. One year later, the grieving Dante Moretti attended a gala for a mysterious new artist in New York. He dropped his champagne glass when he saw me on stage, alive, wearing a dress that revealed my ruined, scarred arm. "I didn't leave you, Dante," I said into the microphone, my voice cold as ice. "You killed me. And now, I'm here to collect my winnings."