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Three books, three mafia bad boys, three unexpected love stories, the first of which is available exclusively in this box set.


Movement caught his eye, and Samuele went from introspective to high alert over the course of a single heartbeat. He even started to lean forward, ready to grab the Beretta Nano strapped to his ankle.

But it registered that the movement came from a pile of fluff that had curled up in the middle of the jogging path, and he was reasonably certain this little guy meant him no harm, so Samuele did his damndest to avoid stepping on the animal, whatever it may be.

This resulted in him twisting to the left, which still likely would have been okay, except when his foot hit the path a few inches away from the animal’s body, his running shoe sank into something soft, squishy, warm, and smelly. 

“Fuck me,” he growled. He’d just stepped in shit. Without thinking it through—unusual for him—he twisted again, which in retrospect was stupid because his shoe was already coated in some sort of feces. 

This resulted in his foot going one way while his knee went the other, and then a shooting pain hit his ankle and he went down like a sack of potatoes.

Thank Christ he didn’t land in the pile of shit that started this whole mess. 

“Ohmigod,” he heard a high-pitched voice cry out, and then something warm and faintly abrasive was sliding across his face, and it took him way longer than it should have to realize the animal he’d been trying to avoid was a dog—a puppy, actually, that might be a golden retriever—and it was now licking his face. 

He pushed the muzzle away. “Okay, okay, I’m alive, leave me alone.” 

“But are you okay?” that same feminine voice said, and Samuele turned away from the overly enthusiastic pup to look up into the very concerned looking face of an angel.

That was maybe a bit of an exaggeration. But, fuck him, she was beautiful. Vibrant red hair pulled back into a ponytail. A mass of curls draped over her shoulder. Big, bright blue eyes. High cheekbones. Full, rosy lips. A narrow neck that curved down to a smooth chest and breasts that weren’t too big or too small.

He kept up his perusal, because why the hell not?

Below those tempting breasts was a narrow waist that flared into hips that were so perfect for grabbing during sex that his cock began to swell, which was problematic since he was wearing a pair of running shorts and not much else.

“Uh…” He finally checked himself because Jesus, Samuele, you aren’t in a fucking strip club. This particular neighborhood was one that pretended it didn’t cater to his kind, even though a fair number of the residents were likely connected to Gino Sarvilli in one way or another. 

Samuele cleared his throat. “I stepped in dog shit.” 

Classy, real classy. What the fuck was he thinking? 

The woman’s gaze flew up past his head, and she scrambled to her feet. Yeah, he tried to grab a peek up the leg of her shorts as she hurried past him. Then she bent over, and all sorts of far-less-than-appropriate thoughts hit him at once, and if his dick wasn’t swollen yet, it would be in about five seconds flat.

When she straightened, she had the fluffball in her arms, holding it close to her chest, and he really wished he and that dog could trade places.

“I’m so sorry,” the woman said. “I just adopted him and I don’t have a fence and I only turned my back for a moment and… I’m really sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” Like he could hold that against her. Like he could hold anything against her, except maybe his own body. Which was stupid of him to even think because houses in this neighborhood didn’t go for less than half a mill, and a woman her age didn’t live here unless she was part of a dual income household. 

Translation: she was married.

Not that Samuele hadn’t ever had an affair with a married woman before. To be honest, some of his craziest fucking experiences had occurred while he was banging married women. 

And yeah, if this woman was married and still wanted to go a round, he’d not turn her down. She was fucking hot, after all. If she was married, she probably wouldn’t have her eye out for a fuck buddy. There was something pure about her, something innocent. No, naïve was a better word. Her guy might fuck around on her, but she’d never betray him like that.

Had he mentioned that he was good at reading people? Another aspect of his personality that made him damn good at his job.

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