MXian Writes

He is the son of a mafia boss. She is someone he never expected to meet and fall for, but she complicates his life when her existence becomes a threat to his family's empire. . . . 24-year-old receptionist and college dropout Seraphine "Sephie" Azur meets Dominico Tomassini on her boss' superyacht. Dominico is her secret crush, the heir of an Italian banker and real estate mogul. During a party thrown by the Tomassinis, a violent incident thrusts Seraphine into his family's web of secrets. When Dominico is forced to take Seraphine to Florence to keep an eye on her, he ensures her safety and lends her money while they live together as part of a clandestine agreement. After long, painful months of pining for his love, Seraphine abandons her end of the deal, desperate to find freedom and true love. Will she escape the Tomassini heir's tenacious grip and get her own life back? Or will her stubborn feelings for Dominico keep her trapped in his messy, dangerous life? [Crime / Romance]

• This story is Book III of The Heir's Secrets [Mafia Games 1] • Ready to take on the world of medicine, Mykaela is forced to confront the secrets of her past while fearing the possibility of losing her best friend Miles, the heir to a wealthy and secretive Italian vampire clan. To keep Mykaela safe, Miles Falco must choose his future and risk it all with the Falcos or find a one-way ticket out of the perilous mafia life he's always hated. Lorenzio Tomassini is a shrewd, wealthy businessman with ties to the Italian mafia. After a death in their clan, he pursues a quiet life in America as his brother faces prison time for orchestrating heinous crimes in Italy. When a public health crisis hits major cities, Mykaela and Lorenzio struggle with the demands of their careers as the wrath of the Italian and Russian mob lurks in the shadows. Will their families' ongoing turf war tear them apart? Or will their love turn into nothing but a marriage of convenience? × GENRES: Contemporary Romance / Mafia / Vampire × MATURE readers only! ◆ cover design: mxian [DISCLAIMER: The original images on the cover are not mine.]

• BILLIONAIRE / ROMANCE / MAFIA • 18+ ONLY • They say "Home is where the heart is". Eilyn Han, heiress to a billionaire's empire, would beg to differ. Her artistic, free-spirited nature wouldn't let her fall prey to the allure of corporate greed. But she is still a Han. And no matter what, family comes first. Unfortunate news about her brother forces Eilyn back to Manila. When Axell—her mysterious new escort—decides to take over, his choices thrust her into a perilous web of vengeful mobsters and clan secrets. • A bodyguard by profession, Axell seeks new opportunities as he rebuilds his life in Manila after a messy past. To support his family, he cuts a deal with Mr. Han, a billionaire—a deal that threatens Axell's life and could endanger his family in Britain. When Axell meets the billionaire's daughter for the first time, fate tests their strengths and entwines their paths with a group of thugs out for blood. Will Axell keep her safe? Or will his dark secrets lead to their doom?

After moving back to New York to pursue her medical degree, Mykaela navigates her way through a dangerous web of lies and family secrets while contemplating a long-distance relationship with Miles, her best friend. Maximiliano “Miles” Falco, an artist turned corporate drone, wants a quiet life away from his family of big-time criminals planning to reign all of Italy. He wants the best for Mykaela—but that means pushing her away so he can deal with his own demons and envious mobsters awaiting his family's downfall. Enzo Tomassini is a businessman whose family of billionaires has teamed up with the Falcos to dominate organized crime in Europe. On the verge of death, he meets Mykaela who changes his perspective on where his life is headed, burdening him with a moral dilemma that leaves him questioning his family's choices. Will their chosen paths grant the desires of their hearts? • Genres: Contemporary Romance, Billionaire, Crime, LGBTQIA+ • Rating: 18+ • This story is the sequel to The Heir's Secrets [Mafia Games XI] •

After moving to Italy, Mykaela pursues a modeling career with Miles Falco's help and a newfound sense of normalcy. All seems well and routine until unforeseen circumstances ruin the illusion and force her back to New York. Miles Falco, an artist enjoying the Italian countryside, must choose between the simple life he loves and being successor to a clan of influential businessmen contending for power in all of Europe. Can he escape his predetermined fate? A life of deceit, chaos, and deadly encounters with the mafia? ◆ PG-15 ◆ Genres: Mafia, Romance, Crime, Mystery ◆ cover design: mxian

Jessiah is a make-up artist aspiring to break into the modeling and beauty industry. She moves to LA when she lands a job at one of the biggest production companies in Hollywood. On her first week on the job, she meets Jenson Ross, a big-deal actor and director with a dark secret only a privileged few know about. × Genres: Contemporary Romance, Werewolf, Crime, Drama × Rating: PG-15 EXCERPT: EXCERPT from BOOK I _ _ _ "Dollface," he murmured with a little smirk. Now his hand gripped her forearm.  He snickered when she only kept staring, then pulled her closer to hug her. "You're like an antidepressant, in human form." The utter surprise paused her breathing.  She couldn't pull away.  Her heartbeat sped up when he hugged her tighter. His warm face pressed onto the side of her neck, his hand lightly squeezing her hip. His beard scraped her skin, his thighs touched hers, and she felt like he was kissing her neck.  Shit. He was no longer thinking straight.  Perhaps unaware of the consequences of his actions. It was moments like this that worsened her intense attraction to him.   The flirty jokes, the easy conversations, the small smiles, his furtive glances, and his unusually sweet gestures lately just convinced her she was definitely in deep trouble. Amid her loud thoughts, he pulled her closer whenever she pulled away. Her breathing grew shallow while she stared into his eyes. "Dammit," he sighed while he gripped her arms.  Then his thumb traced the curve of her neck and shoulder, his touch both gentle and eager.  "Why are you always so f-cking beautiful?"  "Joss—" "What?" he muttered while stroking her cheek. He wasn't acting drunk or just playing with her.  Otherwise he wouldn't let it get this far. "You want me to stop?" _

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.

I'm a moaning mess as Antonio slams into me from behind. His hips hit me hard, and each deep thrust sends shockwaves through my body. My breasts bounce with every movement, my eyes roll back, and I moan his name without control. The pleasure he gives me is overwhelming-I can't hold it in. I feel my walls tighten around his thick length. The pressure builds fast, and then- I explode around him, my orgasm tearing through me. He groans loud and deep as he releases inside me, his hot seed spilling into me in thick pulses. Just when I think he's done, his grip shifts. He turns me over and lays me flat on the bed. His dark eyes stare into mine for a moment, filled with raw hunger. I glance down- He's still hard. Before I can react, he grabs my wrists, pins me down, and pushes himself inside me again. He fills me completely. My hips rise on instinct, meeting his rhythm. Our bodies move together, locked in a wild, uncontrollable dance. "You're fucking sweet," he groans, his voice rough and breathless. "I can't get enough of you... not after that night, Sol," he growls, slamming into me harder. The force of his words and his thrusts make my body shake. "Come for me," he commands, his voice low and full of heat. And just like that, my body trembles. Waves of pleasure crash over me. I cry out, shaking with the force of my orgasm. "Mine," he growls again, louder this time. His voice is feral, wild, like a beast claiming what belongs to him. The sound sends a shiver down my spine. *** Solene was betrayed, humiliated, and erased by Rowan Brook, the man she once called husband, Solene is left with nothing but her name and a burning hunger for revenge. She turns to the one man powerful enough to destroy the Brooks family from within: Rowan's estranged and dangerous uncle, Antonio Rodriguez. He's ruthless. A playboy who never sleeps with the same woman twice. But when Solene walks into his world, he doesn't just break the rules, he creates new ones just for her. What begins as a calculated game quickly spirals into obsession, power plays, and secrets too deadly to stay buried. Because Solene isn't just anyone's ex... she's the woman they should've never underestimated. Can she survive the price of revenge? Or will her heart become the next casualty? And when the truth comes out, will Antonio still choose her... or destroy her?

I stood outside my husband's study, the perfect mafia wife, only to hear him mocking me as an "ice sculpture" while he entertained his mistress, Aria. But the betrayal went deeper than infidelity. A week later, my saddle snapped mid-jump, leaving me with a shattered leg. Lying in the hospital bed, I overheard the conversation that killed the last of my love. My husband, Alessandro, knew Aria had sabotaged my gear. He knew she could have killed me. Yet, he told his men to let it go. He called my near-death experience a "lesson" because I had bruised his mistress's ego. He humiliated me publicly, freezing my accounts to buy family heirlooms for her. He stood by while she threatened to leak our private tapes to the press. He destroyed my dignity to play the hero for a woman he thought was a helpless orphan. He had no idea she was a fraud. He didn't know I had installed micro-cameras throughout the estate while he was busy pampering her. He didn't know I had hours of footage showing his "innocent" Aria sleeping with his guards, his rivals, and even his staff, laughing about how easy he was to manipulate. At the annual charity gala, in front of the entire crime family, Alessandro demanded I apologize to her. I didn't beg. I didn't cry. I simply connected my drive to the main projector and pressed play.

"Lovely, Cara," he whispers, licking and kissing my clit. I'm twitching, shaking, back arched- He reaches down and picks up the champagne bottle, pouring out the liquid on my body. I gasp at the sudden bubbling cold. I try to wriggle away but he holds me down and sucks the champagne, licking me clean, making these filthy delighted noises as he does it. "I couldn't help myself. You taste too good." - Fed up with her abusive husband, twenty-three-year-old Cara Hellington runs away from home and ends up in a notorious bar, destitute, sad, but relieved and free. When she gets into a verbal altercation with the snotty bartender over the ownership of her credit cards, an unlikely savior comes to her aid. Eros Kazan Alfred. He's tall, massive, rippling with muscles, and covered with dark tattoos. Everything Cara is not used to. Everything Cara is drawn to. She should run towards the opposite direction, away from him. But she runs right onto his bed. After a hot sizzling night together, Cara is comfortable and confident in him taking good care of her. But tensions are rising all around them, as significant figures from their past will stop at nothing to bring them both down. Will they succumb under the wickedly twisted circumstances fate seems to be throwing at them?

I spent a year scrubbing floors in my fiancé’s club, hiding my identity as the daughter of the Capo dei Capi. I needed to know if Connor Bishop was a King worth merging empires with, or just a puppet. The answer came walking in wearing a neon pink dress. Jaden Juarez, a civilian he was infatuated with, didn't just treat me like a servant; she deliberately poured scalding espresso over my hand because I refused to be her valet. The pain was blinding, my skin blistering instantly. I video-called Connor, showing him the burn, expecting him to enforce the code of our world. Instead, seeing his investors watching, he panicked. He chose to sacrifice me to save face. "Get on your knees," he roared through the speaker. "Beg her pardon. Show her the respect she deserves." He wanted the daughter of the most dangerous man on the East Coast to kneel to his mistress. He thought he was showing strength. He didn't realize he was looking at a woman who could burn his entire world to ash with a single phone call. I didn't cry. I didn't beg. I simply hung up the phone and locked the kitchen doors. Then, I dialed the one number everyone in the underworld feared. "Dad," I said, my voice cold as steel. "Code Black. Bring the papers." "And send the wolves."

The day my husband, a Mafia Underboss, told me I was genetically unfit to carry his heir, he brought home my replacement—a surrogate with my eyes and a working womb. He called her a "vessel" but paraded her as his mistress, abandoning me while I bled on the floor at a party to protect her and planning their secret future in the villa he once promised me. But in our world, wives don't just walk away—they disappear, and I decided to orchestrate my own vanishing act, leaving him to the ruin he so carefully built for himself.

The combination to my husband's private safe was the date of his mistress's birth. Inside, arranged beside his gun and stacks of cash, I found a legal document that shattered my world. Clause 4: Upon the birth of the heir, my architecture firm is absorbed into the Moretti Trust. Clause 5: Primary guardianship is transferred to the father and his proxy, Kaleigh. Kaleigh is my step-sister. She is also the woman currently warming my husband's bed. When I confronted Jacob, the Don of the city, he didn't offer a shadow of shame. He simply gripped my chin, his eyes cold as ice, and whispered, "There is no divorce in this life. You leave in a coffin." My lawyer betrayed me. The police were on his payroll. I was trapped in a gilded cage, waiting to be discarded. Then came the final blow—an intercepted audio recording. "The moment the head crowns, she is done," Jacob's voice said on the tape. "If she fights, she dies on the table." They didn't just want my baby. They wanted to erase me completely. I realized I couldn't win in court, and I couldn't win in a street fight. To escape a man who owned the city, I had to cease to exist. I drove my car to a desolate ravine and doused the leather seats in gasoline. I took off my wedding ring, placed it on the dashboard, and lit a match. I wasn't going to kill my son. I was going to burn the world down for him.

For three years, I kept a secret ledger of my husband's sins. A point system to decide exactly when I would leave Blake Santos, the ruthless Underboss of Chicago. I thought the final straw would be him forgetting our anniversary dinner to comfort his "childhood friend," Ariana. I was wrong. The real breaking point came when the restaurant ceiling collapsed. In that split second, Blake didn't look at me. He dove to his right, shielding Ariana with his body, leaving me to be crushed under a half-ton crystal chandelier. I woke up in a sterile hospital room with a shattered leg and a hollow womb. The doctor, trembling and pale, told me my eight-week-old fetus hadn't survived the trauma and blood loss. "We tried to get the O-negative reserves," he stammered, refusing to meet my eyes. "But Dr. Santos ordered us to hold them. He said Miss Whitfield might go into shock from her injuries." "What injuries?" I whispered. "A laceration on her finger," the doctor admitted. "And anxiety." He let our unborn child die to save the blood reserves for his mistress’s paper cut. Blake finally walked into my room hours later, smelling of Ariana’s perfume, expecting me to be the dutiful, silent wife who understood his "duty." Instead, I picked up my pen and wrote the final entry in my black leather book. *Minus five points. He killed our child.* *Total Score: Zero.* I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I just signed the divorce papers, called my extraction team, and vanished into the rain before he could turn around.

When I was eight, Dante Moretti pulled me from the fire that killed my family. For ten years, the powerful crime boss was my protector and my god. Then, he announced his engagement to another woman to unite two criminal empires. He brought her home and named her the future mistress of the Moretti family. In front of everyone, his fiancée forced a cheap metal collar around my neck, calling me their pet. Dante knew I was allergic. He just watched, his eyes cold, and ordered me to take it. That night, I listened through the walls as he took her to his bed. I finally understood the promise he’d made me as a child was a lie. I wasn't his family. I was his property. After a decade of devotion, my love for him finally turned to ash. So on his birthday, the day he celebrated his new future, I walked out of his gilded cage for good. A private jet was waiting to take me to my real father—his greatest enemy.

Ten years ago, I saved the life of New York’s most dangerous mob boss with a sewing kit. I gave Ethan Reed my youth, my loyalty, and my heart. But the moment his ex-girlfriend Chloe returned, I became disposable. It didn't matter that she had abandoned him. It didn't matter that she poisoned me, killing the unborn child Ethan didn't even know we had. When Chloe needed a kidney transplant due to her drug abuse, Ethan didn't protect me. He strapped me to a gurney. "It's just one kidney, Ava. You owe me." He harvested my organ to save the woman who murdered his heir. And when he was done, he decided I was a loose end. He dragged me to the edge of a bridge in the pouring rain. "This is how it ends," he said, his eyes devoid of love. "A tragic suicide." He pushed me into the freezing water, watching me drown to secure his happy ending. He thought I was dead. He thought the canary had sung its last song. But he forgot one thing. I was the chemist who built his empire. When his greatest rival pulled me out of the river, I didn't pray for salvation. I prayed for revenge. Three months later, I walked into his charity gala on the arm of his enemy, wearing a white suit and a smile sharp enough to cut glass. Ethan dropped to his knees when he saw me. But I wasn't there to forgive him. I was there to burn his house down.