B.B. Hamel – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

B.B. Hamel – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:00:40 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png B.B. Hamel – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 Arranged Scars Read Online B.B. Hamel http://www.books2020.com/arranged-scars-read-online-b-b-hamel Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:00:40 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/arranged-scars-read-online-b-b-hamel Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love Authors: B.B. Hamel Advertisement

Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >97

My boss caught me skinny dipping in his pool.
Now he says we’re getting married…

My employer Finn Whelan is dangerous. He’s all charming smiles and expensive suits, and there’s something vicious lurking under that beautiful exterior.
Most nights I’m left alone to clean his gorgeous apartment… at least until he catches me dripping wet and naked…
After one stupid, steamy mistake, I find out the real horror: he’s the youngest son of New York’s most ruthless criminal organization and our families arranged for us to get married.
And Finn knew from the start. That’s why he hired me… and why he’s been watching.
Now I’m walking down the aisle with a stalker psychopath, but it somehow gets worse.
On our wedding night, he offers the one sin I’ve wanted my whole life: Help me kill your father. Help me destroy your brothers. And when it’s over, I’ll set you free.
The sick part is, I might say yes… because he’s the only man alive who understands what I’ve been through.
But as I sleep in the monster’s bed… I might be falling for my own ruin.

Arranged Scars is a full-length dark mafia romance featuring an arranged marriage, shared trauma, morally gray characters, and revenge so sweet it burns

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

CAROLINE

I’m going skinny dipping in my boss’s pool.

The night sky is dotted with stars. I stare at them through the glass of his heated luxury enclosure at the top of an enormous tower in the middle of Tribeca. Lights bend and flicker in the gorgeous pool, and I’m practically squirming with excitement as I make sure his private sauna is hot and ready.

I probably shouldn’t do this.

But I’ve gotten away with it every night for the past week and at this point I’m basically addicted.

What’s better than a sauna and a swim at the top of a beautiful high-rise tower? Especially in the middle of the night when there’s nobody else around.

Besides, I earned this. I just spent the last two hours scrubbing his entire lavish apartment all by myself. Even though it looks like nobody lives in this place, I still make sure it’s completely spotless. I polish doorknobs and take a toothbrush to his shower grout, for frick’s sake. I’m practically owed some relaxation.

I mean, I’m not really. My boss pays extremely well. Like an obscene amount of money. All I need to do is never speak of this arrangement at all.

I was skeptical at first. I’ve been cobbling together a living for the past couple years, and when a hiring company came to me with this offer out of the blue, I thought they were scamming. Why would some rich guy want me to clean his apartment in the middle of the night? I’ve done some cleaning gigs, but I’m not exactly good at it.

But then the recruiter started talking numbers… and I was more than a little interested.

Which is how I find myself stripping down in a stranger’s pool area. I squint through the glass and I’m pretty sure that if there’s someone living at the top of the next tower over, and if they owned a sufficiently powerful telescope or a really good pair of binoculars, they’d be able to see the fine downy blonde hair on my tan arms and my auburn-colored pubes. But hey, go for it, take a look. Nobody else is. Enjoy the view. Someone might as well.

I sigh and sink down into the hot sauna. This place feels so good. I really resisted using these facilities at first, but when I realized my boss is absolutely never home when I come to clean, my resolve slipped. I mean, he won’t notice, right? Not if I bring my own towel and clean up after myself. Which is easy, since that’s my job.

Sweat beads on my brow. I tie my hair back and close my eyes, stretching my legs. This is my heaven, right here. When I die, I hope they have saunas in the afterlife. I’ll be kind of pissed if they don’t. Who knew the Scandinavians were right all along?

It’s hard not to let my mind wander. I have the tendency to focus on the creepy side of life. Like for example: Did you know that every year approximately 600,000 people are reported missing? Most of those cases are resolved, but what about the cases that aren’t? I’m fascinated by that gap. Or how in New York, if you’re murdered, there’s a 50:50 chance your killer will get caught at best? And even less likely if you’re black or brown? Pretty good odds for all the serial killers out there. Even creepier: every year, over 4,000 bodies are recovered but never identified. Who are those people?

It can be a little unsettling, living inside my head.

Which is why I should probably be more careful about stripping naked in a total stranger’s apartment.

I don’t even know the guy. I met him exactly once. I call him Finn, no surname. Every night there’s an envelope containing cash on the nightstand beside his bed. There’s nothing personal in his place, or at least nothing that I’ve seen. I don’t snoop. I have some ethics, after all.

But I didn’t get a warm-and-fuzzy feeling from the guy. Not even a little bit. He smiled, even seemed charming, but there was nothing kind behind his smile. He’s handsome, incredibly good-looking to be honest, almost to the point that I couldn’t look him in the eye without my heart racing.

I still wouldn’t want to be alone in a room with him. Not for very long, anyway.

I grew up with men like him. Men who look normal on the outside, maybe even beautiful, but are rotten deep down. I’ve learned to recognize them. It’s in the way they treat the world around them. Like they’re surrounded by toys and they don’t care what they break.

Finn seriously scares me. But because I’m deeply flawed and broken, I can’t stop thinking about him.

Why would a guy like that pay me so much money to clean his boring apartment? The place is gorgeous, don’t get me wrong, but there’s zero character. What’s the point of all this?

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >97

Advertisement Satin Hate (Corsetti Mafia #1) Read Online B.B. Hamel http://www.books2020.com/satin-hate-corsetti-mafia-1-read-online-b-b-hamel Sat, 28 Feb 2026 17:32:37 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/satin-hate-corsetti-mafia-1-read-online-b-b-hamel Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Dark, Insta-Love, Mafia Authors: B.B. Hamel Series: Corsetti Mafia Series by B.B. Hamel
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >88

I rejected the mafia boss…
so he bought my apartment building.
Now my rent doubles until I agree to have dinner with him.

I have one goal in life: work myself to the bone so my genius little sister gets into a good college.

I don't have time for romance… until a brutal, terrifying stranger saves me from a pair of violent drunks.

Stellan Corsetti is a gorgeous nightmare. Beautiful, dangerous, with a cold and ruthless aura—the exact kind of man I should stay far away from.

I think our chance encounter is over until it turns out he owns my apartment building… and he wants to own me next.

He's completely unhinged. And there's nothing I can do. Stellan's rich, powerful, and he won't back down.

I have one way out: marry him, give him babies, and he'll make sure my sister has everything she needs.

Except Stellan Corsetti is a beast, and once he has me, he's never letting go.

Satin Hate is a full-length standalone with lots of spice and plenty of banter. Check the content warning and enjoy!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

KIRA

It's three in the morning, and the drunks are getting handsy.

Which isn't exactly a new experience. The graveyard shift waitressing at Amelio's 24/7 diner can get pretty dicey. Mostly, I make crappy coffee, tell the coked-up cook to fry more eggs, and try to keep the worst of the drunks from puking on the floor.

Mostly, I don't succeed.

Tonight's worse than usual for some reason. There's a table in the back with three wasted assholes who look like they came straight here from closing down the seediest dance club imaginable. They're dripping in chest hair, swagger, and cheap vodka. Every time I go over, all three stare at my chest, and the worst of the group keeps trying to smack my ass.

I'm quick, though. I can dodge his drunk advances. But they're loud and really starting to get on my nerves.

“You sure you don't want help?” Pam asks, frowning as the drunk asshole leader bangs on the table and calls for me. Kitchen wench isn't exactly flattering. He's a big bald asshole with a crooked, dickish smirk.

“It's fine. If they cross the line, I'll ask Harry to kick them out.”

Pam wrinkles her nose and looks back at our enormous Hawaiian cook. His hairnet's too small, and he's got earbuds in. “Assuming he even hears you yelling for your life. Hey! Asshole!” She snaps her fingers at him, and he doesn't even react. “See, look at that.”

“Seriously, it'll be alright. I'm praying they're drunk enough to leave a huge tip by accident.”

“Don't get your hopes up, darling. It's South Philly in the middle of the night. People with money usually have more sense than to be around here.”

She's got a point. We're not exactly in a bad neighborhood, but we're on the wrong side of Broad for the actual rich folks. The real money's on the east side of Passyunk with all the fancy gastropubs and gentrified boutiques.

Still, the diner's close to the apartment building where I share a crappy little place with my younger sister, Gemma. Who should be blissfully asleep right now because she's got class in the morning. As I walk over to the drunk idiots, ignoring their chants of kitchen wench, kitchen wench, I remind myself for the millionth time that I'm doing all this for her.

Gem's the one with talent. She's the one with a future.

While I'm just good for slinging hash browns and crappy eggs.

“What can I do for you boys?” I ask, keeping a decent distance away from the table so the grabby dickhead can't get at me.

“Need more coffee,” their leader says. He's got no hair, thick eyebrows, and a beard black enough to be made from shoe polish. “And your phone number.”

“Coffee's coming up. Number's definitely not.” I stalk off to grab the pot as the guy's friends howl. When I come back, his expression is noticeably more intense.

“You think we're hanging around this place for the food?” he asks and knocks a basket of fries onto the floor. They're soggy and not very good, but still. That's a waste of food. “I don't give a fuck about the coffee, babe. I want your number.”

I refill his mug and ignore him. “Anyone need anything else?”

The guy on the corner grins at me. “Blowjob, maybe?”

“Fuck off,” the bald asshole says, elbowing him hard. “She's mine.”

I stand back from the table, clutching the coffee pot hard and struggling with the intrusive urge to dump it over the bald guy’s head. I wonder what his skull would look like with second-degree burns. I purposefully keep the coffee very, very hot.

“Boys, I am not in the mood for this crap. Clean up these fries, pay your bill, and please get the fuck outta here. You got it?”

Normally, the strong, no-BS routine works.

But these three seem too wasted to notice or maybe they just don’t care.

“Don’t be a tease. I’ll take you somewhere nice. No kidding around.”

“No thanks. I’d rather choke.” I turn and start back to the counter.

“Damn, bro, you gonna let that bitch talk to you that way?” one of the bald guy’s friends says in a low murmur.

I get a few paces and catch Pam’s surprised look from across the room. There’s a moment of panic on her face and that’s all the warning I get before a hand grabs my arm from behind.

I whip around, slightly off balance. The guy pulls me hard and I’m not ready for it. The coffee pot comes around and splashes across his chest, which really isn’t my intention. For all my rage at idiots like these guys, I truly don’t need the hassle of getting rung up on assault charges.

For a split second, the bald asshole stares at me with wide eyes, his black shirt with a sparkly skull drenched in scalding hot coffee.

Then he howls in pain.

“You fucking kitchen bitch!” He yanks my arm again, this time tossing me sideways. I’m not a big girl and even though I can handle myself just fine, the bald asshole is easily twice my size. The coffee pot goes flying, smashes on the floor, and spills all over the place, glass glittering on the floor. I hit a freestanding table and almost knock over a chair, steadying myself as I go down to my knees hard enough to rattle my teeth.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >88

Advertisement Cruel Surprise – A Dark Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance Read Online B.B. Hamel http://www.books2020.com/cruel-surprise-a-dark-mafia-arranged-marriage-romance-read-online-b-b-hamel Wed, 07 Jan 2026 10:41:04 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/cruel-surprise-a-dark-mafia-arranged-marriage-romance-read-online-b-b-hamel Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia Authors: B.B. Hamel Advertisement

Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >93

My one night stand just crashed my wedding…
And put a bullet in my groom.

I got pregnant. Now I'm ruined. At least that's what my family says.

My only option is to marry a stranger and salvage what's left of my reputation.

I'm willing to do it… until Mass Cardone decides to take back what's his.

Mass is a monster ripped from my darkest nightmares. He’s a beautiful beast in designer suits with a body like an athlete and a stare that makes me break. His commands topple governments. His hands are drenched in blood. Every word from those beautiful lips cuts straight to my core.

We spent one night together and he gave me the best gift my daughter.

But I don't want him anywhere near my baby.

There's nothing I can do when he drags me to his private island and forces me to be his wife.

Mass is keeping secrets while pulling me deeper into his lair. I'm trapped in his bed, but I can hear screams beneath the floorboards.

If I can't escape soon, my daughter will grow up in a prison, and I'll be that psychopath's plaything for the rest of our days.

Cruel Surprise is a full length dark mafia romance with no cliffhanger and a happily-ever-after guaranteed. Check those content warnings and enjoy

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

ALLIE

Allie Russo, 23

The priest is missing. He was supposed to be at my wedding a half hour ago, but he still hasn’t shown up.

My father’s getting impatient.

“Can’t anyone just say the words? We can deal with the paperwork later.”

But some rituals and traditions can’t be changed, especially not in the deeply Catholic Cosa Nostra. Mother shakes her head and scowls at him. “Bad enough she made certain… mistakes.” She bounces my one-year-old daughter, Rosie, on her knee. “But to marry her without a priest? You might as well damn her straight to hell.”

“As if we’re not all bound there anyway,” Papa mutters, which only earns him another hard look. “Fine, we’ll wait, but if Father Michael’s not here in ten minutes, I’m getting up on that altar and performing the ceremony myself.” He storms out of my suite, probably heading off to make sure my future husband doesn’t back out at the last minute.

He had enough trouble finding me this match. He doesn’t need another year of searching for a man to make his ruined daughter at least somewhat whole again.

I can’t really pretend I’m upset by the delay. I busy myself in the mirror, fussing with my hair and makeup, even though they’re both finished. Mother’s frown only deepens. She’s surrounded by peeling wallpaper. A water stain lurks above her head. I keep telling myself I’m going to fix these rooms up, but I never do. I was only given this suite because I needed more space when Rosie was born. They never felt like mine.

“Don’t look so excited. A late priest isn’t going to get you out of doing the right thing.”

“I know that, Mama. I promise, I’m not happy.”

Mother scoffs, shaking her head. She doesn’t appreciate my humor at all. “You know how hard this has been on our family. As if life isn’t difficult enough. Your brothers are out every day earning and keeping this family afloat alongside your father, and all you had to do was keep your legs closed.” Her bouncing gets a little too aggressive, and Rosie starts to fuss. I quickly get up and take my daughter away. Mother composes herself and has the good sense to look somewhat ashamed as I place Rosie in her playpen.

“I’ve apologized a thousand times over.” I sit back down in front of the mirror, feeling small, thin, and emotionally squeezed. “I made a mistake, and now I’m going to make it right. I’m not trying to get out of this.”

“Good.” Mother stands abruptly. “I’m going to make sure everything is ready. And maybe I’ll find Father Michael too.” She pauses to kiss Rosie before she storms off, leaving me alone with my little girl.

Quiet settles in the room. I stare at myself, feeling like I’m going to shatter into a million little pieces at any moment.

And maybe that would be better for everyone. Mama can raise Rosie the way she sees fit, and I won’t be such a stain on everyone anymore. Except maybe my groom won’t be so happy, but I don’t really care what he thinks.

“You’re my priority now,” I murmur, lifting Rosie into my arms. She calls me mommy in her squeaking little voice and makes a bunch of cute noises. In another month or two, I bet she’ll be walking.

That’s my girl, a bundle of joy, energy, and pure mayhem.

I don’t know how I found myself here. For the millionth time since I realized I was pregnant, I wonder how I screwed up my life so badly.

But the strangest part is I wouldn’t go back and change anything.

There’s this game people play sometimes. They like to imagine what their life would be like if they could restart from the beginning with all their current memories intact. They talk about investing in Apple, buying Bitcoin, stuff like that.

I’d never take that deal.

For me, there’s a bright dividing line.

Before Rosie and after.

I wouldn’t go back because I can’t guarantee Rosie would be born. Even if I managed to make all the same mistakes in the exact right order, who knows which sperm hits that egg?

It’s funny to think of myself back then, before she came wailing into this world. I was so bored and empty. I spent all my time waiting for my father to find a match for me and sneaking out to go dancing in the city with friends. It was stupid, but I was twenty-one and had nothing else going on. So why not break a few rules? It wasn’t really hurting anyone.

That’s what I told myself anyway.

Now here I am, holding my baby daughter, waiting to marry a total stranger.

There’s a knock at the door. It opens and my brother Gabriel comes in. He’s the oldest, right at thirty, then there’s Dominic at twenty-eight, and little old baby me, the oopsie-baby. A mistake back then, a mistake now.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >93

Advertisement Arranged Addiction – A Dark Arranged Marriage Mafia Read Online B.B. Hamel http://www.books2020.com/arranged-addiction-a-dark-arranged-marriage-mafia-read-online-b-b-hamel Thu, 25 Dec 2025 22:08:14 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/arranged-addiction-a-dark-arranged-marriage-mafia-read-online-b-b-hamel Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Mafia Authors: B.B. Hamel Advertisement

Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >85

My spicy self-care box just got delivered to my boss’s desk.
Now he’s opening it right in front of me.
And staring at my new lingerie…

Declan Whelan’s a gorgeous nightmare.

He’s handsome as sin and demands strict obedience.

Nothing I do ever makes my crazy boss happy.

At least until a package filled with some workplace inappropriate objects gets accidentally delivered to his desk…

And now he’s very interested in everything about me.

Dinner leads to a steamy night in his penthouse suite.

I get a taste of a new side of my beautiful, psychopath boss.

But his attention comes at a price.

He’s overwhelming and obsessed in ways I never imagined.

We have a history I didn’t know about… one splattered with blood and filled with secrets.

He promises he’ll take care of me.

All I have to do is give him everything he wants… and meet his exacting standards.

Arranged Addiction is a full-length standalone dark mafia romance with lots of steam, sharp twists, and plenty of darkness. There’s no cliffhanger and a happily-ever-after is guaranteed.

For fans of spicy mafia, age gap, arranged marriage, office power dynamics, and psycho/obsessed men. Enjoy!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Casey

My spicy self-care package got delivered to the wrong office.

I don’t know how. The young mail delivery intern was too busy staring at TikTok to give me a straight answer. “Oh, yeah, I remember that. Big box? Stuff rattled around? Dunno where it ended up. Sorry, dude.” He didn’t even bother to make eye contact.

Now I’m in pure panic mode.

Maybe if I weren’t such a coward, this wouldn’t be happening. When I placed my order at Blush Boutique, I couldn’t bring myself to put my name on the order form. Instead, I opted for the generic Employee and used my office address instead. Which shouldn’t be a huge deal, right?

If the mail intern weren’t such a jerk, it would’ve been put on my desk, no harm, no problem.

Instead, there’s a box filled with lingerie and several adult toys waiting for some unsuspecting colleague.

This is my worst nightmare.

“You did what?!” Natalie covers her mouth, trying not to laugh as I wave at her to keep quiet. If Mr. Whelan hears, he’ll give me another lecture on what’s appropriate in the office, and I really don’t need my grumpy asshole boss giving me shit right now.

“I know, I know, okay? It was stupid!”

“Why didn’t you just get it delivered to your apartment?”

“I panicked, okay? I was afraid Sheila would see it somehow.”

“Casey, you’re twenty-five. I don’t think your aunt would care if you bought a box filled with enormous dildos.”

“They’re not enormous!”

“But the box is filled with them?” Natalie’s eyebrows raise. “Just what exactly did you order?”

“Would you stop it? I’m having a meltdown here.”

“Okay, okay, give me a second to think.” Natalie paces in front of my desk. She’s the only person in the whole world who I’d ever trust with something so mortifying. We met in college and lucked into working at the same office right after graduation. Even though this job isn’t ideal, I’m the executive assistant to the CEO of Mainline Logistics, which isn’t exciting, but it’s good for my resume.

And besides, nobody else would hire me. Dozens and dozens of applications and not a single callback. At least, not until Mr. Whelan, the worst boss in the history of horrible assholes.

Honestly, despite this idiotic and terrible situation, I consider myself extremely lucky.

Things have a way of working out for me. The big stuff, anyway. When my parents were killed in a freak mugging, my aunt Sheila stepped up and took me in. She sent me to an amazing private school, paid for tutors, sports trainers, anything I wanted really, and I ended up going to NYU on a pretty good scholarship.

Everything else though?

I have a habit of screwing it up.

Men in particular act like I have some kind of repulsion field wrapped around me. Ever since high school, the second a guy’s gotten close and things look good, he suddenly ghosts in the most aggressive way possible.

Once, mid-date, a really nice guy looked me dead in the eye and said, “I have to go home and give my dog a bath. This isn’t working out.”

He didn’t even stick around long enough to cover his half of the bill.

This missing spicy self-care box is just one in a long line of stupid love-life mishaps.

It was supposed to boost my confidence and help me get back out there.

Instead, it’s going to ruin my (pathetic, floundering) career.

Natalie stops pacing and comes to a decision. “No other choice but to search all over,” she proclaims. “If we split up, I bet we can get through most of the desks pretty fast.”

“Offices are going to be a problem.”

“We’ll cross that bridge once we get there.” She glances over my shoulder and lowers her voice. “Is Boss Bastard going to be an issue?”

I shake my head. “He’s out for lunch right now.”

“Perfect. Then shall we?”

I hesitate, squirming in my seat. If Mr. Whelan comes back and finds me off wandering around the halls, he’s going to be pissed. And Boss Bastard isn’t some cute, fun nickname for a great guy.

He really is a nightmare.

I don’t know why I’ve put up with him for the last two years. Probably because the pay is obscenely good for this position and he promised that he’d write me the best recommendation letter possible if I stuck it out for a while. I still live at home with Sheila, which means my paychecks are getting dumped into savings, and soon I’ll have enough to buy my own house if I don’t give up.

That’s the dream. A place of my own. A little garden in the back, a reading nook with lots of colorful books on big shelves draped in crystals and Tarot cards. Two little yappy dogs running around my ankles. A sanctuary away from everything.

All I have to do is keep my head down and hope Boss Bastard doesn’t make my life too miserable.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >85

Advertisement Arranged Control Read Online B.B. Hamel http://www.books2020.com/arranged-control-read-online-b-b-hamel Wed, 29 Oct 2025 22:16:59 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/arranged-control-read-online-b-b-hamel Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Insta-Love Authors: B.B. Hamel Advertisement

Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >89

I video called my boyfriend wearing nothing but pearls…
But the brutal mafia king picked up instead.

Cold gray eyes take in every inch of my exposed body before I have the chance to cover up.
Turns out, my deadbeat boyfriend has been run out of town, and now I’m supposed to marry a total stranger.
Seamus Whelan is a street-level gangster with a ruthless and terrifying reputation.
He’s gorgeous and chaotic with a red-hot passionate streak and a body that would make a Greek god jealous.
My father wants me to marry Seamus, but I’m afraid a monster like him will be my ruin
Too bad death’s stalking me at every turn, starting with a bloody wedding present left on my doorstep.
Either I give myself over to Seamus’s possessive and controlling whims… or I’ll pay for sins that aren’t even mine.

Arranged Control is a spicy age gap standalone novel! It’s full length with an HEA guaranteed

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Alina

I’m not normally a spontaneous nudity kind of girl.

I like my nudity to be meticulously planned, scheduled, and practiced in the mirror for at least a few hours ahead of time.

But things have been strange with my boyfriend, Alexander. I haven’t heard from him in a few days, which is unusual. It’s making me nervous because our romantic life hasn’t exactly been the most vigorous and spicy lately.

I’d say we’ve been about as hot as a frozen potato.

Which is why, when I get a FaceTime call from him late one Saturday night after getting at least a dozen calls and texts completely ignored, I decide to do something out of character.

Because I want this to work. I’ve never been with anyone else before Alex, and he’s always so sweet. At least when he’s around. We met a year ago when he came into my thrift boutique looking for a new pair of jeans. He didn’t buy anything, but he was so handsome and charming that he left with my phone number instead.

We don’t have a traditional relationship, which is fine by me. I pay for dinners, movies, that sort of stuff, and he makes it up to me by cleaning my apartment and cooking for me at home (when he’s around).

Would it be nice if he got a job? Sure, yes, absolutely. He could probably play fewer video games and go on more interviews. But it doesn’t really matter. The fact is, I can’t have a traditional relationship right now because I can’t have a relationship at all.

My family would kill me.

Or actually, they’d kill him, and I mean that very literally.

Maybe that’s why I’m willing to step outside of my comfort zone for a guy I’m dimly aware is not really worth my time or effort. It’s the threat of mortal danger—and the fact that he’s pretty much my only option at the moment.

It isn’t easy being the baby daughter of a criminal.

“Okay, Alina, you can do this.” I strip off my clothes and look at myself in the mirror. On the short side, thick blonde hair, a face that’s usually described as “cute but not sexy,” and a trim body that I keep obsessively fit. I basically don’t love any of what I’m seeing, but I made up my mind, and if I inherited anything from my psychopath of a father, it’s a stubbornness streak ten miles wide.

I spend ten minutes in the bathroom fixing myself up, put on my favorite pearl necklace, slip into some black panties, leave my tits very much out, and position myself on the bed.

“You better fucking like this, you worthless prick,” I mutter to myself. Nervous energy flutters through my chest as I check myself in the camera. The lighting is soft and decent, and my boobs look okay at this angle. I push them together and try pouting, but that only makes me look weird and porny while I’m going for… classy and hot? I don’t even know what the hell I’m doing.

All I want is for Alex to come back.

I’m hoping this does the trick.

I pull up his missed FaceTime call. My thumb hovers over the missed call. I chew my lip, wondering if maybe I shouldn’t just do this the normal way and skip the pearls and tits, but this is what men like, right?

I have pretty much zero experience to go on.

“Screw it.” I tap the screen and it starts ringing. I’m treated to the image of my own face and tits, my pink nipples slightly hard because it’s cold in my apartment and I’m nervous. It keeps ringing, and it looks like Alex is going to bail on me again. We’re going to play phone tag, and next time, I won’t have the guts to do anything like this. I’m about to end the call when it suddenly chimes and connects.

At first, the screen’s dark. I can’t make anything out. I try my best sultry smile and refuse to look at my face in the corner for fear of dying of embarrassment. “Hey, Alex,” I say, batting my eyelids a little bit. I’m laying it on a little thick. It’s honestly demeaning and pathetic, but I’ve come this far. “You there?”

The screen resolves. I make out the back seat of a car. I can see lights through the back window, and I’m pretty sure they’re moving.

The man staring at me isn’t my boyfriend.

Panic hits me. I can’t move. Did I dial the wrong number? But no, this is absolutely Alex’s phone. I’m completely positive. But that’s not Alex staring at me right now with a dark and burning hunger, almost like he’s not surprised that a topless girl just appeared on his phone. Like that happens all the time.

The man is handsome. Devilishly handsome. Light blue eyes, bordering on gray, with a slightly scrubby beard, graying at the edges. Older than Alex and much better looking. He’s dressed in a sharp black suit with the top button of his dress shirt left open to show off a tanned and muscular chest. Tattoos are visible up to his neck. His hair’s cut short and shoved back, thick and slightly wavy.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >89

Advertisement Ruthless Lord – An Age Gap Arranged Marriage Mafia Read Online B.B. Hamel http://www.books2020.com/ruthless-lord-an-age-gap-arranged-marriage-mafia-read-online-b-b-hamel Sun, 12 Oct 2025 20:52:24 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/ruthless-lord-an-age-gap-arranged-marriage-mafia-read-online-b-b-hamel Genre: Alpha Male, Mafia Authors: B.B. Hamel Advertisement

Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >93

A gorgeous mafia beast saved my life.
I climbed into his bed and tried to pay him back…
But my father caught my walk of shame.

Now I’m marrying a vicious stranger, all because I made one stupid mistake.

Stefano Bianchi is an enforcer for the Marino Famiglia and he’s way too old for me.

I never should have crawled into his bed after I embarrassed myself at his feet.

The man’s a butcher and a pit fighter, covered in scars and old wounds.

His body might be broken from a thousands battles, but he’s still drop-dead gorgeous in his fitted suits.

I hate everything about him, but we’re getting married in ten days.

Like everything with my family, there’s a if I agree to spy on the Marino crime organization for my powerful grandfather, he will make sure I’m granted a divorce in one year.

It shouldn’t matter if Stefano’s the first man to make me feel alive.

I don’t want to be his wife, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get out of this nightmare.

Right until we’re sharing a bed, playing a game of who-will-break-first, and it looks like I’m winning…

Ruthless Lord is a full length standalone novel with plenty of steam, no cliff-hanger, and a happily-ever-after guaranteed. Enjoy!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Charlie

Based on the way this guy's staring at me, I'm either about to get stabbed, trafficked, or invited back to his place for a more intimate experience.

Fingers crossed for stabbed.

"You clumsy fucking bitch," he snarls, his scarred upper lip curling.

Cash flutters in the air around us. Tens, twenties, fifties, all slowly scattering around the big man, floating to the floor as eager and greedy onlookers stare at the huge sum of money now lying around for one brave idiot to go after.

"I am so sorry," I say, holding up my hands, mouth hanging open. A chorus of oh shit, oh shit plays through my head. Loud music slams from the nearby speakers, and at least one guy laughs as he raises a drink to his lips. Bet that asshole never spilled a few thousand in cash all over a crowded nightclub floor.

"Sorry don't fucking help me pick up all this fucking money," the man snarls. He looks over his shoulder and snaps his fingers at a couple more musclebound idiots in black t-shirts and baggy jeans. "Don't let anyone touch a single fucking bill."

"Yeah, boss, got it." The two junior thugs begin hurriedly gathering everything in thick stacks as their boss stomps closer to me.

"You got any idea whose money that is?" he snarls, reaching out for my wrist.

"Honestly, probably better than you do." I jerk away before he can snatch me, darting backward, heart racing.

His face turns red with anger. "Clumsy and fucking mouthy too."

"Don't forget smart and beautiful."

"I was thinking more fuckable." He sneers, showing off a single gold tooth. "And very small."

Well, crap. Naturally, my dumb mouth just made this situation worse than it had to be. I hold up my hands sheepishly. "Can't we just agree accidents happen and move on? Would you accept a heartfelt apology?"

His head shakes slowly. He must be too aware of the people watching. Men and women crowd around nearby, some edging toward the two thugs picking up the cash, others staring at the big boss. He's probably embarrassed, and men like him don't do well when their pride gets wounded.

Most of them compensate with violence.

This asshole seems about average in that regard.

"Come here, bitch," he snarls and lunges.

I make a pathetic meeping noise and scurry to the side, barely getting out of his reach. He crashes into a table and sends a few empty bottles shattering on the floor.

"Shit!" I yelp, racing toward the edge of the crowd. "Move! Move!"

They don't move. Instead, I crash into a few onlookers. Someone tries to grab my waist, and I lash out blindly, panic taking over. A guy curses as my fist connects with a throat, and then I'm free again. I pinwheel forward, stumbling through a few more onlookers, and start running hard.

Big Boss is on my ass, though. He's tearing after me like an enraged bull, which isn't all that far from the truth.

This should be the part where I stop and tell him, it's okay, that's technically my money I knocked over back there, but I'm pretty sure we're way past that point.

Instead, I tear through the dark warehouse. The fighting ring to my left is the only bright beacon of light. Inside, enormous, shirtless beasts are tearing into each other, punching and kicking viciously. Blood splatters from a nose, and there's a scream of savage joy from the crowd.

"Get back here, you fucking bitch!" Big Boss roars, much too close for comfort. I careen around a bunch of tables and angle toward the back halls, head spinning, trying to figure out how I'm going to lose him. Won't be in the crowd—someone currying favor with the Bloody Fist will grab me eventually—but maybe through the winding back rooms and the fighter stalls.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >93

Advertisement Arranged Obsession Read Online B.B. Hamel http://www.books2020.com/arranged-obsession-read-online-b-b-hamel Sat, 30 Aug 2025 08:42:33 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/arranged-obsession-read-online-b-b-hamel Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Authors: B.B. Hamel Advertisement

Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >91

I married my stalker.
Right after he stole me from his brother.

Cormac Whelan’s a beautiful and godlike mafia devil who rules the streets of New York City.

And he can’t stand the idea of my arrangement with his brother.

I was warned a thousand times to stay away from that psychopath Cormac.

Except instead of the man I was expecting, my worst nightmare is waiting up at the altar on my wedding day.

Cormac looks like sweet sin in his wedding suit, and I hate how fast my heart beats during our first perfect kiss.

Now I’m trapped by a vicious monster, and it gets worse.

Cormac is deeply obsessed with me and it’s terrifying.

But the attraction I feel toward him is equally dark and twisted.

All I want is to open and run a women’s shelter… and maybe I can use Cormac’s infatuation against him.

He’ll give me whatever I ask for, so long as I submit to his possessive and sinful rules.

I’m playing with a savage, and unless I’m careful, he’s going to break me in ways I may never come back from.

Arranged Obsession is a full-length standalone romance with no cliffhanger, lots of steam, and a crazy stalker mafia king. It includes explicit scenes, violence, gore, and other sensitive subjects

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Bianca

The ghost broke into my apartment again last night.

I almost didn’t notice it this time.

But I smell him. That’s my first clue. It’s always the same. Woodsy, smoky, strong, and masculine. I used to hate the way his scent would linger, but it’s grown on me over the years.

I have to look closely to figure out what he took. I walk around my apartment, letting my fingers drift over old records, half-burned candles, a small cat statue on a bookshelf, dying dried-out flowers left in a vase, until I figure it out.

My Chapstick is gone.

“Creepy choice, Mr. Ghost,” I say softly to myself, or maybe to him, I’m not even sure. It’s totally possible he can hear what I’m saying.

I mean, if he can break into the Marino Famiglia’s most guarded and important mansion basically whenever he wants to, what else can he do?

It’s not impossible that he’s watching and listening right now.

The thought would’ve sent me into a panic spiral when this all started. I remember waking up to mornings like this one, the ghost’s smell lingering in the air, and freaking out for hours. I told Papa, Adriano, the guards, anyone who would listen, but no matter how many security cameras they installed or men they had watching my room, there was never any sign of an intruder.

I saw therapists, psychologists, doctors, but none of that helped. There were weeks when I thought I was going insane.

My ghost kept coming, and he kept stealing.

Now, after all this time, I’ve come to accept it. It’s almost weirdly comforting in a way. Like a heavy thunderstorm or snow piling on a roof. Disconcerting and beautiful. Just part of nature.

Every time he takes something, it’s proof that I haven’t lost my fucking mind.

And he’s never hurt me. He’s never even shown himself. There’s only the smell and a missing object and never anything more.

I’ve had cameras filming me while I sleep, hidden microphones recording every sound in my room, dozens of high-end motion sensors protecting my floor, and he never once showed up.

At this point, he’s just a part of my life.

“Well, at least you’ll have moisturized lips,” I murmur as I go about my morning routine. I like to talk to my ghost sometimes. “It’s fine, you know. I have like ten dozen of those and I never finish them. Do you ever miss me when you don’t come for a few days? I miss you in a weird way. Maybe I have you all wrong. You’re not some evil ghost haunting me. Maybe you’re my guardian angel.”

But angels don’t steal pens, scrap paper, pieces of old mail, little marbles, playing cards, rubber bands, even a bottle of shampoo one time. Nothing expensive. Nothing important. Almost always something small.

No, my ghost probably isn’t an angel. He’s probably some creepy demon monster.

“You’re my creepy demon monster,” I say as I lift my coffee cup to my lips with a smile. “Isn’t that right, Ghost?”

My little suite is completely silent. There’s no answer, only his lingering smell. I breathe it in, smiling as it tingles in my nose, and give myself a sharp nod. “Time to start the day, Ghost. What should I wear? I’m thinking something black and comfortable…”

Grace House is a fifteen-minute walk from the mansion where I live with my brother Adriano and a whole fleet of guards and staff. I start feeling lighter and better the instant I’m out of that place, like the weight of what our family does for a living is totally oppressive when I’m under its roof. I stop for another coffee at a little shop around the corner, leave a nice tip for the barista, and smile to myself as I stroll along the hot sidewalk.

Philly in deep summer can be brutal. It’s not just the heat, but the absolutely stifling humidity. Sweat beads my back after two minutes, and I’m already regretting the walk.

But this is my habit. Even though Adriano said the Famiglia would happily give me a ride to Grace House every day, I refuse to take him up on that.

I don’t want to owe the family anything.

From the outside, people think I’m some spoiled rotten mafia princess. I can’t really blame them for making that assumption. I like designer clothes and nice things. I’m not proud of it, but I have a very mild addiction to retail therapy, and my closet reflects that terrible character defect.

But all my money comes from my personal trust. Mama established it for me back when I was a baby, and the cash has been growing every year in very good investments. I’m not rich, but I’m comfortable enough since I don’t have to pay for food or rent or anything like that.

I know how fortunate I am. I see it every single day in the eyes of the women who come through Grace House.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >91

Advertisement Shattered King Read Online B.B. Hamel http://www.books2020.com/shattered-king-read-online-b-b-hamel Tue, 05 Aug 2025 19:55:16 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/shattered-king-read-online-b-b-hamel Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia Authors: B.B. Hamel Advertisement

Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >99

He saved my life… but now I want my freedom.
Too bad my new husband keeps what he catches.

All I’ve ever needed is a quiet garage, oil stains on my hands, and my favorite music on the radio.

Then a bunch of guys try to kill me, and only a terrifying mafia monster keeps me breathing.

Luca Marino is six‑plus feet of bristling muscle with a possessive attitude and murder in his heart.

He’s sinfully gorgeous. It’s not even fair.

Maybe I’m grateful to be alive, or maybe it’s the toe‑curling way he stares at me like I’m his downfall and he can’t wait to burn for it.

I throw away all caution and make one incredible mistake with him.

Afterward, my dying Don father informs me that to save my family, I’m going to marry that monster.

Which is how I end up walking down the aisle with Luca Marino… while carrying his baby.

To make this nightmare even more fun, a civil war is coming, and I’m the main target.

Our enemies have to break my father’s alliance with Luca’s organization… and that means killing me.

I used to dream about escaping the Serrano Famiglia.

Now I just want to survive tomorrow… while staying out of my psycho husband’s bed.

Shattered King is a steamy full-length standalone with no cliffhanger and a guaranteed happily-ever-after. Go ahead and enjoy

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Fiorella

There’s nothing like the smell of grease and a big, fat wrench to get me going in the morning. I blast the local alt-rock station, cover my hair with a cheap, stained bandana, and survey my domain.

It’s a godawful mess. Tools are scattered all over. Car parts lean in teetering stacks. Vehicles in various states of decay and disrepair are parked across the massive garage. Bumpers lean at precarious angles. The concrete floor is stained from years of oil and blood.

In a half hour, this place will be crawling with my father’s men. They’ll tear, break, strip, smash, and chew through the remaining cars until there’s nothing but scrap and parts left. Then the work starts over when the next shipment shows up.

Until then, it’s glorious, and it’s all mine.

I walk through the mess, smiling and humming. This is my happy place. Away from the politics of the family. Away from the expectations of my brother and my father. An oasis in all the madness that is the Serrano Famiglia.

Sitting in the very back corner, in a little space I carved out for myself, is my baby.

She’s beautiful.

Rusty exterior. Interior ripped to shreds. Engine in shockingly good shape though, and an undercarriage rivaling my own. Headlights cracked, tires shredded.

But she’s mine. All freaking mine. A 1972 Alfa Romeo Spider in silver, or at least it was silver twenty years back. Now it’s more like pockmarked gray.

I run my fingers along her curvy sides. She’s just a finicky little thing with two leather seats and a classic interior. There’s a 2.0-liter twin-cam four-cylinder engine in there, and it purrs like a cat in heat when I get her fired up. The electrical system needs to be ripped out and rewired, the carburetor is going to be a pain in my sweet ass, and I’m lucky as hell rust didn’t eat her to little Swiss cheese pieces already.

But my sweet baby’s going to sing when I’m done with her.

I get to work. Not much time until the monkeys arrive and ruin my peace and quiet. I gather up my tools and pick up from where I left off yesterday. Finishing this beast of a project is going to take forever, but this isn’t about the end result.

Rebuilding a car is about love. It’s about patience. Those are both things I desperately need to learn because I don’t have much of either left these days.

I’m lost in the work down on my back, my fingers covered in black slick and smelling like crap when I hear a noise at the far end of the garage. I sit up too fast and bump my head on the undercarriage. It hurts like freaking hell, and I’m cursing as I slide myself back out from under my baby. I should still have at least twenty minutes.

“Who’s in early?” I call out, rubbing my head and cursing. “You know I hate it when you assholes⁠—”

I stare as a man I’ve never seen before comes toward me.

He’s big and muscular. I can tell he’s mafia just at a glance. There’s something in the dangerous way he stares at me like he’s sizing me up. Only predators have that look, and I’ve learned to spot it from a mile away. Fear flutters in my chest, and my breathing comes short. Nobody’s supposed to be here.

Especially not a stranger.

“Are you alone?” he asks. Behind him, more men start pouring into the place. Six of them by my count. All mafia, all armed.

This is really, really bad.

“Who the hell are you?” I stand my ground. My fingers are stained, and I nervously rub them on my shirt. Another ruined top to throw on the mountain of clothes I’ve destroyed over the years.

“My name’s Luca Marino, and you’re in deep shit.”

The name rings a distant bell. The Marino Famiglia’s a big, powerful mafia organization in Philadelphia. We’ve done business with them over the years, but mostly we’ve kept our distance and stuck to our niche. They do drugs; we do stolen cars. It all works out beautifully in the end.

But what the hell is one of their guys doing here?

“I don’t want trouble.” I back away from him and bump into my girl’s side. She rattles on the lifts. My stomach’s twisted with fear, but I refuse to completely back down. A hammer’s within close reach, and I’m tempted to make a grab for it.

But Luca’s eyes drift past me. “Is that an Alfa Romeo?” he asks, brows lifting.

The question rattles me. “1972 Spider,” I say awkwardly.

“Gorgeous,” he whispers, his eyes drifting back to meet my own.

And my chest freaking clenches.

He’s good-looking. Now that I’m getting past the initial shock, I start to really take him in. Tall and muscular with a lean, athletic build. His lips are full and his eyes are dark, and his hair’s got that perfectly messy look, cut short on the sides and a bit longer on the top, curling slightly in pushed-back waves. The stubble on his cheeks makes him seem rugged, and I find my heart fluttering the more I look at him.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >99

Advertisement Vicious Heir – Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance Read Online B.B. Hamel http://www.books2020.com/vicious-heir-arranged-marriage-mafia-romance-read-online-b-b-hamel Mon, 30 Jun 2025 19:08:12 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/vicious-heir-arranged-marriage-mafia-romance-read-online-b-b-hamel Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, Insta-Love, Mafia Authors: B.B. Hamel Advertisement

Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >102

I want my ring on your finger… your dress on my floor… and my baby in your belly.

My future husband is a predator.

Adriano Marino is the ruthless heir to a powerful mafia family, and he’s everything I was raised to hate.

Vicious and cruel. Obsessed with violence and wealth.

We’re getting married so his money can solve my family’s debt problem.

When that gorgeous monster’s lips brush my skin, he makes me feel like his prey.

There’s no love here. Only blistering physical attraction and possessive domination.

But a long time ago, I was promised to another man. Now he’s back to take what he wants, except Adriano isn’t giving me away.

I’m a pawn in this war and I’m desperate for a way out.

If I want to survive, I have to learn to fight alongside a monster.

Vicious Heir is a full length standalone romance with a guaranteed happily-ever-after. It's the first book in the Marino Crime Family world

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Lucy

I’ve never been to an orgy before.

The situation just never presented itself until now. Nobody’s ever been like, hey, Lucy, let’s go to an orgy! And I’ve never really wanted to go search one out.

Which is why this is so bizarre.

Normally, Velvet Echo is an upscale nightclub. It’s one of the more exclusive venues in Philadelphia, and I’ve actually been here a few times over the years. Right now, though, it’s totally unrecognizable.

There are beds everywhere. Some are empty, but more of them are full of bodies. Like the bed to my right: a very attractive older woman is getting fucked from behind by an enormously muscular man while she sucks the dick of another well-built guy. She’s making these moaning, gagging noises while the guy ramming into her keeps slapping her pink ass. Apparently, she’s loving it because she screams in bliss as the guy in the front comes on her face, his mouth hanging open.

Everyone’s sweaty and naked. Half of them are wearing masks and the rest don’t seem to care. There are so many different bodies: big ones, small ones, skinny ones, and full ones. Many of them are involved with someone, or a few someones. Dicks in mouths, dicks in pussies, and a few dicks in asses. There’d be dicks in dicks if they could make it fit. There’s one couch of exclusively women, and I watched them viciously reject at least three different guys that tried to get in on their group. Another couch is all men. They’re more welcoming.

I’m extremely thankful for my wristband. So long as I have it on, nobody will bother me. It’s marked with a blue line, meaning I’m off-limits unless I approach someone. There are other wristbands with various different colors, some denoting kink, some denoting sexual preference.

A woman with a black wristband is pleasuring at least six different men. One dick in her mouth, a dick in each hand, a dick in her pussy, and more dicks waiting for their turn. It looks more exhausting than anything else, if I’m honest, but she looks like she’s in mindless bliss, so good for her.

I sit at the bar and drink. It’s all I can work up the nerve to do. I’m not here to partake in the fucking. No, I have a very specific task, but so far, I’m basically failing.

Grandmother’s voice plays through my head: find your future husband and figure out what he likes, then use it against him.

Leave it to my fucked-up family to make attending an orgy an act of espionage.

Adriano Marino should be here somewhere. Velvet Echo is his club, and he’s the one that throws this little gathering. Once a month, this place turns into a den of sin and excess, and only the richest and most powerful people in the region get an invite. I’m not sure where Grandmother found mine, but I’m not surprised she managed to procure one. Helena Willing-Morris is one of the most conniving and dangerous people I’ve ever met in my life. And she basically raised me.

A few feet away, a gorgeous black woman rakes her fingernails down a skinny pale man’s chest. He’s not wearing a mask, and I’m pretty sure I recognize him, but I quickly look away when the woman starts slobbering on his dick. It’s actually hot and impressive, but I’m feeling overwhelmed by all the bodies. I thought I’d get desensitized after an hour, but nope. Whenever I feel like I’m getting used to it, some new coupling smacks me right in the face.

I start to feel overwhelmed. I down my wine, head spinning. My mask is too tight, like it’s trying to choke me, even though it only covers the top half of my face. That was also my grandmother’s decision. Show the lips, girl, it’s one of your very few good features.

I get away from the bar. Four women are taking turns servicing a guy on a bed to my left; a group of six people are intermingling, legs and arms tangled, sucking and licking and fucking each other. I walk faster, past two attractive men going down on a masked woman while she sucks a third’s dick, past two men taking turns fucking a woman while another woman licks her nipples, past too many more combinations of sweaty bodies until I find a staircase. I take it up, hoping beyond hope to find some freaking reprieve from this nightmare.

Only to find the VIP area. Except tonight, it’s the bondage area. A man’s tied up and leashed while a woman’s whipping him lightly and calling him a pathetic loser. A woman’s wearing intricate ropes like a dress while a man glides his dick into her mouth, using her like a doll. I turn toward a quiet hallway and practically start running; too much stimulation really messes me up, and this orgy is basically nothing but.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >102

Advertisement Bitter Arrangement – Arranged Marriage Dark Mafia Read Online B.B. Hamel http://www.books2020.com/bitter-arrangement-arranged-marriage-dark-mafia-read-online-b-b-hamel Mon, 12 May 2025 18:28:21 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/bitter-arrangement-arranged-marriage-dark-mafia-read-online-b-b-hamel Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia Authors: B.B. Hamel Advertisement

Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >90

Best way to get to know my arranged husband?
Break into his house.
It’s a great idea, at least until the psycho catches me.
And my punishment feels so much better than I expected.

My arranged husband Alexan Sarkissian is cold death covered in slick tattoos.
He’s a vicious genius who loves only blood and power.

I never should’ve broken into his house, because now the psychopath’s completely obsessed with me.

Everything gets worse when my impulsive nature takes over and I steal an important antique from a deadly crime syndicate.

And the complicated part?
They hire Alexan to get it back.

This is beyond a huge problem.
He can’t turn me in, but he can’t fail them either.

I'm trapped in a nightmare with an obsessed monster.

My future husband is cold, calculating, and ruthless, while I’m all fire and passion.
Our personalities clash, but we have to work together.

Because if we don’t, we risk losing everything we love.

Bitter Arrangement is a dark mafia story with plenty of steam and lots of thrills. It's a full-length standalone with no cliff-hanger and a happily-ever-after guaranteed. Enjoy!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Riley

Riley McGrath, 22.

Alexan Sarkissian, 30.

Baltimore, Maryland.

Seven weeks until the wedding.

They say robbery is the best way to get to know a man.

Well, okay, I doubt anyone in the history of the world ever said that, but it’s probably true.

At least, it felt true when I came up with it last night.

Right about now, as I use a Slim Jim to jam open the lock on this back window in the middle of the day?

Not so much.

Still, come on, there’s some logic here. People are their truest selves at home, right? And a person’s stuff can tell a compelling story about who they are. My thinking is I’ll never get to know my arranged husband before we’re forced into this stupid marriage without taking some drastic steps.

So I’m going to rob him.

My cousin Liam made it pretty clear that I’m supposed to stay far away from Alexan Sarkissian until I walk down the aisle and sell myself to him. And as the head of the McGrath clan, one of the most influential and powerful Irish crime families on the Eastern Seaboard, what Liam says is immutable law.

But unfortunately for basically everyone that knows me, I’ve never been the kind of girl who follows orders.

So instead of meeting Alexan at some nice gastropub for overpriced burgers and mediocre hoppy beer, I’m going to break into his house.

Seems like a super reasonable and solid plan.

No possible way this could go wrong!

“Open up, you piece of crap stinking bastard.” The window lock suddenly clicks, and the frame cracks as my tool pries too hard. I curse and slip it back out before sliding the top sash upward.

I get a waft of cool interior air to combat the muggy summer afternoon.

“Okay, hard part done,” I mumble to myself as I hoist myself over the ledge and tumble down into a spacious, modern kitchen. I brace myself on the counter and deftly flip onto my feet, landing with a little flourish as I bow to invisible judges. “Thank you, thank you, oh, no need for the perfect tens.”

It’s a nice house in a decent Baltimore neighborhood. The interior’s clearly been redone in the last few years. The hardwood gleams, and the counters are all pristine, almost like they’re never used. I spot only the most basic evidence that a human actually lives here: healthy food in the refrigerator and a neatly stacked pile of history books on the coffee table.

Otherwise, it’s pristine. Almost sanitized. It’s like a tomb for an Instagram influencer or something.

I head down the hallway, heart pattering. It’s a little past noon, and I’m sure nobody’s home, but there’s always the chance I’m wrong. Most amateurs think slinking around in darkness is the way to go, but breaking into a house at night is stupid since people are more likely to be around.

Most regular humans are working in the afternoon. More and more jobs are remote, which complicates things, but my bet is this guy doesn’t sit around his house.

I suspect there aren’t many stay-at-home members of the Armenian Brotherhood.

Upstairs is just like the first floor. Clean almost to the point of obsession. There’s an extra bedroom, tidy and untouched, an office with a huge computer setup and a couch against one wall looking like it’s never actually touched by human hands, and a spacious master. A huge four-poster bed dominates the gray area rug. The furniture is wooden and gleaming, polished to a shine. Watches are lined up on the bureau, and there’s a desk in the corner with another huge computer. Fans whir quietly from the tower next to the monitors.

“What a neat freak,” I whisper to myself as I peer into his closet. I like the way it smells: cedar, nutmeg, masculine. I grab a white dress shirt at random, feeling that old familiar thrill of doing something very, very wrong. It’s Armani and expensive. I stand in front of a full-length mirror on the back of the closet door and hold the shirt up against my body.

It’s huge. It would fit me like a dress. And for whatever bizarre reason, I want it.

Maybe it’s the way the shirt smells. I breathe it in, holding it close. Soapy in a good way. Citrusy and fresh. His smell, whoever he is. I smile, tilting my head, wondering what the man that wears this shirt looks like.

There’s not much about Alexan Sarkissian online, which is remarkable considering the way the world works these days. He’s got no socials, no news stories, no mentions of his name anywhere. The man’s a ghost, and I’d start to think that this whole situation was an elaborate prank if it weren’t for the fact that I’m marrying him in a month.

Something clicks over near the computer. A strange, fuzzy sound blurts out from the speakers. I frown in confusion, heart rate spiking, when I hear the voice.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >90