The Bodyguard Who Stole the Mafia Bride

Three hours ago, I was the revered Bianchi princess, standing at the altar in a million-dollar gown to seal New York's most powerful Mafia alliance. Instead, my fiancé Julian Falcone didn't show up, publicly slaughtering our sacred pact for a rising actress and turning me into the laughingstock of the underworld. In a drunken haze of humiliation, I used my silent, lethal bodyguard, Damien Moretti, to numb my pain. But the next morning, he didn't just walk away. He showed me a video of my willing surrender and cornered me. "Marry me. Become Mrs. Moretti." My own father froze my accounts, demanding I get on my knees to beg the cheating Falcone heir for forgiveness, or face a fifty-million-dollar penalty. I was stripped of my assets, betrayed by the man I loved for a decade, and sold out by my own blood. I had no choice but to agree to Damien's marriage of convenience to survive. But what terrified me most was my new husband himself. A mere bodyguard shouldn't carry an invitation-only Centurion black card. A mere bodyguard shouldn't be able to terrify a Mafia heir with a single, murderous look. Who on earth was Damien Moretti? With no money and my back against the wall, I was forced to join a reality show alongside my cheating ex and his mistress. They thought they could continue to humiliate the discarded bride on live television. But they didn't know I was walking into this warzone with a monster at my back.

Chapters

Chapter 5

Isabella POV

The adrenaline from stealing Damien's G-Wagon carried me straight to Elysium, the only neutral ground left in New York. The VIP lounge was dimly lit, smelling of expensive cigars, aged bourbon, and secrets.

I paced the Persian rug, spilling the chaotic nightmare of the past twenty-four hours to my best friend, Brianna Hayes.

"You kneed him?" Brianna asked, her eyes wide as she handed me a glass of neat bourbon. "Bella, he's a Falcone Soldier. Are you insane?"

Before I could answer, the heavy mahogany doors swung open. Chloe Abbott stood there, looking sickeningly fragile in a plain white sundress.

Brianna stepped forward, her voice like ice. "Who let you in?"

Chloe ignored her. She walked straight toward me and dropped to her knees on the expensive rug. "Isabella, I had to come," she whimpered, her eyes wide and brimming with tears. "Julian didn't want me to leave the hospital, but I had to apologize. We never meant to hurt you. He just... he cares about me so much, and we couldn't fight our feelings."

It was a masterclass in manipulation. An apology wrapped in a gloating smirk, designed to twist the knife deeper.

"Get off my floor, you pathetic snake," I sneered, looking down at her. "I hope you and Julian choke on your perfect love."

"Isabella!"

The furious roar echoed through the lounge. Julian Falcone stormed in, his eyes blazing. He took in the scene instantly-his fragile mistress trembling on the floor, and me standing over her like a tyrant.

"Are you completely out of your mind?" he snapped, rushing to pull Chloe up into his arms. "She came here to apologize, and you treat her like trash? You are acting like a spoiled brat!"

The sheer injustice of it-the man who had humiliated me, defending the woman he cheated with-snapped the last thread of my restraint. I hurled my crystal bourbon glass at the wall behind them.

It shattered with a violent crash, amber liquid and glass raining down. Chloe let out a theatrical shriek and collapsed into Julian's chest, perfectly fainting.

Julian scooped her up, his jaw tight. He looked at me, his eyes filled with absolute disgust. "You're bitter and cruel, Bella. We're done."

He carried her out without looking back. As the heavy doors clicked shut, the ten years I had spent loving him simply evaporated. There was no heartbreak left. Only a freezing, absolute void.

It was past ten when I finally unlocked the door to my penthouse overlooking Central Park. The apartment was pitch black, the only light coming from the silver moonlight spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

I kicked off my heels, the silence wrapping around my exhausted body. I thought I had won a night of peace. I thought I was safe in my own sanctuary.

Then, a red ember flared in the darkest corner of the living room.

The sharp scent of dark tobacco and an aggressive, masculine musk hit my senses a second before a deep, gravelly voice shattered the silence.

"Did you enjoy your little joyride, moglie mia(my wife)?"

Damien Moretti stepped out of the shadows, swallowing the moonlight. He wore only dark dress pants. His bare, heavily muscled chest was a canvas of lethal scars, gleaming in the dim light. He looked like an apex predator who had patiently waited for the prey to lock itself inside his cage.

I froze, my pulse roaring in my ears. "How did you get in here?" I demanded, my voice trembling despite my best efforts.

Damien slowly crushed his cigarette into a crystal tray. He closed the distance between us with slow, deliberate steps, his dark eyes pinning me in place with an authority that felt far too heavy for a mere subordinate.

"Tonight, principessa(princess), is our wedding night."

Continue to next part

I found out my husband of three years had cheated on me and his mistress is the one who told me-because he didn't have the balls to do it himself. I move out and get a new apartment, a job as a bartender, and try to move on with a broken heart. I wonder where it all went wrong, if I hadn't been enough for him, if I'd been stupid for marrying him in the first place. I'm at work one night when he walks inside-the most beautiful man I've ever seen. He sits at the bar and a forest fire burns between us. I was depressed the moment before he entered, but the second I look at his blue eyes, I forget the dumpster fire that my life has become. I invite him back to my place and it's the most passionate night of my life. I expect to never see him again. I just want him as an anti-depressant-but he wants me all to himself. I just got my heart ripped out of my chest so I want something easy and no-strings-attached, but he wants all the strings because he's hooked. I don't get much of a say in the matter, and that's not surprising when I learn why-because he's the Butcher. The crime lord of all crime lords, the boss that overshadows all of Paris, that makes everyone abide by his rules-or pay. And now I'm his.

Billionaire Mafia Modern

7.1

Betrayed By Love, Erased From Memory

7.1

I was the Architect who built the digital fortress for the most feared Don in New York. To the world, I was Brendan Wiggins’s silent, elegant Queen. But then my burner phone buzzed under the dinner table. It was a photo from his mistress: a positive pregnancy test. "Your husband is celebrating right now," the caption read. "You are just the furniture." I looked across the table at Brendan. He smiled and held my hand, lying to my face without blinking. He thought he owned me because he saved my life ten years ago. He told her I was just "functional." That I was a barren asset he kept around to look respectable, while she carried his legacy. He thought I would accept the disrespect because I had nowhere else to go. He was wrong. I didn't want to divorce him—you don't divorce a Don. And I didn't want to kill him. That was too easy. I wanted to erase him. I liquidated fifty million dollars from the offshore accounts only I could access. I destroyed the servers I had built. Then, I contacted a black-market chemist for a procedure called "Tabula Rasa." It doesn't kill the body. It wipes the mind clean. A total hard reset of the soul. On his birthday, while he was out celebrating his bastard son, I drank the vial. When he finally came home to find the empty house and the melted wedding ring, he realized the truth. He could burn the world down looking for me, but he would never find his wife. Because the woman who loved him no longer existed.

Mafia Modern Romance

7.0

Betrayed By The Don: Her Ultimate Escape

7.0

On our anniversary, I was basting the roast when my husband’s encrypted laptop lit up on the kitchen counter. Alex Bradley, the ruthless Underboss of New York, never made mistakes. But tonight, he left a chat room open. The notification shattered my world: "Is the idiot eating the dog food yet?" It was from his mistress, Charlotte. They were betting on whether I would eat the red velvet cake she had spiked with her Rottweiler’s excrement. I realized then that my marriage was a long-con. I was just a "placeholder" wife to secure his promotion to Don. To survive, I had to play the part. Alex sat on the bed, feeding me the tainted cake with a loving smile. "Eat up, Jillian," he purred. "It’s to die for." I swallowed every bite of the filth, forcing myself not to vomit until he left the room. The humiliation didn't stop there. I found out our marriage license was void. He publicly bought me a twenty-million-dollar necklace at a gala, then abandoned me to face the debt, forcing me to hand over my grandmother’s earrings as collateral. He even watched calmly as his family beat me for a prank Charlotte orchestrated. But the final blow came when I overheard him planning our "romantic" getaway. "The blizzard hits Friday," he told Charlotte. "It’ll look like a tragic accident. Hypothermia." He thought he was taking a lamb to the slaughter. He didn’t know I had been counting down the days. When we arrived at the cabin and he went to prepare my "accident," I didn't cry. I tossed one of my boots over the cliff edge to stage my death. Then I climbed into the black extraction van waiting in the snow. Alex Bradley thought he had killed his wife. He had no idea he had just set her free.

Mafia Modern Romance

9.2

Fated to be yours

9.2

"Some loves don't die... they just wait," Ella whispers to Nathan the night their connection begins at the music festival. Words that echo long after fate tears them apart without explanation. Decades later, Clara, a searching artist, finds an old box of letters signed E & N, captivated by the unfinished love story, she shows them to Eli, a quiet painter who feels an inexplicable pull toward the names. As Clara and Eli grow close, uncanny coincidences begin to unfold: mirrored moments, phrases spoken, and dreams that feel like memories. The love of Nathan and Ella still threads path this young generation, not just an emotion but a natural mystery,it was reincarnated and cosmic Just when they begin to believe the letters might reveal how Ella and Nathan were separated, Clara finds one final envelope sealed tightly, addressed only with "To the ones who will finish what we couldn't." But before she can open it, Eli disappears from her life without warning-just as Nathan once vanished from Ella's. And the story ends with Clara holding the unopened letter, whispering: "Did I lose him... or is this where the truth finally begins?"

Mafia Mystery Romance

9.6

Loyalty And Ashes

9.6

In the shadow of a ruthless criminal empire, Elara finds herself ensnared in a web of betrayal and forbidden passion. After her father’s sudden disappearance, she is forced into a strategic alliance with Silas, the cold-blooded heir to a rival family. As they navigate a world of lethal secrets, their mutual distrust transforms into a dangerous attraction. With enemies closing in, Elara must decide if love is a weakness or her only way to survive the fire.

Mafia Modern Romance

8.7

One Night's Mistake With My Stepbrother

8.7

WARNING: HIGH SEXUAL CONTENT!! I got dumped by my fiancé then decided to do something out of the ordinary-Spending night stands with a total stranger! Only, the man I had a passionate one-night stand with turned out to be my stepbrother... and the mafia boss.

Mafia Modern Romance

The Bodyguard Who Stole the Mafia Bride

Chapter 5

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