Every Mafia's Favorite Girl

Ariana Lombardi is many things to Borgata's underworld.

A debt-ridden socialite.

A drug addict.

A total disgrace of an heiress to a dying mafia family.

One day, Ariana wakes up, and her soul is gone. Dead from an overdose, Ariana is replaced by Aren—an eighteen-year-old mercenary who died sacrificing herself for her squad.

Now trapped inside the body of Borgata's most infamous heiress, Aren finds herself at the center of a collapsing empire just as rival Houses move to tear House Lombardi apart over a $500 million debt.

To survive, Aren does the only things she knows how to do.

Complete contracts.

Protect assets.

Eliminate threats.

Simple.

Unfortunately, the four most dangerous men in Borgata have become deeply interested in her.

Caio Sartori demands her at his side.

Jeremiah Castellano wants to collect her like a masterpiece.

Jordan Marchetti looks ready to burn the city down just to see her smile.

And Isidore Accardi has already calculated she is worth more than every offer placed on the table.

Meanwhile, Aren is busy eating cupcakes.

She thinks they want to hire her.

They don't.

─── EXCERPT ───

[Warning: Mature Content]

“Aren.”

Caio looked up at her.

“You can touch my hair if you want.”

Aren hesitated only briefly. For a long time, she had wanted to touch his hair, curious about the softness of those dark strands.

Tentatively, she threaded her fingers through it.

The moment he sucked more firmly at her nipple, those small fingers tightened before she could stop herself.

Every gentle tug sent a jolt straight through Caio, making his cock twitch painfully beneath his trousers.

When her back arched, pressing her more fully into his mouth, the urge to tear away the rest of her clothes and abandon every ounce of restraint surged through him so violently he had to stop and breathe through it.

Gradually, he worked his way upward, trailing warm kisses along her neck before lightly sucking at the sensitive skin below her ear.

Aren noticed the shift immediately. He was retreating, pulling away from the relentless attention he had been lavishing on her breasts.

“Caio?” she asked softly.

Caio didn't answer right away.

He grazed his teeth along the line of her jaw, delivering a slow, maddening tease.

“I'm sorry,” he murmured against her skin. “If I keep going... I don't think I'll be able to hold myself back.”

Aren blinked.

“Hold yourself back?”

“I'm supposed to take things slow with you,” he forced out. “The way this is going... I...”

He couldn't bring himself to finish.

The rest remained trapped behind his teeth.

'I'm going to tear the rest of your clothes off and bend you over and tie you up against the bed frame and fuck you until you can't walk properly anymore, and then I'm going to spend the rest of my life regretting that I rushed you.'

There was no world in which he could say those thoughts aloud.