Debt To The Mafia: Book 2 The Mafia's sweet Pea

The Mafia’s Possession.

This is a three-novel set of the Moretti Famiglia. 1. Fire Me! 2. Blackwood Inc 3.The Black Sheep

Jaded Love

This is series 2 of 3 series if includes: Jaded Love,The Nerds Obssession, Her Dom, His Dominatrix, XL (Xtra Large) and Reece Jaded Love Jacob has finally arrived home after five years of pure hell from his husband Cerian Mitchell. He's torn both physically end emotionally. He never would've got involved with the most feared Irish mafia Don if it wasn't in the name of work. Now he's left his old life behind his work with the FBI, Married life with the devil and starting a new with his best friend Scarlet. Now working for Dominic and Benji he feels ten times later, yet he still has so far to go after his time with Cerian Mitchell not only does he have to build his body back up but his mind and spirit too. The nightmares are driving him insane can he ever be who he once was the Jacob everyone knew growing up? Rory Townsend. A multi-billionaire who owns his own franchise. Who indulges in kink extremely into BDSM. Wants to show Jacob that not all BDSM is pain and torture, but pleasure too. He's been head over heels for Jacob since their encounter six years ago and has been searching for him ever since. Now he's in Australia and so is Jacob he wants Jacob, but Jacob is hesitant to get into another relationship with another guy after Cerian and the constant nightmares he's been getting ever since he's been in Australia. Rory is the most patient guy he can be around hopefully he can break down Jacobs walls so he will trust him and fall in love with him, as he loves him?

Debt To The Mafia #1 Ties To The Mafia

This is a mafia dark romance book. There are four novels altogether. Debt To The Mafia Married To The Mafia On The Run From The Mafia

Sandman

Justin and Mackenzie stood outside the house, they looked at each other, as Mackenzie poured the petrol both around the house and inside. Sandman lit the match and dropped it to the ground . The flames blazing high a red and Orange colour, the fire made its way around the house with their parents inside, it flamed the inside of the house engulfing the entire house as the screams could be heard from the outside as they stood watching the house burn in a loud bang. kaboom! The house went up in flames. Their eyes illuminating in the burning air, flames reflecting in the coldness their evil eyes. ‘Come on let’s get out of here.’ they both turned walking away as the fire continued to illuminate the night sky. The sound of the fire engines passed them. ‘This is a new beginning bro.’ They turned the corner into the darkness.

THE BOOK OF EVIL : PT 2 : THE RETURN TO GHOSTLY HILL

Five years to the day when Mark was taken by the police, Joe returns To free him from. The prison he’s been living in with one mission alone to get her souls for the devil twisting a few arms along the way to get another set of students to join an archeological dig on Ghostly Hill, but who will live to tell the tale?

THE BOOK OF THE DEAD: PT 1: THE BOOK OF EVIL

Lowerstoft High year eleven history group that get invited on an archaeological dig with ten archaeologists from L.A. to discover a five mile radios site of Ghostly Hill. Joe and his friends are filled with excitement about the trio to Ghostly Hill. Joe is a very enthusiastic sixteen year old dark haired dark eyed boy who enjoys anything to do with old skeletons and finding out where they originated and how far back they date, his best friend Mark who also is interested in digging up everything to find hidden mysteries, the friends decide to pair on this epic journey. The first few days of the archaeological dig are slow, until they come upon an abandoned police station where they later return after dark to do a little excavation of their own finding a tattered sheepskin book with a eye on the front and vampire teeth for a clasp. The friend’s take it back to Joe's tent to discover what it hides with deep consequences.

Secret Triplets: The Billionaire's Second Chance

I stood at my mother's open grave in the freezing rain, my heels sinking into the mud. The space beside me was empty. My husband, Hilliard Holloway, had promised to cherish me in bad times, but apparently, burying my mother didn't fit into his busy schedule. While the priest's voice droned on, a news alert lit up my phone. It was a livestream of the Metropolitan Charity Gala. There was Hilliard, looking impeccable in a custom tuxedo, with his ex-girlfriend Charla English draped over his arm. The headline read: "Holloway & English: A Power Couple Reunited?" When he finally returned to our penthouse at 2 AM, he didn't come alone-he brought Charla with him. He claimed she'd had a "medical emergency" at the gala and couldn't be left alone. I found a Tiffany diamond necklace on our coffee table meant for her birthday, and a smudge of her signature red lipstick on his collar. When I confronted him, he simply told me to stop being "hysterical" and "acting like a child." He had no idea I was seven months pregnant with his child. He thought so little of my grief that he didn't even bother to craft a convincing lie, laughing with his mistress in our home while I sat in the dark with a shattered heart and a secret life growing inside me. "He doesn't deserve us," I whispered to the darkness. I didn't scream or beg. I simply left a folder on his desk containing signed divorce papers and a forged medical report for a terminated pregnancy. I disappeared into the night, letting him believe he had successfully killed his own legacy through his neglect. Five years later, Hilliard walked into "The Vault," the city's most exclusive underground auction, looking for a broker to manage his estate. He didn't recognize me behind my Venetian mask, but he couldn't ignore the neon pink graffiti on his armored Maybach that read "DEADBEAT." He had no clue that the three brilliant triplets currently hacking his security system were the very children he thought had been erased years ago. This time, I wasn't just a wife in the way; I was the one holding all the cards.

While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her

As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole. I begged him for help, my vision blurring. But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background. "Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again." He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm. I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube. Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry. Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled. "You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up." He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research. I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym. They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive. They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity. I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding. I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it. Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house. The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born.

Rejected Luna, Claimed by the King

As a wolfless charity case at the Hyde Pack's celebration, my world shattered when Braydon, my supposed protector, publicly announced Katherine Parrish as his Luna, erasing me. Heartbroken, I fled into a terrifying contract marriage with Alpha King Dallas Marshall for protection. Braydon's public assault and threats forced me to reveal my secret marriage, challenging the King. My "protection" felt like a prison. Braydon revealed I was a "key" to power, not a mate, confirming my fears. Enraged by my attempt to take a morning-after pill, Dallas forced me to swallow it, then branded my lips with a furious kiss. His chilling silence hardened my resolve. I immediately drafted an addendum to our contract, setting strict boundaries to reclaim control.

Rejected by the Son, I Chose the Don

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.

Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father

I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector. That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world. The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor. The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist. Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch-a titan of industry and my best friend's father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared. "Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb. Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen. "Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back." I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe.

No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

I went to the City Clerk’s office for a routine copy of my marriage license to finalize a trust fund audit. I expected a simple piece of paper, but the clerk’s pitying look told me my entire life was a lie. "The license was never finalized, Ms. Oliver. In the eyes of the state, you are single." The three-hundred-guest wedding at the Plaza and the Vogue features meant nothing. My husband, Gray Cooley, had intentionally filed the documents with a "procedural defect" so he could discard me without a legal divorce. Moments later, an iCloud invite titled "Our Little Secret" popped up on my screen. It was a photo of my best friend, Brylee, holding a positive pregnancy test at our Hamptons estate. Gray’s text to her was the final blow: "Happy anniversary, babe. This baby is the best gift. Once the trust unlocks today, we’re done with the charade." I soon discovered they were even stealing my career, reassigning my architectural masterpiece to Brylee while preparing my eviction notice. Gray's mother called me a "barren mule" in a leaked recording, mocking the infertility I suffered after saving Gray’s life in a construction accident. I wasn't a wife; I was a three-year placeholder used to secure his inheritance. How could the man I bled for treat me like a disposable prop? How could my best friend carry his child while pretending to comfort me through my darkest moments? The betrayal burned until it turned into a cold, hard stone of fury. I didn't cry. Instead, I walked into the penthouse of the Barretts, the Cooleys' most powerful rivals. I signed a marriage contract with Kane Barrett, the man the tabloids called the "Beast of Wall Street." "I want a wedding," I told his father, my voice steady and lethal. "Bigger than the one I had with Gray." If they wanted me gone, they would have to watch me become the woman who owns their world.