emmaheath031015

This is a three-novel set of the Moretti Famiglia. 1. Fire Me! 2. Blackwood Inc 3.The Black Sheep

This is series 2 of 3 series if includes: Jaded Love,The Nerds Obssession, Her Dom, His Dominatrix, XL (Xtra Large) and Reece Jaded Love Jacob has finally arrived home after five years of pure hell from his husband Cerian Mitchell. He's torn both physically end emotionally. He never would've got involved with the most feared Irish mafia Don if it wasn't in the name of work. Now he's left his old life behind his work with the FBI, Married life with the devil and starting a new with his best friend Scarlet. Now working for Dominic and Benji he feels ten times later, yet he still has so far to go after his time with Cerian Mitchell not only does he have to build his body back up but his mind and spirit too. The nightmares are driving him insane can he ever be who he once was the Jacob everyone knew growing up? Rory Townsend. A multi-billionaire who owns his own franchise. Who indulges in kink extremely into BDSM. Wants to show Jacob that not all BDSM is pain and torture, but pleasure too. He's been head over heels for Jacob since their encounter six years ago and has been searching for him ever since. Now he's in Australia and so is Jacob he wants Jacob, but Jacob is hesitant to get into another relationship with another guy after Cerian and the constant nightmares he's been getting ever since he's been in Australia. Rory is the most patient guy he can be around hopefully he can break down Jacobs walls so he will trust him and fall in love with him, as he loves him?

This is a mafia dark romance book. There are four novels altogether. Debt To The Mafia Married To The Mafia On The Run From The Mafia

Justin and Mackenzie stood outside the house, they looked at each other, as Mackenzie poured the petrol both around the house and inside. Sandman lit the match and dropped it to the ground . The flames blazing high a red and Orange colour, the fire made its way around the house with their parents inside, it flamed the inside of the house engulfing the entire house as the screams could be heard from the outside as they stood watching the house burn in a loud bang. kaboom! The house went up in flames. Their eyes illuminating in the burning air, flames reflecting in the coldness their evil eyes. ‘Come on let’s get out of here.’ they both turned walking away as the fire continued to illuminate the night sky. The sound of the fire engines passed them. ‘This is a new beginning bro.’ They turned the corner into the darkness.

Five years to the day when Mark was taken by the police, Joe returns To free him from. The prison he’s been living in with one mission alone to get her souls for the devil twisting a few arms along the way to get another set of students to join an archeological dig on Ghostly Hill, but who will live to tell the tale?

Lowerstoft High year eleven history group that get invited on an archaeological dig with ten archaeologists from L.A. to discover a five mile radios site of Ghostly Hill. Joe and his friends are filled with excitement about the trio to Ghostly Hill. Joe is a very enthusiastic sixteen year old dark haired dark eyed boy who enjoys anything to do with old skeletons and finding out where they originated and how far back they date, his best friend Mark who also is interested in digging up everything to find hidden mysteries, the friends decide to pair on this epic journey. The first few days of the archaeological dig are slow, until they come upon an abandoned police station where they later return after dark to do a little excavation of their own finding a tattered sheepskin book with a eye on the front and vampire teeth for a clasp. The friend’s take it back to Joe's tent to discover what it hides with deep consequences.

A light lit up the bottom of the grave yard she’d finally reached what she’d been following. A single coffin stood underneath it. Louise walked cautiously over to it. She stood over the coffin, why was it there standing on its own with no other coffin besides it? She struggled, pushing off the lid. A corpse laid there she curiously lowered her hand into the open coffin the frail bony hand grabbed hers. She looked at the corpse screaming silently. Its eyes as dark as death itself. She stared at the corpse as it pulled with him as she struggled to break free from its grip.

Zeke is struggling though his high school years form being bullied by his peers for having two fathers the only friends he has are his brother Nathaniel and his cousin Hunt. But they can’t always be there for him he is struggling with his sexuality and the bullying form his peers that sends him into destructive mode with pure resentment in his mind cause by his bullies something is about to snap within him.

Jordan Carter is Caleb and Avery’s eldest child now sixteen and heading to college he vows to seek revenge on those who have bullied and belittled his little sister Tegan. She begs him not to do anything rash but Jordan being Jordan he takes it to the next level and ends up being part of the underground fighting chain to get his revenge. He meets Riley at college against all odds he finds out that her brother is the one who has been bullying his younger sister now he has his revenge plan all set he puts it into action but will he succeed on taking in Jonah Connors down?

He ruined my life He told me he loved me He told me he would wait for me He cheated on me. That’s what you get for believing the bad boy That’s what you get for knowing Ashton Barraman Courtney Mendez was always a A + student until she decided to show the whole world who she really was, this caused a lot of people to look at her differently. But for one person she made mad and wanted nothing more to make her suffer her brothers’ best friend; Ashton”Asher” Barraman. True to his word he did just that, he made sure she got expelled for something she didn’t do. One year have passed and Courtney is back and ready for anything he throws at her cause she knows she has friends and a loyal boyfriend Bentley Jovanni, but is this guy all he seems? will Asher unmask the guy she beleived all this time to be on her side. This isn’t a typical love story cliche this is about two teenagers fighting for their right to be who they truly are join the journey of Courtney and Ashton’s life. You’ll be pleasantly surprised.

This is five novel book which includes: My bad boy brother Avery Jordan Carter Family ties (the bad boys house 1 & 2) Family Ties Pt 2 (Zeke and Hunt, Anakin and Zack, Jacob and Jade)

Hope and her mother move in with the Kinglsey's after her mother's divorce. She hopes that in time her new family will accept her. She is quiet and timid all the qualities that Joshua hates he takes an instant disliking to her and makes a plan to make her life hell. Caleb is his best friend, once he sees Hope he is infatuated with her and plans on spending more time with her than his best friend which makes Joshua hate her even more , can Caleb save her from her stepbrother's anger?

Autumn is no ordinary fifteen year old girl she has secrets so deep she is afraid to share them with anyone can Mathew Harding a university graduate in physiology over come her fears and talk about hers secrets to come out of the dark. The hard headed red haired goth girl stirs the male popularity in new school including Connor Harborne and Daniel Harrison who come very attached to her and past but they are hiding a deep dark secret of their own. Will all be revealed y the end of year eleven or will their be still secrets held tightly to these three friends.

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 was the "Caged Canary" of the underworld, a biological asset designed to merge two crime families. My fiancé, Bryant Barnes, didn't love me. He loved the power I brought, and he loved his mistress, Kalia. The night Kalia broke into my penthouse and stomped on my hand, crushing the bones and my fashion career, Bryant didn't help me. He told the police she was my guest and warned me not to embarrass him with a cast. That was just the beginning. When Kalia lied about feeling unsafe, Bryant dangled me off a balcony. When she faked a kidnapping, he locked me in an industrial freezer for six hours until I turned blue. And when I fell into the marina, he swam right past me to save her, leaving me to drown in the freezing water. He destroyed my body and my dignity for a woman who was stealing my designs and faking a pregnancy. He thought I was just a broken obligation he could discard. But he made a fatal mistake. He didn't make sure I was dead. I dragged myself out of the water and made a call to his greatest rival. On the night of our grand merger, I walked onto the stage wearing royal blue instead of white. I rolled up my sleeve to reveal the scars he gave me, looked him dead in the eye, and grabbed the microphone. "I hereby terminate my engagement to Bryant Barnes. And I am proud to announce my betrothal to the true King of this city."

One casual visit to her father's study; an unplanned collision with the malevolent Russian Bratva mafia boss plunged her life into a downward spiral. Forced to marry him for an alliance that bordered on keeping her family's business stronger, she had no choice but to accept her fate after an unsuccessful attempt at absconding right before the wedding. But with each new discovery about him, she realized that the masked husband she despised so much had several layers that tugged at her heartstrings, giving her no choice but to fall deeply for him. However, what happens when the dreary and dark secrets from his past resurfaces and threatens to disrupt not just their blooming relationship and his position as Capo, but their existence as well?

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 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.

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.

For seven years, I served as the eyes for Dante Vitiello, the blind Capo of New York. I pulled him back from the edge of madness, tending to his wounds and warming his bed when everyone else had given up on him. But the moment his vision returned, the years of devotion turned to ash. In a single phone call, he decided to marry Sofia Moretti for territory, dismissing me as just "the maid's daughter" and a "comfort" he intended to keep as a mistress. He forced me to watch him court her. At a gala, when a chaotic accident caused a tower of champagne glasses to shatter, Dante threw his body over Sofia to protect her. He left me standing there, bleeding from the glass shards, while he carried her away like she was porcelain. He didn't even look back at the woman who had saved his life. I realized then that I had worshipped a broken god. I had given him my dignity, only for him to treat me like a disposable bandage now that he was whole. He arrogantly believed I would stay in the penthouse, grateful for his scraps. So, while he was out celebrating his engagement, I met with his mother. I signed the severance agreement for fifty million dollars. I packed my bags, wiped my phone, and boarded a one-way flight to Australia. By the time Dante came home to an empty bed, realized his mistake, and began tearing the city apart to find me, I was already a ghost.

I stood alone at the center of my art gallery opening, clutching a glass of warm champagne, while the guests whispered behind their hands. My husband, the Capo of the Chicago Outfit, wasn't there. A breaking news alert on my phone explained why. It was a high-definition photo of Dante shielding his mistress, Isabella, from the rain. He was touching her with a protective possessiveness he had never once shown me. Then came his text: "Isabella needed me. Go home." That was the moment the cage door unlocked. I didn't go home to cry. I went to his office the next morning with a stack of papers disguised as "gallery insurance forms." While Isabella sat on his desk, mocking me for being a boring housewife, Dante was too annoyed to read the fine print. He just wanted me gone so he could get back to her. He signed the divorce decree. He signed the asset dissolution. Most importantly, without looking, he signed the irrevocable relinquishment of parental rights. I walked out with my freedom, but fate had a cruel sense of humor. That night, I stared at a positive pregnancy test. I was carrying the Sovrano heir he had always demanded. And he had just legally signed away his right to ever know his child. I fled to the Swiss Alps, vanishing into the snow to raise my baby away from his world of blood and bullets. I thought I was safe, until six months later. Dante hadn't just sent men to look for me. He had burned his own shipping empire to the ground, destroying his status as King, just to prove he would trade it all for the wife he threw away.

"Fifty strikes," Floyd ordered, his voice devoid of warmth. I knelt in the freezing snow, watching the man I had taken a bullet for five years ago stand beside his new fiancée, Jaylah. Because Jaylah tore her engagement dress and blamed me, Floyd let his men beat me until my face was unrecognizable. But that was just the beginning of my hell. To save his alliance with Jaylah's family, he drained my blood to save her mother, ignoring my own fading pulse. When Jaylah lied that I tried to burn her, Floyd forced me to thrust my hands—my architect's hands—into glowing coals until the flesh melted. He stripped me of my name, my protection, and finally, my life. "You are a liability," he said, pushing me into the freezing pool with a skimmer pole. He watched me drown with the same detached interest he used to inspect firearms. My lungs burned, and my heart turned to ice. I died hating him more than I ever loved him. I thought it was the end. But then, I gasped. Air rushed into my lungs. I wasn't in the water. I was sitting at a drafting table, five years before the nightmare began. My hands were smooth. No scars. No burns. And when Floyd Meyers approached me on the quad, smiling like the boy I used to love, I didn't smile back. I ran.

I was the Chicago Outfit's princess, and Luca and Matteo were my sworn protectors. We had mixed our blood at ten years old, promising that nothing would ever touch me. But that oath turned to ash the night Sofia Ricci aimed a Roman candle at my chest. The firework slammed into my shoulder, igniting my silk dress instantly. As I rolled on the concrete, screaming while the flames ate into my skin, I waited for my boys to save me. They didn't. Instead, I watched through the smoke as they rushed to Sofia. They wrapped their jackets—the ones meant to shield me—around the girl who had just set me on fire, comforting her because the "kickback" had scared her. They let me burn to keep her warm. When I woke up in the hospital with permanent scars, they brought me a letter of apology from her and defended her "accident." They even cut their palms to pay her debt, ignoring the fact that I was the one in bandages. That was the moment Elena Vitiello died. I didn't scream. I didn't beg. I simply packed my bags and defected to the one place they couldn't follow: the arms of Dante Moretti, the lethal Capo of New York. By the time they realized their mistake and came crawling back to beg in the rain, I was already wearing another man's ring. "You want forgiveness?" I asked, looking down at them. "Burn for it."