Sali Andiamo Siyaya

In the city of New Haven, fashion designer Sylvania Scarlet is about to marry Russell Thompson, a rich businessman. But just as she says her vows at the fancy Avanti Hotel, masked gunmen storm in. They don't just steal her wedding ring; they take jewelry, money, and other valuables. But one thing stands out... her ring was meant for someone called "The Don." Shocked and confused, Sylvania becomes obsessed with finding out who The Don is. As she searches for answers, her marriage starts falling apart. Russell, once loving, becomes controlling and violent, forcing her to run away and start over. Wanting to rebuild her life, Sylvania starts her own fashion business, Scarlet Fashions, and quickly becomes famous. But she doesn't know that long before the wedding, she had already caught the eye of a powerful man. Zagaff Manscent, a feared Mafia boss, has been at war with his rival, Victor Morano. When Zagaff first saw Sylvania in a newspaper, he was drawn to her beauty and talent. He wanted her, but he knew the risks. Victor would do anything to hurt him, even going after someone he loved. To protect Sylvania, Zagaff pushed his feelings aside and stayed away. But after the wedding robbery, Zagaff is furious, convinced that Victor is behind it, making their war even worse. What he doesn't know is that fate is already pulling Sylvania into his dangerous world. One night at Divas Deluxe, Sylvania meets The Don; the man she has been searching for. She is drawn to him, unaware of the deadly battle surrounding him. As they grow closer, Sylvania finds herself caught between Russell, who refuses to let her go, and Zagaff, who doesn't yet know the secrets she carries. Then, she finds out she's pregnant. With danger all around and the fight between Zagaff and Victor Morano getting worse, Sylvania must make a choice among Love, Power, or Revenge. Will she survive this dangerous game... or become its next victim?

In the city of Willowbrook, powerful Mafia families fight to rule, but only one leader can hold the top spot. After the death of Arthur "The Don" Morreti in a tragic plane crash, the families gather in a grand mansion to select his successor. Most expect Marco Rossi, the powerful and calculating leader, to take charge. But instead, the role goes to Rhomana Ivannovick, who receives a round of applause; even though a few, like Marco, hide their disappointment. Rhomana wants to protect his family's legacy, especially his only daughter, Camilla, who he hopes will one day take his place. For now, she's being taught and trained at home, but her mother, Alexis, believes that isn't enough. Alexis insists Camilla should go to the Nosa Costra Academy, a place where she can learn much more than she could at home. Rhomana disagrees, worried Camilla isn't ready, but eventually, he lets her go, sending her with her cousin, Seraphine, for support. At Nosa Costra, Camilla meets Cassandra Bianchi, a smart and helpful friend. With Cassandra's help, Camilla faces the dangers of the Academy, where trust and betrayal are always close by. When Rhomana's life is in danger, Camilla, Cassandra, and Seraphine find themselves pulled into a deadly game where everything is at risk; and Camilla realizes she's the only one who can save her father.

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.

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.

Three days after my fiancé publicly dumped me for my stepsister, the Supreme Don issued a command that silenced the entire estate. I wasn't being cast aside. I was being sold to Damien Russo. The "Broken Don." A crippled, scarred monster rumored to have murdered his last two wives. My adoptive mother, Elena, didn't cry for me. She smirked. To her, I was finally being disposed of. She was so confident I was walking to my death that she decided to loot my corpse before I even left. She forged documents to steal my entire inheritance—my biological mother’s trust fund—to pay for my stepsister’s lavish wedding to my ex. "She won't need money where she's going," my stepsister laughed, wearing a dress bought with my stolen funds. They thought they were sending a lamb to the slaughter. They thought I was too weak, too stupid, and too afraid of the monster to fight back. But they made a fatal mistake. With my aunt’s help, I didn't just find the proof of their embezzlement; I found a weapon. I’m not running from the monster. I’m going to marry him. And when I hand him the evidence that the Herrera family stole from his bride, he won't be my executioner. He will be my vengeance.

I stood before the altar of the grand gothic cathedral, about to marry Julian Moretti, the grieving adopted son stepping up for the comatose Don. To the hundreds of mafia men behind us, it was a dutiful wedding. But I knew the horrifying truth. Julian and his pregnant mistress, Clara, had orchestrated a brutal plot to steal my dowry and secure his place as the next Don. In my past life, I was completely blind to their betrayal. Julian trapped me in our apartment and set it ablaze. I could still feel the blistering heat of the fire. I could still hear my mother’s agonizing screams and my little brother Antonio’s desperate coughing as the smoke filled our lungs. My entire family was burned alive just so Julian could swap the brides and put his whore in my place. I died in pure agony, filled with hatred and despair, wondering why I had trusted a monster. God hadn't saved me from those flames. The Devil had. And he sent me back to this exact moment at the altar. "Do you, Isabella Rossi, take Julian Moretti to be your lawfully wedded husband?" the priest asked. Julian reached for my hand with a sickeningly gentle smile. I didn't give it to him. I tore back my lace veil and turned to face the crowd. "You are mistaken, Father," I said, my voice like ice. "The man I am bound to marry is your Don. Damien Moretti."

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.

For seven years, I was his eyes. But the moment he regained his sight, he decided to marry someone else. Seven years of devotion couldn't buy his heart. I gave him back his dignity. Now that he was restored as the Godfather of the New York Mafia, he laughed with others, degrading me to the status of a mere "mistress." He thought I didn't understand Italian, but I heard him loud and clear: he was going to marry his first love. He arrogantly believed I would always love him, willing to stay in his penthouse like a caged bird. But he was wrong. I boarded a one-way flight to Australia. Dante, I don't want you anymore. By the time he returned home, he would have lost me forever. But a sore loser refuses to concede. Even if he had to burn the world to the ground, he would search for me and beg for my forgiveness.

"Happy Anniversary," my husband said, sliding the separation agreement across the mahogany desk. It was the eighteenth time in five years I had signed these papers. Matteo De Luca, the most ruthless Capo in New York, checked his Rolex with cold impatience. "Sign it, Sera. Bianca is on the ledge again. She needs to see we're over, or she jumps." Bianca. The ward. The broken bird. The woman whose fragile psyche dictated every moment of my marriage. I signed my name, and he left me alone on our anniversary to save her. Again. But saving her wasn't enough. When Bianca pushed me down a flight of marble stairs in a fit of jealous rage, shattering my spine and leaving me paralyzed, I thought Matteo would finally choose me. I was wrong. I woke up in the hospital to find him holding her hand, not mine. "The security footage has been wiped," he told me, his voice void of emotion. "We cannot have a scandal. You fell, Sera. That is the story." He erased the truth. He erased my pain. He protected the woman who crippled me over his own wife. Two months later, he wheeled me into a gala, playing the doting husband while I sat in the chair that was my prison. He didn't know I had a burner phone hidden in my velvet dress. He didn't know that tonight, the obedient wife was going to die on the pavement, and a ghost would rise in her place. I looked at him one last time and dropped the phone in his lap. "I hope she's worth it."

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.

At my boyfriend's poorest moment, I suddenly broke up with him. Later, he became a Don in the Mafia and married me by any means necessary. Everyone said he loved me to the bone. But every night, he brought different women home, deliberately trying to provoke me. I asked no questions, shed no tears, and never disturbed his trysts with his mistresses. He went crazy with rage instead, kissing me fiercely and demanding, "Why aren't you jealous?" He didn't know I was sick. Dying. While he was furiously taking his revenge on me, I was slowly walking toward death.

In my past life, my fiancé Grayson Falcone locked me in an abandoned warehouse to die of a fever while he paraded his mistress around the city. I opened my eyes and was reborn right on the night of the Plaza Hotel gala. Just like before, Grayson swam right past me in the freezing fountain, pulling his dripping mistress into his arms in front of New York's elite mafia families. He publicly shattered our honor, leaving me to face absolute social death. But this time, Damon Falcone—Grayson's uncle and the most feared Don in the city—stepped out of the shadows, wrapped me in his coat, and carried me away. To safely destroy the betrothal, I decided to become Grayson's worst nightmare. I played the suffocatingly devoted fiancée, even "accidentally" feeding him his lethal allergen. But my plan completely backfired. Instead of breaking the engagement, Grayson developed a sick, morbid fascination with my lethal intentions. Even worse, Damon cornered me in his private shooting range, his eyes burning with a terrifying, dark obsession as he pinned me against his chest. I didn't understand why my calculated revenge was spiraling so dangerously out of control. Thanks to the vicious rumors about Damon carrying me away, the furious family matriarch slammed her hand on the table to protect the family's honor. "The rumors end now. Grayson and Isabella will marry next month."