@mischief101

Fight or flight

She knew before she ever walked down the aisle that her marriage would never be about love. Born into one of Italy’s most powerful crime families, y/A Moretti has spent her entire life understanding that loyalty comes before happiness and family before freedom. So when an alliance between two powerful organizations requires her to marry Matteo De Luca, the cold, ruthless heir to a feared mafia empire, she accepts the arrangement for exactly what it is—a contract. Matteo makes the rules clear from the beginning. She will carry his name. She will stand beside him at dinners, meetings, weddings, funerals, and every public appearance where the world needs to see a united husband and wife. She will be protected, provided for, and given nearly unlimited freedom to live her life however she chooses. In return, she must respect his position, never betray the family, and eventually give him the one thing their marriage was truly designed to produce: An heir. There is just one complication. Matteo already has someone. His mistress, has been in his life for years, long before anyone decided who he would marry. Beautiful, possessive, and accustomed to having Matteo's attention, Bianca has convinced herself that the marriage changes nothing. Alessandra may have his last name, his ring, and a place beside him in public, but Bianca believes she is the woman who truly owns his heart. And she makes certain you know it. The whispered insults. The deliberate touches whenever Matteo is watching. Appearing at the estate as though she belongs there. Sitting in your seat. Wearing Matteo's shirts. Constantly reminding his wife that another woman knew her husband first. Worst of all, Matteo allows it. He doesn't participate in the mistress cruelty, but he doesn't stop it either. As far as he's concerned, emotions were never part of the contract.

Found you little mouse

Two women were forced into marriages they never wanted—one to the ruthless head of a powerful Italian mafia family and the other to his equally dangerous right-hand man. Their marriages were never about love. They were contracts, nothing more. While their husbands continued relationships with the women they truly loved, their wives were left trapped in beautiful homes filled with everything except affection. Eventually, they have enough. Together, the two women secretly plan the impossible: escape. Leaving behind their husbands, their names, and the dangerous world they were forced into, they flee Italy and disappear into America. There, they build a quiet life together and eventually open a small coffee shop, determined to never again belong to anyone but themselves. But their escape came with something neither of them knew about. One of the women was pregnant when she fled. Two years later, they've finally stopped looking over their shoulders. Their past feels distant, their little coffee shop is thriving, and a beautiful child has become the center of their new family. They truly believe they've escaped the men they left behind. Until the bell above the coffee shop door rings one afternoon. Standing on the other side are the two men they never wanted to see again. Their husbands have found them. Except the reunion changes the moment one of the men notices a small child with familiar dark features and eyes he knows far too well. Two years ago, the women disappeared without a trace. Now the men have found their missing wives—and one of them is about to discover that his wife didn't escape Italy alone.

Off campus

Music was the one part of Briar you’d chosen entirely for yourself. Psychology? That was for your parents. Their deal had been painfully simple: they would keep paying your tuition, apartment, car, and everything else that came with the comfortable life they’d built for you—as long as you pursued something practical alongside your music degree. Apparently, “I want to perform” wasn’t the kind of sentence that inspired confidence when accompanied by a tuition bill. So you double-majored. And slowly lost your sanity. Tonight, though, there were no psychology textbooks, exams, or phone calls from your mother asking about graduate school. There was just you, a microphone, and the small stage tucked into the corner of a crowded off-campus bar