Dark Romance · Mafia
Accardi
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The Synopsis
What it's about
“I thought we discussed this earlier, Weakness? I warned you. His death is on your hands.” “I thought you said you were done chasing me?” Gen mocked. “I am done chasing you.” Before she could formulate a witty remark, Matteo threw her down. She landed hard on her back atop his dining room table. She tried to sit up when she noticed what he was doing. His hands were working on his belt. It came free of his pants with a violent yank. She collapsed back on her elbows, her mouth gaping open at the display. His face was a mask of sheer determination, his eyes were a dark gold swimming with heat and desire. His hands wrapped around her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the table. He glided his fingers up her thighs and hooked several around the inside of her panties. His knuckles brushed her dripping sex. “You’re soaking wet, Genevieve. Tell me, was it me that made you this way or him?” his voice told her to be careful with her answer. His knuckles slid down through her folds and she threw her head back as she moaned. “Weakness?” “You…” she breathed. Genevieve loses a bet she can’t afford to pay. In a compromise, she agrees to convince any man her opponent chooses to go home with her that night. What she doesn’t realize when her sister’s friend points out the brooding man sitting alone at the bar, is that man won’t be okay with just one night with her. No, Matteo Accardi, Don of one of the largest gangs in New York City doesn’t do one night stands. Not with her anyway.
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🧭 Six weeks ago, I had that wild night with a mysterious stranger in Manhattan—no name, no story, just raw, unforgettable passion.💔 Now I’m standing here in my tiny Brooklyn apartment, staring at two pink lines on a pregnancy test. "Ma’am, come with me." A man in a sharp suit suddenly appears at my door. No introduction. Just authority. "Who the hell are you?" I step back, my hand instinctively covering my stomach. But a voice crackles through his earpiece: "Target secured. Moving to extraction." Before I can even scream, I’m escorted to a helicopter—waiting on the roof of my damn apartment building. Who even has access up there?! The city skyline blurs beneath us as panic surges through me. Where are you taking me? And then I see him—the man from that night. But he’s not in designer jeans and a casual shirt anymore. He’s wearing a flawless suit, surrounded by bodyguards. Matteo Accardi. The name hits me like a punch. The cold-blooded king of New York’s underworld. His eyes—usually icy and detached in those rare gossip photos—are now fixed on my abdomen with an intensity that makes me shiver. "Welcome," he says, his accent richer, darker than I remembered, "to your new home." "I don’t understand—" He smiles, and it chills me straight to the bone. "You didn’t think I wouldn’t find out, did you? That night was no accident. I’ve been watching you for months." He moves closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Now you’re carrying the Accardi heir. The question is… are you ready to be my queen?" ad.readinkapp.com Accardi
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