They tell me love is a pretty lie. A cruel deception. I wouldn't know-I've never been given the chance to believe in it. A daughter of the Cosa Nostra, passed from one husband to the next like a prized possession, I have learned one thing: a woman's value is measured in obedience. But then I come back, and he's there. Enzo Mancini. Silent. Ruthless. Untouchable. Except... I have touched him. Once, before the lies. Before the fire. Before he left me with nothing but ghosts of a boy who used to stare at me like I was his only sin. Now, he looks at me like I'm his reckoning. Like he's been starving. Like he'll ruin me all over again. The worst part? I want him to. Enzo Mancini She was never supposed to know the truth of that night. The blood on my hands. The fact that I let her believe I was the monster. I told myself I could let her go. That I could watch her slip through my fingers, fall into the hands of men who never deserved her. And I did. She doesn't know what I've done for her. How many bodies I've buried. How many sins I've committed in her name. She's everything I should stay away from. Soft where I am hard. Chaos where I am order. A temptation so dangerous, it should be a death sentence. But I can't stop. I can't stop watching her, wanting her, losing sleep over the way she lingers like a curse in the nightmares she inhabits. She calls me heartless, and like everyone, I let her believe it. She doesn't know that every step she takes away from me is another step toward a man who won't live long enough to touch what's mine. I saved her from the fire long ago, the same one I caused. And now, the flames are swallowing me whole. 17+ Mafia Dark Romance *Standalone*

College? No, this was paradise. Three years filled with partying, not so secret underground drug-deals, and hot-headed men sliding into beds like snakes with no self-control. Things were different now. I wasn't that perfect, frill-wearing angel Mama thought would walk into the house ring-beared. So many things had changed, except for one. Him. He was a disease, one I couldn't get rid of no matter how hard I tried. Everytime he's near, I feel myself turn into something I've never seen before. Like there's something under my skin only he is capable of bringing out. He's manipulative, twisted, and completely wrong in every way. I hate him. Yet every night, from miles away, I find him in my dreams. Mikhail Volkov Fuck the patriarchy. Better yet, fuck everything and everyone. It was a game of cat and mouse, me chasing victories every single day. The Bratva's constant want for war was what kept the fuel in my blood, burning up into flames whenever my knuckles made contact with another opponent. In the end, I'm always the one left standing. This fire in my bones, I feel it burst into flames while every dark memory, thought and desire runs into my fists. So many medals, but only the people around me could see them. The real battle was against my head. And maybe, just maybe, I was afraid to admit that I had no chance in winning it. She makes it harder. An angel with wings to everyone else, yet a master at unveiling those devil's horns only when I'm near. There's this darkness, this fire, in the both of us. The only difference is, she's better at hiding it. She was gone, far away, yet there was this tether dowsed in fuel connecting us, one that only lit up when she came back. Every time she's near, I feel the limits surrounding my wrath being tested. Then again, rules are only made to be broken, right? Mafia Dark Romance *Standalone*