I’ll admit—I wrote this story to tempt you. To make you ache for the kiss that could start a war, to want the touch that should never be allowed. If your heart races, if your breath catches, if you find yourself craving just one more page… then I’ve done my job.

Thank you for stepping into this world with me. Let the hunger consume you—razor sharp, and impossible to resist.

With sinful whispers,

Isabella Romano

• Age: Mid-20s

• Role: Mafia princess, daughter of Don Vittorio Romano

• Appearance: Dark, glossy hair, gray eyes,lips made for secrets. Always dressed in silk and velvet, a woman meant to be admired but never touched.

• Personality: Intelligent, sharp-tongued, secretly rebellious. She’s been groomed to be untouchable—but beneath the surface, she burns with forbidden desires.

• Conflict: Torn between her loyalty to her family and the craving she feels for the one man she can never have.

Matteo DeLuca

• Age: Early 30s

• Role: Ruthless enforcer for the DeLuca family, sworn enemy of the Romanos

• Appearance: Tall, broad shoulders, scars that tell stories, tattoos hidden beneath tailored suits. Dark, dangerous eyes that promise both sin and ruin.

• Personality: Brutal, calculating, but with a darkly magnetic charm. A man who takes what he wants—yet finds himself unable to resist Isabella’s fire.

• Conflict: Duty tells him to destroy her family. Lust makes him want to claim her.

Supporting Characters

Don Vittorio Romano

• Role: Isabella’s father, head of the Romano family

• Personality: Cold, strategic, ruthless. Loves his daughter but sees her as a piece in his empire, not as a woman with desires.

Chiara Romano

• Role: Isabella’s cousin and confidante

• Personality: Sharp and Loyal, the one person Isabella can be honest with. May suspect Isabella’s secret desires before anyone else.

Adriano Romano

• Role: Isabella’s older brother, heir to the family throne

• Personality: Fiercely protective, arrogant, quick to violence. Would kill Matteo without hesitation if he knew the truth.

Lorenzo DeLuca

• Role: Matteo’s cousin and rival within the DeLuca clan

• Personality: Ambitious, jealous, always watching Matteo. He’s a ticking time bomb for betrayal.

Don Salvatore DeLuca

• Role: Head of the DeLuca crime family, Matteo’s uncle

• Personality: Cruel, calculating, less refined than Don Vittorio Romano but just as ruthless. He rules through fear, not respect.

• Appearance: Thick build, salt-and-pepper hair, piercing blue eyes that see everything.

• Conflict: Wants to crush the Romanos once and for all and expects Matteo to be his weapon.

Giulia DeLuca

• Role: Don Salvatore’s daughter (Matteo’s cousin)

• Personality: Sharp, ambitious, seductive. She uses charm to get her way, but behind her beauty is poison.

• Possible Twist: She possibly intrigued by Matteo, do not care if he is cousin.

Niccolò DeLuca

• Role: Matteo’s younger brother

• Personality: More reckless and hot-headed than Matteo, quick to draw a gun, but not as calculating. Fiercely loyal to Matteo.

• Conflict: Doesn’t trust Isabella and would spill blood to keep Matteo focused on family loyalty.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Velvet Hunger was born from the idea of forbidden desire—the kind that makes your pulse race, that you know you shouldn’t touch, but you can’t resist. I wanted Isabella and Matteo’s story to feel like velvet against the skin—soft, decadent, but with a dangerous edge that cuts deep.

This is a mafia romance drenched in sin. It’s not just about power and blood—it’s about the kind of hunger that devours reason, pride, and sometimes even loyalty. Isabella isn’t just a princess in a gilded cage; she’s a woman who dares to taste the fire she’s been warned against. And Matteo? He’s every warning wrapped in temptation.

Isabella

The Romano mansion glittered like a crown under the Naples moon. Golden chandeliers spilled light onto marble floors, where silk gowns swished and men in dark suits whispered in corners. Laughter rose and fell, but it wasn’t joy—it was strategy, alliances wrapped in charm.

And in the center of it all was me.

Isabella Romano. The Don’s only daughter. A jewel on display.

Every step I took, eyes followed. Every smile was measured, soft enough to seem sweet, sharp enough to keep them guessing. My father taught me how to wear perfection like a mask, but tonight the mask felt heavy. I was tired of the stares, the fake compliments, the way even my own cousins looked at me as if I were just another piece on my father’s chessboard.

So I slipped away.

The night air was cool when I pushed open the garden doors. The hum of voices dimmed behind me, replaced by the soft song of crickets. The garden was alive with roses, hundreds of them, their petals dark as wine, their thorns like tiny daggers.

I bent toward one bloom, inhaling the sweetness. On impulse, I leaned closer, letting the tip of my tongue brush a velvet petal. The taste was faint, delicate. My secret moment, mine alone.

Or so I thought.

A shadow moved.

I froze, lips still close to the rose. Slowly, I straightened, my pulse quickening. A man stood at the edge of the path, half in darkness, half in moonlight. Broad shoulders. Sharp jaw. A suit that stretched over muscle.

He shouldn’t be here.

When he stepped forward, I saw the truth in his eyes—danger, amusement, hunger.

“Careful, princess,” he said, his voice deep, rough with a lazy kind of threat. “Roses bite back.”

My stomach tightened. I knew that voice, even if I had never heard it so close. Matteo DeLuca. The DeLuca family’s enforcer. The enemy.

He had no right to be inside our walls, in my father’s house. And yet here he was, staring at me as if he owned the night.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I whispered.

His smirk curved slow and deliberate. “Neither should you.”

Heat flushed through me, and I hated it. I should have been afraid. Instead, I couldn’t breathe.

⸻

Matteo

I didn’t come here for her.

The Romano mansion was crawling with guards, but slipping past them was easy. I’d been in worse places. Don Salvatore wanted me to listen, to watch, to see what the Romanos were planning. Nothing more.

But then I saw her.

Isabella Romano. The mafia princess.

I’d seen her in photos, across rooms, in passing when our worlds brushed too close. But up close—she was something else. Silk wrapped around curves, lips stained with red wine, eyes that pretended to be soft but hid fire. She was temptation dressed like innocence.

And then she put her tongue on a rose.

Fuck.

It was such a small thing, but it punched the air out of me. The most protected girl in Naples, alone in the garden, licking a rose petal like she wanted to know how it tasted. No one would believe it if I told them. And maybe that’s why I couldn’t stay hidden.

I stepped forward. I wanted her to see me.

“Careful, princess. Roses bite back.”

She froze, those big eyes locking on me. She should have screamed, should have run back to the safety of her father’s men. Instead, she stood there, lips parted, chest rising fast.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered, voice shaking just enough to stir something dark in me.

I smirked. “Neither should you.”

For a second, it felt like the world held still. Just her and me. No families. No blood feuds. Just the forbidden pull between us.

But I knew better.

She was Romano blood, and I was DeLuca steel. Touching her would be the kind of mistake men didn’t live to regret.

And yet… I couldn’t look away.

⸻

Isabella

The air between us felt charged, heavy, like the moment before lightning struck. His eyes burned into me, stripping away the perfect smile I wore for everyone else. I felt bare, exposed, alive.

I should have turned back to the party. I should have called the guards. Instead, I asked, “Why are you here?”

He tilted his head, studying me the way a predator studies prey. “Why are you?”

My breath caught. He wasn’t supposed to make me feel this way—like he could see right through me.

“Go back inside, princess,” he said, voice low. “Before someone finds us.”

But his tone told another story. He didn’t want me to leave. And God help me, I didn’t want to.

The sound of laughter drifted from the mansion, breaking the spell. For a heartbeat, I thought he’d reach for me, pull me into the shadows. Instead, he gave me one last look—hungry, dangerous—then melted back into the darkness.

I stood there, heart pounding, the taste of roses still on my tongue, knowing nothing would ever be the same.