War of Hearts Series by Natasha Knight – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

War of Hearts Series by Natasha Knight – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Wed, 19 Nov 2025 18:27:43 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png War of Hearts Series by Natasha Knight – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 The Pawn (War of Hearts #2) Read Online Natasha Knight http://www.books2020.com/the-pawn-war-of-hearts-2-read-online-natasha-knight Wed, 19 Nov 2025 18:27:43 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/the-pawn-war-of-hearts-2-read-online-natasha-knight Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Forbidden, Mafia, Suspense Authors: Natasha Knight Series: War of Hearts Series by Natasha Knight
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)

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I rule a kingdom built on blood.

Brutality is my legacy.

The moment I saw Allegra Moretti, I knew I had to have her.

The night I planned to make her my wife, my enemies attacked.

They took her from me.

They did not know the monster they unleashed.

I burned the world down to bring her home.

Now, I’ll go to war for her.

I will tear our families apart and I will deliver her enemies to her in pieces.

Allegra is my queen and I will destroy any man who dares hurt her

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

1

ALLEGRA

The smell of red wine makes me sick. I have a visceral reaction to the scent and it’s something I’ve had to work to get under control. I’ve been able to do it for the most part. The sound of a piano playing, though? That will always trigger a memory in me. Always leave me with a feeling of dread, no matter how pretty the music.

Too much bitter for any sweet.

This feeling is worse. Because the worst is yet to come.

That dread is like a disease, a cancer spreading black in your insides, pushing everything else out. Leaving no room for anything but it.

Someone’s playing now. An old tune, one I know well, with a constant, repeating melody.

A dark tune.

It’s starts up again. Back at the beginning.

My heart hurts to hear it.

Fingers on a keyboard taking me back to where it began.

To where it all ended so horrifically.

My chest constricts. It’s hard to breathe. Consciousness creeps back in salt tears burning my face. How long have I been crying?

There’s a part of me straining to hear because before I open my eyes, before I return fully to consciousness, that part of me thinks she might still be here. Thinks I can have her back as ridiculous as the idea is. As impossible.

My lip trembles. My throat constricts when I swallow.

Hope for the hopeless. It’s absurd.

I can’t listen. It’s too much. I need to block out the sound. To plug my ears until it stops.

And it does stop. Suddenly and completely. It stops and, in the wake of its silence, I hold my breath, and I count my heartbeats. It’ll start again. I know it will. It’s been going on for a while. Is it a recording? No. It might be easier if it were, but whoever is playing has missed notes. Made mistakes she’d never have made.

When I inhale, I register something else. Dust. No, not dust. Ash. Ash from a fire. And the coppery taste of blood in my mouth.

The music starts again.

I lick my lips. The pianist makes another mistake. Mutters a curse. Corrects. Dread spreads like tar from my center outward, my belly full of it, my heartbeats turning to heavy, slow thuds.

I should open my eyes, but not yet. Not yet. I roll onto my side away from the sound. It’s useless. Like a child pulling the blankets up over her head to save herself from monsters.

Just because you can’t see the monsters, doesn’t mean they’re not there.

Who said that? My father? Or my mother? Cassian? I can’t remember.

The tips of my fingers scrape along a cold, dirty floor. Outside, rain is falling. I hear it. Smell it.

“Ah.” Someone says. A man.

I can’t put it off any longer. Time to face the music.

I open my eyes. It takes a minute before they adjust. It’s dark, but not so dark I can’t see. Not so dark I don’t know where I am. My brain won’t allow me to register the fact though. Not yet. Because that dread, it’s not just the piano. It’s this place. It’s this house of horrors.

The music stops abruptly. The piano bench scrapes what was once gleaming gold-veined marble. So pretty, like a palace. I remember thinking that. A palace for a princess.

Footsteps echo. I stare at the wall burnt black. The steps are coming toward me. I need to get up. To face him.

Just because you can’t see the monsters doesn’t mean they’re not there.

I can’t defend myself by pretending he’s not here. Rolling onto my back, I try to sit up, to move. My head aches. I recall how he slapped me twice before smashing my head against the SUV’s window.

My brother’s face the moment before the bullet struck flashes before my eyes. My brother’s grinning, then stunned expression. Or maybe I’m making that part up. He didn’t see it coming. I don’t think he registered what was happening to be stunned before warm blood splattered across my face and he fell over.

But closing my eyes makes it worse and when I open them, there’s a shadow over me. A face peering down at me. Looming above me.

Malek.

Malek, my father’s one time consigliere. The puppet master who played my brother like the fool he was.

Malek the traitor. The killer.

He wasn’t supposed to be the violent one.

He studies me, tilting his head. He clears his throat and his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows.

I say my brother’s name, my voice a croak, a broken whisper. “Michael.” He killed him. He shot Michael before my eyes.

Malek smiles. “Gone. No need to thank me.”

I force myself to move, to get up. My head is a leaden weight, my neck not strong enough to carry it and it hurts when I finally manage to sit. I’m dizzy and lean my back against the chaise. What’s left of it, what the fire didn’t devour. I look up at him.

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Advertisement The Villain (War of Hearts #1) Read Online Natasha Knight http://www.books2020.com/the-villain-war-of-hearts-1-read-online-natasha-knight Wed, 29 Oct 2025 22:17:09 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/the-villain-war-of-hearts-1-read-online-natasha-knight Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Erotic, Mafia, MC Authors: Natasha Knight Series: War of Hearts Series by Natasha Knight
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)

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My life changed the moment I saw Cassian Trevino standing in the shadows of my father’s study.

A ruthless villain in a suit, he’s the head of a rival mafia family.

I should have been safe.

Instead, I was trapped by the man my brother betrayed.

Cassian came for blood.

But he took me instead.

Now I’m his possession.

His obsession.

He demands my surrender. He wants my body, my heart and soul.

And the most dangerous part? My heart has already betrayed me.

But the truce between our families is fracturing. We stand on the brink of a mafia war.

Loving my enemy isn’t only forbidden. It could be the deadliest betrayal of all.

Author's This is a dark mafia romance. NO cheating. Check TW on my website

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

1

ALLEGRA

“Just keep a smile on that pretty face of yours and it’ll be over before you know it.”

My brother pats my cheek, but I think what he’d really like to do is slap it if he could. If two hundred of our relatives, including members of the inner circle and business associates, weren’t clustered in our living room, drinks in hand, watching us, some openly, some from the corners of their eyes.

Watching and waiting for a crack to show, a weakness to exploit.

“It hasn’t even been six months since his death, Michael. It’s not right.”

The family trusted our father to lead them. I’m not sure my brother realizes they don’t exactly look at him with the same respect.

Michael turns to nod a greeting to one of the guests, his lips moving into what on the outside looks like a warm smile as he sips his whiskey.

“The contract’s been delayed long enough. And besides, right won’t keep us fed, will it? Won’t keep this roof over our heads. It certainly won’t put us back at the top of the food chain.”

That last part he says under his breath. He scans the crowd before turning to me once more and I see his true face. The one beneath the mask.

“Besides, it’s my birthday, sis. Consider this my birthday gift, you actually doing what you’re told for once. I’m head of this family now and I’m working my ass off to fix the mess our father left behind. Hell, he should have married you off the day you turned eighteen, but you always did have him wrapped around your little finger, didn’t you?”

“He wouldn’t make me do something I didn’t want to do.”

“Bullshit,” he says with a snort. “Don’t make a saint of him. He wasn’t one, Allegra. You of all people should know that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He grits his teeth and narrows his eyes, and I get the feeling it’s taking all he has to hold back.

“You really need to ask?” Michael taunts. He wraps his hand around mine, weaving our fingers together and giving a little squeeze. To all those watching, I’m sure it looks like a comforting gesture, big brother taking care of his younger sister. It’s not, though, and I wince when his fingernail presses into the nub where the pinkie finger of my left hand used to be. “Speaking of little fingers, tuck this hand into your pocket. We don’t need to parade that around, do we?”

When he releases my hand, I push it into my pocket.

With a jerk of his chin, he gestures to two men standing across the room, William and Richard Moore. Governor Richard Moore. Father and son. I wonder if they feel out of place considering the rest of the guest list.

Over the years, Dad had many meetings with the Moores. Richard and I were officially introduced on my eighteenth birthday with the understanding that after my college graduation, we’d be married and our families would be aligned.

“I’m not sure why you’re whining anyway. He’s not completely hideous and his wallet is thick,” Michael says.

I clench my jaw to bite back my words as he finishes his drink and sets the glass aside before adjusting the butterfly mask covering the top half of my face. He mutters his disappointment at my lack of costume. It is Halloween, after all.

“And don’t think I won’t punish you for this,” he says.

One look in his hard eyes and I have no doubt he will.

Someone calls his name and after giving me one more pointed look, he finally moves on.

Taking a flute of champagne from one of the serving staff hired with money we don’t have, I ignore my fiancé to be and sip from my glass. My gaze moves around the room. I recognize many of the faces behind the masks, family members and business associates of my father’s. Malek Lombardi, my father’s consigliere, now my brother’s, is among them. He catches my eye over the shoulder of the woman he’s talking to. His mask is pushed to the top of his head. He’s barely bothered with a costume himself. He gives a quick wink that makes my skin crawl. It’s to let me know he’s watched the whole interaction. He’s always watching. Even when Dad was alive, Malek was always on the sidelines, never missing a thing. The only difference is he’s less on the sidelines now.

I turn my back to him and swallow the remainder of my champagne, the bubbles tickling my throat. In my periphery I see Richard Moore begin to approach. I guess he’s finished waiting. I need to get out of here. I set my empty glass on a side table and head in the opposite direction, weaving through the crowd and down the hallway that will lead to my father’s study.

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