Natasha L. Black – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Natasha L. Black – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Thu, 10 Sep 2026 18:27:58 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.1.2 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Natasha L. Black – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 My Ex’s Dad – Sinful Mafia Daddies Read Online Natasha L. Black http://www.ilovenovels.com/my-exs-dad-sinful-mafia-daddies-read-online-natasha-l-black Thu, 10 Sep 2026 18:27:58 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/my-exs-dad-sinful-mafia-daddies-read-online-natasha-l-black Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love, Mafia Authors: Natasha L. Black Advertisement

Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >62

My ex cheated on me with my best friend.
His father made me forget they both exist.
I went to collect my things and leave the past behind.
Instead, I crashed my car in a snowstorm
and ended up snowed in with a man
who made me feel more in one night
than my ex did in two years.
Then I learned his name.
Anton Sokolov.
My ex’s father.
Bratva boss. Twice my age.
And not the kind of man you walk away from.
One snowed-in night changed everything.
Two pink lines made it permanent.
Now my ex wants me back.
And he’s sending men to make sure of it.
And Anton?
He doesn’t ask if I’m staying.
He decides.
Because Anton Sokolov protects what’s his.
And he’s decided I belong to him now

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

LILIANA

Acorner of a jolly snowman decal peels away from the window as I slump onto the subway seat across the aisle. Flopped over like that, his top hat hangs down and the happy smile he usually sports is inverted into a frown. Probably just like the one I can’t wipe off my face as I exhale another long breath.

The subway fills, and I zone out on the festive décor some kid probably stuck on the dirty window a couple of weeks ago. It’s hard to believe the holidays came and went already. It’s even harder to accept that the usual seasonal uptick in business didn’t bring any boon or extra money for my parents’ bakery.

What am I going to do?

The subway takes off with a lurch, jerking me forward. The older woman beside me sways into me, then catches herself on a pole. The young dude standing in front of us takes advantage of the momentum, tipping toward me.

Yeah, like I want some stranger’s dick shoved in my face right now.

I roll my eyes.

“Hmmm, someone smells good,” he says, with just enough of a purr to make me want to roll my eyes again. Sleazy. That come-to-papa voice that always annoys the hell out of me.

I lift my gaze to skewer him with what I hope is an expression that might encourage him to give up.

“Oh, leave her be,” the older woman chides. “She’s taken.”

I turn toward her, raising a brow.

“Well, she’s too pretty to be single.” She smiles at me, like she’s an expert. “And even if she’s not, she’s clearly not inviting you to flirt with her.” She huffs at him, like that’s final.

“Can’t blame a man for trying.” He winks at me, and I curl my lip at him. Any other afternoon, I would try to be more polite. After visiting the bakery and discussing yet another foreclosure notice with my father, though, my fucks have flown.

“You smell good enough to eat,” he adds, dragging his gaze up and down me slowly. It’s been a while since a man looked at me like I’d make a perfect snack. Even though I am taken, like this woman guessed, I can’t remember the last time my boyfriend, Roman, checked me out with that kind of raw hunger.

“And her boyfriend has first dibs.” The woman shoos him away.

As soon as he’s gone, muttering to himself at the other end of the car, she leans toward me. “Better?”

I let out a weak laugh. “Thanks.”

“There are just too many annoying men in the world to suffer through that kind of nonsense.” She adjusts her hands over her lap, probably as overheated as I am with the heater vents right in front of us, blasting too hard.

I nod, without the energy for anything more, worries swirling in my head. That guy is already forgotten, not worth my time.

How will we pay the bills?

How can we afford this loan?

How can I make the bakery grow, not limp along like it has been for years?

“It gets to us all,” the woman says wisely as we rock and roll with the old subway lumbering along.

“Hmm?”

She gestures at the limp snowman decal. “The inevitable winter blues now that the holidays are gone.” She peers at me, maternal once again.

“Oh. Right.”

“Is that what’s got you so down?” she asks kindly.

There’s no point denying that I must look glum. While the holidays were all right—at least the parts when I was with my parents were fun—I remember how awkward it was, too. Like when Roman avoided bringing me to any of his family festivities. He distracted me by taking me to his vacation home upstate, that massive castle-like place where we sort of enjoyed a winter getaway for a couple of days, but it didn’t escape my notice how he’d flat-out refused to bring me to meet his parents or spend time with his large family.

“Uh, no. Not really,” I admit.

“Trouble with men?” she guesses with an arch of her brow.

I smile, appreciating her Good Samaritan vibe. “Well…”

She nods slowly. “It always is, isn’t it?” she mutters.

My lips curl up more. I won’t admit that things are bad with Roman. But there’s room for improvement. Aside from his lack of interest in pursuing me like that young man just did, Roman’s just too distant.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >62

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His Assistant – Sinful Mafia Daddies Read Online Natasha L. Black http://www.ilovenovels.com/his-assistant-sinful-mafia-daddies-read-online-natasha-l-black Sun, 16 Aug 2026 18:30:29 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/his-assistant-sinful-mafia-daddies-read-online-natasha-l-black Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Mafia Authors: Natasha L. Black Advertisement

Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >67

I took the wrong elevator.
Now I work for the Mafia.

I was supposed to interview for an entry-level office job…
To help pay off my father’s debts.

Instead, I walked straight into Dominic Vieri.
Billionaire. Older. Powerful.
The kind of man who walks into a room…
...and owns every inch of it.

He never interviewed me.
He hired me.
Now he looks at me like he already owns me.

The job came with one unwritten rule.
Don't fall for your boss.
I broke it anyway.

One reckless night changed everything.
Now I've become the one thing his enemies can use to destroy him.

Dominic's solution?

Move me into his penthouse.
Post guards outside my door.
And makes one thing perfectly clear.
Nobody touches what's his.

The only problem?

Once Dominic discovers I’m carrying his child…
He’ll never let me go.

This is a full-length, standalone age-gap mafia romance packed with danger, possessive heat, and a guaranteed HEA. No cliffhanger

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

SOFIA

The woman at the security desk looks at my shoes before she looks at my face, and she doesn’t seem particularly impressed. I pretend not to notice. They’re clean. That should count for something, right?

They’re also a knockoff designer brand I scored on clearance. The left one pinches the side of my foot something awful, but fashion is pain, right? They match the navy slacks and cream blouse I picked out for my interview, so I breathe through it.

I desperately need this job. So, I don’t mind the way the security guard is side-eyeing me. It’ll be worth it later when she’s scanning my employee badge.

“Sofia Bellini,” I tell her as I step up to the desk. “I have a nine-thirty interview with the hospitality division.”

She checks her screen. I keep my shoulders straight and my hands still, even though I want to grab the edge of the desk for balance. After a few excruciating seconds, she prints a badge and slides it across.

“Twenty-sixth floor,” she says in a bored voice.

“Thank you!” I squeak out.

She nods once, already looking past me to the next person waiting to get in.

The lobby is so large I’d call it cavernous. It’s bigger than the cathedral I grew up attending in Queens, and for years I thought that was the biggest building in the world. Dad didn’t take us into Manhattan much. This place has marble floors, brass trim, and floor-to-ceiling windows. It feels wrong to scuff it in my knockoffs.

Vieri Holdings isn’t my usual scene. It’s a far cry from my Queens apartment, where the water pressure is pitiful, and my father’s repair shop with the cracked front window.

This place screams luxury and old money. There are floral arrangements taller than children going through puberty here. They probably cost more than my rent, too.

I head for the elevators and try not to tally the price of everything I see. It’s an unfortunate force of habit. My phone buzzes in my pocket just as the doors open, and I pull it out to read the message.

Good luck, sweetheart. Everything here is fine.

It’s from my dad, and I know for a fact that everything is not fine. The garage is not fine. It hasn’t been fine in a long time. His health isn’t fine either. His blood pressure is a constant headache to his doctor. His debt is not fine. It’s the main reason I made the trek on the subway this morning.

I wish it worked that way. I wish just saying things were fine would make them so.

I step inside the elevator with a woman in a pinstriped suit who’s barking into her phone like there’s no one else in the cramped space. Two men follow her in. One smells like expensive cologne. At least $500 an ounce, if I had to guess.

The woman presses thirty-two. One of the men presses forty. I press twenty-six. At least, I think I do.

My phone buzzes before the doors close.

Dad: Don’t worry about me today. Focus on you.

It would be a lot easier to focus on me if he’d stop texting. I don’t mean to feel as annoyed as I do, but my nerves are complicating everything else. I take a deep breath and type out a response.

Me: Love you. I’ll call after.

By the time I look up, the doors are open, so I step out, thinking it must be my floor. Only, too late, I realize the woman in the pinstriped suit is still yelling into her phone two feet ahead of me. The doors close behind me before I can get back in and try for the right floor.

“Of course,” I mutter.

I jab the down button and wait impatiently. This stupid little mistake is going to make me late to my interview. I turn my phone off just to make sure I don’t make another dumb error.

Somewhere down the hall, a woman yells, “No, no, no, that is not the revised deck.”

A man answers, “It was in the folder.”

“The wrong folder, Bruce.”

“I didn’t name the folders.”

“You don’t need to name them to read a date.”

I pretend not to hear them since it’s doing nothing to calm my nerves. Instead, I clutch my own folder containing my resume tighter to my chest and tap my foot impatiently at the world’s slowest elevator.

Then someone rounds the corner too fast. A hard shoulder slams into mine and I nearly fall to the floor. My folder wasn’t so lucky though and slips dramatically from my hand. Pages from my résumé scatter across the floor. A stack of black presentation folders hits the marble at the same time, and now there’s a huge mess. Why, God, why? This is the last thing I need right now.

Then I look up. The man who ran into me is tall, broad, and ridiculously attractive. Like, I’d probably forget my own name if he asked attractive. He’s wearing a dark, expensive suit. I’m guessing at least $5,000, not counting the shirt or cufflinks. His dark hair is graying a little at the temples, though it’s more silver than gray. He’s scowling even though he’s the one who ran into me, and that just irritates me further.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >67

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His Obsession – Sinful Mafia Daddies Read Online Natasha L. Black http://www.ilovenovels.com/his-obsession-sinful-mafia-daddies-read-online-natasha-l-black Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:11:29 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/his-obsession-sinful-mafia-daddies-read-online-natasha-l-black Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Forbidden, Mafia Authors: Natasha L. Black Advertisement

Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >67

I went to my brother's house expecting dinner.
Instead, his best friend looked at me like he wanted to ruin me.

Sebastian De Luca.
My brother's oldest friend.
Dark eyes. Controlled. And not the kind of man you say no to.

I should have kept my distance.
Instead, I let him pull me onto the dance floor of his nightclub.
Then into his bed, before I could remember why men like him are dangerous.

One night was supposed to get him out of my system.
Instead, two pink lines changed everything.

Then my violent ex found me.
And suddenly, nowhere felt safe anymore.

Sebastian moved me into his mansion that night.
Guards at every door. Eyes on every camera.
He didn't ask. He decided.

Now it's not just protection. It's possession.
And God help the man stupid enough to come for what's his.

This is a full-length, standalone age-gap mafia romance packed with danger, possessive heat, and a guaranteed HEA. No cliffhanger

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

VALENTINA

The bar line is backed up, the champagne needs more ice, and a girl with six million followers is about thirty seconds away from having a meltdown in the middle of the venue. As far as I’m concerned, the night is off to a perfect start.

I stand just outside the private elevator bank at the top of the hotel, phone in one hand, earpiece in, and my eyes sweeping the rooftop in quick, practiced passes. The venue is stunning, overlooking the ocean. One thing I’ll give LA is that the views blow Manhattan’s out of the water. The décor I’ve selected for tonight only adds to the ambience. Candlelight flickers across glass tables and white orchids hang over the main bar in soft, dramatic clusters. The skyline stretches beyond the low glass wall, glittering against a dark velvet sky.

“Valentina,” a voice calls.

I turn toward the service corridor just as one of the catering servers comes out carrying the wrong tray. He’s young, nervous, and moving too fast, which means he’s about to make a mistake.

I step into his path before he hits the floor. “Hold on.”

He stops so abruptly the tray rattles. “What?”

I glance down at the tuna cones on his platter. “These aren’t for the first pass. These go out after the founder speech.”

His face goes blank. “Chef told me these were up.”

“Chef is wrong,” I tell him, keeping my smile in place. “First pass is burrata crostini and truffle tartlets. Take these back and tell Mario I said if he pulls this again, I’m keying his car.”

The server blinks, then laughs nervously. “Okay.”

“You’re not in trouble. Just move.”

He nods and disappears back through the doors. I peer through the glass into the prep area and catch Mario’s eye immediately. He puts a hand over his heart like I’ve wounded him. I point two fingers at him. He grins.

I swear under my breath, then cut across the terrace to head off the next problem.

An influencer in silver sequins is leaning over the east bar, giving one of the bartenders hell because she wants into the roped-off lounge. The bartender looks about one second away from telling her off, which would inevitably end up all over TikTok.

I slide in beside her.

“You look stunning, Melissa,” I say warmly, like we’re old friends and she’s not currently terrorizing my staff. “I’m so glad you made it.”

She turns, ready to fight, then hesitates. People like being greeted by someone who looks like she’s in charge. I learned that a long time ago.

“Someone’s fucked up the VIP room,” she snaps.

“I’m so sorry you feel that way,” I tell her gently. “The front lounge is reserved for press during the first hour, and then we’ll be rotating guests through after remarks. You’re at the top of the list.”

Her mouth tightens. “I don’t wait in lines.”

“Neither do I.” I lean in like I’m about to do her a favor. “That’s why I’d hit the west photo wall right now, before the actresses get here. The lighting is better on that side, and once the bigger names start posting, the line is going to be impossible.”

That gets her attention. She glances toward the west side, already calculating her own face from every angle.

“Perfect,” she says, a gleam in her eye, and stalks toward the west wall.

A launch party like this is controlled chaos. The clients think they’re paying for beauty and exclusivity. What they’re actually paying for is the woman sprinting in heels behind the scenes so no one realizes the ice delivery was late, the logo plaque on the flower wall shifted half an inch, and one of the assistants nearly cried.

I catch a hostess near the private lounge and straighten the angle of her name badge without breaking stride.

“Relax your shoulders,” I murmur to her.

She straightens. “Sorry.”

“You’re fine,” I tell her kindly. “Just breathe. It’s a catering job, not World War III.”

Gia appears beside me like she was summoned by my stress level alone. She looks incredible in her bronze slip dress, with long dark hair swept over one shoulder, and sharp, smoky eyes that miss almost nothing. She works in branding and publicity, which means we cross paths constantly. Somewhere in the middle of that, she became my best friend.

“Mrs. Reynolds is panicking in the powder room because she thinks one side of her contour looks muddy,” she says.

Jacqueline Reynolds is the wife of Harold Reynolds, the founder of the company launching tonight. She’s the kind of woman who thinks this party is all about her, and she’ll milk every last second of it.

“I already sent up a makeup artist.” I sigh.

“Of course you did.” Gia laughs. “You don’t miss a thing.”

I grin and take a sip of water before scanning the room. The DJ is spinning bland, nondescript music that’ll serve as background for the evening. The bartender has a small crowd, but he moves like lightning, keeping the wait time low. Out of habit, I note where every security guard is stationed.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >67

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Ruthless Vow – Sinful Mafia Daddies Read Online Natasha L. Black http://www.ilovenovels.com/ruthless-vow-sinful-mafia-daddies-read-online-natasha-l-black Wed, 20 May 2026 17:52:11 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/ruthless-vow-sinful-mafia-daddies-read-online-natasha-l-black Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Authors: Natasha L. Black Advertisement

Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >71

He saved me from a kidnapping.
Promised protection I never asked for.
And became more dangerous than my enemies.
Viktor Kovalev isn’t a hero.
He’s the kind of man even the Bratva fears.
And he just started a war over me.
I was supposed to marry a monster.
A forced Bratva alliance my own father arranged.
I said no.
They dragged me into a car anyway.
Then Viktor showed up with a gun and a death wish,
And everything changed.
He locked me in a safehouse.
Called me Valkyrie.
And looked at me like I was already his.
I told him I’d never be his.
He said, “Then fight me.”
So I did — until fighting turned into something
neither of us could walk away from.
Now I’m carrying a secret that will change everything.
His enemies want me as a bride.
My father wants me as a bargaining chip.
But Viktor?
When he finds out what I’m hiding, he won’t just protect me.
He’ll end bloodlines to keep ours safe

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

VIKTOR

Ileave the restaurant before dessert because I’m tired of listening to these assholes lie to my face. They think they’re clever, but I see through their ass-kissing. They want a piece of my territory, but the answer will always be no. They think I’m going to forget how quickly men like them switch sides when a bigger threat walks into the room.

Sergei stays behind to finish the meeting with them. He’s better at pretending to negotiate, at reeling them in to the point that we earn their trust. I’m the one who ultimately drops the hammer. My word is law. It doesn’t hurt to have allies though, and just because I’m not giving them my property doesn’t mean we can’t be useful to one another in the future.

That’s where Sergei shines. He somehow makes people see a “no” as a positive. He establishes these bullshit relationships that help us and hurt our enemies. They don’t even realize what they’re agreeing to when all is said and done, and we still end up on top. It’s why Sergei is the second-in-command of my family’s operation. He knows how to get results.

The smaller Brighton outfits are getting nervous. That’s what tonight was about, even if they wouldn’t say it directly. They kept circling back to the same subject without ever landing on it. They’re all terrified of Grinkov. They’re all experiencing new dock disputes, increased security shifts, and shipments that used to move quietly are now being rerouted. They all want to know if I’m going to step in and do something about it. They want protection without openly declaring allegiance.

I’m not in the habit of fighting other men’s wars.

My family carved out our stretch of Brooklyn decades ago. My grandfather did it with brute force. My father cleaned it up, turned it into something structured and profitable. I inherited something stable, something disciplined. We don’t expand our operations purely for ego. We expand when it makes sense for our organization. We survive by minding our own business and staying out of petty disputes.

Grinkov doesn’t operate that way. He doesn’t build, he consumes. That’s why everyone is running scared. They don’t want their own operations to be bulldozed by Grinkov, but it’s not my place to intervene.

I collect my keys from the valet and wait for him to bring the car around. By the time he pulls around, I barely give him a chance to get out before I’m behind the wheel.

I told my driver to take the night off because I knew this meeting would leave a bad taste in my mouth. I need a drive to clear my head and consider everything that’s happened.

Neptune Avenue is alive tonight. Music spills out of open doors. Women laugh too loudly, stumbling over shoes that look like weapons. A few young idiots rev engines like they’re the biggest, baddest punks on the block. I don’t see any of it the way civilians do. I’m counting security rotations. I’m noting new faces outside clubs that used to answer to me. I’m clocking which runners are too young to be local.

There are too many new bodies in Brighton Beach. Too much movement near my borders.

Brighton Beach has always been shared territory in practice, even if no one says it out loud. Half answers to Kovalev influence. Half leans toward Malenkov. Grinkov has been trying to tilt that balance for years, buying up failing businesses, sliding their people into management positions, offering loans with interest rates that bleed families dry.

They don’t just want Brighton. They want all of Brooklyn.

If they get enough footholds, they’ll start pressing toward Bay Ridge and Red Hook next. Toward my docks.

And I don’t lose ground.

Volna’s side entrance comes up on my right. That club is Grinkov money through and through. Flashy, loud, attracting exactly the kind of chaos that brings police attention. I’ve let them keep it because it’s contained. Because it’s easier to let them burn out Brighton than to fight over it, but I don’t like how popular it’s becoming. It’s attracting an unwelcome element to my territory.

I’m halfway past the alley when the movement pulls my attention.

There are three men crowding around a woman near a black sedan that’s angled toward the street, engine already running. At first glance, it looks like the kind of messy argument that happens outside nightclubs every weekend. A drunk couple fighting. A girl refusing to go home. Something loud but ultimately unimportant.

Then I look closer.

One of the men is gripping her upper arm too high and too tightly for it to be casual. The second has his hand braced at her waist, not guiding her but forcing her. The third keeps glancing up the street instead of looking at her, which tells me this is organized.

I slow the car without thinking about it. A horn blares behind me and I flip on my hazards. The driver lays on his horn again. I don’t look back. If he wants to pick a fight, he’s going to get more than he’s bargaining for.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >71

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Saved by the Devil – Sinful Mafia Daddies Read Online Natasha L. Black http://www.ilovenovels.com/saved-read-online-the-devil-sinful-mafia-daddies-read-online-natasha-l-black Sat, 28 Feb 2026 17:33:12 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/saved-read-online-the-devil-sinful-mafia-daddies-read-online-natasha-l-black Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Authors: Natasha L. Black Advertisement

Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 62994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >67

I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
And I witnessed something I was never meant to see.
A scream.
A gunshot.
A man with blood on his hands who doesn’t pretend to be a hero.
Samuil Volkov runs the Bratva with violence and precision.
Men fear him. Enemies disappear.
When he pulls me out of that alley, I become a liability.
I saw too much.
And the men he crossed want me gone.
One night changes everything.
One reckless mistake binds us together.
Now I’m carrying his child.
His enemies are closing in.
The man who swore he’d never have a family is ready to start a war.
Because the Devil didn’t just save my life.
He claimed it

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

SAMUIL

Iwatch as blood runs down the marble sink, disappearing down the drain. The longer I scrub my hands, the pinker the water becomes. Finally, when I’m sure I’ve gotten all the blood off, I towel my hands dry and slip out of my ruined shirt. Hopefully, Rosalina will be able to get the stains out. I know better than to wear white when I’m dealing with a problem, but this scuffle came up unexpectedly.

It doesn’t matter. I’m used to blood, and so is she. Good help is everything in a job like this.

I grab a new shirt from the small linen closet. This is what I mean about good help. Rosalina keeps my office closet well-stocked at all times. She knows better than anyone that I often have to change quickly like this. I take great pride in my appearance, so tailored, designer suits are a must. If only I could stop ruining them with blood.

I walk out of the marble washroom and step back into my office. The lights are low to help Davýd with his headache. When it’s dark in here like this, it’s easier to see the sprawling city below my window.

Davýd sits in one of the leather chairs facing my desk, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. Blood marks his shirt in a rough smear down the front, and more darkens his collar. His lip is split. The gash above his eye is swollen so badly that his lid has completely closed. He hasn’t bothered with ice.

I open the small stainless-steel fridge behind my desk and take out one of the ice packs I keep stocked for nights like this. I toss it to him. It lands in his palm with a soft thud. He groans and presses it to the side of his head, hissing at the sting.

“You need to work on your defensive stance,” I say, turning away from him. It’s half-truth, half-reproach. Davýd can win in a fight against just about anyone, but sometimes he forgets he’s not invincible.

He doesn’t laugh at the joke. He hasn’t laughed much in the last few months.

I move to the window and rest my hands on the polished wood sill, staring at the city below. From here, all our problems seem so small and insignificant, but they’ve clearly followed us home. My ruined shirt and Davýd’s face are proof of that. At least the blood isn’t mine.

“They’re not going to stop coming at you,” Davýd mutters behind me. His voice is low, strained, and tired. He’s been tired a lot lately.

I turn my head enough to see him.

“No,” I say. “They won’t, which is why I need to stop them for good.”

He lifts his head enough to peer at me with his one good eye. He looks like he wants to argue, to caution me, but he knows better. There’s a line between brother and subordinate, and he never tests it when my mind is already set.

“You want to hit Lebedev where it hurts,” he says instead, settling back in the chair. It isn’t a question. He knows me too well.

“Whether he claims the attack or not, you and I both know he’s not going to stop hitting until his hands are broken.”

Davýd’s jaw tightens as he considers this.

“Lebedev is unpredictable. He’s drunk half the time, and paranoid the rest. You take him out and his men scatter without a leader, but the fallout will be messy.”

“The fallout doesn’t concern me,” I say nonchalantly. “My main concern is cutting off the head of the beast.”

He snorts softly, winces at the pain from his cracked lip, then adjusts the ice against his brow.

“All right.” He sighs. “Then tell me what your next move is, and what you need me to do.”

I look away from the city and back at him, at his battered face, at the fatigue in his shoulders. He’s loyal in a way most men can’t even imagine. He has bled for me too many times to count. I walk back toward him and stop beside the desk.

“I need you to take a team to the warehouse on Ninth,” I say. “Call the men in shifts. I want eyes on Lebedev’s shipments at all times, and I want confirmation on who he’s been meeting. I suspect he’s got someone else funding his operation, and I need to know who that person is.”

Davýd nods easily, accepting the order despite the fact that his face is still swollen and he can barely see out of his good eye.

“Do you have someone to watch Anya tonight?” I ask quietly.

His shoulders stiffen and he lowers the ice pack to look up at me fully. “I can manage Anya on my own,” he says. “She’ll stay with me.”

“You don’t want her anywhere near this shit,” I remind him. “How’s it been with her?”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >67

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Her Mountain Saviors – Why Just One Read Online Natasha L. Black http://www.ilovenovels.com/her-mountain-saviors-why-just-one-read-online-natasha-l-black Sun, 01 Feb 2026 09:23:27 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/her-mountain-saviors-why-just-one-read-online-natasha-l-black Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Authors: Natasha L. Black Advertisement

Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >83

Smoke fills my cabin before I realize what’s wrong
Moments later, three strangers come crashing into my life.

They’re big. Bearded. Furious I almost burned the place down.
One of them hauls me outside like I weigh nothing.
Another wraps me in his coat, all heat and muscle.
And the third looks at me like I’m already his responsibility.

That’s how I end up in their mountain lodge—
and how I met Boone, Chance, and Dillon.

A former UFC champion.
A lethal ex-Marine.
A brilliant hacker with a sinful smile.

They gave me a job.
A place to hide.
And a kind of attention that makes my knees weak.

They don’t love like normal men.
They share.
And when they decide to claim me, there’s no turning back.

But the danger I ran from didn’t stop hunting me.

And when it comes to the mountain…
These men will do whatever it takes to protect what’s theirs.

Even if it costs them everything.

This is a standalone contemporary reverse harem romance with a curvy heroine, three fiercely protective men, high-stakes danger, and a guaranteed HEA. Expect possessive heroes, why-choose romance, and plenty of steamy scenes featuring MFMM dynamics

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

ROXIE

In the two years I’ve been slinging drinks at one of Manhattan’s top clubs, I’ve learned that bad men don’t always look it. Some wear thousand-dollar suits and smile like saints, while committing some of the worst sins imaginable.

But college doesn’t pay for itself, and the tips make the forced smiles worth it.

Vincent Caruso is at one of my tables again tonight, all pearly white teeth and smooth, sophisticated menace. Silver-white streaks shoot through his black hair and deep lines are etched into formerly handsome features. His tailored cream-colored suit alone probably costs as much as my rent for an entire year.

Rumor has it he is the kind of guy who can order a hit and a martini in the same breath. He leans across the table, speaking intently to some other older guy opposite him.

Music from the main dance floor filters up to the balcony where they are seated, with strobe lights flashing overhead and washing their features in pulses of red, purple, and green. I’m supposed to be listening as I approach, but it’s hard not to when the music isn’t deafening up here and someone drops the words “take out Reed” between a toast and a refill.

I freeze mid-step, the champagne bottle suddenly like a flashing beacon of oh-fuck between my fingers. My hand is still steady, but my brain isn’t.

My thoughts start racing, my fingers going numb when it dawns on me what I’ve walked into. Bob Reed is the district attorney. The guy has been on every news channel this week talking about cleaning up the Caruso syndicate.

I don’t breathe or blink. I just try to fade into the velvet wallpaper and pretend I hadn’t heard a damn thing, but then the ice bucket gets in my way.

There’s a neat little clink when I smack the bottle into it as I back away, then comes the long, dramatic crash of my paycheck and my hopes of getting away unnoticed hitting the floor.

Melted ice sloshes out, the silver bucket lying in the middle of the darkening carpet like a victim at a crime scene. Glass shatters, flying in every direction when the replacement bottle bursts on impact.

Caruso’s head turns at the commotion, the boss’s dark eyes immediately finding mine. I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly drier than the Sahara.

Shit.

I don’t see him give any signal, but the bodyguards flanking the table move fast, like shadows bound in muscle as they start toward me. In the space between one heartbeat and the next, I’m already running, ducking behind the VIP curtain and abandoning my tray while my heart does its best impression of a pounding drumline.

I know the layout of this club as well as my own apartment. I tear down the hall, race past the kitchen, and burst through the door that sticks unless you hit it with your hip.

The shouts I leave in my wake grow louder as I sprint past the back bar and into the service corridor. Someone yells my name, but I recognize the voice and it doesn’t belong to anyone dangerous.

Trinity, my coworker, is probably wondering why I’m racing through the club like I have hellhounds on my tail.

I tuck my chin and keep running. Tomorrow, I will explain. Maybe. Right now, all I need is to get out of here. Out of sight, out of mind. Isn’t that how it works?

There’s no way they’ll remember the waitress’s face, I tell myself. No way they care enough to come after me if I can just get out.

Finally, I burst out into the alley, the city noise swallowing me whole. The cool night air hits like a slap after the heat in the club, the scent of diesel, rain, and freedom in every ragged breath I drag in.

My pulse is still hammering when I hit the street. My whole body shakes, but I keep running.

I’ll have to get a new job just to be on the safe side. Maybe even a new name. But I’m alive.

Unless they come after me.

Don’t be dramatic. They’re not going to come⁠—

A gunshot cracks through the night, and my heart drops straight past my stomach all the way to Middle earth. Concrete crumbles. Glass rains down from somewhere.

My brain doesn’t even fully register the sounds for what they are until instinct does. Holy fuck. They’re chasing me.

One of my heels disappears when I bolt around the corner, sacrificed to the gods of bad timing and uneven pavement. I kick the other away instead of hobbling. Survival will be enough. I don’t need to accessorize on the other side.

“Stop!” one of them shouts, the word freezing my spine worse than the wind.

God, he’s closer than I thought. Too close.

Bullets hiss past, a hot swipe of air and panic. A car alarm starts screaming somewhere as I duck into an alley that smells like piss, fried oil, and regret, my heart still trying to break out of my ribs.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >83

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Forbidden Boss Read Online Natasha L. Black http://www.ilovenovels.com/forbidden-boss-read-online-natasha-l-black Wed, 07 Jan 2026 10:40:22 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/forbidden-boss-read-online-natasha-l-black Genre: Alpha Male, Forbidden, Mafia Authors: Natasha L. Black Advertisement

Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >67

On Sunday night, I slept with a stranger.
On Monday morning, he became my boss.
On Tuesday, I learned he’s the Pakhan.

Lev Borikov.
CEO. Bratva king.
Controlled, lethal, untouchable.

I’m the accountant hired to fix the books,
and the woman he never expected to see again.

When I find missing millions,
I become a target.
The FBI urges me to run.
Lev forbids it.

His solution is
take me home, keep me close,
and protect me with the same brutality he rules the city with.

But then I discover I’m pregnant,
and I’m not just carrying his secret—
I’m carrying the future of the Bratva.

Because in the Bratva, what the Pakhan claims is his forever.

This is a full-length standalone mafia romance. No cliff hanger. Happily ever after guaranteed!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

INTRODUCTION

On Sunday night, I slept with a stranger.

On Monday morning, he became my boss.

On Tuesday, I learned he’s the Pakhan.

Lev Borikov.

CEO. Bratva king.

Controlled, lethal, untouchable.

I’m the accountant hired to fix the books,

and the woman he never expected to see again.

When I find missing millions,

I become a target.

The FBI urges me to run.

Lev forbids it.

His solution is simple:

take me home, keep me close,

and protect me with the same brutality he rules the city with.

But then I discover I’m pregnant,

and I’m not just carrying his secret⁠—

I’m carrying the future of the Bratva.

Because in the Bratva, what the Pakhan claims is his forever.

This is a full-length standalone mafia romance. No cliff hanger. Happily ever after guaranteed!

1

MARI

The bass shakes through the floor and climbs into my chest, a relentless beat that makes conversation pointless and dancing irresistible. Neon lights spill across the packed club, washing strangers in shifting blue and pink. I tip my glass back, finish the last sweet swallow of my cocktail, and laugh as Susie grabs my wrist and pulls me deeper onto the dance floor.

The crowd swallows us whole. Bodies press close, heat rising in a wave that clings to my skin. I let it sink into me, let the music loosen the knot of responsibility that always sits between my shoulders. Tonight, I’m not the girl who spent years hunched over library desks or the one who counted every dollar and stretched it as far as it would go.

Tonight, I’m celebrating.

Hours earlier, I was standing barefoot in my tiny kitchen when my phone rang with a number I didn’t recognize. I almost ignored it, ready to let it go to voicemail, but curiosity made me swipe the screen.

“Ms. Gonzales?” a woman asked, brisk and professional enough to make my pulse skyrocket.

“Yes, this is she,” I said, my throat going dry.

“This is Janet Munson at Levcon Industries. I’m pleased to extend an offer of employment for the Forensic Accountant position you interviewed for. If possible, we’d like you to start on Monday.”

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. Then the words slammed into me all at once, and I gripped the counter to keep from laughing or screaming, or both. I’d interviewed for that position thinking there was no shot in hell I’d ever get it. And now it was mine!

The call ended in a blur of formalities. I didn’t register a single one. All I remembered was punching Susie’s contact with shaking fingers.

She answered with her usual impatience.

“You’d better be dying or telling me you got that fancy job you’ve been stressing about,” she said, her brusqueness cutting through the line.

Susie absolutely hates talking on the phone.

“I got it!” My voice cracked from the force of excitement. “Levcon just called. I start Monday.”

Her squeal nearly burst my eardrums.

“Oh, my God, Mari! This is huge! We’re going out to celebrate tonight, no arguments.”

Now here we are, standing in the middle of one of Manhattan’s hottest nightclubs, surrounded by flashing lights and music so loud it rattles my bones.

Susie twirls, her silver dress sparkling under the lights, her blonde hair flying around her face as she laughs. She’s a magnet for attention, already catching eyes from every angle, but she only grins at me, urging me to let go.

At first, I’m reluctant, but I give in, swaying with her and letting the rhythm take over. The knot between my shoulders starts to loosen in a way it hasn’t in the last year.

That’s when I see him.

He stands in the roped-off VIP section that overlooks the dance floor, a few feet from anyone else. Unlike the crowd of guys our age, he doesn’t fidget with his phone or shout to be heard over the music. He simply stands there, a dark silhouette against the neon haze, radiating a kind of quiet command that draws my gaze like gravity.

The lights shift, and I catch him in full view.

He has salt-and-pepper hair, cut neatly at the sides and longer on top, catching the glow in silver streaks. His jaw is sharp, his mouth set in a line that looks like it rarely curves into a smile.

He’s tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in a tailored suit that fits him so well it must have been made for him. His icy blue eyes scan the club like he’s above it all. His gaze makes my spine straighten immediately, though I can’t quite explain why.

I freeze in place, caught by the sheer force of him.

Susie follows my line of sight, then smirks. She leans close, her lips brushing my ear so I can hear her over the music.

“Wow, he’s hot,” she says, eyeing him appreciatively. “But he’s old, Mari. Like, probably old enough to be your dad.”

My eyes stay locked on him.

“So what?” I shout back over the music. “I’m done with boys. I want a man who knows what he’s doing. Someone who doesn’t think ramen counts as a meal.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >67

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Bound by Debt – Sinful Mafia Daddies Read Online Natasha L. Black http://www.ilovenovels.com/bound-read-online-debt-sinful-mafia-daddies-read-online-natasha-l-black Sun, 07 Dec 2025 21:11:21 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/bound-read-online-debt-sinful-mafia-daddies-read-online-natasha-l-black Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Suspense Authors: Natasha L. Black Advertisement

Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >90

My family’s debt became my prison.
Now I belong to the man who owns it.

Evgeny Kucherov.
Cold. Scarred. Merciless. Feared by all.
When I got caught trying to fix things,
he took me instead.

A deal was struck—
my family’s safety in exchange for my freedom.
Now I work for him, trapped inside his mansion,
my skills at his disposal and my body at his mercy.

He’s dangerous, unpredictable…
the kind of man you should run from but never can.

Every command tests my will.
Every touch burns hotter than the last.
And when I discover I’m carrying his twins,
I realize I’ll never truly escape him.

Because debts can be repaid.
But a man like Evgeny Kucherov never lets go of what’s his.

This is a full-length standalone mafia romance. No cliff hanger. Happily ever after guaranteed!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

EVA

“I’m gonna kill this kid.”

I feel the bass pounding through the soles of my shoes before I even hear the song. My heels tap to the beat as I stride down the dark, smoky hallway. It’s hard not to stumble back. The music, the bright strobes, and the thrum of the crowd swamp my senses, and for a moment I almost run back the way I came.

Instead, I forge ahead, pushing through club-goers in short dresses and tacky suits, ties pulled loose or draped around their necks. It’s hard to tell one face from another in this place, much less spot the person I’m looking for.

“Where the hell is Jordan?” I ask, finally spotting Damon’s light hair, messy as always, like he rolled out of bed and didn’t bother with a mirror. He’s hunched over a drink at the bar, his eyes half-lidded.

“Well, look at you,” Damon says, his eyes raking over me in a way he wouldn’t dare if he were sober. “Is that what’s hiding under all those baggy sweatshirts?”

“Shut the fuck up before I do it for you, Damon.”

I’m out of patience tonight, and I’m not dealing with this asshole whose creepy stares I’ve put up with since he and my brother became friends in ninth grade.

“Don’t shoot the messenger.” He shrugs, sipping whatever clear liquid is in his glass. “Shouldn’t you be thanking me for getting you out of your basement lair?”

With its sharp angles, dark leather, exposed steel, and crystal chandeliers, this club is not my scene. I spend my days in a windowless basement by choice, away from other people, surrounded by my monitors and the soft hum of their towers.

“Just tell me where the fuck he is, Damon. And aren’t you a little, I don’t know, underage to be at the bar? Or in this club at all?”

My throat already hurts from yelling to be heard over the music.

His only answer is a shrug. “Like they care here as long as they have my money.”

“I’m pretty sure they’ll care if it’s all over the news that Club Empire is serving minors. You think they’ll appreciate that?” I put all the menace I can into the threat.

Damon shakes his head and drops the glass onto the marble counter with a thud. “Whatever. I was going home anyway.”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know where he is. Somewhere in the club. He went off with a few guys a while ago, and I haven’t seen him since.”

The club sprawls, with a busy dance floor past the bar. Never mind that there are surely private rooms I won’t be able to talk my way into, which means my idiot brother could be anywhere.

“Eva.”

I look back at my brother’s friend as he slides off the barstool. An edge of fear has replaced the bleariness in his eyes. “Be careful. Those guys looked like trouble, and you know what Jordan’s been into lately.”

I don’t know. Not exactly. But this club is rumored to have connections to the Kucherov Bratva, and that’s bad enough. They aren’t a bunch you want to cross. Kucherov.

“Fucking asshole,” I growl under my breath, but I’m not talking about the kid whose blonde head I see squeezing through the crowd to the exit, the guy I’m here to drag out of trouble. I couldn’t count on my fingers how many times I’ve had to save his ass.

Someone screams as the music changes, though it’s hard to hear the melody over the pounding club beat. Then more screams join the first, and the crowd, which pushed me one way, surges back like a riptide, pulling me with it. I’m too small to resist it, so all I can do is cover my head and try to stay on my feet so I don’t get trampled.

The crowd clears just in time for me to see a big man in a cheap suit lower his head and barrel into a tall kid with dark hair standing in the middle of the vacated dance floor.

“Jordan!”

The scream leaves my throat before I’m even aware of the impulse to yell my brother’s name. And then I’m running, heels be damned, launching myself at the guy who has the front of my brother’s shirt in one hand and is smashing his other fist repeatedly into my brother’s face.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >90

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Claimed by the Boss – Sinful Mafia Daddies Read Online Natasha L. Black http://www.ilovenovels.com/claimed-read-online-the-boss-sinful-mafia-daddies-read-online-natasha-l-black Wed, 19 Nov 2025 18:26:46 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/claimed-read-online-the-boss-sinful-mafia-daddies-read-online-natasha-l-black Genre: Alpha Male Authors: Natasha L. Black Advertisement

Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >68

Falling for your new boss is a bad idea.
Getting pregnant by him? Even worse.
Especially when he runs the Bratva.

He saved me from a creep at the bar,
then handed me his business card.
Damien Morozov.
Impossibly rich. Impeccably controlled.
The kind of man whose world should never collide with mine.

So imagine my shock when I walk into my new job…
and find him behind the desk.
The man I thought I’d never see again.

I thought he was a businessman.
Turns out, he’s the one they whisper about.
The ghost in a tailored suit.
The man who commands the Bratva.

I tried to keep my secret safe.
But nothing stays hidden from Damien Morozov.
Especially not me.

When Damien learns the truth, his control shatters.
Not with anger—but with obsession.
Because no one touches what belongs to him.
Not his empire.
Not his woman.
And definitely not his child.

This is a full-length standalone mafia romance. No cliff hanger. Happily ever after guaranteed!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

LYRA

The sound of a glass shattering draws attention near the bar.

Before I can even process who did it and why it happened, my coworker catches my attention first.

“Table seventeen wants another bottle of Dom, and the guy in the grey suit asked if we serve caviar with a conscience,” Cindy mutters as she breezes past me, two martinis balanced in one hand.

Maison Royale is chaos dressed in crystal and candlelight. Jazz hums from the baby grand in the corner, the clink of cutlery and high heels layering over it. Manhattan glitters outside the floor-to-ceiling windows like a city showing off.

I dodge a stumbling drunk in Gucci loafers and slide into my section, tray perched on my shoulder. The finance bros are already loud and laughing too hard at jokes that probably aren’t even a little bit funny, while loosening their ties like it’s a strip show. I deliver their cocktails with a smile polished from years of practice.

“Gentlemen,” I say, setting the glasses down. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

One of them, slicked-back hair and Wall Street swagger, leans in. His breath reeks of gin and ego.

“How about your number?” he slurs.

“Not on the menu,” I reply, still smiling.

His buddies chuckle. He doesn’t.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he pushes, voice thick. “You want that big tip, don’t you?” He jerks his chin downward.

I keep my tray steady. “Anything else I can get for you?”

His smile drops. “Snooty bitch,” he mutters under his breath as I walk away.

I hear it, but I don’t stop. Can’t resist not rolling my eyes though.

The rest of the night blurs as orders come in, tables reset, and I expertly dodge many pairs of sweaty hands and veiled insults with the grace of a stage actress. But it comes to a full stop fifteen minutes later when I return to the bros with their steaks.

“This is too rare,” Mr. Slicked Hair snaps, poking at the plate like it offended him personally. “Also, your service sucks.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say coolly. “Would you like to speak with my manager?”

“Oh, don’t run off,” he sneers. “A girl like you should be able to handle a little criticism.”

He steps into my space. I don’t flinch, but I can feel eyes on us now. Nearby tables go quiet.

“Apologize,” he demands, eyes narrowed. “For your attitude.”

I blink once. “I offered to comp your dessert.”

He grabs my wrist.

My body reacts faster than my mind. I twist, pull back, but he holds tight. The tray wobbles in my other hand. Ice rattles.

“Let go,” I say under my breath.

“Don’t be a⁠—”

Then he’s gone in a blink of an eye.

He’s ripped away so fast he stumbles into a chair. A stranger, who is tall, calm, and terrifyingly precise, has him by the collar. One second it’s chaos, the next it’s a chokehold.

The finance bro gasps. His feet scramble against the tile.

“The lady said no,” the man says. His voice is cool. Russian-accented. Deadly calm.

He doesn’t shout. He doesn’t need to.

The room goes silent. Even the pianist stops playing.

“Let’s not make a scene,” he adds.

It’s far too late for that.

The mysterious man releases him. Mr. Slicked Hair collapses into his seat, choking and red-faced. His friends grab their coats and drag him out, tossing a wad of cash on the table like that makes it better.

I stand there frozen, my heart racing from the action that unfolded so quickly in front of me.

The man straightens his cufflinks, as if he didn’t just choke someone in the middle of a Michelin-starred dining room and walks back to his table without looking at me.

That’s when I notice his suit. It’s midnight black and impeccably tailored to compliment his obviously very fit stature. He sits across from an older man eating steak like nothing happened.

I don’t know whether to be shaken or impressed.

I exhale hard and head straight to the service station. My hands are shaking, but I keep moving and grab a water pitcher, looking to see if anyone in my range of view needs a refill. I need something to do. Anything.

Cindy rounds the corner, eyes wide. “What the hell just happened?”

“I’m fine,” I mutter, even though my pulse is still sprinting. “Handled.”

“You sure? Because Mr. Cold War over there looked like he was about to snap that guy in half.”

I glance across the dining room. He’s back at his table, calm as ever, sipping red wine like nothing happened. His companion, who is older with salt-and-pepper hair, doesn’t even glance up. It’s like this is normal for them.

And maybe it is. Rich people could lead impossibly weird lifestyles.

I refill a couple of water glasses and loop back around my section. The table where it all went down is now cleared and reset, thanks to a busboy who saw it all go down with wide eyes and fast hands. The tip the bros left is still sitting there, a fat wad of twenties.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >68

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Sold to the Bratva – Sinful Mafia Daddies Read Online Natasha L. Black http://www.ilovenovels.com/sold-to-the-bratva-sinful-mafia-daddies-read-online-natasha-l-black Sun, 12 Oct 2025 20:51:38 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/sold-to-the-bratva-sinful-mafia-daddies-read-online-natasha-l-black Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Authors: Natasha L. Black Advertisement

Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63391 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >67

My father didn’t protect me.
He auctioned me off.
Straight into the arms of a ruthless man twice my age.

The devil dressed in a three-piece suit.…
Isaac Kozlov.
A man who doesn’t request—he commands .

One vow stole my freedom.
One night in his bed ruined my resolve.

I swore I’d never love him.
Never crave the touch of a man who rules by fear.

But Isaac doesn’t bend.
He breaks.
And every time he claims me, my hatred burns into dangerous desire.

Then his enemies strike.
I’m kidnapped. A pawn in a war I never asked to play.

His enemies thought they could take me.
They forgot who owns me.

Isaac will scorch the earth to bring me back.
Not for love. Not for mercy.
Because in his world, possession is permanent.

And once I’m his again,
he’ll ruin me in ways I’ll never recover from—
starting with the baby I swore I’d never give him.

This is a full-length standalone mafia romance. No cliff hanger. Happily ever after guaranteed!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

KATYA

“Fuck you’re a good kisser.”

“I’m an even better lay.”

Little does my date know, it’ll never get that far.

The front door creaks when I shove it open with my back, a laugh slipping out as his warm lips skim the sensitive curve of my neck. I grope for the handle until I catch it, nudging the door shut with a soft click. Leaning into the stranger’s mouth, I let him leave feather kisses over my skin, even though I can’t remember his name.

Vince? Vlad? Something with a V, maybe a B. Not that it matters. He smells of leather, gin, and unearned swagger. The kind of guy who orders bottle service and leaves a five-percent tip. In short, a douche, but I don’t care. He was charming enough to reel me in and sleazy enough to infuriate my dad. For tonight, that’s the only thing that matters.

I slip off my heels one at a time, my bare feet settling on the cool marble.

“Shh,” I whisper, glancing down the hallway. “Don’t be too loud, or you’ll disturb the guards.”

He lets out a low chuckle. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll be in and out before anyone even knows I was here.”

There’s the sleaze I was hoping for. Then again, even if he were a choirboy from Jersey, my father would still hate him. In my father’s eyes, who I bring home is never my call. My love life is just another pawn in his game. And, tonight, yanking that pawn off the board is all that matters to me.

I smirk at Vince-or-Vlad, whatever his name is.

“Cocky,” I purr. “I like that.”

It’s not exactly a lie. Honestly, I don’t even know what I like in a guy except that he cannot be someone my father hand-picked. Once my fate is sealed, there’s no going back, so for now I’ll squeeze whatever fun I can out of the night.

Our hushed voices ricochet through the grand hallway, slicing through the silence that hangs over the place. Growing up here was less luxury and more legislation, a museum of velvet drapes, antique furniture, and armed men I learned to slip past if I wanted even a shred of normalcy.

We make it only six steps into the house before a voice crashes through the dark.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Katya?”

I stop cold, my heartbeat thrumming with surprise and anger.

It isn’t the volume of his voice, it’s the lethal edge. My spine locks as I turn toward the source. The living room glows with amber light from the fireplace, casting long shadows across the ornate rug. My father sits in his usual armchair, his jaw set like stone, and beside him, smugly sipping scotch and clearly enjoying the show, is Oleg Grinkov, the pakhan of the Grinkov Bratva.

Shit. I didn’t just get caught. I embarrassed my father in front of his boss. There will be hell to pay. I swallow hard and sidestep whatshisname, shoving him behind me like a misbehaving dog.

“I didn’t realize you were home,” I say, my voice pitched too high and nowhere near sharp enough.

Papa’s stare doesn’t waver. “It’s time for you to send your friend home.”

“He’s not my friend,” I shoot back, trying to maintain some tiny shred of control over the situation. “He’s my reward for playing the dutiful daughter all damn day.”

His brow lifts, and my attempt to assert myself dies a swift, painful death.

I turn to my club fling and sigh. “You should go,” I say quietly.

He frowns, wearing the look of a man who’s just realized he isn’t getting lucky tonight.

“What? Babe⁠—”

“Now,” I snap, cutting him off. “Seriously. Get the hell out of here if you know what’s good for you.”

He shifts his gaze between the two men and me like he’s finally realized he might be in real danger. Then he huffs, mutters something under his breath, and walks out the front door with his ego bruised and his night ruined. I almost envy him.

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