Crime – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Crime – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:12:37 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0.1 http://www.wownovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Crime – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com 32 32 A Lick and A Promise (Avenging Angels #5) Read Online Kristen Ashley http://www.wownovels.com/a-lick-and-a-promise-avenging-angels-5-read-online-kristen-ashley Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:12:37 +0000 https://www.wownovels.com/a-lick-and-a-promise-avenging-angels-5-read-online-kristen-ashley Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Crime, Funny, Suspense Authors: Kristen Ashley Series: Avenging Angels Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 139088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >135

Luna Nelson and Knox Chambers fell together fast, and they did it hard. It was so big, so special, they wanted it just for themselves and kept it a secret from their found family: the Avenging Angels and the Hottie Squad.

They both knew this was it. Together forever.

What Luna didn’t know was that Knox had secrets.

Secrets that tore them apart.

But when Knox asked for them to continue being friends—for the sake of their crew, and so he wouldn’t lose her—Luna loved him enough to say yes. Yes to the torture of being in the life of a man who was the love of hers, but he let her go.

Then, Knox gets shot. He gets shot not because he’s got a dangerous job (which he does), but because his family is an absolute mess.

With the man who means everything to her recuperating, Luna can’t keep away.

While Luna tries to keep the Angels safe from interfering in Knox’s family’s criminal enterprises, she and Knox circle each other, drawing a different kind of blood.

Will Knox continue to keep his secrets?

And will both of them be safe in the Chambers Family Feud?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

ONE

HE WANTS YOU

I shouldn’t be here.

I knew I shouldn’t be here.

But when Raye called, even though my mind said one thing (that I shouldn’t be here), my body (okay, my heart) said another.

So I was here.

The good news: I was just one more body in the mix, so it wasn’t like I was the cast-off chick hanging around, embarrassing herself pining for some dude.

In other words, that hospital waiting room was a crush seeing as all the Hottie Squad was there, all the Angels along with Tex, Nancy, Shirleen, Marjorie. Even Tito was there.

So I was just another person in a sea of people worried as fuck Knox got shot.

That was the bad news, Knox had been shot.

Twice.

He’d been shot…twice.

Oh yeah.

That was the way bad news.

He did not get shot while conducting Nightingale Investigations & Security business, which it was my understanding was a possibility, if not a probability in their line of work due to them not being your average, everyday private investigations and security business, but a whole lot more.

He got shot because his family was a nightmare.

More good news, the surgeon came out and told us he was out of surgery, stable, resting and no lasting damage had occurred. Though he’d need some time to mend and do physical therapy to regain full strength in his shoulder and leg.

Okay, so that was mixed good news because, absolutely, no lasting damage was obviously a good thing.

But he had to recuperate from two gunshot wounds he got because his family was borderline ready for their episode of Evil Lives Here, and that totally freaking sucked.

More of that mixed good news, my staring contest with Cheyenne was over.

Although I sensed why she hated me—even though it was lame as hell, since she’d had him for a while, and I didn’t (well, I did, but it wasn’t a very long while)—what I didn’t know was why she was there at all.

They’d broken up.

But by damn, when the surgeon came out, the bitch popped out of her seat like a demented jill-in-the-box and shouldered even Cap and Mace out of the way (respectively, Knox’s best bud and his boss) to belly up to the doc.

She also lied and said she was Knox’s partner, so she got to be the first to go back and see him.

Usually, the dudes were super cool with chicks. Lots of patience (needed), lots of understanding (also needed—what could I say? we were a bunch of nutso broads), all kinds of room to be who we were and do what we did (as, of course, it should be—save Knox in that scenario, but that was a longer story).

But when Cheyenne did that, everyone got pissed, and even the dudes didn’t hide it.

And when she did it, Raye took my hand (again, she’d been holding it on and off for the last three hours), and Brady shot me a look.

Truth: Brady and I had screwed the pooch.

Honestly, it seemed a good idea at the time.

Okay, not a good idea. A demented, in-your-face, heartbroken idea. But when you were heartbroken, demented ideas often seemed like good ones.

Then again, I was learning not to lead with the heart. Though, admittedly, I was learning this by messing up royally because I’d done something stupid at the edict of my heart.

My heart had me sitting right there, benched, because I meant nothing to Knox except being a member of his friend posse.

A distant one.

Someone he was around who he tolerated.

And that was it.

And my heart led me to pretend-flirt with and, okay, semi-kinda fake-date Brady (really, it was just two friends hanging out, but we wanted Knox to think it was something else) after Knox got together with Cheyenne.

We did this so he might feel a little bit of what I was feeling since Cheyenne was suddenly at all of our AAHS shindigs (Avenging Angel/Hottie Squad, for your information, of which I was a member of the former, and for more information, that former was unprofessional, unpaid chicks who stuck our noses in places they shouldn’t be, but someone had to do it, and the latter was professional, trained, skilled badasses).

And since Knox scraped me off, and he knew where I was at with him, he had to know how that would sting.

Sure, he’d made himself clear, and as such, I had no claim, so who was I to engage in some harebrained fake-dating scheme to make the guy I liked (right, okay, dammit…loved) jealous?

The idea was doomed from the start.

Why I couldn’t get a guy like Cap, like my bestie Raye did—a man who struggled with our whole Avenging Angels vigilante gig, but he got a lock on it because he knew how important it was to his woman—I did not know.

Or an Eric or Gabe, my other friends, Jess’s and Willow’s dudes, who were super chill and didn’t kick up a fuss at all.

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By Blade I Protect (By Blade #1) Read Online Penelope Sky http://www.wownovels.com/by-blade-i-protect-by-blade-1-read-online-penelope-sky Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:12:11 +0000 https://www.wownovels.com/by-blade-i-protect-by-blade-1-read-online-penelope-sky Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Mafia Authors: Penelope Sky Series: By Blade Series by Penelope Sky
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >86

My father runs the only arms operation in Sicily, and now that the Skull King is monopolizing the drug empire in all of Italy, we’re in hot water.

Because everyone wants to take our business for themselves—because they aren’t strong enough to handle the Skull King.

Just when things are looking bad, Wolfe shows up looking for a job. He was born to inherit the throne of Cosa Nostra, but a mysterious falling out has forced him to turn his back on the only family he’s ever known.

None of us are sure if we can trust him, so he has going to start at the bottom and prove his loyalty. With a cocky smirk on his face and a twinkle in his eyes, he does what he’s told.

But the second he sets eyes on me—I become the real thing he wants. But I’m not dumb enough to get involved with one of the guys at the syndicate, no matter how insanely hot he is, so I tell him it’s never going to happen.

But this man doesn’t stop.

I’m a nurse that stitches bullet holes and keeps my father’s men alive on top of everything else I do for the business, and Wolfe continually cuts and stabs himself because he knows it’s the one way to get alone me alone. While I stitch him up, he stares and smirks at me…like I’m already his.

Even when my father is present, he stares at me the same way—like he doesn’t care if this obsession gets him killed. He’s honest and passionate and smart—but I also think he’s a little crazy.

I finally give in, saying it’s just for the night, but this man wants all of me before he ever touches me. An affair somehow turns into the most intense relationship I’ve ever had, and Wolfe wants to be straight with my father about us even if it gets him killed.

But that’s way too risky, not when our enemies are moving in, not when there’s a snitch in our midst—and everyone thinks it’s Wolfe. Our relationship becomes clandestine and forbidden, and while that would be fun for other men, Wolfe disagrees.

Because he wants me—forever.

When so much is set against us, I’m not sure if our relationship will survive.

But Wolfe believes it will—because he’ll die for it

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

WOLFE

I drove through the quiet streets of Palermo sometime between two and three in the morning, dried blood still on my hands because I hadn’t had time to scrub it off. I turned down a side street and then another, pulling up to the large wall with a black gate.

A small slab of steel slid open to reveal a pair of dark eyes. They looked at me for a millisecond before it quickly shut again.

“You know it’s me, asshole.”

The large gate opened inward, and I drove into the open courtyard where other cars and motorbikes were parked. I left the car there and hopped out.

Matteo, the guy who checked the peephole, walked up to me with a cigar in his mouth. His eyes were on my hands, which were still covered in blood. He wordlessly reached into his back pocket and grabbed a cloth, tossing it at me. “It went alright?”

I caught it then grabbed a bottle of whiskey from one of the nearby crates and poured it over my hands before I started to scrub my skin. “It always goes alright.”

“You sure about that?”

I swiped the cloth underneath my fingernails to catch the drops that had spread. “It’s not my blood, is it?” When my hands were clean, I tossed the cloth back at his chest, and he caught it.

“Don Russo is waiting for you inside.”

I headed to the double doors, flanked by several guards, and then entered the three-story villa hidden in plain sight in this coastal city of Sicily. I exchanged head tilts with some of the men as I headed to Don Russo’s office on the second floor. I had to cross the seven-thousand-square-foot villa, make my way up a marble staircase, and then I ended up in his office.

The other guys were already there, Uncle Marco and Costa, and a few of the others.

Don Russo was in the middle of a heated conversation with Uncle Marco, but he dropped the discussion the second I stepped inside. “You handled Raphael?”

“Yep.” My knuckles were bruised, and the barrel of my gun was empty.

Don Russo took my word for it and moved on. “It’s come to my attention that Celso is making a lot of money. Hand-over-fist kind of money. The Polizia look the other way without a bribe, so that’s even more money in their pockets.” He leaned against the desk, his arms crossed over his chest. “I think it’s time we get in on the action. You know…” He cocked his head to one side and then to the other. “Get in on the action.” He wore gray slacks and a button-up, collared white shirt, dressed for business meetings with suits rather than the streets. He was about to leave his fifties and step into his sixties, but he was still sharp as a tack.

“What kind of action are we talking about, Don?” I was the only one brave enough to ask, or they all already knew the plan.

“Prostitution,” he said, his dark Italian eyes on me.

“Prostitution?” I asked blankly. “We’re American pimps now?”

“We would hand the specifics to a different crew so we can keep our focus on our existing accounts,” Don Russo said with patience. “It won’t interfere with our normal affairs.”

I thought it was beneath us, but I knew I shouldn’t resist him too much in front of the others. Could give him an earful when it was just the two of us with a couple glasses of wine—or preferably whiskey.

When I had nothing else to say, Don Russo turned his attention to Uncle Marco. “We get the girls from Armando from the mainland. We can get them to the docks and bypass customs, as with everything else.”

My eyebrows immediately furrowed in confusion. “Get the girls from Armando?”

Uncle Marco took over. “We purchased them from the Skull King. Wasn’t cheap, but they’re broken in, so there won’t be much resistance.”

Now my eyes flicked from Don Russo to Uncle Marco and then back again. I wasn’t sure how much time passed, maybe a few seconds, but the shock made it feel like minutes. I wasn’t shocked or disturbed by much, but this was despicable. “You’re serious right now?” My eyes were on Don Russo, the man responsible for every decision made by Cosa Nostra. “We’re traffickers now? That’s not who we are.”

Uncle Marco shook his head slightly so I would quiet down.

I ignored him. “That’s not who we are.” I focused on Don Russo. “I’m not saying we’re saints by any means, but we stick to our side of the street and let everyone else pass without interference. We may be criminals, but we’re decent ones. When did that change?”

“Wolfe—”

My eyes flicked back to Uncle Marco. “Does it look like I’m speaking to you?” I snapped.

Uncle Marco stared me down like he wanted to slice a knife down my cheek.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >86

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Our Pain Our Pleasure (Last to Fall #3) Read Online J.A. Huss http://www.wownovels.com/our-pain-our-pleasure-last-to-fall-3-read-online-j-a-huss Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:11:20 +0000 https://www.wownovels.com/our-pain-our-pleasure-last-to-fall-3-read-online-j-a-huss Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Mafia Authors: J.A. Huss Series: Last to Fall Series by J.A. Huss
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Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 95046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >98

Some saints are wrapped in sin and some monsters will die for you.

EMMALEEN
Six weeks of dungeon submission.
Two men who complete me.
And then this Irish jerk shows up and stuffs me in a trunk!
I should scream.
Or kick.
Or punch him in the face.
But I don’t do any of that.
Because I'm a hot mess who gets off from taking orders and I can’t tell if this is a kidnapping or a really aggressive meet-cute.

GIOVANNI
Romance is a game I was never going to win.
I built her a dungeon.
He built her a chapel.
I gave her a collar.
He gave her books.
Little Miss Take needs to come home.
To me.
To my rules.
To my monster who never needed to be a saint.
I don't have to be better than him. I just need to be the one willing to die first.

My sin, my sacrifice... until confession became the only way to keep her forever

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

The autumn air bites through my suit jacket as I step onto Mama Bavga's front terrace, the heavy oak door closing behind me on the controlled chaos of Sunday dinner cleanup.

Congratulations, October. You're basically the mob boss of seasons—showing up uninvited, making everyone uncomfortable, leaving a trail of dead things in your wake. Very on-brand.

I stop mid-step—halfway down the stone stairs leading to the driveway.

What the fuck was that?

I replay the thought, dissecting it like evidence at a crime scene. The rhythm. The absurd comparison. The self-aware humor wrapped in cynicism.

I just… created an Emmaleen-ism.

All by myself.

A laugh erupts from me as I continue descending the terrace stairs and start walking towards the Aventador.

Somewhere in the past weeks—between the contracts, and the positions, and the poems she writes in perfect terza rima while I fuck her senseless—Emmaleen Rourke has infected my internal monologue.

Her chaos has leaked into my carefully ordered mind like water.

The corner of my mouth twitches. An expression I don't recognize on my own face. Something dangerously close to amusement.

Oh, she would love this. October as a mob boss. She'd spiral it into a fifteen-minute monologue about seasonal intimidation tactics and pumpkin spice as a protection racket.

The thought of her voice—breathless, rambling, somehow both anxious and confident—settles somewhere behind my ribs.

A place located suspiciously close to my heart.

The front door opens on the terrace above me, leaking sounds from inside, then Jino is skipping down the stairs. He passes me, clicking his key fob to make his car chirp. "Gotta swing by my place," he calls over his shoulder. "Need to grab clothes, some gear for tomorrow's session."

"All right. How long?"

"Twenty minutes, probably. I'll meet ya at home."

Home. He's looking at me when this word comes out. The word lands between us like a loaded weapon.

Jino shrugs up one shoulder—a gesture that splits the difference between acknowledgment and dismissal. Half apology for the slip, half defiance that he doesn't particularly regret it.

The movement is casual enough to dismiss, deliberate enough to notice.

I don't correct him. Don't point out that my mansion isn't "home" in any traditional sense of the word. It's just the current operational base, temporary like everything else in this business.

But I also don't miss the implication threaded through his choice of words.

That Emmaleen has become his gravitational center.

That her space—and by extension, my space—has expanded to include him in its orbit.

We bump knuckles—brief, efficient contact that says everything required without wasting words. Then he slides into his black Challenger.

I turn toward the Aventador.

The matte black body gleams under the estate's exterior lights. The scissor door lifts and when I lower myself into the driver's seat, the cockpit wraps around me like a second skin.

When I press the start button, the engine doesn't roar. It detonates—a sound engineered to remind everyone within earshot that power isn't always subtle.

I Follow Jino down the driveway, then we diverge, turning in opposite directions and Sewickley Heights stretches out before me like a carefully curated museum of old money.

The streets are silent, lined with estates hidden behind stone walls and ancient trees. No pedestrians. No traffic. Just empty pavement and the occasional glow of security lights marking properties owned by families who've been here long enough to forget when they first arrived.

The neighborhood fades behind me as I accelerate toward the highway—four lanes of dark asphalt cutting through the Pennsylvania hills towards Riverview.

My estate isn't Sewickley Heights. It never will be. I don't have Mellon money, but my Victorian-era Gothic monolith of dark brick stone sits on five acres of small-town wooded privacy, restored to a level of craftsmanship most of these inherited fortunes wouldn't appreciate.

The estate in Riverview started as a bribe from my father.

A carefully calculated gesture designed to soften the blow of exile. Being sent to Riverview felt like banishment at the time, assigned to manage sleepy operations in a dying coal town while my brothers remained in Pittsburgh, close to the real power and real decisions that shaped the family's future.

Salvatore has always been generous with gifts, but his gifts have never been about affection. They are guilt wrapped in expensive paper, apologies he'll never actually speak aloud, and compensation for the emotional distance he maintains with surgical precision.

But now that Emmaleen is there—and Jino, I have to admit, whose presence has proven more valuable than I initially anticipated—the place doesn't feel like a bribe anymore.

Especially now that Dom and Ricky have stopped treating my dungeon like their personal sex club and moved into their own places. No more stumbling over their weekly rotation of Pittsburgh girls. No more finding discarded lingerie in my kitchen or hearing headboards slamming against walls at three in the morning.

So… Jino's characterization was right.

It's home.

As the highway stretches ahead, dark and mostly deserted this time of night, my mind lands where it's been landing for weeks.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >98

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Rune (Henchmen MC Next Generation #16) Read Online Jessica Gadziala http://www.wownovels.com/rune-henchmen-mc-next-generation-16-read-online-jessica-gadziala Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:11:07 +0000 https://www.wownovels.com/rune-henchmen-mc-next-generation-16-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Crime, MC Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: Henchmen MC Next Generation Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >77

The last thing he expected was for a beautiful woman to storm into the clubhouse looking for him with a gun in her hand and murder in her eyes.

But she was clearly connected to a chapter in his life that he’d spent years trying to forget as he started his new life over in the club.

When she gets away from him, he has no choice but to follow her for answers.

Before long, he’s tangled up in a mystery that’s turning deadly.

Someone doesn’t want the truth uncovered.

And every step they take puts a target on their backs, even as it pushes them closer together

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER ONE

Rune

The blonde let out a high-pitched squeal as the redhead whacked her with the inflatable baton and finally loosened her slippery hold on my shoulders with her legs, sending her crashing backward into the water.

She surfaced, sputtering, as the redhead threw up her baton in victory while she sat on my brother’s shoulders.

“You good?” I asked as the blonde pulled herself up onto the edge of the pool, trying to wipe the eyeliner that had smudged under her eyes.

“I want to blame you for this,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me, “but I lose every time we play, no matter whose shoulders I’m on.”

“You’re taller, which makes you easier to hit. Also, your legs flail when you get whacked,” I told her.

“They do not.”

“They do.”

“Consolatory drink?” Spike asked, moving to drop down next to the blonde and offering her something red in a glass… with an umbrella.

He nodded toward the clubhouse in a universal ‘get lost’ gesture. Maybe another night, I would have been annoyed by that. But I wasn’t really vibing with the blonde. Or anyone else at the party, to be honest. And judging by the way the blonde giggled and leaned into the tall, dark-haired, slim-fit biker, I figured he was halfway on his way to having a very good night.

It wasn’t that the parties had gotten old, per se.

There was always a different kind of energy to them when the club had new prospects like Spike and Cain.

It was probably more that, for the first time since coming back to Navesink Bank, I was the most senior club member at the parties. It changed the vibe. I felt more in charge and less like someone who was just there to have some fun.

Add in the fact that not only was my twin brother here, but so was our younger brother, Vas. And two of our cousins around the same age: Ronan and Carver. Those three weren’t technically prospects yet, but it would be coming soon.

I felt like I’d spent half the night making sure no one did anything so stupid it couldn’t be undone.

The responsibility of it, that suddenly took me back. To another place, another organization, another phase of my life that I’d walked away from declaring that I never wanted the mantle of leadership again.

That was what was so appealing about the club. Yeah, some part of me knew my brothers and I would always find our way back to that life, but it took on a new meaning to know not only was Fallon the one in charge, but he was followed by Brooks, Malcolm, and a whole list of other guys who would outrank me. No one would be looking to me to make life-or-death decisions again. I’d never have anyone’s fate on my conscience again.

Objectively, I knew I could relax. There was very little trouble these guys could get into. But some roles stuck with you: big brother, leader.

Cain moved in at my side, surveying the grounds with me.

Like Spike, he was a newer prospect. Unlike Spike, he wasn’t a lifelong delinquent. Cain had been on the other side of the law for most of his life, working SWAT until he saw some shit he couldn’t look past in his crew, reported it, and got kicked out on his ass for it.

The two men were as contrasted in looks as they were in their histories. While both were tall, Spike was almost thin, whereas Cain was a big fan of the gym. Spike’s face was thinner with cheekbone hollows that almost made him gaunt-looking, black hair and black eyes. Cain had a square jaw, dark blond hair, and blue eyes.

“Looking for fires to put out?” he asked.

“Not used to having my little cousins and brother here.”

“Get that they might be ‘little’ to you, but they’re grown men.”

Grown men.

Christ.

When did that happen?

I could swear it was just a year or so ago that I was grumbling that they were always hanging around me and the older kids like little lost puppies.

He wasn’t wrong, though.

Vas, my youngest sibling, had shot up like a weed while Croft and I were away. Then he’d filled out like a man, looking more like our father every day.

Ronan and Carver were both tall and fit too, like all three got a deal on a fucking gym membership and used the hell out of it. Gone was all the baby fat on their faces, chiseling them out.

It was a strange feeling sometimes being back. There was a familiarity spliced with the unknown. Because I’d been gone during some of the most formative years of their lives. When they stopped just being kids and became actual human beings. I knew what shows they liked as kids, what embarrassing shit they used to do, but I had no idea who they actually were anymore. And it was that way with all the cousins. It’d taken me a long time to get to know the ones in the club already, and the princesses. It was really just these younger ones that were still basically strangers to me.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >77

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Betrothed in Fury Read Online Devon McCormack http://www.wownovels.com/betrothed-in-fury-read-online-devon-mccormack Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:09:54 +0000 https://www.wownovels.com/betrothed-in-fury-read-online-devon-mccormack Genre: Contemporary, Crime, Dark, M-M Romance, Mafia Authors: Devon McCormack Advertisement

Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >95

LOGAN
Charming. Sexy as sin. Out of his damn mind.
That sums up Killian Lorde, one of the most powerful crime bosses in Fury’s underworld.
Since his father passed, he’s stepped into his role as head of the family business.
A role which I, the golden boy of the Wilde clan, more than understand. Forced by birth into a life of corruption and moral bankruptcy, I exist for one to protect my family at all costs.
Only this time, the price is my freedom.
Unbeknownst to me, to maintain my family’s alliance with the Lordes, I’ve been betrothed to Killian.
I’ve always known him to be a bastard, but this arrangement brings out the worst in him.
He’s a monster. Pure, unfettered evil.
He doesn’t just want to marry me. He wants to control and possess me, and when his curiosity becomes obsession, we struggle for power as he demands the one thing I can’t give him.
My complete and total surrender.

Dark MM Romance, grumpy/psycho-sunshine, mob-bosses-to-lovers, morally gray men, frighteningly possessive MC, “Oh, what did that contract say?” arranged marriage, bi-awakening, touch-him-and-die (like, tied up in a sack, thrown into a lake, and left for dead), anything-for-the-family vibes, torture-as-foreplay (just mob bosses doing what they love), “Did I say you could have mashed potatoes?” (iykyk)

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PROLOGUE

LOGAN

There’s something we need to discuss.

After receiving Dad’s text, I’m on edge as I head upstairs to his bedroom.

It’s not just the message, but my brother mentioning Dad was visiting with his attorney and a few trusted advisors. Given the recent, rapid deterioration of his health, it’s not difficult to imagine what they’re here to discuss, but it’s not something I’m eager to face, not when I refuse to believe I can lose my father.

I approach the bedroom door, knots twisting in my chest, and I’m about to knock when Baxter, our butler, opens the door for me, looking somber.

“Is everything okay?” I spit out.

“I’m fine,” Dad assures me from the bed as I nearly push Baxter out of my way.

Dad lies in the same spot as usual, on the left side of the bed, since Mom used to sleep on the right. Of the three men present, I only recognize Finter, our attorney, who expertly solves all the legal scrapes a mob family gets into. This time, though, I know he isn’t here to get us out of legal troubles. Besides, my brother Wrath hasn’t done anything outrageous in a while, on good behavior because he knows what’s ahead of us.

I do too, as much as I try to deny it. It’s evidenced in how pale Dad looks—much paler than yesterday; in his weary eyes that used to be so full of life; even in the way his hands are planted against the bed, one holding some papers in a loose grip, as if he doesn’t have the strength to hold them. These fucked-up reminders of a reality I’m not ready to accept make me want to beat the shit out of this so-called doctor who’s supposed to take care of all his needs. Not like he hasn’t tried his hardest, through rounds of radiation and chemo. Still, someone has to take the blame, so it might as well be him.

I try to settle my nerves. As the eldest of the Wilde sons, it’s always been my duty to set an example for my brothers, so I must be the strong one. And today it feels important to show him how strong I am. Because he made me strong.

“Dad?”

“Get over here, my little man,” he says, and even saying that much is a strain.

I follow his directive, obedient son that I am, approaching the bed, looking to the papers in his tired grasp. Since I was a kid, I’ve seen him with plenty of documents like this. Everything typed out in tiny print, like buying a damn car, which I always found amusing—since most of the agreements our family makes aren’t the sort you can put into writing—but now it makes me suspect this is something much worse. His will.

“How are you feeling?” I ask.

“I’ve been going over everything I need to settle my affairs before the worst of this,” he says, not answering my question.

“Dad, no…”

“It’s no use trying to outrun this.”

Be fucking strong. Prove to him he’s leaving this family in capable hands.

Despite my attempt to bully myself, I can’t fight the tears that push to my eyes, the way my chin quivers at the thought of losing him. “I refuse to accept that. You’re gonna keep fighting this. And you’re gonna win. You’re too strong.”

He’s quiet. It’s hard to tell if he’s thinking or mustering the energy to speak before he says, “Even for a man as strong as me, this…I can’t escape. No one can. Lord knows I’ve tempted death enough that it’s my time. I’ve accepted it, and you need to do the same.”

“I won’t.” I say it like I can simply delude myself enough to make it not so, but I’m aware I’m not the first to have failed in this experiment. Still, a primal instinct won’t allow me to go there.

Dad smirks. “That’s my blood, for sure, streaming through your veins, making you as hardheaded as your old man. You’ll need it to take care of your brothers.”

“If you’re gonna keep talking like this, I’m going back to the library. I was in the middle of a perfectly good book.”

I start like I’m about to head off, and he says, “No, please…”

I freeze in place. I didn’t have any intention of leaving him, was just trying to get him to shut up.

“If you can’t accept it, please humor your old man.” His hand trembles as he passes the papers to me.

“A will?”

“This is better than any will. It’s security for you and your brothers for the rest of your lives, by the Lordes.”

That must be why these two other guys are here—to finalize an agreement with our greatest allies, which is good for us, but I can’t help but despise them because they’re a reminder of what Dad’s come to accept, which I can’t.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >95

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First Time Rush (Worth The Wait #1) Read Online Dani Wyatt http://www.wownovels.com/first-time-rush-worth-the-wait-1-read-online-dani-wyatt Tue, 16 Jun 2026 12:51:12 +0000 https://www.wownovels.com/first-time-rush-worth-the-wait-1-read-online-dani-wyatt Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Drama, Erotic, Insta-Love, Novella, Virgin Authors: Dani Wyatt Series: Worth The Wait Series by Dani Wyatt
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Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >38

Previously published long ago as Where She Belongs. :) This book has been re-edited, largely re-written, additional content added. Now...what you are getting...May is a nineteen-year-old heiress who's never been allowed beyond the gates of her family's estate. But tonight she hops a bus into the city with twelve dollars in her pocket and a plan to get out of her own wedding to a man she's never loved. Her plan is simple, if not wildly flawed…find the first nightclub that's hiring. Then, dance until she's earned enough to get her and her sister new names and a new life.

What she doesn't plan on is Decker. Forty-three, the definition of tall, dark and dangerous. Oh, and he's never touched a woman in his life. By the time May finishes her first sentence, he's absolutely certain he's keeping her. The problem is, May has no idea what her fiancé is actually planning. And it isn't pretty.

Decker is about to discover the darkness that lurks behind the pristine doors of the place that May calls home. And once he does, there is nothing on this earth that's going to take her from him.

Author's The Forever Collection is all virgins, love-at-first-sight over the top fantasy. Fall hard, fall fast, take no prisoners. These are interconnected, following different couples in the series. Best read in order but can be enjoyed as stand alones as well! Get a hot read, hard breeding, happily ever after, no cheating, and an alpha obsessed hero who will paint the streets bloody to keep his girl safe. Step inside. It's steamy

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

Decker

Another girl, another firing. That's how my week is going.

"It was just a hand job." Claudia rolls her eyes, and her fake lashes brush her tattooed brows. "That's barely even anything. I didn't even kiss him, for chrissake."

Her eyes dart to the corners of the room as if not looking at me will change the outcome of what’s about to happen.

"You know the rules," I say, fighting the urge to lecture her like a daughter instead of fire her like an employee.

Believe it or not, it hurts me every time I have to do this. I want to help them all, but in the end, they have to want it. I can't do it for them.

"I'm great at hand jobs. I got him off in like twenty seconds." Claudia pouts. "It's almost like shaking someone's hand. Would you fire Allister for shaking hands with one of the clients?"

Allister, my right-hand man, cuts in. "Congratulations on your skill set. And no, it is not like shaking hands. Did you wear a rubber glove?" His voice is always low, but when he's disappointed, it drops to something like a bass drum learning to speak.

He's pissed. He's the one who talked me into hiring her. I told him she wouldn't take it seriously. Looks like I was right. No pleasure in being right about this kind of thing.

I press my middle fingers into my temples. The lights in here drive ball-peen hammers into my skull.

I glance down at the open employee folder on my desk, then scan around the room. The office is all white. Some would say too white. Too cold. Not me.

Neatly stacked pillars of white boxes line one wall, labeled and color-coded by unpacking priority. One of the girls asked me yesterday my favorite color. When I told her ‘white’, she snorted, said that's not a color. I disagree. White is clean, pure, without blemish. My house is the same way, and I've lived there five years.

I haven't had time to make any of it anything else.

I re-focus on the task at hand.

Claudia.

Allister is my GM. And my best friend. Heart of gold inside a body the size of Texas. The stark lights reflect off his bald head as he shakes it, running a hand back and forth over it, staring at Claudia as she inspects her shimmering pink nails.

This is my club. My rules. The girls dance, they don't strip. They wear barely anything to start with, but nothing comes off, and every customer’s hands stay where I can see them.

But in this environment, today it's a hand job, tomorrow a blowjob, next week one of my girls is in the back of some asshole's car with her face bruised. I've seen it. I won't have it.

"So, I'm done?" Claudia juts out her hip and finally settles her vitriol on me. "You're firing me? This is total bullshit. One hand job and one joint, that's all it was. And now you're firing me? I didn't even smoke it here, for chrissake. You can't tell me what I can do on my own time. This place is turning into the damn Westlake Baptist Church."

I hold up her file. "Yep, you're done. You signed the contract. School, no drugs, no drinking, don't touch the customers. You fucked up." I shrug and close the file. "I don't fire people, Claudia. They fire themselves. Get your stuff out of your locker. We'll send you a month's pay to get on your feet. Allister will walk you out. I wish you the best."

I lean back in my chair. My temples are still pounding, and my stomach is eating itself. One a.m. Haven't eaten since noon.

"You can suck my ass!" Claudia gives me one final middle finger before she stalks out the office door, Allister rolling his eyes at me as he walks behind her.

Sixteen years a Marine. Now I own nightclubs. Funny how life turns out. I don't even drink, and strip clubs never did a damn thing for me. But I got out, and the world doesn't have a lot of use for a retired jarhead with no taste for desk work, so this is what I built. Monarch was the first. Four more after that. This one, Monarch V, opened a month ago.

Every girl who walks through my door — and I do mean every one — gets the same offer. Stick to the rules, and I'll cover whatever they need to get out of whatever they're in. Rehab, attorneys, GEDs, college tuition. I've bashed in a few pimps' faces along the way, too, when they came around looking to collect what they thought belonged to them.

Some of my girls are lawyers now. PTA mothers. Social workers. One's a fucking pediatrician. I keep every Christmas card.

The low bass from the floor bleeds through the open office door. I'm usually gone by midnight. Tonight I'm not. Tuesday is tryout night. Girls who want to dance come in, we look, we decide. I usually stick around for it.

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His Game His Rules (Last to Fall #2) Read Online J.A. Huss http://www.wownovels.com/his-game-his-rules-last-to-fall-2-read-online-j-a-huss Tue, 16 Jun 2026 12:51:05 +0000 https://www.wownovels.com/his-game-his-rules-last-to-fall-2-read-online-j-a-huss Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Authors: J.A. Huss Series: Last to Fall Series by J.A. Huss
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Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >107

Some snakes are worth the bite, and some kings are worth kneeling for.

Emmaleen
Thirty-seven day-one demerits.
One double or nothing dare.
And zero chance I'm leaving this dungeon, like... ever.

I’m the world's most inconvenient Word Collector. Giovanni Bavga’s biggest liability. I won the last game… technically.
But this one isn’t meant to make me stay.
It’s meant to make me leave.

His game, his rules... until surrendering to him became the only way to win.

Giovanni
Control isn't something you keep—it's something you lose the moment you care.

Little Miss Take recites her penance like prayers and writes poetry that destroys me. Now I'm the one unraveling while she kneels between my legs like she was made for my throne.

Emmaleen Rouke needs to break.
In half.
In pieces.
In a hurry if she wants to stay alive.

I need her in love with her chains and the lock on the door.

My crown, my kingdom... until keeping her became the only way to save her life.

The Last to Fall series is an intense deep dive into the psyche of possession, obsession, and what one man will do to keep the woman he loves alive

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

The contrast is obscene. The Aventador—alien spacecraft, alien predator, alien perfection—sits gleaming against brick returning to dust. Nero Nemesis matte black against urban decay.

Rain beads on the windshield, soft and persistent. I don't turn on the wipers. Let it accumulate. Let it blur my view of this place she's been hiding.

It's 7:07. I've been here since 6:45.

I tap my fingers against the steering wheel, counting the twenty-three minutes I've wasted. Twenty-three minutes I could have spent dealing with the LaRiccia fallout. Twenty-three minutes I could have spent making arrangements to contain Rico's disappearance. Instead, I'm parked outside a women's shelter that looks like it should have been condemned during the Reagan administration.

"Double or nothing." The memory of her voice makes my jaw clench. A throwaway line from a woman who doesn't understand that some gambles can't be taken back. Some antes are paid in blood, not cash.

I shouldn't have kept those fucking notebooks at her bedside. Shouldn't have written down every fluctuation in her breathing, every spike in her fever, every word the doctors said. Shouldn't have documented my own pathetic fear when her oxygen levels dropped.

Definitely shouldn't have stayed awake for seventy-two hours straight watching the monitors.

But I did.

What did I expect when I left them behind as evidence that I care?

That she'd just take the money, the passport, and private jet to anywhere-but-here?

That she'd just… play by the rules?

Why the hell would Emmaleen Rourke play by the rules when she can torment me with her weaponized cuteness?

I’m so fucked.

The weeds pushing through the cracks in the parking lot catch my eye. Life finding a way through concrete. Annoying. Persistent.

Like her.

Rico's face flashes in my mind—the shock in his eyes when the bullet hit him. Not fear or anger. Just... surprise. Like it never occurred to him that I'd actually pull the trigger. That his power over me wasn’t infinite. That I’d choose a woman over decades of LaRiccia-Bavga diplomacy.

He miscalculated everything.

The rain falls harder now. Summer is over. The drizzle builds to a steady drum against the carbon-fiber roof. October has arrived with its slate-gray skies and bitter promise of winter. The trees around the shelter's cracked parking lot are tinged with yellow and orange—a transition I didn't notice happening until it was already done.

I check my watch—7:12 now.

Two weeks since Dom and Ricky buried Rico in the woods out in Bucks County. Two weeks of carefully constructed digital breadcrumbs leading to Bangkok, where Deepfake Rico is currently enjoying a vacation complete with Instagram stories and location tags.

Two weeks of preparing for the inevitable moment when Luca LaRiccia realizes his son isn't coming home.

The digital clock on my dash clicks to 7:20. Suddenly, the shelter door flies open and Emmaleen bursts out like she's been launched from a cannon.

She takes the concrete steps two at a time, her lips moving in frantic conversation with herself, hands gesturing wildly at nothing. Classic Emmaleen Rourke crisis mode—all raw nerve endings and no strategy. The woman exists in a perpetual state of last-minute panic, yet somehow survives it every time.

She has no fucking idea where she's supposed to be at 8:00 a.m.

Because I didn't tell her.

The realization settles in my chest like a warm drink on a cold night. This little punishment—withholding the location of our meeting—was calculated. Petty, perhaps, but necessary. Watching her scramble now confirms what I already knew: she's tangled in my game. A fish hooked and fighting, but ultimately dragged along at my convenience and mercy.

I let my gaze catalog every detail of her outfit, an assessment as brutal as a coroner's report.

That blazer. Jesus Christ. Neon pink with shoulder pads the size of dinner plates, like she looted the wardrobe department of a canceled 1987 sitcom. The fabric puckers at the seams, shiny where it shouldn't be, the buttons mismatched as if collected from different garments over decades of neglect.

Below it, a denim skirt hangs like depressed drapery, the hem uneven and fraying. The fabric has that distinctive gray-blue fade of something that's been washed in industrial machines at church basement charity drives for longer than she's been alive.

Her sneakers—I hesitate to even dignify them with that term—appear to have been white once, in the distant past. Now they're a study in urban archaeology, layered with stains telling stories of every puddle she's misjudged. They squeak with each step, announcing her chaotic presence like some kind of deranged metronome.

The outfit isn't just bad. It's a deliberate middle finger. A visual manifestation of "fuck you and your Italian leather shoes." Last week's farmer's market ensemble at least had accidental bohemian charm—this is just sartorial terrorism.

Me: Milan runway, tailored precision, fabrics selected by people who understand the weight and drape of textiles.

Her: whatever fell off the donation truck after being rejected by the third-tier thrift store.

The absurdity compounds as she continues her frantic monologue, completely oblivious to my presence. A $300,000 machine—Italian engineering at its apex, 6.5-liter V12 heart—sits gleaming in this depressing parking lot, and she doesn't even register it.

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The Breaker (Roman Republic #3) Read Online Penelope Sky http://www.wownovels.com/the-breaker-roman-republic-3-read-online-penelope-sky Tue, 16 Jun 2026 12:50:44 +0000 https://www.wownovels.com/the-breaker-roman-republic-3-read-online-penelope-sky Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Crime, Dark, Mafia Authors: Penelope Sky Series: Roman Republic Series by Penelope Sky
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Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >100

In New York Times bestselling author Penelope Sky’s explosive conclusion to the Roman Republic series, an exiled emperor must make his final save his city from a dangerous takeover—or protect his beloved from a lifetime of danger.

I fell in love with the most dangerous man in Rome, knowing exactly who he was. And he fell for me too, knowing one day he’d have to me or his empire.

He chose me.

As brutal as it was, I thought his exile would be good for us. I thought we’d find peace together in a small village outside of Rome, in the comfort of running his family’s restaurant and the promise of our future. In the life growing inside me.

But there’s no peace for a man like Constantine.

No matter where we go, his past will always follow. I see the war waging inside him—the need to protect us battling the urge to reclaim what was lost. To avenge what was taken.

Now, as deadly enemies threaten the empire and his friend clings to life, the decision is mine. Do I ask him to keep his promise and stay with me? Or do I set free the emperor Rome desperately needs?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Constantine

“Thanks for this, Santino.” I admired the contraption he’d made with Medusa’s measurements, a walker that would allow her three legs to move freely but her fourth to be supported with a wheel. We’d gone to school together, and he’d become a contractor and could pretty much build anything.

“So you’re in town for a while?” He crossed his arms over his chest before he leaned against the counter of his front office. His receptionist was in the back on her break.

“More than a while,” I said. “More like permanently.”

“Yeah?” he said with a raised eyebrow. “Your mother must be ecstatic.”

“Haven’t told her yet, but yeah, she will be.” Her scream would probably split my eardrums.

He pushed off the counter with his hips. “Let me know if it needs adjustments. Happy to swing by.”

“Thanks, man.”

I put the seats down in the back of my Range Rover, placed the walker inside, and then headed back toward Taormina, up the mountain over the village, where my villa was nestled on the cliff face. It was still an extraordinary property with nine thousand square feet divided among the three floors, but the palace had felt like a city in comparison. Sometimes it bothered me to know Darius was shitting in my toilet and fucking his whores in my bed . . . but I had what really mattered.

When I returned home, I carried the walker through the entryway and the main common room with twenty-foot-tall floor-to-ceiling windows that showed the sea in the distance. The main floor had two different living rooms, an office, and a formal dining room, and then upstairs was where the bedrooms were located.

Aurelia sat on the rug on the floor with her back to one of the couches, next to the dog bed, and she gave Medusa soft, loving strokes across her cheek to help her relax. A cup of coffee sat on the table, and it still wafted with steam like she’d just made it. She looked at the walker when I put it down in front of them. “Wow, that’s it?”

Medusa opened one of her eyes and stared at me, but she didn’t get up to greet me like she normally would. She was still in pain, even with the meds, so she wasn’t quite herself.

It killed me to see her like that, but I knew I just had to be patient and I’d see her running around again. “Yeah, now she’ll be able to get around on her own. I know she misses being a dog.”

She looked down at Medusa and stroked her cheek. “Yeah.”

Most women liked dogs, but they liked the little ones you could carry in one arm or stuff in your purse. Medusa was a full-grown seventy-pound German shepherd. More like a wolf than a dog. But I knew Aurelia loved Medusa as much as I did. I could see it in the way she cared for her as if she’d had her since she was a puppy. It was so real it couldn’t be faked. “Baby girl, let’s give this a try.” I patted my thigh so Medusa would get up.

She lay there and released a breath through her nostrils.

“Maybe later,” Aurelia said. “She’s having a hard time today.”

When I’d brought Medusa home, I’d just wanted a dog around the house. I never expected to love her like this, to feel like she was a piece of my heart outside of my body. I’d take another bullet to fix her broken leg if I could.

I moved to the other side of Medusa, my arm resting over the cushions of the couch so I could touch the back of Aurelia’s neck, and together, we sat with our dog.

Aurelia continued to pet her fur as she looked at me, wearing nothing but one of my T-shirts, without makeup, doing nothing else except caring for Medusa since she woke up. With the light coming through the windows before us, her eyes were lit up in a glorious way, and she was fucking stunning. “How’s your arm?”

“What do you mean?”

Her hand paused momentarily in Medusa’s fur. “You were shot, remember?”

“Oh, that,” I said with a smirk. “Yeah, I already forgot about it.”

Her eyes did that thing where they shifted back and forth frantically as if I’d just said something crazy. “Isn’t getting shot painful?”

“Not at all. Now getting a shot . . . that’s the worst.”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Any time I’ve been shot, it’s been in the middle of chaos. Adrenaline is high and I’m focused on killing someone, so it’s impossible to feel anything. You just feel your body jerk back from the speed of the bullet, but that’s it. But when you need a shot at the doctor’s office, you just have to sit there and wait for them to stick a big-ass needle in your skin. It’s the worst.”

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The Woman in the Pawnshop (Costa Family #13) Read Online Jessica Gadziala http://www.wownovels.com/the-woman-in-the-pawnshop-costa-family-13-read-online-jessica-gadziala Tue, 16 Jun 2026 12:50:31 +0000 https://www.wownovels.com/the-woman-in-the-pawnshop-costa-family-13-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Action, Alpha Male, Crime, Mafia, Suspense Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: Costa Family Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >78

Years ago, he vanished before he could take his place in the organization.

Now he’s back—older, harder, and responsible for two kids who lost everything.

The family he left behind has moved on. The men he once stood shoulder-to-shoulder with had become bosses, while he’s stuck running cash pickups while he tries to earn his way back in.

But a routine stop at a pawnshop changes everything.

The woman behind the counter is everything he wants but can’t have: smart-mouthed, stubborn, and strong. Worse, his niece and nephew adore her.

He’s determined to stay away. But when she finds herself in the middle of the mystery and is violently attacked, he takes her in to help her heal as they try to figure out what someone might be willing to kill for…

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER ONE

Christopher

This place used to be as familiar to me as my own home. More so. Now, it felt like staring up at a stranger’s house.

I guess, in a way, it was.

I’d been gone for a long time.

I’d been so busy that I’d barely even kept in touch.

All these people I used to know as well as I knew myself might as well be strangers. Hell, I knew I was going to be just as much a stranger to them. So much had changed. I had changed. In more ways than I could even count. Sometimes, I barely even recognized myself.

The man I’d been the last time I stood looking up at this brownstone was so much younger. Hardened, yes, by this life, by the instability of the previous leadership. But lighter. Less weighed down by life.

I barely even knew what had gone down with the family since I’d been called away. I got the marriage and birth announcements. For women I’d never met. Whose stories I didn’t know.

I was still part enough of the organization that I got highlight reels here and there, mostly from the boss’s wife, Gigi, but that was it. I didn’t know shit about what had gone down with the business, who the major players were, or, it seemed, who some of the new members of the organization were.

Because I had no fucking idea who the guy standing guard at the door was.

He was a good-looking kid, everything about him screaming ‘mobster’: tall, fit, black hair, brown eyes, classic bone structure, and put together in a nice suit.

My own suit felt heavy and itchy. I once lived in them, wore them like a second skin. But it had been so long since I’d worn one. I felt like everyone could tell they didn’t quite belong on me anymore.

Finally clocking that I was looking a little too long, the guard glanced at me. “You got business here, get about it. Otherwise, get gone.”

My lips curved up slightly, remembering how things like that used to come out of my own mouth.

Fuck, it felt weird to be back.

“I need to see Lorenzo.”

“Yeah? I need a long weekend on a beach with Megan Fox. But that ain’t happening either. Fuck off.”

I stepped closer, watching the way his hand slipped into his jacket.

“Tell him Christopher is here to see him.”

“Christopher? That supposed to mean something?”

“It will to him.”

He watched me for a second before reaching to open the door, keeping his eye on me until he was inside.

It was maybe ten seconds later when the door flew open.

And there he was.

The capo dei capi of the New York mafia.

The last time I’d seen him, he’d just taken over for his old man.

He looked older, with some gray threading into his dark hair. Then again, I didn’t look the same either.

“Holy shit,” Lorenzo said, a smile breaking across his face. “I didn’t believe Nero when he said a Christopher was here. Man, what the fuck?”

He jogged down the steps toward me, then wrapped me up in a bear hug.

“Haven’t seen your face in fucking ages,” he said as we broke apart.

“Yeah. It’s… weird to be back.”

“Weird? To be back with family? Dunno if I like how that sounds. How have—”

“Boss,” the kid—Nero—called, “hate to be this guy, but you’re not supposed to be on the street right now.”

“Something going down?” I asked, feeling a surge of adrenaline that I hadn’t experienced in years. But there was something familiar and almost comforting about it. Maybe because it was a sign that my body did remember this, that it would all come back to me if I just gave it time.

“Always something,” he said, slapping my shoulder and leading me up the stairs to the brownstone. “Nero, this is Chris. He’s a, fuck, what is it? Second cousin once removed or some shit? Chris, this is Nero. One of Miko’s brothers.”

“Miko,” I repeated.

“Shit, yeah. You have been gone a while. Miko was an associate under Cosimo a while back. He’s a capo now. This fuck is hoping to get there one day.”

A whole new generation getting Made.

That should have been me years ago.

If life had gone differently.

I shook away those thoughts, trying not to let the feelings about being left behind take hold and root.

My life went differently.

Got sidetracked for a while.

I was getting it back on track now.

“Used to have your job,” I told Nero.

“Want it back?” he asked, shooting me a smirk.

Young and hungry.

I remembered those days.

I moved into the townhouse with a man who used to be like a brother to me.

It had been nothing like this the last time I’d been inside. Lorenzo had just started renovating when I left. It looked like a whole home now.

I could see his wife, Gigi, all around in the décor. And evidence of the kids all around: a half-built model car on the coffee table, a pile of children’s books on an end table, a forgotten single sock.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >78

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Bound by Lies (Fatal Alliances #1) Read Online Lylah James http://www.wownovels.com/bound-read-online-lies-fatal-alliances-1-read-online-lylah-james Wed, 20 May 2026 17:50:40 +0000 https://www.wownovels.com/bound-read-online-lies-fatal-alliances-1-read-online-lylah-james Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Mafia Authors: Lylah James Series: Fatal Alliances Series by Lylah James
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Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >108

From Amazon bestselling author Lylah James comes a new dark, arranged-marriage romance about a mafia princess and the cruel man who did everything to ruin her in an effort to make her…his.

For the longest time, I had been a pawn between two empires built on blood.
I had been promised to Matteo, who was supposed to be my future.

But it was his brother who ruined me.

Adrian Salvatore—reckless, merciless, carved from sin and evil. The brother no one dared to control. The one who looked at me like I was always meant to be…his.

He stole my first kiss beneath the moonlight, right there at my engagement party.
And he never stopped.
Not when I begged.
Not when I threatened.

Until one night…

One mistake. One unforgivable moment that shattered everything I was raised to protect. My modesty, my virtue, my family’s honor.

Somehow I found myself bound to Adrian in ways I never wanted.

But he didn’t believe in love.
Everything he had ever done was driven by vengeance.

Adrian wasn’t going to protect me.
Instead, he had promised to break me.

Somewhere between the hate and fear became a reckless obsession.
And with that obsession came more destruction.
We were both damned, but only one of us would survive the monster we’d become.

BOUND BY LIES is book one in the dark and twisted FATAL ALLIANCES series. Please read the trigger warnings

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PROLOGUE

Men have always controlled my life.

First my father.

Then my brother.

And soon my husband.

Every aspect of my existence was carefully orchestrated by them. What I wore, what I ate, where I went to school, and who my friends were.

I was the perfect and poised daughter of Caterina Morelli. The obedient daughter of Santino Morelli. The silent sister of Damon Morelli.

I was incapable of denying them. I never had the choice to say “no.”

They said walk; I walked. They said smile; I smiled. They said jump; I jumped. Even if it was jumping to my own ultimate, pitiful demise.

I merely lived in the shadows of the Morelli family. Usually, the forgotten one. The girl no one saw, so I lingered in the silence — my voice unheard and my heart woeful, until my dreams turned into decaying fragments.

I looked at myself in the mirror, and I saw haunted eyes staring back at me. A stranger, a cruel disguise. A decorated facade.

My mother died today. A fatal car accident that seemed too perfectly orchestrated. My father’s enemies were smart, and they were coming for our family with every intention to eradicate our whole lineage.

I should have felt something: heartbroken or devastated, but there was an emptiness gnawing at my soul.

“Serafina.”

The sound of my name in his gritty voice jostled me out of my thoughts. Damon appeared in the mirror’s reflection, towering over me. “You were taking too long,” he said, as if to explain why he was in the ladies’ washroom. Not that anyone would ever dare to stop him.

Damon Morelli always did what he wanted.

He touched the large bow on the side of my hat, fixing it so that it was no longer lopsided. “You have to present yourself better,” Damon admonished. “Mother has taught you better than this. You are to be sophisticated and refined, Serafina.”

I was being berated for a lopsided bow at my mother’s funeral.

Of course, there was no other choice than to be perfect.

“Yes,” I uttered quietly.

“This is your first public appearance in more than three years. Do not disappoint Father.” His hand slid down to my arm, wrapping his fingers around my bicep.

I nodded.

I knew the rules and consequences.

“Matteo is here and he’ll be seeing you for the first time. You are to impress him.”

I nodded again.

“Do you understand, Serafina?” He squeezed my bicep, not hard enough to leave a bruise but enough to make me inwardly flinch. Though, I showed no reaction to my brother.

Docile. Gentle. Compliant.

“Yes, I understand.”

Damon turned me around so I was facing him. I met his eyes through the black net veil attached to my expensive mourning hat.

My brother stared at me for a long second before he let go. When we walked out of the washroom, he offered me his arm, and I dutifully took it.

We would appear as one unit.

Brother and sister.

Two grieving siblings.

We walked into the church where dozens of faces from the New York Famiglie stared back at us. I kept my chin low, avoiding their deceptive eyes.

Gooseflesh peppered my skin and my lower spine tingled.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Damon and I took our places beside our father; I on his left and my brother on his right. The priest began his sermon after my father nodded in acknowledgment.

“We gather today with heavy hearts, in faith and in sorrow…”

His voice faded.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

My skin tingled again the way it did when I first walked into the church. Not because I knew the Famiglie were looking at me.

No—

Because I felt the warmth of his gaze before I could even see him.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

A part of me wanted to turn around, to look for him. To meet his gaze with my own.

But I didn’t move.

I was Serafina Morelli.

Obedient. Graceful. Faithful.

The seconds ticked by, and I felt him. Watching me. Learning me. Tempting me.

There was something devious about this game of his.

He thought he was in control.

But he was wrong.

This was my story—

CHAPTER ONE

Serafina

My earliest recollection of a funeral was my grandfather's. I knew of him, that was all. He was practically a stranger to me. We never had a bond, but he loved my brother dearly. I always wondered why our grandfather never gave me any chocolate or hugs, as he would to Damon. Then, I grew older… I realized it was simply because I was a girl.

My worth was nothing in his eyes.

He wanted another grandson, a spare to the heir… but instead I was a liability. A hindrance to our lineage.

I was too young to remember much of his death. Being only knee high I was lost in the shuffle of the day, no one cared to check on me or see how I was doing. I had merely faded in the background.

But not today.

No, this time… I was more than just a shadow. I had a dozen sets of eyes on me.

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