Monkey D Mikasa Novels & Stories

I gave Julian Marchetti thirty years of my life after the war ended. I built his empire, raised his children, and held the family together behind the scenes. But when he died, his will didn’t even mention my name. Half his fortune went to our children. The other half went to Lydia Carter, the daughter of the man who’d saved his life in Normandy. The same Lydia who’d stolen my identity.The same Lydia who’d built her entire life on the ruins of mine. All he left me was a single note, scrawled in his familiar handwriting. I loved you. We had thirty good years. But I owe Lydia. This is the least I can do. I dropped dead of a heart attack right there in his study, clutching that pathetic piece of paper. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn in 1945, when the war had just ended This time I will not swallow my anger and suffer in silence; I will fight back. And I will take back every single thing that is rightfully mine.

My aunt says I don’t belong at Blackthorn University. That girls like me don’t earn scholarships without giving something in return. I told myself I’d prove her wrong, that I'd keep my head down, follow the rules, and survive. But at a school like this, rumours spread faster than truth and now I’m one accusation away from losing everything. So when Adrian Laurent offers me a way out, I say yes. Even though everyone at Blackthorn knows one thing about him: Nothing he does is ever harmless.

My name is Clara Kelly. I was born in Brooklyn, into an Irish-American cop’s family. My father spent his whole career walking a beat out of the 84th Precinct. My mother volunteered at the parish. I was the first girl on our block to get into Columbia Law. The year I graduated, I was volunteering at a charity gala. I picked up the wrong glass of wine and ended up dumping it down the front of a man’s Brioni suit. That man was Adrian Francesco Moretti. Fourth-generation Don of the Moretti Family of New York, and one of the five families of Cosa Nostra. He chased me for four years. I said no six times. The seventh time, he stood outside my law firm in the rain until three-fifteen in the morning. I married him. Two decades in, he’d handed me the keys to the entire Moretti Family. In our world they called me “the Irish Donna,” a woman with no Italian blood who somehow held the seat. Childless by choice, the two of us. Famously in love. Until that Wednesday afternoon, when my college roommate of twenty years, my best friend Vivian Sinclair, walked into my living room with a five-year-old boy. She said the boy was Adrian’s son. She said that five years ago, she’d taken a used condom out of the wastebasket in my upstairs master bedroom, kept it frozen for three years, and done IVF. She said she was the real mother of the Moretti heir. She was the real Donna Moretti. “Be smart. Pack your bags and walk out. You might even get to keep your life.” “You’re barren. The Moretti Family doesn’t need you.” I looked at the woman I’d called my best friend for half my adult life. I didn’t say a word. She thought she was holding the winning card. What she didn’t know was that she’d just stepped onto a board Adrian and I had been laying for twenty years. I needed exactly one sentence to shatter every piece of the Donna fantasy she’d spent five years building.

The day someone told me I was legitimate blood of the Mafia family, I went from being the Don's daughter's personal maid to being the Don's daughter myself. Three days after they brought me home to the family estate, I went looking for Luciano, the man I'd secretly married, and found him in the study, talking to Don Moretti. "Nina is obedient. She wouldn't dare utter a word even when bullied. She is the perfect person to take the fall for Avery at that bloody party and she won't crack." "Good, Luciano. You think of everything! She's nobody — a street girl. She walks into that bloodbath and dies, nobody's going to miss her. Let her go. Avery's waiting for you to make underboss first, then we do the wedding proper." I stumbled back three steps. My heel hit the marble floor and the pain shot straight up my leg, but it was nothing compared to what just exploded in my chest. I wasn't Don Moretti's real blood. And the man who had sworn his life to me, my own husband, was planning to send me into that slaughterhouse so he could marry the Don's actual daughter. I'd already heard what happened to the last stand-in at one of those events. Shot to pieces. That news drove into my spine like an ice pick. But what they didn't know, what I'd only just found out, was this: My brother, who'd been missing for years, was the highest power in the Cosa Nostra. The one they called the Shadow King.

"Strip." "What?" "I said you should strip... You've lost your courage so fast?" Mavis stutters, colour flooding her cheeks. He takes a step further, coming to stand right behind her. he pushes her hair to one side, leaving her left shoulder bare save for the strap of the flimsy red dress. With a deep inhale, he picks the one strap and tugs on it until it slides down her arm, loose. "I am paying you Ten Million Dollars, I should at least have some fun." When the tip of his fingers touch her skin again, it slides dangerously close to her cleavage, and maybe, just maybe, she'd like to have his palms cup her breasts the same way they'd done all those years ago. ********************* It took Seven whole years for her to reappear in his world, and when she did, she did not come alone. She'd had a baby for him seven years before, and that jewel is on the edge of death... For the same child, she'd decided to grovel or worship him and do whatever he wants for a week, just like all those years before. Nothing could possibly go wrong, right? This time, she thinks she can run from Lance Wesker? with the child that looks suspiciously like him? And worst of all, now knowing that Lance Wesker is not a nobody... He is not just the World's Most Eligible Bachelor, he is also her best friend's Elder Brother? Things are about to unravel in the best and messiest way possible, because with Lance and Mavis, nothing is ever going the right way!

At 7am on the dot my alarm rings on my nightstand. After a brief moment of irritation I sprung out of bed to get ready for school. While brushing my long curly ember hair my phone dings incessantly on the bathroom counter. After picking up the phone the dread I already felt in my heart was amplified. It was my best friend Jesse wishing me a happy birthday but I for the life of me couldn’t understand what an 18 year old girl had to be happy about. When a woman turns 18 she is mated for life, she’d be made to quit school, produce children and satisfy their mates every need and urge. That’s all a woman was good for in this town and I’d be damned if I was going to sit down and shut up about it. After ignoring Jesse I finished dressing and strolled down stairs where my mother and father were still having their morning meeting with their subordinates. Alfa John and Luna Kate or not, I’d doubt they’d even notice I was leaving if I hadn’t slammed the door on my way out. I wonder if they were disappointed by my lack of interest of the ways of the pack or if they were just disappointed I didn’t have a penis between my legs. Regardless, I have no intention on going to my mating ball tonight. My parents have invited every male in our pack but there’s no way I was going without a fight! As I lift my fingers from the door handle I come to an abrupt stop eye to eye with my fathers beta Josh. In a low growl all I hear is “You didn’t think you could actually leave did you?”

i·dol·a·try īˈdälətrē noun : An extreme admiration, love, or reverence for someone. "She was afraid her attraction towards him was increasing to idolatry." UNEDITED

Debt. Betrayal. Auction. Isabella Sterling, a master manipulator in disguise, was sold to Dante Belucci, the notorious and feared Mafia boss. His prize. His captive bride. They thought she was broken. They were wrong. She would use him, his power, his world, to destroy those who betrayed her. By the time he realized her dangerous game, he'd fallen too deep. He'd learn that the woman he owned was far more dangerous than he ever imagined. When Dante looked at her, his heart broken, he asked, "Did you ever love me, Isabella?”

Connor Lopez has experienced slight déjà vu for the first time in his life with someone who's stranger to her--Savannah Greene. Since that one strange night, Connor has been experiencing déjà vu often times than the usual, and it's making him feel like there's something wrong with his mental health. Through Savannah, he learned about the possibility of past lives and parallel universe. On the other hand, Savannah is a student of Multimedia Arts, to which, she keeps on experiencing dreams from someone else's life, and unconsciously painting the face of someone she never really know in the first place.

After the disappearance of her father, Julia Rocco, who was drowning her sorrows in alcohol on her last day in college ends up having a one night stand with Alonzo Luigi, the man she never knew she’d been betrothed to. Their passionate one-night stand takes a sinister turn when Alonzo accuses Julia of stealing something from him during their brief encounter and Julia admits it, knowing she’d be tortured if she attempted to prove her innocence. Now the clock is ticking. Would Julia be able to materialize what Alonzo lost in a few weeks or would Alonzo’s buried past come back to bite them first?