Sicilian Expressions Novels & Stories

Blurb for Four Heirs Claimed On My Babies Elena Romano has been a ghost for five years, vanishing from the brutal mafia world to protect her unborn children. As the daughter of the notorious Romano Don, she knew the dangers that awaited them—three heirs to the most powerful mafia kings. She disappeared without a trace, leaving behind chaos, betrayal, and a deadly secret that could destroy everything. But no one escapes the mafia. A fateful accident reveals Elena's location, drawing back the three men she once loved—each with a claim on her heart and her children. Dante Valenti, the ruthless Italian kingpin; Sasha Ivanov, the cold Bratva lord; and Luca Greco, the shadowy Sicilian enforcer. Each wants their child, each wants her, and all three are willing to tear the world apart to claim what’s theirs. As Elena navigates the deadly game of mafia politics, dangerous secrets from her past resurface. Her children are not just heirs—they are the key to a massive fortune, and whoever controls them, controls the entire criminal underworld. But as the mafia kings close in, a far deadlier enemy reveals himself—a fourth man, more dangerous than them all. The true father of her children, and the mastermind behind her father’s death, has been pulling the strings all along. With the mafia world on the brink of war, Elena must align with the men she’s been running from. But in the end, only one can be king. And this time, the queen will decide.

I'm the daughter of Don Falcone. After I got back from studying abroad, my family threw a welcome-home banquet, conveniently setting me up to meet the fiancé my father had handpicked for me—Santino Moretti. My father praised the guy to the skies in his letters: he was the heir to the Moretti family, elegant, ruthless, drop-dead gorgeous, and holding half the city’s underground operations in the palm of his hand. I arrived at the Elysium Hotel right on the dot. Just as I was about to take a seat, a hand shoved me hard. A woman's shrill voice pierced my ear. "Livia, what's a Sicilian peasant like you doing here? This is the Imperial Suite. Do you think you even deserve to breathe the air in a place like this?" I recognized the woman. It was Bella, a bitch who had always had it out for me back in college. She was clearly trying to humiliate me. Instead of getting mad, I smirked. "Whether I deserve to be here or not—is that for you to decide?" Bella sneered, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm Mr. Santino's personal assistant. Today, Mr. Santino is hosting the eldest daughter of the Falcone family here. This isn't an occasion for bottom-feeding trash like you." "Be smart and crawl back to your slum." I pulled out my phone and dialed my so-called fiancé. I wanted to ask him if it was a tradition in the Moretti family to let their dogs bark at the front door.

The childs gone. The dreams gone. I've become comfortably numb Valentina Lombardi has been through a lifetime of trauma throughout her years. From her absentee, abusive father who's neglected her all her life to her even more abusive legal guardian who's been the one to traumatize her. A trip to what she sees as her second bedroom, the police station, takes a turn of events with a piece of information she receives that changes everything. Zane Marino, leader of the Marino mafia, and Raul Romano, one of his top men. Dead. The two men who've destroyed her are now out of her life, a miracle to her. Now, she's being thrown into the custody of her eight older brothers she never knew she had. Her biological family. Not to mention, her eldest brother who's now her legal guardian, also happens to be the leader of the Sicilian mafia. Her "father's" pure enemy. What happens when she has to learn to deal with the infamous, ruthless Lombardi brothers, the ones she was raised to hate? Marino through adoption and Lombardi by blood. A dangerous mix. Throw trauma, boys, secrets, and utter chaos into the mix. How will it all play out when her inner demon's come to the surface, making everything unravel right under her two feet?

Alexander Petridis: I still have not found my mate in the seven years since my first shift. I nearly gave up, but then I left to build alliances and hopefully find her. Little did I know she'd been under my nose all along. When I see her, though, I'm stunned, not just because she's innocent little Delilah Fayte but because, in my absence, she made a choice I don't know if I can live with. Delilah Fayte: People have always thought I'm this naïve innocent girl. And okay, maybe I am innocent and all that. After my first shift, I didn't actively seek my mate. I had other plans. And sure, my family was against it at first, but mate or not, I wanted to help André and Darren. I didn't think in doing so, I'd alienate my mate and long-time crush, Alexander Petridis. This is the fourth of the Incubi Pack series. You do not need to have read the previous books to enjoy this book, but it is encouraged. The Incubi Pack Series: Book 1 - Alpha of Nightmares Book 2 - The Hybrid Alpha Book 3 - Dream Mate Anthology Short Story - Chosen Mate Anthology Bonus Story - Sicilian Holiday Anthology Short Story - The Quiet Giant's Mate Book 4 - Beta's Innocent Mate

Six years ago, my sister and I fell for the same man, Edmund. But he only had eyes for Rosalie, the sweet, innocent type. With them, I was always the third wheel. They got married, of course. And on their wedding day, I overheard my parents whispering. "The company's strapped for cash," my father said. "What if we marry Corinne off to our business partner? That'd solve our problem..." This "partner" was over fifty and twice divorced. So I ran. I fled to Sicily with the only five thousand dollars to my name. I ran on pure bitterness. In four years, I brought dozens of small-time Sicilian crews to heel and forged my own family: Vexille. In another two, I came back to New York and quietly became the most powerful woman in the North American underworld. By then, Edmund's power was crumbling, hit hard by a rival family. That's when my mother called, her voice full of that same old entitlement. "Your brother-in-law's in some trouble. Figure out a way to help him." Then a text from my sister, Rosalie, dripping with contempt: "Sister, I remember you have a little casino in Sicily, right? So you must know something about that Vexille family." "Edmund needs their help. See what you can dig up." They still don't know. I'm the Don of the Vexille family. I glanced at the schedule my advisor had prepared. Tomorrow, 9:00 AM. A sit-down with some minor family looking for a handout. The name on the file: Edmund.

André D'Amore: I've known my whole life who I am. I'm a hybrid, Alpha heir, and too fabulous to be straight. I've lost count of how many times I've had to fight to defend my . Yet, I never expected to have to defend it from my mate. Not my problem that he's spent his life unaware he was in a closet. He needs to get his act together. Because my papa is naming me Alpha of the pack, we just defeated. And I want my mate at my side. Darren Delaney: I always thought I knew myself. That I knew my wolf, I've always been a soldier, a warrior, and I'm straight. One assignment has me questioning everything. I thought finding my mate would be the happiest day of my life. Instead, it's the most confusing. My mate is the hybrid SON of the Incubi Alpha?! The Goddess got her wires crossed with this pairing. Now I'm questioning my as he's drawing me in like a moth to a flame. This is a sequel to Alpha of Nightmares. Events in this book overlap with events in Alpha of Nightmares. This book can be read as a standalone, though it is encouraged to read Alpha of Nightmares. The Incubi Pack Series: Book 1 - Alpha of Nightmares Book 2 - The Hybrid Alpha Book 3 - Dream Mate Anthology Short Story - Chosen Mate Anthology Bonus Story - Sicilian Holiday Anthology Short Story - The Quiet Giant's Mate Book 4 - Beta's Innocent Mate

My husband dotes on me. He's always saying I'm the one he cherishes most in this life. Everyone else envies me too, saying I married well—pampered like a princess. It all started when I mentioned, offhand, that tailored cuts flatter my figure. From that moment on, he kept it in mind every day, going out of his way to gather all kinds of designer womenswear for me. In the walk-in closet at home, there's always a wardrobe filled exclusively with my new clothes—each piece haute couture, with exquisite fabrics and impeccable craftsmanship. On New Year's Eve in our third year of marriage, the house was lively, packed with relatives chatting and laughing. With a smile, my husband handed me a gift box. "Go on, open your New Year's present." The frustration and resentment I'd been bottling up for so long exploded in an instant. I shoved the box to the floor. "It's the New Year—can you just stop for once?" The moment the words left my mouth, everyone fell silent. The relatives' expressions shifted; one after another, they began to scold me for being ungrateful, for not knowing how lucky I was. My husband looked at me, eyes full of shock and hurt. "I just bought you some pretty clothes. Why are you angry?" Amid their pointing fingers and his wounded questioning, I rushed into the walk-in closet like I'd lost my mind, dragging out those designer clothes and throwing them all over the floor. Everyone stared at me, stunned. No one said another word.

My fiancé, Luca, dragged me along to a party with his crew. We had barely walked through the door before his boys were hounding him to play "Seven Minutes in Heaven." "Angelina, babe, come join us!" Fiona, Luca’s "best friend" from back home, called out to me with a smirk. I shook my head and slipped onto a barstool, my fingers nervously tracing the rim of my glass. I watched them huddle in a circle, drawing cigar bands with names scribbled on them. Luca drew Fiona. They shared a laugh before disappearing into the storage room behind the bar. "Seven minutes! Starting... now!" someone hollered, followed by a chorus of whistles. But seven minutes came and went. The door stayed shut. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty... I finally stood up, my heart hammering against my ribs, ready to see what was going on. Just then, I heard Luca’s friends whispering in a thick Sicilian dialect. "This American guy... her head is greener than a lemon tree in Palermo and she doesn’t even know it." "I bet Luca and Fiona are having the time of their lives in there right now." "Poor Boston girl. Look at her, sitting there like a loyal little dog. Hilarious." I froze. My blood turned to ice, and the air felt too thin to breathe. Suddenly, the storage room door creaked open. Luca walked out, wiping sweat from his brow, followed closely by Fiona, who was busy smoothing out her rumpled shirt. "Whoa, how was it? Seven minutes in heaven live up to the hype?" someone teased. Luca smirked, his eyes glazed with satisfaction. "Better. I didn't want to leave."

My family and I have gone on a road trip. But when I help an old lady to her feet after she suffered from a fall in the rest stop, my wife, Cindy Ford, who has been chatting animatedly with me the whole time, scowls at me instantly. "I never knew you were this underhanded! Just the sight of you disgusts me! Get lost!" Even my eight-year-old daughter, Tessa Hayes, glares at me disdainfully. "I don't want someone like you as my dad!" With an ashen face, Cindy whisks Tessa into the car immediately. Just like that, they abandon me at the rest stop. What I don't expect is that my in-laws actually call me on the phone and insult me as a walking jinx after finding out about the incident. Now, they want Cindy to get a divorce with me as soon as possible. Furious, I return to my childhood home and dump all of my emotional load on my parents. But my parents, who have always doted on me, don't console me at all after they find out I've helped an old lady up. Instead, their expressions go stormy. "How on earth did we end up having a son like you? You should just die already!" My parents kick me out of the house right away. Dazed and disoriented, I end up getting struck and killed by an incoming truck. Even as I breathe my last, I never understand what I've done wrong. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I help the old lady up to her feet.

My twin sister, wanting to be with her thug boyfriend, secretly planned to apply for a junior college. When I could not talk her out of it, I told our parents and managed to stop her. However, just a month into the new semester, her thug boyfriend cheated on her. She left a suicide note, blaming it all on the long distance between them. She wrote that if she had gone to that junior college, her boyfriend would never have cheated. Grief‑stricken, my parents turned all their rage on me. "You wretched girl, this is all your fault for meddling! What business was it of yours which school your sister went to? Even if she didn't go to college, we could still support her. We didn't need your big mouth!" "If it weren't for your spiteful tongue, your sister wouldn't be dead!" "We were cursed to have a vicious, unfilial daughter like you!" They locked me in her room, ordering me to repent. Then they took her ashes on a trip, saying they wanted her to see the beautiful mountains and rivers she never got to visit in life. A month later, they returned from their travels to find me long dead, starved to a withered husk in front of my sister's photo. Their eyes held no grief, no guilt, only a faint, scornful curl of the lips. In their eyes, my death was nothing more than justice served. My broken soul saw their icy expressions, and despairing tears burned my eyes. Then my sister's familiar voice rang out again: "What business is it of yours which school I go to? You're just jealous that I have a boyfriend, aren't you?"