Emma Mountford

Saints and Sinners - She was the light to my dark. The saint to my sinner. with her innocent eyes and devilish curves. A Madonna that was meant to be admired but never touched. Until someone took that innocence from her. She left. The darkness in my heart was finally complete. I avenged her, I killed for her, but she never came back. Until I saw her again. An angel dancing around a pole for money. She didn't know I owned that club. She didn't know I was watching. This time I won't let her escape. I will make her back into the girl I knew. Whether she likes it or not. Judge and Jury- I can't stop watching her. I'm not even sure I want to. Taylor Lawson, blonde, beautiful, and totally oblivious to how much dangers she's in. She's also the one juror in my upcoming murder trial that hasn't been bought. The one who can put me behind bars for a very long time. I know I should execute her. After all that's what I do. I am the Judge. I eliminate threats to The Family. And Taylor is a threat. But I don't want to kill her. Possessing her, making her love me seems like a much better plan for this particular Juror. Book 3- Coming Soon! These stories can be read alone but for the full experience it's best to read Savage Sons first!

Havoc - Havoc A sweet like honey accent and a pair of hips I couldn't keep my eyes off. That's how it started. Darcie Summers was playing the part of my old lady to keep herself safe but we both know it's more than that. There's something real between us. Something passionate and primal.Something my half brother's stupidity will rip apart unless I can get to her in time. Darcie A pretend outlaw boyfriend to keep me safe until I could go home. It all sounded so easy. Until I started to get to know him. Until he kissed me. And then I was lost. I need Havoc more than I've ever needed another person. Especially now, when my ex fiances betrayal threatens my very life. Cyber - Cyber Everyone has that ONE person that got away, right? The one who you wished you had treated differently. For me, that girl has always been Iris. So when she turns up on Savage Sons territory needing help, I am the man for the job. The only man for the job. Every time I look at her I see the beautiful girl I left behind but Iris is no longer that girl. What I put into motion years ago has shattered her into a million hard little pieces. And if I'm not careful they will cut my heart out. Iris He still sees the weak girl I was years ago, I can see it in his eyes every time he looks at me. Cyber thinks I need saving. He thinks he can save the day. But there's one thing he hasn't worked out yet....He's the villain in this story... Fang- Fang. The first time I saw her, she was sat on the side of the road drinking whiskey straight from the bottle. The second time was when I hit her dog. I had promised myself never to get involved with another woman after the death of my wife. But Gypsy Rose was different. Sweeter, kinder and with a mouth that could make a sailor blush. She was also too good for me. I am Fang, President of the Savage Sons. I am not a good man, I've taken more lives than I care to admit even to myself. I am the total opposite of the free-spirited Gypsy Rose. But I'm going to keep her anyway. Gypsy Rose Relocating was meant to be a fresh start. A chance to start over. It wasn't a lot to ask, Until the president of the local motorcycle club started taking an interest in me. I shouldn't want Fang. He is everything I despise in a man. Too alpha, too loud and worst of all he knows how to press all of my buttons. But he isn't the only man after me. And when my past catches up with me, not even the president of the Savage Sons MC will be able to escape it. Monster- Monster They call me Monster, and no one can blame them. I am the man the Savage Sons call in when they want something really unsavoury doing. My job was meant to be simple, seduce the police chiefs daughter and leak the pictures to the press. No biggie. Except now I've kissed, touched and tasted her. I can't get enough. She might have the face of an angel but I'm not fooled. Angela is as dark and twisted as I am. The devil in her might just give my monster a run for its money. Angela He calls me angel but that couldn't be further from the truth. I am no angel. A darkness lives inside of me. One that rivals even his. Monster should be careful. Theres no going back when you get into bed with the devil. Hansel - Hansel I didn't mean to say the words; they just fell out of my mouth. And the moment I said them, I wished I could take them back. I was angry at her, and she was always angry at me. We had wanted to hurt each other. That was why the words came screaming out of my mouth. And I knew... I just knew that I had gone too far. The way she recoiled from me was a punch to the gut. I tried, I really tried to form the words to make her believe I hadn't meant it. But by then it was too late. The front door had already slammed shut behind her. I knew it was the end of our marriage, the end of the life we had always dreamt of having with one another. The end of me and her. One sentence and my life imploded before my eyes. And now she is back and embroiled in a dangerous game of cat and mouse with a killer. And she's firmly on his radar... the worst thing though? The killer just might be someone we know. Who am I meant to trust, if I can't trust, my brothers in The Savage Sons? I won't fail her though, not ever again. When this is all over, she will be mine again and this time I won't be letting her go. It's time we got our happily ever after.

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."

I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.

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 spare daughter of the Vitiello crime family, born solely to provide organs for my golden sister, Isabella. Four years ago, under the codename "Seven," I nursed Dante Moretti, the Don of Chicago, back to health in a safe house. I was the one who held him in the dark. But Isabella stole my name, my credit, and the man I loved. Now, Dante looked at me with nothing but cold disgust, believing her lies. When a neon sign crashed down on the street, Dante used his body to shield Isabella, leaving me to be crushed under twisted steel. While Isabella sat in a VIP suite crying over a scratch, I lay broken, listening to my parents discuss if my kidneys were still viable for harvest. The final straw came at their engagement gala. When Dante saw me wearing the lava stone bracelet I had worn in the safe house, he accused me of stealing it from Isabella. He ordered my father to punish me. I took fifty lashes to my back while Dante covered Isabella's eyes, protecting her from the ugly truth. That night, the love in my heart finally died. On the morning of their wedding, I handed Dante a gift box containing a cassette tape—the only proof that I was Seven. Then, I signed the papers disowning my family, threw my phone out the car window, and boarded a one-way flight to Sydney. By the time Dante listens to that tape and realizes he married a monster, I will be thousands of miles away, never to return.

On our first wedding anniversary, my husband walked out the door. Not for business. For her. I left the divorce papers on the table, my wedding ring next to his untouched champagne, and I disappeared into the night. For a year, I watched Dominic Rossi—the ruthless Underboss of the New York syndicate—drop everything the moment his phone buzzed with another crisis from Sophia. A panic attack. A sleepless night. A lie. I was his wife, the woman he’d promised to cherish, but I was never his priority. So I chose myself. Now he’s tearing the city apart trying to find me. But I’m already gone—building a new life with a job that’s mine, an apartment that’s mine, and a name that doesn’t belong to him. The girl who waited in that penthouse is dead. The woman who walked out isn’t looking back. When Dominic finally corners me, I see the cracks in his armor. He says he’s sorry. He says he loves me. He says he finally understands. But some words are too late, and some promises can’t be fixed. He made me guess for a year. Now it’s his turn to wonder if I’ll ever come back. A heart-wrenching, standalone mafia romance about a woman who refused to be second choice, and the man who learned too late what he’d lost.

Camille Laurent was stolen at birth. Swapped by a greedy nanny, abandoned without a second thought, and erased from her rightful place in one of the most powerful families in the country. While the real heiress struggled to survive, the nanny's daughter, Talia, was raised in luxury as the beloved jewel of the Laurent family, pampered by Camille's parents, adored by her three brothers, and even promised to the prestigious Matteo Devereux through a childhood engagement arranged by their grandparents. Then the truth came out. Six months ago, Camille was finally brought back to the Laurent family. To protect the family reputation and prove their devotion to their bloodline, the Laurent patriarch transferred 35% of his personal shares into Camille's name overnight, instantly making her one of the wealthiest heiresses in the country. It brought anxiety to all the Laurent family. But what they don't know.is that Camille never needed them. Behind her elegant smile lies a woman filled with secrets powerful enough to shake the whole family. She's a miraculous healer capable of curing the incurable poisons. Yet despite everything, her family still chooses Talia. Every accusation against Talia is forgiven. Every scheme against Camille is brushed aside. Even Matteo, the man who was supposed to be Camille's fiancé-cannot let go of the woman he always believed belonged by his side. But while the Laurent family underestimates Camille, another man begins to see exactly who she is. Dante Moretti. The ruthless heir of an old-money dynasty. A billionaire CEO worshipped by the public.and the merciless king of a criminal empire hidden beneath the city's glittering surface. When Dante is poisoned by a rival syndicate with a deadly toxin no doctor can cure, he offers a fortune for anyone who can save him. Only Camille can. Their deal is simple: she becomes his personal physician, and he gives her anything she wants.

On my birthday, my husband Dante asked for a divorce over a plate of cold lasagna. He held my hand, tears in his eyes, and told me his mistress was pregnant. "It’s a miracle, Elena," he wept. "God has finally given me a son." He looked at me with pity, calling me "broken" because I hadn't given him an heir in eight years. He moved his pregnant mistress into the penthouse I paid for, and his mother mocked me as a "dry vine" while cooking tonic soups for the new woman. They didn't know the truth I had buried three years ago. I remembered the day the doctor slid the file across the desk: *Azoospermia. Zero sperm count.* Dante was the sterile one. I had burned the results to protect his fragile ego as a Mafia Don. I took the blame. I drank his mother's vile herbal poisons every morning until I vomited, just to keep his secret. Now, he was discarding me for a "miracle" that was biologically impossible. I signed the divorce papers without a tear. Then I bought the debt of his company, put on a blood-red dress, and walked into his heir's Christening. I didn't come to object. I came to plug a USB drive into the projector and show the entire underworld exactly whose "miracle" that baby really was.

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."

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.

Valerie Thorne: Raven Blackwood was the man I liked since I was a child, made my heart race before I even knew what love meant. But childhood ends. Innocence fades. And Raven... Well. Raven became my worst nightmare. Even the devil would sit back and take notes from him, when it came to torture, harm, use, and kill. His grey eyes, hypnotic, dangerous, and unforgettable, would make anyone fall in love with, but same grey eyes would make anyone feel death. And every time they met mine, I couldn't tell if he looked at me with the love with the depth of oceans for me, or was I another game he was playing, another pawn he planned to destroy? Raven Blackwood: Valerie Thorne. The girl who once was gentle, the sweetest ever I known. And now looked at me like I burned the sky. She was the light, too soft for the world I lived in, too good for the blood on my hands. But I never claimed to be anyone good. I never promised her good things. I only ever promised her one thing. That she was mine. Her fear didn't surprise me. Her hate? Maybe. But it's the way she still looked at me, like she wants to run and stay all at once. Because no matter how many sins I had, and will carry. No matter how deep I've dragged her into my hell. She's the only piece of heaven I ever wanted to keep.