Furqan Jahangir
2 Published Stories
Furqan Jahangir's Books and Stories
The Empire of Sin
Mafia Alessia Romano has lived in the long shadow cast by a receding father's failures since the day she was born. But his last, most unspeakable error was neither a bad investment nor a failure to save her mother from an increased dosage of suicide pills: It was a something rather darker-a debt to the devil himself. The settling of scores? Well, he offered the one remaining entity: his daughter.
At a secret auction where the dangerous men of the city bid for power and possessions, she becomes the unwilling property of a man whose name is spoken of only in terror: Dante "The Devil" Moretti. He is the ruthless Don of the Moretti crime family, a billion-dollar enterprise with as many legitimate businesses as illegitimate ones, and a collector of beautiful, broken things. Well, Alessia is his recent tenderest hunt.
Dante doesn't want her heart or soul; he wants her obedience. He does not see her as a woman but as the ultimate revenge against the Romano family for a betrayal with roots that run back decades. Trapped inside a penthouse that overlooks an empire built on sin-his gilded cage-Alessia must find her footing in a world of graceful viciousness and choking control to keep her own spirit from being consumed, even while the fire of a dangerous desire stirs inside her as the possessive darkness of Dante's gaze burns into her.
In the Moretti empire, secrets are a currency, and loyalty nothing more than a myth. In the attempt of a rival family to claim Dante's new possession for their own, Alessia goes from pawn to the heart of a war among mafia families. She quickly begins to realize that being Dante Moretti's enemy is less dangerous than being his obsession. In an empire built on sins, can love ever be anything other than a deadly liability?
The Devil Touched Me Gently
LGBT+ Everything in Eli's life begins to unravel when he discovers a mysterious injured man with black wings hiding in his barn. The first indication that Amon isn't human is the fact that he's a fallen angel, an exile from heaven for a sin so horrific no one would dare name it. He is dangerous, powerful, and stunningly beautiful.
Fear soon melts into fascination.
While Eli tries to heal Amon, oddities start happening. His blood does not flow; light does, and he is dreaming of a world he has never seen. And when Amon looks at him, it is not simply recognition-rather it is almost a memory from another life.
Nothing more frightening than truth could be.
Eli is not just an ordinary man; he is nothing short of the First Sin reincarnate, a being made of taboos of forbidden love and divine rage and locked away because he almost destroyed the heavens. And now that power is waking inside him.
Eli must choose between two lifetimes, two loves, and two sides of him: submitting to the growing darkness within or battling for humanity--for Amon. But the second guest from the past, Kael, enters the stage with a promise and a kiss, telling Eli a love story that could shatter heaven once again.
In "The Devil Touched Me Gently," a dark, steamy fantasy MM romance, a love that defies fate clashes with angels who fall for all the wrong reasons, all powerfully at work with a soul that refuses to be forgotten. You might like
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 Enforcer's Jilted Princess
Bone Possolo Tomorrow was my wedding day to Jason Brennan, the heir to a powerful Mafia family.
My family, the Falcones, had even taken in an orphaned girl, Elena, treating her like my own sister.
But in my nightmare of a past life, I choked on my own blood, poisoned by the arsenic Elena slipped into my food every day.
As I lay agonizingly close to death, Jason stood over me with a cold laugh, holding Elena in his arms.
"We just needed the Falcone wealth, Bella. And the docks."
Then came the gunfire. I was forced to watch them slaughter my father and my brother, tearing my family out by the roots.
After my death, Elena even spread vicious rumors that I was a barren spinster, twisting their foul betrayal into a tragic tale of noble sacrifice to completely destroy my legacy.
The metallic tang of my own blood was so real I could still taste the ash.
I didn't understand why the girl my family sheltered for eight years would repay our charity with such venom.
And I understood even less how the man who swore to love me could orchestrate my brutal murder without a shred of hesitation.
Bolting upright in bed, drenched in cold sweat, I realized I had returned to the night before my wedding.
This time, I wouldn't just cancel the engagement. I would hand their treason directly to the Mafia's most terrifying Enforcer, and watch them burn. Betrayed, I Married the Feared Cripple
Hu Minxue Three days after my fiancé publicly dumped me for my stepsister, the Supreme Don issued a command that silenced the entire estate.
I wasn't being cast aside. I was being sold to Damien Russo.
The "Broken Don." A crippled, scarred monster rumored to have murdered his last two wives.
My adoptive mother, Elena, didn't cry for me. She smirked.
To her, I was finally being disposed of.
She was so confident I was walking to my death that she decided to loot my corpse before I even left.
She forged documents to steal my entire inheritance—my biological mother’s trust fund—to pay for my stepsister’s lavish wedding to my ex.
"She won't need money where she's going," my stepsister laughed, wearing a dress bought with my stolen funds.
They thought they were sending a lamb to the slaughter.
They thought I was too weak, too stupid, and too afraid of the monster to fight back.
But they made a fatal mistake.
With my aunt’s help, I didn't just find the proof of their embezzlement; I found a weapon.
I’m not running from the monster. I’m going to marry him.
And when I hand him the evidence that the Herrera family stole from his bride, he won't be my executioner.
He will be my vengeance. 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. Rebirth of the Mafia Mistress
Olivia My fiancé Jaret Frazier promised to protect me on my nineteenth birthday. By the next year, he had married a Mafia Princess for power and locked me in a hidden apartment as his secret mistress.
When his new wife discovered I was pregnant, she didn't file for divorce. She sent her enforcers to my bedside.
They held me down while a back-alley butcher tore my unborn son from my womb.
Jaret never came to save me. For ten years, I rotted in that gilded cage, watching him use my money to become an Underboss while I faded into a ghost. I died alone, completely erased.
Then, I opened my eyes.
I was back in my own bed, unscarred, the calendar turned back to the year my life was destroyed.
Jaret was still just my fiancé, not yet my jailer.
And this time, I wouldn't be the one who ended up in a cage. Marrying The Rival: My Ex-Husband's Despair
Fonz Nadherny 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. He Saved Her, I Lost Our Child
Juline Walden For three years, I kept a secret ledger of my husband's sins.
A point system to decide exactly when I would leave Blake Santos, the ruthless Underboss of Chicago.
I thought the final straw would be him forgetting our anniversary dinner to comfort his "childhood friend," Ariana.
I was wrong.
The real breaking point came when the restaurant ceiling collapsed.
In that split second, Blake didn't look at me. He dove to his right, shielding Ariana with his body, leaving me to be crushed under a half-ton crystal chandelier.
I woke up in a sterile hospital room with a shattered leg and a hollow womb.
The doctor, trembling and pale, told me my eight-week-old fetus hadn't survived the trauma and blood loss.
"We tried to get the O-negative reserves," he stammered, refusing to meet my eyes. "But Dr. Santos ordered us to hold them. He said Miss Whitfield might go into shock from her injuries."
"What injuries?" I whispered.
"A laceration on her finger," the doctor admitted. "And anxiety."
He let our unborn child die to save the blood reserves for his mistress’s paper cut.
Blake finally walked into my room hours later, smelling of Ariana’s perfume, expecting me to be the dutiful, silent wife who understood his "duty."
Instead, I picked up my pen and wrote the final entry in my black leather book.
*Minus five points. He killed our child.*
*Total Score: Zero.*
I didn't scream. I didn't cry.
I just signed the divorce papers, called my extraction team, and vanished into the rain before he could turn around.