Realfantasies

The man I had a passionate one-night stand with turned out to be my stepbrother…and the mafia boss. "The sweet taste of your lips, your lewd moans, all the times that you begged me to do you harder, and the way your hips moved under me…I remember everything about you and that night, Abigail…" After her fiancé suddenly dumps her to marry her best friend, Abigail decides to drown her sorrows in the passionate embrace of an attractive stranger for the night. Fate plays a game with her again, when she finds out that the man that she spent the night with turned out to be her stepbrother, Raphael. Abigail finds herself living together with Raphael after her mother marries his father. With her mother’s perfect marriage at stake, Abigail does everything to hide her secret affair with Raphael from everyone but how can she escape from his seductive traps when Raphael refuses to let her go no matter how many times she begged. When their parents go on their honeymoon, Abigail is left to fend for herself from the lusty and calculating beast living under the same roof. Just when his heated kisses and seductive caresses tear down her walls of defense, Abigail is shocked to learn of Raphael’s engagement and the dark secret behind his family business. While at the same time, their parents are keen on arranging Abigail’s marriage to secure her future. Through it all, can Abigail gain what she desperately yearns for the most from Raphael: His Love. How can these two lovers who are destined to play ‘House’ overcome their cursed forbidden relationship and create a happy ending for themselves?

Dahlia thought that she would be marrying the man of her dreams when she took her twin sister's place in a political marriage. After spending a passionate night with her groom, she wakes up to find that he wasn't who she thought he was. Instead of marrying her twin's fiancé who was her first and forbidden love, she ended up marrying Bradon, the man known as the Mafia King of the underworld. With her sister gone after eloping with her lover and with the country's economic stability at stake, Dahlia has no choice but to continue playing the role of Bradon's willing wife. Little does she know that being the Mafia King's wife would be so physically and emotionally demanding. Being married to the cold, calculating, and dominant Mafia King changes Dahlia's life forever as his seductive touches tame her body and ignites her soul. With each kiss and caress, he teaches her of pleasures unlike any she has ever known and shows her a way to escape her dark past. Shunned by society and her parents since childhood for always being second to her twin sister, Dahlia's life had never been easy. With no one to take her side, Dahlia was used to fending for herself, but what if her only way to survive this time around is to find the key to unlock her husband's cold heart? My other books: Love Slave to the Mafia Boss's Passion, Forbidden Heat, Love Slave to My Devil CEO Boss, Conquering the Emperor, The Alpha Prince's Purchased Maid, and Lust Contracts

[Warning: MATURE CONTENT] "Lust. Pleasure. Desire. I'll teach you everything, but don't come to me looking for love" Purchased by the dominating alpha prince, Mila's life as the personal maid to this lusty prince begins. An innocent maid paired up to serve a wolf in prince's clothing. As Prince Leonard's cruel teasing, seductive caresses, and caring side confuses her heart and melts her defenses, Mila learns of lust, pleasure, and desire that she never knew existed. However, the hot and cold prince isn't interested in giving her the one thing in which she truly yearns for: his love. Caught up in the politics and drama of a kingdom ruled by wolves, Mila finds herself dealing with three alpha princes along with their jealous lovers. While the race to produce the Ultimate Alpha heir that would determine which prince would ascend to the throne as the next king has begun. However, Prince Leonard is against breeding to produce an heir. Mila life's takes a dramatic turn when the royal court starts to believe that she is the only one who can change the prince's mind and become his mate. Can Mila resist Prince Leonard's tempting and seductive charm or will she end up falling hard for him? How long can the two lovers deny their fate? Unbeknownst to them, the night of the full moon is about to change the fate of their lives forever... My other books: Forbidden Heat, Love Slave to the Mafia Boss's Passion, Love Slave to My Devil CEO Boss, Lust Contracts, Conquering the Emperor NOTE: I OWN THE COVER. It is a work commissioned specifically for this book. I own all rights including commercial rights. Please do not copy or steal.

[WARNING: MATURE CONTENT] "Each time you break a rule; I'll claim a part of your body as mine" Forced to marry the heir of the largest mafia syndicate to pay for her parent's debt and her grandmother's hospital bills. "Live with my son for 30 days, if you don't fall in love with him, I'll cancel this contract." Can Malissa live with the handsome, hot and dominating Hayden for 30 days without falling for his charms? However, there are rules to living with this lusty monster and as Malissa breaks them, she learns of pleasures that she never knew existed. As his touches set her on fire, her heart starts to melt. But does the two have a future together when Hayden is in love with someone else and Malissa cannot get over her ex-boyfriend? READ NOW to find out!

For seven years, I was the architect of my fiancé's criminal empire and the strategist behind his every move. I was Dante Gallo’s unofficial Consigliere, his partner in everything but name. Tomorrow, I was finally supposed to marry him and take my place as the queen to his throne. But on the eve of our wedding, a single text message sent by mistake detonated my life. It was a photo from Dante, showing a platinum wedding band on his hand. The message read: “Married this morning. She’s safe now.” My gaze fell to the engagement ring on my own finger. It was the identical band, just smaller. The engraved initials ‘D.I.’ didn’t stand for Dante and I. They stood for Dante and Isabella—his childhood sweetheart. My entire relationship was a lie; I was just a shield to protect his one true love. He dismissed my discovery as a "tantrum." Then, his new bride began taunting me, sending a picture of them tangled in bedsheets with the caption: "Loser." They expected me to break. They thought I would shatter. They were about to find out just how wrong they were. I forwarded the picture to Isabella’s fiancé, a man far more dangerous than Dante. "Your fiancée is in Suite 8808 at the Grand Hyatt," I told him. "I'll meet you downstairs. We're going to crash their party."

I was three days away from marrying the Underboss of the Fazio crime family when I unlocked his burner phone. The screen glowed toxic bright in the dark next to my sleeping fiancé. A message from a contact saved as 'Little Trouble' read: "She is just a statue, Dante. Come back to bed." Attached was a photo of a woman lying in the sheets of his private office, wearing his shirt. My heart didn't break; it simply stopped. For eight years, I believed Dante was the hero who pulled me from a burning opera house. I played the perfect, loyal Mafia Princess for him. But heroes don't give their mistresses rare pink diamonds while giving their fiancées cubic zirconia replicas. He didn't just cheat. He humiliated me. He defended his mistress over his own soldiers in public. He even abandoned me on the side of the road on my birthday because she faked a pregnancy emergency. He thought I was weak. He thought I would accept the fake ring and the disrespect because I was just a political pawn. He was wrong. I didn't cry. Tears are for women who have options. I had a strategy. I walked into the bathroom and dialed a number I hadn't dared to call in a decade. "Speak," a voice like gravel growled on the other end. Lorenzo Moretti. The Capo of the rival family. The man my father called the Devil. "The wedding is off," I whispered, staring at my reflection. "I want an alliance with you, Enzo. And I want the Fazio family burned to the ground."

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.

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.

I was the perfect Mafia wife, my dowry the foundation of my husband's ambition. I paid for his Yale degree, his tailored suits, and the very mansion he called his own. My reward? He paraded his mistress into my bedroom and declared her his second wife, expecting me to silently finance their affair. They thought they had broken a merchant's daughter. They forgot I was raised by wolves. Armed with a blood chit—a life debt owed to my family by the most feared man in Chicago—I walked into the lion's den. I went to Damien 'The Wraith' Falcone, the Dark Don who rules the Outfit with an iron fist, to demand a simple annulment. But the King of Chicago isn't interested in simple transactions. He saw the steel beneath my silk, the vendetta burning in my eyes. He granted me my freedom, but at a price: my allegiance. Now, I'm a pawn in his lethal game of thrones, caught between a treacherous husband I swore to destroy and a ruthless Don who looks at me with a terrifying, possessive hunger. In a city built on loyalty and betrayal, I'm about to teach them all that a queen's wrath is the deadliest weapon of all.

Three days before the wedding. I was hiding in the dressing room, watching my fiancé caress the swollen belly of another woman. Luca, the man who had saved my life five years ago, was smiling at his mistress, Sofia. But the real knife to the heart wasn't the affair—it was the dress. The custom wedding gown he had "lovingly" ordered for me featured intricate silver embroidery along the hem. It didn't spell Elena. It read Sofia. He was planning to make me walk down the aisle wearing his mistress's name. Later that night, I found a video of him mocking me to his crew, calling me a "dead fish" and admitting he only wanted my family's Capo status. He planned to keep his "true love" on the side while I played the role of the oblivious, ornamental wife. He thought I was just a sheltered princess. He forgot that my bloodline was built on vengeance. I didn't cry. I didn't confront him. Instead, I scrubbed his scent off my skin and dialed a number everyone in Chicago feared. "The pact with the Cavallaro family," I asked my father, my voice cold as stone. "Is it still valid?" "Dante is the Underboss now," my father warned. "He is a butcher. He breaks men for sport." "Good," I replied. "I am done playing with boys." I secretly booked the Gold Ballroom across the hall from my original venue. Luca thought he was walking into a marriage on Saturday. He didn't know I was bringing a monster to the altar instead.

I was the brilliant money launderer for the most feared syndicate on the East Coast, and the fiercely loyal wife of its Underboss, Dante. While I worked sleepless nights to build his underworld dominion, he secretly diverted my operations to fund a luxury club for his naive barista mistress. When I confronted them and publicly exposed her, Dante didn't show a shred of guilt. Instead, he slapped me across the face in front of the entire syndicate. He draped his tailored jacket over his crying mistress to shield her, then turned his cold eyes on me. "Apologize to her right now, or I will send every single soldier in your crew to the slaughterhouse." He then weaponized the mafia's whisper network to destroy my reputation, painting me as a hysterical, paranoid woman just to legitimize his affair. For years, I had blindly endured his psychological torture, believing my devotion would eventually earn his respect. But looking at the brutal purple handprint on my cheek, and the ninety-nine dried bouquets of white roses he kept in the attic to carelessly patch over his toxic abuse, my heart finally turned to ice. I didn't throw a tantrum, nor did I beg for his love anymore. I left his apology blood diamonds on the table, drafted my mafia severance papers, and walked out of his territory for good. This time, I would build my own empire, and let him drown in the ruins of his.

I died on a Tuesday. It wasn't a quick death. It was slow, cold, and meticulously planned by the man who called himself my father. I was twenty years old. He needed my kidney to save my sister. The spare part for the golden child. I remember the blinding lights of the operating theater, the sterile smell of betrayal, and the phantom pain of a surgeon's scalpel carving into my flesh while my screams echoed unheard. I remember looking through the observation glass and seeing him-my father, Giovanni Vitiello, the Don of the Chicago Outfit-watching me die with the same detached expression he used when signing a death warrant. He chose her. He always chose her. And then, I woke up. Not in heaven. Not in hell. But in my own bed, a year before my scheduled execution. My body was whole, unscarred. The timeline had reset, a glitch in the cruel matrix of my existence, giving me a second chance I never asked for. This time, when my father handed me a one-way ticket to London-an exile disguised as a severance package-I didn't cry. I didn't beg. My heart, once a bleeding wound, was now a block of ice. He didn't know he was talking to a ghost. He didn't know I had already lived through his ultimate betrayal. He also didn't know that six months ago, during the city's brutal territory wars, I was the one who saved his most valuable asset. In a secret safe house, I stitched up the wounds of a blinded soldier, a man whose life hung by a thread. He never saw my face. He only knew my voice, the scent of vanilla, and the steady touch of my hands. He called me Sette. Seven. For the seven stitches I put in his shoulder. That man was Dante Moretti. The Ruthless Capo. The man my sister, Isabella, is now set to marry. She stole my story. She claimed my actions, my voice, my scent. And Dante, the man who could spot a lie from a mile away, believed the beautiful deception because he wanted it to be true. He wanted the golden girl to be his savior, not the invisible sister who was only ever good for her spare parts. So I took the ticket. In my past life, I fought them, and they silenced me on an operating table. This time, I will let them have their perfect, gilded lie. I will go to London. I will disappear. I will let Seraphina Vitiello die on that plane. But I will not be a victim. This time, I will not be the lamb led to slaughter. This time, from the shadows of my exile, I will be the one holding the match. And I will wait, with the patience of the dead, to watch their entire world burn. Because a ghost has nothing to lose, and a queen of ashes has an empire to gain.

My mother is marrying a monster tomorrow. I'm the only one who remembers. My widowed mother was arranged to marry Lorenzo, a powerful Mafia Capo. I thought his status would finally bring us protection. But on the third day of their marriage, Lorenzo moved his pregnant mistress, Camilla, into the estate's master suite. She loudly claimed the child in her womb was the orphaned blood of a fallen soldier. "A Capo of Lorenzo's stature is doing your mother a service," the Syndicate wives mocked me, demanding we accept our place. Camilla systematically seized my mother's territory cuts and subjected her to endless psychological torture, while Lorenzo simply turned a blind eye. When the baby was born, it bore the exact same distinct birthmark on its neck as Lorenzo. Only then did we realize Lorenzo had used my mother as a convenient shield for his illicit affair, stealing my dead father's legacy and slowly draining our lives away. I didn't understand why the Family's brutal justice allowed a thief to siphon funds under the guise of caring for a martyr's widow, leaving us to die in absolute disgrace. Opening my eyes again, I was back to the day before the mob wedding. Looking at my six-year-old hands, I grabbed the torn marriage petition and stole the secret trust documents. This time, I ran straight to the heavily guarded gates of Don Salvatore, the most ruthless executioner in the city.

For seven years, I bled to protect Dante Morretti and his family. I drained my own inheritance to bribe cops, hire underground doctors, and secure his throne as the Don of New York. But on our seventh anniversary, as I stood outside his club with a custom-forged gift, I saw the syndicate announcement. Dante had just publicly crowned a Capo's daughter as his queen. When I confronted him, he brushed off my anger. "Stop this drama, Eva. You are my fiancée. She is a political necessity." His parents, whose lives I had saved, told me to stop throwing a tantrum. His mother looked at me with pure disdain. "You are the legal wife. You manage the household. You see to our care." Worse, I discovered Dante had used my emergency extraction funds—money meant to keep his family safe—to buy his new queen a luxury penthouse. I had taken a bullet for his mother the exact same night he was caught on camera sleeping with Serena. I gave them my youth, my money, and my blood, only to be treated as an unpaid warden and a disposable shield. I didn't understand how my seven years of fierce loyalty could be erased so easily. But I didn't shed a single tear. I calmly handed Dante an itemized bill for $367,420, dropped my safe house keys on the table, and walked away. This time, I would build my own empire.