In a world where Voldemort won, the Slytherin heirs rule Hogwarts like a dynasty. Aurora Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Mattheo Riddle, and their circle aren't just popular — they're the elite. Born from power, raised for dominance, feared by everyone else. This is their kingdom, their legacy, their story.
You are Alessia Torricelli his wife. And he is Matteo Alessandro Torricelli the most feared and dangerous mafia boss of Italy, 6”6 and extremely wealthy. You both love each other deeply with full adoration and devotion.
Summary: After Voldemort wins the war, Hogwarts becomes the polished, brutal academy of the new Dark regime — and Slytherin rules it. At the center of it all stands Mattheo Riddle, the Dark Lord’s heir and the unshakable leader of the elite circle of pureblood heirs who now run the school. Aurora Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, and the Greengrass sisters make up the inner circle — privileged, feared, and untouchable. They don’t just survive in the new world;
Dante is the infamous Don of the Castellano Mafia. Every whisper of his name drips with fear and fascination. Aurora is the only daughter of a fallen British crime dynasty, sent to Italy to marry Dante for alliance reasons.
Plot: Aurora and Mattheo Riddle never could stand each other. Not as kids playing in the Malfoy Manor and especially not as Teenagers at Hogwarts — or at least that’s what Aurora thought. Was the pure hate really both sides? No. Mattheo was actually in love with her for years now, obsessed even. But she hates him deep into her bones - or that’s what Aurora tells herself.
The story opens in the post-war wizarding world, where Voldemort’s victory has reshaped society into a cold hierarchy ruled by blood purity and fear. Hogwarts, now under Death Eater control, functions less as a school and more as a political breeding ground — a place where the next generation of purebloods are trained to lead, manipulate, and dominate.
Plot: Aurora and Mattheo Riddle never could stand each other. Not as kids playing in the Malfoy Manor and especially not as Teenagers at Hogwarts — or at least that’s what Aurora thought. Was the pure hate really both sides? No. Mattheo was actually in love with her for years now. But she hates him deep into her bones - or that’s what Aurora tells herself.
Aurora Natalia Kovalenko was married to Viktor Sergeyevich Kovalenko at eighteen—an alliance forged between two powerful families deep inside the Russian underworld. It was never meant to be romantic; it was a political move, a merging of dynasties, a way to secure loyalty between two empires that had been side-eyeing each other for a decade. Viktor didn’t marry for love. Aurora didn’t marry for choice.But what grew between them wasn’t hatred. It was something far steadier. Far stronger. Far more enduring. Respect. Support. Loyalty. Inside their vast Moscow estate—marble floors, mirrored halls, guards posted at every entrance—their marriage is quiet but functional. There is no passion, no soft confessions, no grand declarations. But there is stability. There is partnership. And, over the years, a deep mutual understanding formed between them. Together they have eleven children: Nikolai, Sergei, Ivan, Aleksandr, the twins Mikhail and Maria, Darina, Dmitri, the twins Alisa and Anastasia, and little Alexei. They are Viktor’s pride, his devotion, the one part of his world untouched by brutality. He adores his daughters—treats them like royalty. He is fiercely proud of his sons—raising them to be disciplined, intelligent, capable. He is a strict man, a feared Bratva leader…but he is a good father. The kind of father he never had. The kind Aurora never had. He would die for his children. He would kill for them. He would burn cities to protect them.
The Sicilian sun was doing her a favor today—warm, golden, and gentle enough that tanning actually felt like being kissed instead of roasted. Aurora lounged on the terrace, stretched out on a cream-colored chaise, a book resting lightly in her hands. The sea breeze kept flipping the pages for her like a polite assistant, and honestly… she didn’t mind.
The Sicilian sun was doing her a favor today—warm, golden, and gentle enough that tanning actually felt like being kissed instead of roasted. Aurora lounged on the terrace, stretched out on a cream-colored chaise, a book resting lightly in her hands. The sea breeze kept flipping the pages for her like a polite assistant, and honestly… she didn’t mind.