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Trapped By The Mafia King's Secret Obsession Novel Cover

Trapped By The Mafia King's Secret Obsession

8.5 / 10.0
To pay off her late father's mafia blood debt, she takes a lethal job: impersonating a cloistered Mafia Princess at an arranged marriage meeting. Across the table sits Felix Falcone, the terrifying Underboss—and the boy she secretly loved for three years. He doesn't recognize her, so she plays the perfect fake bride—until her treacherous memory betrays her, revealing intimate details about his habits. Instead of executing her, Felix uncovers her true identity, and his cold indifference turns into obsessive possessiveness. He cancels his mafia marriage, traps her in his corporate empire as his exclusive secretary, and threatens any man who looks at her. Why does the ruthless predator who once despised her now hunt her with dark devotion?

Trapped By The Mafia King's Secret Obsession Chapter 1

To pay off my late father’s ruinous mafia blood debt, I took a lethal job: acting as a body double for a cloistered Mafia Princess in an arranged marriage meeting.

But the man sitting across the polished table was Felix Falcone, the terrifying Underboss—and the boy I secretly loved for three years at our academy.

He didn’t recognize me. To him, I was just a pawn for territory. I swallowed my bitter heartbreak, remembering how he once threw my handmade graduation pastries into the trash without a second glance. I tried to play the perfect fake bride, but my treacherous memory betrayed me. I accidentally revealed intimate details about his habits, from his hatred of dark chocolate to the exact make of his tactical pen. My cover was blown. But instead of executing me for the deception, Felix discovered my true identity. His cold indifference instantly morphed into a terrifying, obsessive possessiveness. He abruptly canceled his mafia marriage, trapped me in his corporate empire as his exclusive secretary, and ruthlessly threatened any man who dared to look at me.

I was completely suffocated and confused. Why was this ruthless predator—a man who once publicly despised me and viewed unions only as tools for absolute power—now hunting me with such dark, unyielding devotion?

Trapped in the shadows of his armored SUV, he leaned in, his scent of cedar and danger wrapping around me as he sent a message demanding my complete surrender. Knowing I could no longer hide, I made my choice and hit send.

“There is no need for a hunt, Felix. I surrender.”

Chapter 1

Cece POV

I was staring blindly at the gilt lettering of a menu in a heavily guarded private club when a low vibration started against the flesh of my thigh. It was a message from the real Mafia Princess: *Ask the Underboss about the one face he could never erase from his memory at the academy, or I pull your hazard pay and leave you to his executioners.*

I swallowed against the cold knot of dread forming in my throat and locked the phone screen.

My name is Cecelia Rossi. I've been out of the academy for three years, drowning in a blood debt so vast it felt like a physical weight on my chest—my late father's parting gift. He was a man of small consequence, a low-level associate who crossed the wrong people, and I'm the one paying for his sins.

That's exactly why I'm sitting in this hushed VIP room, pretending to be Gianna Vitiello, the sheltered daughter of a high-ranking Capo. I'm a body double. A decoy bride sent into the lion's den to test the waters for an arranged marriage written in blood.

And the man across the expanse of polished mahogany is Felix Falcone.

He's the Underboss and sole heir to the Falcone Famiglia—a man who rules this city's underbelly with absolute authority built on a mountain of broken bones and silenced enemies. God help me, he's also the boy whose shadow I quietly traced for three agonizing years at our elite private academy.

Felix leaned back in his deep leather chair, wearing a dark, impeccably tailored suit that hugged the broad lines of his shoulders. His presence seemed to alter the density of the air, making every breath a conscious effort. He was lethal, perfectly composed, and completely distant.

And he didn't recognize me.

When we'd shaken hands earlier, his grip had been firm and cold. He'd looked right through me, his dark eyes seeing only the coddled Mafia Princess I was hired to play. A twisted relief washed over me—if he knew who I really was, I'd already be dead. But beneath that survival instinct, a hollow disappointment settled deep in my chest. I was entirely forgettable to him.

Though, to be fair, Gianna's stylist had worked me over for two hours before this meeting. My usually unremarkable hair was sculpted into something sleek and severe. The makeup was heavy—smoky eyes, a blood-red lip. Even I hadn't recognized myself in the mirror. Gianna had smirked and said the transformation was "necessary camouflage." I looked the part of a Mafia Princess. I looked nothing like the quiet academy ghost Felix had ignored for three years.

"How much do you know about me, Gianna?" he asked, his voice cleaving the dense quiet. A low, dangerous rumble that seemed to vibrate against my skin.

"I know enough," I lied smoothly, lifting my chin to match his arrogance.

In reality, my traitorous memory had conjured every detail of him with unwelcome clarity. I knew he took his coffee black. I knew he hated spicy food. I knew he had a borderline obsessive need for cleanliness. I even knew the exact brand of the tactical steel pen he used to carry in his breast pocket.

"What's your stance on this arrangement?" I asked, forcing my voice steady.

"I'm seriously looking to marry," he stated coldly, his gaze unblinking. "Not out of duty—because it serves my empire. It consolidates the Family's power. I take what's mine, and I maintain my arrangements with brutal efficiency."

A dull, bitter pressure built behind my sternum. I pushed my leather-bound menu back across the table.

"I have no further questions, Underboss," I said, folding my hands in my lap to still their trembling.

As if summoned, a waiter stepped into the private room and bowed deeply. "May I take your order, signorina?"

I opened my mouth, already tasting the bitter chocolate that would momentarily drown the ash on my tongue—and stopped. The menu trembled, imperceptibly, between my fingers. Dark chocolate. His least favorite thing in the world. That had been too close. The exhaustion of the past seventy-two hours—the rehearsals, the briefings, the bone-deep terror—had hollowed me out more than I'd realized. One slip, and this predator across from me would have scented blood.

"I'll have the light chamomile tea instead," I said, my voice betraying nothing.

Felix watched me in absolute silence. His handsome face was a perfectly unreadable mask.

My pulse raced as a memory, sharp and unwelcome, flashed behind my eyes—the only real encounter we'd ever shared. A dim, secluded stairwell at the academy. I'd stumbled blindly into him between classes. He'd caught me by the waist, his large hands steadying me against the unyielding breadth of his chest. He'd murmured for me to watch my step, his breath ghosting over my hair. I'd breathlessly apologized and fled.

But that was years ago. To him, I was nothing but a ghost.

My burner phone vibrated against my leg again—a sharp sting of reality. Gianna wanted her answer. She suspected this lethal predator harbored a hidden weakness, and she was perfectly willing to use my life as collateral to find it. I knew her angle, of course. The Capo's intelligence network had flagged an old anomaly in Felix's academy records—a pattern of proximity, a name that surfaced more than once near his. They'd handed Gianna a rumor and she'd handed me the grenade.

I cleared my tight throat. The opulent room, thick with leather and his cologne, suddenly felt too thin to draw a proper breath.

"There is one more thing," I said, forcing myself to meet his dead-eyed stare. "Rumor has it you had a… secret interest back at the academy. Someone whose image was a persistent fixture in your thoughts. Is that true?"

Something flickered in Felix's eyes—so fast I almost missed it. His fingers stilled against the table's edge, a microsecond of arrested motion. Then it was gone, his features settling into a mask of such profound coldness it seemed to leach the warmth from the air itself.

"I have never had feelings for anyone," he stated with chilling finality.

But the pause before he spoke had been a heartbeat too long.

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Trapped By The Mafia King's Secret Obsession of Contents

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3
Ch. 4
Ch. 5
Ch. 6
Ch. 7
Ch. 8
Ch. 9
Ch. 10
Ch. 11
all

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