Main Hoon Don Novels & Stories

I married Don Alessandro in secret. The Five Families of Chicago had ruled for generations. And I had married into the most powerful of them. For four years, Alessandro made me promises. One hundred and twelve times. And one hundred and twelve times, he left me standing alone. The first time, his ex‑girlfriend’s father had a heart attack. Alessandro canceled the wedding and stayed with her for three full weeks. The second time, she crashed her Maserati into a fountain in Monaco. Drunk. He flew there overnight and paid off the police chief personally. Every time, right before our wedding, she manufactured another crisis. I begged. I screamed. I put a knife to my own wrist. Alessandro just laughed, pulled the blade from my hand, and fucked me against the nearest wall. “She’s my ex‑girlfriend. You’re my wife. You don't need to be jealous of her.” After the one hundred and twelfth time, I stopped feeling anything. I pushed a piece of agreement in front of him.“Our marriage. Our alliance. Consider it terminated.”

Looking at the bright sun, which is not so bright right now hiding itself to create darkness all around totally makes me think about my present situation. I heard that sound of footsteps entering the room, so I turned around and said, “Hey!” “Don’t start now. You will get your wish soon.” he said removing his coat. “We can’t!” I said, looking at him. “What do you mean? All these days you are asking nothing but for divorce papers. Now they will reach you in a few days for sure. Now why are you saying we can’t?” he asked with a completely blank expression. “I am pregnant!” I mumbled. “What?” he asked, stepping towards me in shock. “I.Am.Pregnant!” I said each word with force and then let the darkness consume me.

I was eight months pregnant, at a charity gala with my husband, Don Massimo, when a rival family hit us. The crowd panicked. I was shoved to the floor, hard. Blood everywhere. Massimo lost his mind, screaming for medics, desperate to save my baby. But when I woke up, they were gone. Both of them. No baby, no Massimo. I remembered the gunfire, Massimo shielding me with his body. A cold dread washed over me. I hauled myself into a wheelchair and raced down the hall. That’s when I heard them—Massimo and the doctor. "Boss, I'm sorry. We did everything we could. The baby… he didn't make it." Tears streamed down my face. They killed my baby. The rival family killed my baby. But his next words shattered my world. "There was only one medical team. I had to make a choice. Bianca… she was carrying my child, too." Massimo sighed, then gave the order. "No one tells Arabella. She'll raise Bianca's son as her own. He will be my only heir." I slapped a hand over my mouth, my vision blurred by tears as I turned away. The man I loved was a lie. Fine. If he wants a war, he'll get one.

On the night of our third anniversary, Killian missed dinner again. Texted me he was working late at the auto shop. I looked at the $5.90 clearance cake on the table. I'd fought a crowd at the grocery store to buy it. I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat. We need to save for a real house in Brooklyn, I told myself. I put the cake in the fridge. I wrapped my cheap coat tight and walked into the cold to deliver late-night takeout for extra cash. I never expected to run into my "poor" husband at a luxury hotel in Manhattan. He stepped out of a Rolls-Royce in a sharp custom suit, tossing hundred-dollar bills to the valet. A hot woman wearing a priceless pigeon-blood ruby followed behind him, hooking his arm. "Killian, it's snowing so hard. Are you really going back to Brooklyn to play house with your naive little peasant wife?" she whined. Killian looked at the cheap, tarnished silver ring on his finger. A hint of softness crossed his cold eyes. "For three years, she worked five jobs a day to pay off the fake debts I made up. She wouldn't even see a doctor when she was sick." "That's enough. She passed my test. Once I deal with the rat in the family, I'll tell her everything. Give her the glory she deserves as my Donna." The woman bit her lip. "What if she finds out you're a Mafia Don and is just after your money? Why not tell her you have a terminal illness—see if she'll drain her savings to save you. Test her one more time…" Killian stayed quiet for a long time. Finally, he nodded. "One last test. After this, I'm giving her the grandest wedding." The freezing wind howled. I gripped the paper takeout bag. Tears rolled down my face without a sound. I am done with this arrogant, lying love.

The day the Thorne family announced our engagement, the New York underworld let out a collective sigh of relief. Because I was set to marry Daemon, the most straitlaced Don in the city, which meant I could no longer be the wild rose who tore up the racetrack. But I resisted with every fiber of my being, finding creative ways to test his limits. During his ten-million-dollar card game with a rival family's Capo, my hand "slipped" and sent a bottle of 1945 Romanee-Conti spilling across the ancient map that outlined their territories, sabotaging the entire negotiation. Daemon, however, just slowly and deliberately wiped the wine from the back of his hand. He didn't even frown as he cleaned up my mess. Then I "accidentally" let my spirited Arabian stallion loose in his immaculately manicured courtyard. The beast went wild, trampling his prize-winning rose garden into mud. But he arrived with his private doctor in tow, crouching before me as his long fingers gently traced the scratch on my arm. "Did the beast hurt you?" Just that one question, and my heart melted completely. "Daemon, I can marry you. But before that, has there ever been another woman who owned your heart?" "I don't share my man. Not in any way." He pointed to his heart, his gaze unwavering as he met my eyes. "Before you, this was empty." After we married, the word on the street in New York's circles of power was this: If you angered Don Thorne, his Donna might plead your case. But if you angered the Donna, you were on your own. Even I began to believe that Daemon, that mountain of ice, would eventually melt for me. Until the day I went to find him, clutching a positive pregnancy test, bursting with joy. Only to hear the family's Consigliere ask him, from the top-floor study, what the best lie he'd ever told was. Daemon chuckled and said casually, "She asked me if anyone had my heart before her." "I told her no."

Running late for work, I had no choice but to call an Uber. As luck would have it, my boss turned out to be my Uber driver. We stared at each other awkwardly. He raised an eyebrow and asked, "Let me guess... running late?" Me: ... Later, he docked my pay. I gave him a one-star review.

My best friend and my husband, Lorenzo Bartoli, fought every time they met. Lorenzo was the Don of the family, while my best friend was his Consigliere. She always fiercely opposed his most ruthless, high-risk decisions. Tempers explode every single time. But there was one rule that they both agreed on without any hesitation. No one was allowed to touch me. Because of them, no one in the city dared to cross me. Until the fifth month of my pregnancy, when I went down to the basement vault to organize Lorenzo's guns for him. I opened the safe to see stacks of letters, hundreds of them, all unsent. I picked one up. The moment I opened the letter, cold dread overwhelmed me. The receiver of the letter wasn't me. [My dearest Sofia…] I quickly scanned downward to the final lines of the letter. [If I don't make it back alive, everything in the Swissie accounts goes to you. As for Vittoria, she's a good woman, but I have never loved her.] With trembling hands, I tore open the rest of the letters like a hysterical woman. Three hundred of them in total. Every single one was addressed to Sofia Finzi. Sofia was not a stranger. She was my best friend.

He’s even more attractive up close, my nostrils are invaded with his expensive scent and sex appeal. My knees grow week in my seven inches platform heels. His perfect brow raised. “Did I not request for a private session?” My daze was broken as I blushed in embarrassment of literally eye fucking this man. I nodded slowly and cleared my throat. “There’s a no touching rule, sir.” I state breathlessly. He stared down at me intensely with a slight smirk on his full lips. “Go on.” ******** Yanna has been stripping for a year to pay off medical bills, unknown to her that she is the daughter to the former don of the Italian mafia. An unexpected private session with a mysterious man, changes the course of her life as he is none other than Enzo Bernadi, the current don of the italian mafia who had been promised a wife by the former don. What happens as she is forced to wed Enzo and has to adjust to the life a mafia don's wife. Expect thrilling plot twist, action, betrayals and most importantly, the steamy romance that'll brew due to their force proximity. *Expect mature scenes*

"Marry him, Valentina. Or watch Klaus bleed out on this floor." My father's words were ice in my veins. I had defied Don Moretti a hundred times his cold eyes, his iron grip on everything I loved. But this time, Klaus was on his knees with a gun to his head, and love was no longer a luxury I could afford. Valentina Greco is fierce, reckless and unapologetically herself the rebellious daughter of a powerful mafia boss who wants nothing more than to choose her own fate. But fate in the mafia world is rarely yours to choose. Don Luca Moretti is ruthless, commanding and dangerously possessive. He wants Valentina and what the Don wants, he takes. I saved Klaus the only way I could. I married his enemy. I shared his bed. And I carried a secret that could burn everything to the ground because the son Moretti calls his own has another man's blood running through his veins. For years I've buried it. Survived it. Then Klaus returned powerful, dangerous and hungry to reclaim what was stolen from him. Now I'm caught between the Don who owns my name and the man who owns my heart. How long before one of them discovers the truth about Viktor?  

“Take off your clothes, Ms. Hadley,” “What?” Esme's eyes widened, hearing the mafia don, Luka Salvino. Her cruel boss was supposed to punish her for defying his order but here he was horny for her…. again. The devil before her smirked. “You are my personal assistant here, remember?” He spoke out while loosening his collar. His eyes shamelessly roamed all over her body. “So now I need you to assist me with something extremely personal,” he started opening the buttons of his shirt. Esme's heartbeat accelerated because she knew what kind of sinful assistance he was asking from her and how forbidden it was in his office. “Mr. Salvino, we can't…..” “Get here, woman ... ,” the mafia don growled, making her swallow. ……… Luka Salvino, the cruel mafia don, had always gotten what he wanted. Be it money, power, pleasure or anything, but it was until, his eyes fell on his precious new maid and a single mother, Esme Hadley, who gave him the taste of defiance, denial and disobedience, which infuriated him but at the same time, it made the mafia don crave his precious maid even more to the extent that he broke all the boundaries of madness just to make her as his. But what Luka Salvino didn't know was that his innocent maid was hiding a deep secret from him…that he was the father of her four years old daughter, Elea, and Luka was not even aware of this. So what would happen the moment when the mafia don would find out that he was the biological father of his maid's daughter and she had been keeping his own blood hidden from him for the past five years? Would the Mafia Don forgive her or his desires for her would turn into something more dangerous and diabolic?