Mafia Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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The Mafia Heiress's Ruthless Revenge
I was happily pregnant through IVF, thinking I had finally built a perfect life with my billionaire husband, Dante. Then, an anonymous photo led me to a hidden drawer in his study, where I found a vasectomy confirmation dated a full year before we even started trying for a baby. My world shattered when I went to his office for answers and overheard him talking to his assistant. "This marriage, this child... it's all a sacrifice. I needed the perfect substitute to build up and destroy, just to prove my loyalty to Elara." The painful IVF injections, my precious pregnancy, our entire marriage—it was all a meticulously crafted performance for his childhood sweetheart. He even planned to publicly humiliate me at an upcoming gala as a welcome gift for her return. I wept for the years I had wasted and for my innocent unborn child, conceived merely as a pawn in their sick, twisted game. They thought they could discard me like trash because they believed I was just a helpless orphan with no one to turn to. But they didn't know I had spent the last three years hiding my true identity for the sake of this marriage. Wiping away my tears, I picked up my phone and called my father, the most feared underground king in the world./1/115183/coverorgin.jpg?v=bb62b2f72a2da5568084a6a675974480&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Cashmere Cruelty - A Mafia Romance
When is the worst time to tell someone he's going to be a father? Probably the day of the wedding... When he is getting married to someone else. Well, that is exactly what I did. But my hands were tied. Literally. Matvey Groza is a dangerous man. And nine months ago, he strolled into my shop looking for a custom suit. But when I accidentally walked in on him in the changing room, *I* was the one that ended up needing a new set of clothes. It was a one-time mistake. After that... good riddance. But the pregnancy test I took a month later had other plans. I kept it a secret from everyone. Or so I thought. But when Matvey's enemies learned that I was pregnant with his child, they kidnapped me and held me hostage. Until I broke free and ran as fast as I could. And I had no one else to turn to but the devil himself. What better time for me to enter the church... ... than as the pastor says, "Speak now or forever hold your peace"?/1/116898/coverorgin.jpg?v=641108e3886d81081d8833f503225136&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Broken Oath: The Surgeon's Spectacular Comeback
I am the best trauma surgeon in the New York mafia. For five years, I used my underground surgical earnings to fund my fiancé Dante's rise to Capo. But after a grueling six-hour surgery saving his soldier, I walked out into the pouring rain to find his new ward, Sofia, sitting in my front passenger seat. In our world, the front seat of a Capo's car is a throne that belongs exclusively to his future wife. Yet Sofia was sitting there, wearing his tailored coat and drinking from the custom silver flask I bought him. When I confronted them, Dante didn't apologize. Instead, he publicly humiliated me. "Just get in the back, Serena. She is a traumatized kid having a panic attack." He demanded I bend the knee to an associate, completely disregarding my authority and our sacred blood oath. Sofia looked at me with wide, artfully innocent eyes, but hid a victorious smile behind my flask. I had laundered half a million dollars to build his marital fortress. I had bought his loyalty with my own blood and scalpel. Why was he treating my five years of absolute devotion like garbage over a manipulative girl's fake tears? I didn't argue, and I didn't beg for his love. I simply took off the massive diamond betrothal ring, dropped it into a biohazard bin full of clotted blood, and walked away. If he wanted to give away my seat, I would take back my money, destroy his standing, and let the ultimate Boss of Bosses court me instead./1/116517/coverorgin.jpg?v=734fc8714389234e3530e8eb7f7c0456&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Ex's Regret: Married To His Enemy
For eight years, I was the Falcone mafia's top fixer and the Don's secret fiancée, taking bullets to keep his syndicate alive. But when my mother was crashing from heart failure, he refused to authorize her lifesaving surgery. I dropped to my knees in the middle of the crowded ballroom, begging him to make the call. Instead, Kieran didn't even flinch. He sat there meticulously folding a paper bird for his new favorite, Elena. "You are causing a scene, Sienna," he scolded me coldly. "And you completely forgot to pick up Elena's custom gown today. I am not rewarding your tantrums." He then publicly stripped me of my executive rank, gave my hard-earned Underboss title to Elena, and made a show of praising her—while the vintage diamond ring he had chosen in her favorite style still sat on my finger. I had died on the operating table three times to build his empire, yet he was willing to let my mother die over a delayed dress. The desperation in my gut congealed into a block of ice, and my lingering love completely burned away. I took off the ring and walked straight out of the Falcone estate into the freezing night. Outside, the Matriarch of his deadliest rival was waiting in an armored SUV. "My clinic can save her," she said smoothly. "But you know the price." I didn't even hesitate. "I will marry your son."/1/110488/coverorgin.jpg?v=c25300fa61415699c302b1bcb977c6b9&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./1/104479/coverorgin.jpg?v=96b08700bb860257b3b14ca84fd299f4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Capo's Scarred Wife: A Vicious Comeback
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."/1/108639/coverorgin.jpg?v=2e1483e0bbb7378b1aa4fea69ced69af&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Best Friend's Dad Married Me
When the boy I had loved in silence for five years dropped to one knee and proposed to the very girl who had bullied me, the entire room burst into laughter at my expense. "That fat, ugly Lydia Prescott actually thinks she has a shot with a mafia boss?" In a single night, I became the city's favorite punchline. I fled in humiliation. The next time I appeared, I had transformed. The weight was gone, and so was the ridicule. I stunned everyone into silence. Miles Calloway begged through tears for another chance, but I simply slipped my arm through the arm of the mafia godfather beside me and smiled. "Sorry. I'm married." The man rumored to be cold-blooded and untouchable pulled me closer and declared with chilling certainty, "Lydia is my wife." The room erupted. Only my best friend, Annie Sinclair, gasped, "Lydia, you seriously locked down my dad?"/1/115153/coverorgin.jpg?v=82b712e23eb27bbb64dd94c4a496aaa1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Substitute Marriage: The Billionaire's Hidden Queen
Cassie was sold to a terrifying billionaire as a substitute bride. To protect herself, she glued a grotesque, fake burn scar to her face. Her adoptive family and her ex-fiancé had stolen her massive trust fund, locked her in an asylum for years, and finally threw her to the wolves. They expected the ruthless Dane Frederick to torture and kill her the moment he saw her ruined face. At her ex's grand engagement party, her family publicly humiliated her. They mocked her cheap clothes, laughed at her scarred cheek, and even raised their hands to beat her, fully believing she was a helpless freak with no one to rely on. "Get on your knees and apologize, and I'll write you a check so you don't starve on the streets." But they didn't expect the billionaire to kick down the doors, wrap his coat around her, and bankrupt their entire bloodline overnight. Yet, as Cassie stood in the dark and peeled off her fake silicone scar to reveal her flawless face, a deeper terror gripped her. Tracing her stolen funds, she uncovered a name that made her blood run cold: The Syndicate. It was the exact nightmare organization that had locked her in the asylum. Why were they controlling her family? And why did the billionaire look at her with such desperate, hidden nostalgia? Cassie opened her encrypted laptop and dropped into the Dark Web. She wasn't just a discarded bride. She was the legendary hacker "Nyx," and she was going to burn them all to the ground./1/111424/coverorgin.jpg?v=9a317a61450367d0e63f9bace1801f50&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Left To Freeze: The Neglected Wife's Awakening
I am the wife of Julian Falcone, a powerful mafia boss, but my title in this house is nothing but a joke. When our car broke down in a deadly blizzard, Julian rushed to the scene, only to bypass me entirely. He wrapped his heavy coat around his fragile cousin, Livia, and put her in his only available passenger seat. "Livia's constitution is too weak to survive this cold. I have to take her back first." He left me to freeze in the pitch-black car for the entire night. When his men finally dragged my half-dead body out the next morning, they openly mocked me, calling me a piece of "collateral" that the boss wouldn't care about as long as I was breathing. Back at the estate, Julian didn't even ask if I had survived the frostbite. Instead, he stormed into my sickroom, demanding I treat his mistress with respect just because my absolute silence had hurt her feelings. His grandmother then publicly humiliated me for failing to provide an heir, while Livia flaunted the custom diamond bracelet Julian bought to soothe her "fright" from the storm. I finally understood. He didn't marry me out of honor to save my fallen family. He just needed my aristocratic Rossi blood to legitimize his new-money mafia empire. I was never a wife. I was a transaction he was willing to let freeze to death. When his men delivered a heavy diamond necklace to buy my submission, I didn't cry or beg. I dropped the blood diamond into the deepest drawer, and began to plan my escape./1/110205/coverorgin.jpg?v=d08d7e62fa68d4ca4d8cf5de6ac51da0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Underboss's Obsession: Stealing The Bride
Three days before the wedding. I was hiding in the dressing room, watching my fiancé caress the swollen belly of another woman. Luca, the man who had saved my life five years ago, was smiling at his mistress, Sofia. But the real knife to the heart wasn't the affair—it was the dress. The custom wedding gown he had "lovingly" ordered for me featured intricate silver embroidery along the hem. It didn't spell Elena. It read Sofia. He was planning to make me walk down the aisle wearing his mistress's name. Later that night, I found a video of him mocking me to his crew, calling me a "dead fish" and admitting he only wanted my family's Capo status. He planned to keep his "true love" on the side while I played the role of the oblivious, ornamental wife. He thought I was just a sheltered princess. He forgot that my bloodline was built on vengeance. I didn't cry. I didn't confront him. Instead, I scrubbed his scent off my skin and dialed a number everyone in Chicago feared. "The pact with the Cavallaro family," I asked my father, my voice cold as stone. "Is it still valid?" "Dante is the Underboss now," my father warned. "He is a butcher. He breaks men for sport." "Good," I replied. "I am done playing with boys." I secretly booked the Gold Ballroom across the hall from my original venue. Luca thought he was walking into a marriage on Saturday. He didn't know I was bringing a monster to the altar instead./1/115050/coverorgin.jpg?v=69ab0391b447bad0affe306de1bd4ee6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
You Chose Her, Now Watch Me Leave
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./1/116756/coverorgin.jpg?v=7dbbf7bd58c6a2968fcf670657e760ef&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Pampered By The Ruthless Mafia Boss
I was a top medical prodigy with a bright future and a loving fiancé, until my mother's heart failed and she desperately needed life-saving treatments. But my own father refused to pay the $12,000 medical bill. Instead, my fiancé kicked me out of our shared home to marry my stepsister Sabrina, and my father used his money to buy her a brand-new Porsche. I later discovered the horrifying truth. My father had deliberately framed my medical mentor, completely destroying my career, just to get a half-million-dollar payout from the Russian mob to clear his gambling debts. He traded my future and my mother's life for a luxury car and a lavish wedding for his stepdaughter. Left with absolutely nothing, I was forced to sell my silence and become a governess for New York's most ruthless mafia Don just to keep my mother alive. Sabrina even sent me a cheap, scratchy bridesmaid dress, demanding I stand behind her at the altar to watch her marry my ex. "You need to stand behind me in a cheap dress and watch me win. Because if you don't, Father will cut off your mother's life support." They thought they had crushed me into the dirt, expecting me to be their submissive victim forever. But they didn't know the terrifying mafia king had already handed me the irrefutable evidence of their crimes. On the day of the wedding, I threw that cheap dress in the trash, put on a custom black haute couture gown, and walked into the grand ballroom on the arm of the Don. ---/1/107473/coverorgin.jpg?v=6a5ec5fd7685826ebe1f4fa7638f33ac&imageMogr2/format/webp)
From Trash To Treasure: Masked Heiress
I was the invisible failure of the Goff family, hiding my medical genius behind a report card full of Fs and a slumped posture. One rainy night, I found a man bleeding out in a dark alley behind the school gymnasium, a knife protruding from his gut. To keep the police from digging into my secrets, I dragged the dying stranger to my bedroom and stitched him up using a hidden surgical kit. I thought I was being careful, but my cousin Cleora caught a glimpse of the blood and immediately alerted my fiancé's wealthy family. By morning, my world collapsed as my future in-laws stormed the manor, throwing an annulment agreement at my feet. They called me a "loose woman" and "million-dollar trash," while my own housekeeper gleefully testified against me. At school, the word "SLUT" was spray-painted across my locker in jagged red letters, and the boy I was supposed to marry looked at me with nothing but cold revulsion. I didn't understand why they were so eager to destroy me before even asking for the truth. I was the one who had spent years protecting this family's reputation, yet they were throwing me to the wolves over a single misunderstanding. I felt a surge of cold fury as I realized my loyalty had been met with nothing but betrayal. Everything changed when the "dying" stranger finally walked down the stairs, shirtless and bandaged, revealing himself as Braylon Lancaster, the most powerful man in the city. He didn't just defend me; he froze my fiancé's entire family fortune with a single phone call. As my in-laws fled in terror, a courier arrived with a five-carat pink diamond from the head of the city's most dangerous crime syndicate. The note read: "The debt is acknowledged." Suddenly, I wasn't just a failure anymore-I was the most sought-after woman in the underworld./0/96398/coverorgin.jpg?v=3809bf8f2c1a77eb23bb91ea2c0950e4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Mafia Wife's Revenge: Unleashing My Fury
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./1/116657/coverorgin.jpg?v=71f37b8b837e57afeef8de0b5d472c76&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Betraying The Queen: A Mafia Boss's Downfall
For seven years, I laundered blood money and managed a fortified estate for my Mafia Boss husband, Silas. I thought we were building a bulletproof life for our son, until a stranger at a luxury mall handed me a lavish baptism invitation. It was for my husband's newborn daughter, with a civilian woman named Valentina. He hadn't been on dangerous Syndicate business trips; he had been living a painstakingly constructed double life for six years. He funneled millions in Mafia tribute to fund her storybook lifestyle, showering her with authentic diamonds while forcing me to wear cheap counterfeits to "avoid IRS audits." The final blow came when I saw the baby's wrist. My in-laws had stolen the sacred gold protection medallion I had custom-made for my miscarried twin daughters, gifting it to this illegitimate child. I had sacrificed my soul, my safety, and my unborn babies to protect his underground empire, only to realize my entire marriage was a fraud. But I am a Mafia Queen, and I do not weep in the shadows. I took the invitation, put on my best heels, and walked straight onto the brightly lit stage of their extravagant hundred-day banquet. Grabbing the microphone in front of fifty ruthless Syndicate bosses and his clueless civilian in-laws, I looked down at my terrified husband. "Husband. Tell them. How many years have we been married?"/1/100250/coverorgin.jpg?v=1e1cc879a2a9ec09824fc48dab606c09&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late To Apologize, Mr. Billionaire
For seven years, I scrubbed floors, cooked books, and hid my identity as the Vitiello heiress just to test if Dante Moretti loved me for me, not my father’s power. But the massive digital billboard in Times Square froze the blood in my veins. It wasn’t my face next to his under the headline "The King and his new Queen." It was a cocktail waitress named Lola. When I walked into the lobby to confront him, Lola slapped me across the face and crushed my late mother's locket under her stiletto heel. Dante didn't defend me. He didn't even look sorry. "You’re useful, like a stapler," he sneered, checking his watch. "But a King needs a Queen, not a boring clerk. You can stay on as my mistress if you want to keep your job." He thought I was a nobody. He thought he could use me to launder his money and then discard me like trash. He didn't realize that the only reason he wasn't in federal prison was because I was protecting him. I wiped the blood from my lip and pulled out a secure satellite phone. Dante laughed. "Who are you calling? Your mommy?" I stared him dead in the eyes as the line connected. "The pact is void, Papa," I whispered. "Burn them all." Ten minutes later, the glass doors shattered as my father’s military helicopters descended onto the street. Dante fell to his knees, realizing too late that he hadn't just lost a secretary. He had just declared war on the Capo dei Capi./1/104523/coverorgin.jpg?v=7719b1d28102636322258cb433c8fe50&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Jilted Bride Marries The Ruthless Capo
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."/1/110133/coverorgin.jpg?v=a6428170bc09c00f6487b1a72008e49a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late, Mr. Capo: Your Wife Is Gone
"Happy Anniversary," my husband said, sliding the separation agreement across the mahogany desk. It was the eighteenth time in five years I had signed these papers. Matteo De Luca, the most ruthless Capo in New York, checked his Rolex with cold impatience. "Sign it, Sera. Bianca is on the ledge again. She needs to see we're over, or she jumps." Bianca. The ward. The broken bird. The woman whose fragile psyche dictated every moment of my marriage. I signed my name, and he left me alone on our anniversary to save her. Again. But saving her wasn't enough. When Bianca pushed me down a flight of marble stairs in a fit of jealous rage, shattering my spine and leaving me paralyzed, I thought Matteo would finally choose me. I was wrong. I woke up in the hospital to find him holding her hand, not mine. "The security footage has been wiped," he told me, his voice void of emotion. "We cannot have a scandal. You fell, Sera. That is the story." He erased the truth. He erased my pain. He protected the woman who crippled me over his own wife. Two months later, he wheeled me into a gala, playing the doting husband while I sat in the chair that was my prison. He didn't know I had a burner phone hidden in my velvet dress. He didn't know that tonight, the obedient wife was going to die on the pavement, and a ghost would rise in her place. I looked at him one last time and dropped the phone in his lap. "I hope she's worth it."/1/116744/coverorgin.jpg?v=27288c50dab83aa971acf2224e513300&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late For Regret: The Mafia King
I was burning with a 104-degree fever when my mafia boss husband's mistress sent an emergency code, claiming he was bleeding out. Too weak to stand, my mother-in-law took the medical supplies into the hurricane for me, only to be killed in a rival hit-and-run. I dragged my sick body across enemy lines to finish the delivery, only to find my husband laughing with his mistress in his office. "It was just a loyalty test to see how fast you'd react," she sneered. When I told him his mother died for their sick game, he refused to believe me. He called me a manipulative liar and threw me out into the freezing rain. Days later, he tracked me down to the family mausoleum. Believing his mistress's lies that we were just faking the death to steal his money, he snatched his mother's urn from my hands and maliciously smashed it to dust. He even shoved me so hard against the stone altar that I miscarried our unborn child. I watched the gray ashes scatter over his expensive shoes, my heart turning to ice. How could the man I loved be so blind, choosing a cheap mistress over his own mother's life and his wife's devotion? When the police finally arrived to confirm his mother's tragic death and the mistress's betrayal was exposed, he fell to his knees in the dirt, weeping and begging for my forgiveness. But I just smiled, demanded my divorce, and walked away./1/110194/coverorgin.jpg?v=654c6d4bfe18ba434ea22baa3d31fe75&imageMogr2/format/webp)
