Mellovesbooks

[MATURE CONTENT AHEAD!! THIS STORY IS MAFIA MEANING IT HAS A LOT OF VIOLENCE AND STRONG MATURE LANGUAGE] [NO RAPE] [NO CHEATING]
[Note that the Male Lead in this story is not a prince charming who will change for his woman. He's a man with very questionable morals]

I was bred in the mafia, born in the mafia, raised in the mafia, would marry into the mafia, and I would die in the mafia.  

In my house, my father’s word was law. Failure to adhere to the law came with dire consequences. Sometimes physical, mental, or emotional.

He treated us like commodities and assets he would sell to the highest bidder and make some quick buck. It didn’t matter that we were human or that we had opinions. Antonio Agosti was a monster for a father.

He killed any man who tried to get with my sister and me and made us promise to preserve our virginity until marriage. 

And he saw it fit to sell mine to the most dangerous gang in all of Italy, the Cosa Nostra (Sicillian Mafia). He sold me to the most feared man in all of Italy, Nikolas ‘The Beast’ Mancini. 

He was rumored to have crushed a man’s skull with his hands, but I didn’t know if it was true. Either way, he was ruthless, fearless, intimidating, and dangerous. He had eyes as cold as ice and a gaze as calculating as ever. 

He was also strikingly handsome and hot. Every woman wanted him and feared him at the same time. But he chose me. 

The way he looked at me scared me. Especially when he told me, “You’re mine now, Viola. Till death do us part.”

And he was right. The only way out of a Mafia marriage was death. Whether it was arranged as in my case or not. If I tried to leave Nikolai, the whole Cosa Nostra would hunt and kill me. 

And so the question remains, was death better than being married to the devil incarnate?

***EXCERPT 1***
“Any man who looks at you suggestively, I take his eyes. If he so much as touches you, I take his hands. If he sniffs you, I take his nose. If he kisses you or talks to you, I take his tongue.”

Every word sent a chill down my spine, colder than the last. What kind of a monster did I get married to?

“You’re sick!”

He walked closer, covered in Leon’s blood. His stride was powerful and scary. On a normal occasion, I would have stood my ground. However, he had shown me a side of him I’d never seen before.

“You know what the problem is, Principessa? I showed you that I was a gentleman and I was good. I’m not. You’ve taken my kindness for weakness.”

“But—”

He cut me off by grabbing my neck and pulling me closer. My heart raced wildly against my chest and I couldn’t tell if I was turned on or scared. 

“You’re my whore, Viola and I don’t share. Don’t you ever forget it.” Using his leg to spread my legs, he hiked up my skirt using his hand. Goosebumps coated my skin and a trail of fire was left in the wake of his touch. 

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. 

“You only spread these legs for me. Got it?”

“No. I’m not a whore.”

“You’re right. You are MY whore. Now go upstairs and wait for me on the bed before I cut off your lover’s other hand."
***End of Excerpt***
(Second Excerpt inside)

Bought by the Mafia

I fixed my posture and approached my parents at the coffee shop. They weren't even conversing when I got there. Mother was talking Father'a ear off and wasn't even listening. He was too busy looking through his cell.

None of that deterred Mother from speaking. I felt sorry for her.

"Good morning," I greeted as I sat. I gestured for my guards to give us a considerable amount of space and they did.

"At least your husband is protecting you well," Father remarked and sized me up. "He's not doing the right thing. Women always become whores when given freedom. He shouldn't let you leave the house or have a phone."

I wish I could have said I was shocked by his statement but I wasn't. Mother wasn't allowed to leave the house unless it was with him. There were a few times when she was allowed to leave; when she was taking us shopping.

She wasn't even allowed to have friends.

It’s Always Something