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"I'll make that arrogant mouth of yours suck my cock and teach you to politely say 'please' before begging me to fuck you." *** I used to be the princess of a mafia boss. My father was killed in an attack, and my uncle seized power. My mother and I were left in a dire situation. Six months later, my mother remarried the most powerful mafia boss on the East Coast. I never imagined I would have a stepbrother. When my mother told me he was charming, smart, and strong, I scoffed, because I despised all men—they were childish, rude, and boring. But the moment I saw my stepbrother, I regretted my thoughts.
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Possessed by My Mafia Stepbrother Chapter 5: Dante And Valentina
Dante’s POVFor the first time in years, I let myself entertain a dangerous thought.What if my mother was still alive?The possibility crept in like a thief in the night, stealing my focus and unraveling every belief I had cemented since her death. For years, her absence had been a void I couldn’t fill, a scar I didn’t let anyone touch. And now, with these offshore accounts moving money under her name, the thought of her alive and hiding somewhere felt both impossible and achingly real.“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Matteo said, his tone wary. He sat behind his desk, his sharp eyes fixed on me as if trying to read the chaos swirling in my head.I leaned forward, gripping the edge of the desk. “Could she be alive?” I asked, my voice low, almost desperate.Matteo’s expression softened briefly, but then he shook his head. “No, Dante. She’s gone. You and I both know that.”“How can you be so sure?” I demanded. “Those accounts—they’ve been active for 18 years. Money doesn’t just mo
Last Updated : 2025-01-09Possessed by My Mafia Stepbrother Chapter 4: Dante
The Devil’s Forge was more than just a bar; it was a sanctuary. A place where loyalty was currency, and trust wasn’t a luxury but a necessity. Tonight, the familiar hum of laughter, the clink of glasses, and the low growl of motorcycles outside did little to ease the storm brewing in my head.I slid onto a stool near the bar, signaling for a drink. Around me, the usual faces filled the room—men and women who’d ridden with me for years, who’d bled and fought beside me. This wasn’t just a club; it was my family.But even here, the weight of my father’s words clung to me like a second skin.Lorenzo wanted me back. Not as his son but as his asset. His tool. And the worst part? A small, insidious part of me wanted to take the bait—not for him, but for the answers he might hold.The bartender slid a glass of whiskey in front of me. I downed it in one go, the burn in my throat doing little to dull the edge of my frustration.From the corner of my eye, I saw Matteo watching me. My uncle had a
Last Updated : 2025-01-09Possessed by My Mafia Stepbrother Chapter 3: Dante And Valentina
Dante’s POVWalking back into the Marino mansion felt like stepping into a cage. The walls, the chandeliers, the gilded mirrors—they all radiated the same cold opulence that had suffocated me for years. But it wasn’t just the place; it was the man standing in the center of it all.My father.He barely glanced at me as I strode through the room, his dark gaze assessing me like I was an item on a checklist. His expression hardened when his eyes landed on my motorcycle boots, the worn leather jacket slung over my shoulder, and the tattoos peeking out from under the rolled-up sleeves of my shirt.“Still dressing like a drifter, I see,” he said, his voice low and disdainful.I shrugged, unbothered. “Still trying to dress like a king?”His jaw tightened, but he didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he straightened his already perfect tie and gestured toward the two women standing a few feet away.“Your stepmother and stepsister,” he said, his tone perfunctory.I already knew who they were. Of c
Last Updated : 2025-01-09Possessed by My Mafia Stepbrother Chapter 2: Dante
When the message from my father came through, I didn’t go home. I didn’t pack my things, didn’t pause to think it over. Instead, I pointed my bike toward the only place that ever felt close to home anymore: the bar.The Devil’s Forge wasn’t just a bar; it was the heartbeat of my motorcycle club, a chaotic mix of roaring laughter, clinking glasses, and the metallic hum of motorcycles lined up outside like sentinels. Inside, the air reeked of spilled beer, leather, and faintly of motor oil. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was real. The kind of place where lies didn’t last long, and loyalties were etched in blood and grease.I pushed through the door, the familiar creak of wood and the low murmur of voices grounding me. My uncle, Matteo, sat at his usual table in the corner. He leaned back in his chair, a cigarette dangling between his fingers, his graying beard scruffy but neatly trimmed. He saw me before I reached him, lifting his drink in a silent greeting.“You look like hell,” Matteo sa
Last Updated : 2025-01-09Possessed by My Mafia Stepbrother Chapter 1: Valentina
I used to be my father’s most beloved daughter. His pride and joy, his shadow, the one he whispered his secrets to late at night when he thought the world was asleep. He’d ruffle my hair, call me his little warrior, and promise me the world. But promises mean nothing when they’re buried with the dead.After his death, my mother and I found ourselves trapped in a nightmare we couldn’t escape. My uncle—my father’s supposed right-hand man—took over everything. The house, the gang, the power. And us. He wasn’t content with just my father’s legacy; he wanted to break the pieces left behind. He wanted us to be obedient, silent.Bruises bloomed on my body like sinister flowers. My arms, my ribs, even my face on the worst days. He always made sure to strike in places I could hide with long sleeves and sunglasses, but I wore those bruises like armor. His public façade was one of benevolence, a grieving brother stepping in to hold things together. But behind closed doors, he was a monster.One
Last Updated : 2025-01-09
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Chapter 1: Valentina
I used to be my father’s most beloved daughter. His pride and joy, his shadow, the one he whispered his secrets to late at night when he thought the world was asleep. He’d ruffle my hair, call me his little warrior, and promise me the world. But promises mean nothing when they’re buried with the dead.After his death, my mother and I found ourselves trapped in a nightmare we couldn’t escape. My uncle—my father’s supposed right-hand man—took over everything. The house, the gang, the power. And us. He wasn’t content with just my father’s legacy; he wanted to break the pieces left behind. He wanted us to be obedient, silent.Bruises bloomed on my body like sinister flowers. My arms, my ribs, even my face on the worst days. He always made sure to strike in places I could hide with long sleeves and sunglasses, but I wore those bruises like armor. His public façade was one of benevolence, a grieving brother stepping in to hold things together. But behind closed doors, he was a monster.One ...
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