Was there a part that bored or that you didn't really like in the book?

Even a character, a scene, or anything. You could say no if nothing bothered you.

Which was the part you liked most in the book?

Even a character, a scene, or anything that you enjoyed.

I prefer mafia series where… *

• Each book fully stands alone
• There is one big connected plot across all books even if the MCs are different (like same family; same antagonist who dies in the end; etc.)

Which ending do you prefer? *

• Full happy ending, no cliffhanger
• Couple HEA but bigger family war continues

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Nico

Two Months Later…

Would it be wrong to kill my father-in-law on my wedding day?

I stand at the edge of the dance floor, whiskey in hand, watching Massimo twirl my wife under the soft lights. She’s smiling, small, polite, but real enough.

Their relationship hasn’t magically healed, but it’s… better. He knows now that if he ever lays a hand on her or her sisters again, I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in his head.

Still, seeing his hands on her makes my jaw tighten.

She’s my wife now.

We said our vows a few hours ago in front of family, allies, and enemies alike. And she became mine in every way that matters. Mrs. Eleonora Lombardi.

I never thought I’d see this day. Marriage was never in the cards for me. Love? Even less. Before her, my life was blood, power, and endless nights of building an empire from nothing. Killing, fighting, expanding territory. That was all I had. All I needed.

Until her. She changed everything.

I watch her laugh at something her father says, and my chest tightens with something warm and foreign.

She’s more relaxed now. Knowing her sisters are safe has taken some of the weight off her shoulders.

But right now, I don’t care about anything but having my wife back in my arms.

Eleonora glances over at me mid-turn, and our eyes lock. She gives me a soft smile.

She’s mine now. Legally. Publicly. Permanently.

I didn’t know how empty my life was until she crashed into it. How cold and meaningless everything felt.

She gave me a reason to come home. A reason to look forward to tomorrow. A reason to want more than power and blood.

Marco, my best man, walks up beside me, drink in hand, and lets out a low chuckle.

“Why does it look like you’re about to murder your father-in-law right now?”

I don’t take my eyes off the dance floor. “Because I am considering it.”

He laughs again, shaking his head. “Hold on a little longer, man. Your wife will be back in your arms in a minute.”

The song ends. Massimo releases her, and I don’t wait another second. I set my glass down and walk straight onto the dance floor.

Eleonora meets me halfway, slipping into my arms. I pull her close, one hand on her waist, the other threading through her fingers.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Better now,” I murmur against her temple.

“My father wanted another dance,” she says.

“It’s a good thing I saved you then.”

She tilts her head, giving me that look I love. “Did I need saving, or did you just want me to yourself?”

I smirk, leaning down to brush my mouth against her ear. “Glad you know me so well Mrs. Lombardi.”

For the past week, she decided we needed to be “celibate” until the wedding night. Some tradition about purity or waiting or whatever the hell she called it. I didn’t understand it then and I still don’t. But I agreed because I love her, and whatever she wants, she gets.

It’s been a week of pure torture. No waking up with her warm body pressed against mine. No falling asleep buried inside her. No touching her the way I crave.

Seven days of hell. I’ve been hard and frustrated and counting down every single hour.

Now she’s my wife. And I’m done waiting.

I take her hand and start leading her off the dance floor. She laughs, tugging lightly. “Nico, the song hasn’t even ended.”

“Fuck the song we’re leaving.”

“We haven’t cut the cake yet—”

“Fuck the cake,” I growl, pulling her faster.

She’s still laughing as I lift her into my arms and carry her toward the private elevator that leads up to the bridal suite. Her arms wrap around my neck, her face buried against my shoulder as guests watch us with knowing smiles, some laughing and cheering.

The second the elevator doors close, I’m on her.

My mouth crashes down on hers, hungry and desperate. She moans into the kiss, fingers threading through my hair as I press her against the wall.

The ride up feels endless. By the time we reach the suite, I’m already rock hard and aching for her.

I kick the door shut behind us and set her down just long enough to unzip her wedding dress. It pools at her feet in a whisper of white silk, revealing what she’s wearing underneath.

Fuck me.

She’s in pure white lace lingerie, a delicate corset-style bra that pushes her breasts up beautifully, matching panties, and a garter belt with sheer stockings clipped to it. She looks like sin and heaven wrapped in one.

I groan, drinking in the sight of her. “You’re so fucking beautiful. I’ll never get tired of seeing you like this. Never.”

I drop to my knees, hook my fingers into the garter, and slowly pull it down her leg with my teeth. She shivers, hands in my hair. I kiss my way up her thigh, then bury my face between her legs, licking her through the lace until she’s moaning and trembling.

“Nico… we should go back down…”

I pull her panties aside and drag my tongue through her soaked folds. “They can wait.”

I devour her. Licking, sucking, fucking her with my tongue until her legs shake and she’s crying out my name.

Only then do I stand up, unzip my trousers, and free my aching cock.

I don’t even fully undress. I lift her, wrap her legs around my waist, and thrust into her in one deep stroke.

We both moan loudly. She’s so wet, so tight, so perfect. I fuck her hard against the wall, deep and relentless, days of built-up need pouring out of me.

“I love you,” she gasps, nails digging into my shoulders as she comes hard around me, clenching and pulsing.

“I love you Eleonora,” I growl against her mouth, kissing her fiercely as I thrust deep one last time and come inside her, filling her completely.

We stay like that for a long moment, breathing hard, foreheads pressed together.

She starts laughing softly, still wrapped around me.

“What’s funny?” I ask, kissing her neck.

“The guests… they’re probably wondering where we went.”

I smirk, carrying her toward the bed without pulling out.

“I’m sure they have a good guess of what we’re doing,” I murmur, laying her down and kissing her again.

And as I start moving inside her again, slow and deep this time, I know this is exactly where I’m meant to be.

With her. Always.