Under the Influence Read Online Sarah Amelle

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
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She’s a Mafia princess but he definitely isn’t Prince Charming…

The once prized daughter of New York’s infamous La Costa Nostra, Sophia Falcone was the untouchable Mafia princess.
Croccifixio ‘Rocco’ De Luca is danger with a red warning sign.
The youngest Don in the five families of New York with the face of a saint but the reputation of a sinner, the darkest kind.
Murder and vice run through Rocco’s veins like the blood that runs through hers.
Sophia’s resistance to fall for his icy gray eyes and destructive smile commences the start of a sizzling power struggle between them, with neither willing to relinquish control.
As a tempestuous passion between them begins to brew, Sophia soon realizes every step towards the temptation of Rocco is a step towards a terrible secret escaping.
Lust, lies and betrayal collide as Sophia tries to conquer her past, can she keep her promise of not falling for a made man?

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“We were destined to meet no matter the distance, we return to each other again and again. It’s that once in a lifetime connection, the ones that make you feel more alive just sitting next to them; even the silence is comfortable because you feel more complete in their presence. I don’t know what it is about him…only that when I look into his eyes I see a reflection of my soul staring back at me.”

—N.R.Hart

“Gangsters live for the action. The closer to death, the nearer to the heated coil of the moment, the more alive they feel.”

—Lorenzo Carcaterra

GREEN EYES SUPPOSEDLY SIGNIFY A MYSTERIOUS PERSONALITY TRAIT.

I don’t know if I am mysterious, but secrets I have a lot of them. Buried tight and hidden away.

Submerged in the darkest and deepest places of my consciousness. Contrary to popular belief, the truth will not set you free, at least not in this case because if anybody ever found out the truth, life as I knew it would be over.

“Once I had love, it was divine, soon found out I was losing my mind. it seemed like the real thing but I was so blind, mucho mistrust, love’s gone behind.” Blondie reverberates the room as I attempt to sing along with her, unsuccessfully.

“Lost your mind indeed.” Mama’s voice comes from behind me and almost makes me jump out of my skin. She has a habit of sneaking up on you when you least expect it.

Mama gives me one of her famous sideways knowing looks, and instinctively I know what her look is referring to even if she doesn’t say anything.

“I’m almost ready, Ma,” I say, ignoring the growing tension in the air.

“I wish you wouldn’t call me that,” she says, annoyed.

“Would you prefer if I called you Gabriella instead?” I smirk.

“It’s just you and me tonight, papa has other commitments,” she says, ignoring me.

Other commitments is code for ‘Mafia business,’ and it always amuses me how coy she is about what Papa does, as if I’d really believe that the mansion, the cars, and the private jet were all a result of him working a regular job. The thought of it almost makes me laugh out loud.

My Papa would rather die than be a law-abiding citizen. There is nothing ordinary about Paolo Falcone, the notorious Don of the Falcone family, one of the five founding families of New York’s La Cosa Nostra. Respected as much as he was feared, papa is not a man to be disrespected in any way, and if you ever did cross Don Paolo Falcone, it was likely to be the last thing you did.

Mama feigned ignorance to ‘his ways’ and constantly implored the ‘don’t ask, don’t tell policy’ that most women in our circles followed so rigorously.

“The florist called and said you haven’t gotten back to them about arrangements,” she says icily.

“I will call them back,” I say, sighing.

“Yes, you will,” she says firmly, giving me another one of her famous scathing looks before walking out the room.

It wasn’t that I didn’t love Ma, it was just that we were complete opposites. My refusal to conform to her expectations of a Mafia daughter had caused a rift between us, and in the last few years, that rift had become a permanent fracture.

One year ago seemed so far away when I agreed to the marriage but now, like the sands of an hourglass, time seems to be slipping through my fingers at an alarming rate. When I say I agreed, it was never like I had a choice; it was more of a rhetorical question. There is no romance or courtship involved in these matters, Mafia matters.

The famous La Cosa Nostra didn’t have time for sentiment and heartfelt meaning. Papa’s business is organized crime in every shape or form. I knew he was a Don—a powerful Mafia head, and I knew what that meant. In the Mafia, marriage is two families coming together and strengthening each of their business interests. In this case, papa would lose nothing and gain everything, our family held the most strings, controlling every hand and transaction in the city; that is how he wanted to keep it. On my twenty-first birthday, I formally became betrothed to Pietro Rossi, the son of Don Vincenzo Rossi, therefore, fortifying the relationship between two of the most powerful families in New York. It wasn’t explained to me in these exact words, but living apart of this world, I learned at an early age to read between the lines. I had spent my adolescence overhearing things I wasn’t meant to, something I would later come to regret. Seeing what my papa and all my ‘uncles’ were truly capable of left me with an uneasy feeling, and all the fancy clothes and expensive vacations couldn’t rid me of the fact that I knew it was all tainted.


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