Trigger Warning ⚠️ ‼️ This book contains explicit sexual content, feral dominance, psychological obsession, sadistic control, graphic violence, degradation, and a brutal breeding kink. For mature readers only. Read at your own risk…or give in to the madness. She was just coming off a night shift. Scrubs still on. Exhausted. Bone-deep tired from another fourteen hours in the ER. She wanted food. A hot shower. Silence. What she got was blood. And him. Isadora Bell, twenty..three, top of her med school class and two years into her residency, made one mistake..she took the alley behind the hospital after her shift to avoid the rain. There, under flickering streetlights and the shadow of a gun, she watched a man get executed at close range. And the monster holding the gun? Dominic. Valenzo Head of the Valenzo crime family. Cold. Untouchable. Ruthless. He kills without flinching and fucks like it’s war. No one sees him and lives. No one touches him and breathes. But something about her made him stop. She should’ve screamed. Begged. Run. She just stared. He saw it in her eyes..curiosity. Fear. Heat. So he made a decision. “You’re mine now, little doctor. And the only thing you’ll be saving… is your breath when I’m done with you.” Now she’s trapped in a world of blood, diamonds, and depravity. Torn between what’s right and the man who ruins her every time. Because Dominic doesn’t make love. He claims. He destroys. He fucks until you forget who you were. And every time she swears she’s done, He makes her beg. This isn’t a love story. This is obsession. This is power. This is the kind of dark you don’t come back from.
View More“DO NOT FUCKING PLAY WITH ME, DIEGO!” Dominic Valenzo’s roar ripped through the alley as he stepped further clenching his jaw. “WHERE THE HELL IS MY MONEY?!”
Before Diego could even blink, Dominic’s fist slammed into his jaw, a brutal crunch of bone meeting bone. Diego’s head whipped back, blood bursting from his lips as his body crashed to the ground like a filth. He was more than just a soldier to Dominic. He was Dominic’s first. The first man to swear loyalty. The first man Dominic pulled from the gutters, cleaned up, gave a name, a purpose, a family. For over a decade, Diego was Dominic’s right hand. But beneath that loyalty, something festered. Jealousy. Dominic didn’t let up. He stalked forward, eyes black with fury, his breath sharp and ragged like a man on the edge of slaughter. He grabbed Diego by the collar, dragging him up to his knees, and slammed him against the freezing brick wall. “You thieving little fuck,” Dominic spat. “YOU THINK YOU COULD STEAL FROM ME AND FUCKING LIVE?!” Diego coughed violently, spitting blood as he tried to speak. “Dom, please…listen…” “SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH,” Dominic snapped, his hand shooting out and cracking across Diego’s cheek with a slap so loud it echoed down the alley. “YOU DON’T GET TO SAY MY NAME AFTER WHAT YOU DID.” “I…I didn’t have a choice…”Diego stammered, trembling. “They came for me… they threatened my daughter….” Dominic froze. Then slowly, he grinned. A cold, venomous grin that held no warmth. Only death. He knew tgis fucker was lying. “Oh. Now you want to play the fucking father?” he sneered. “Now you want to paint yourself as the victim, huh? Touching story. But you forgot one thing, Diego.” He leaned in, his face inches from Diego’s, and growled, “NON HAI UNA FIGLIA. SEI SOLO UN BUGIARDO.” [You don’t have a daughter. You’re just a fucking liar.] Diego’s eyes widened. His lips parted. But nothing came out. No defense. No more lies. Dominic shoved him to the ground. “You stole from me,” he hissed. “You didn’t just take money. YOU TOOK A FILE THAT COULD RIP EVERYTHING I BUILT INTO THE FUCKING DIRT. You took it and ran like a fucking coward. Like a RAT.” Blood pooled in Diego’s mouth as he tried to breathe, pain searing through his ribs. “They said they’d kill me… I didn’t know what to do…” “YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO DIE FOR ME!” Dominic shouted, eyes blazing. “YOU SWORE TO ME! YOU TOOK MY OATH. YOU DRANK MY BLOOD. YOU CALLED ME BROTHER!” He squatted down in front of him, slow and steady, the kind of calm that made the devil shiver. He reached into his coat and pulled out his gun, dragging the barrel along Diego’s blood-slicked cheek. “I RAISED YOU. I FED YOU. I CLEANED YOUR FUCKING SINS WHEN NOBODY ELSE WOULD.” He shoved the barrel between Diego’s lips. “AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?” He snarled against his ear. “SEI MORTO NEL MOMENTO IN CUI HAI SCELTO DI TRADIRMI.” [You died the moment you chose to betray me.] Diego whimpered around the gun, tears streaking down his bloodied face. Dominic pulled the gun back and cracked him across the face with it. “You were NOTHING before me. A twitchy junkie with no name. I made you into a man. Into a fucking soldier. I gave you power. And you traded all of it…for what? Coins and a fucking whisper? That’s all it took for you to turn on me?” Diego cried out. “I was scared! I thought they’d kill me!” “YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW FEAR?” Dominic screamed, his voice raw and guttural. “YOU THINK I HAVEN’T BURIED MEN WITH MY OWN HANDS? YOU THINK FEAR EXCUSES BETRAYAL?” He grabbed Diego by the throat. “YOU SOLD YOUR SOUL TO ME. NOT TO THEM. ME.” He forced the gun back into Diego’s mouth, pressed it hard against his tongue, until the man gagged and squirmed. “TI GUARDERÒ NEGLI OCCHI MENTRE TI TOGLIO L’ANIMA.” [I’m going to look you in the eyes while I rip your soul out.] “I WANT TO HEAR YOU CHOKE ON REGRET.” Diego sobbed, choking on his spit and metal. Dominic’s eyes locked on his, burning with hatred. “You see this face?” he whispered. “THE LAST FACE YOU’LL EVER SEE IS THE ONE YOU BETRAYED.” He ripped the gun away again, blood dripping from the barrel. “E ADESSO, FIGLIO DI PUTTANA… PREGHIERAI CHE TI AMMAZZI.” [And now, son of a bitch… you’re going to beg me to kill you.] Dominic stood up slowly, towering over him like judgment day itself. “Because mercy?” he whispered. “Mercy died when you opened that fucking file.” As Diego wheezed on the ground, a mangled, trembling heap of blood and broken bones. He looked messed up. But guess what Dominic wasn’t satisfied. Not even fucking close. Dominic took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and cracked his neck like he was just getting started. “You thought I was gonna make it quick?” he whispered with a smirk, walking around him in slowly. “No. No, no, no. I want you to feel every second of this.” He kicked Diego in the gut. Hard. The sound that came out of Diego’s mouth was something between a scream and a sob. Dominic crouched beside him again and pulled something from his coat…his silver ring. The one he wore when he first brought Diego into the family. “I gave you this,” Dominic said, showing it to him. “You cried when I slid it on your finger. Said you’d never take it off. Remember that?” He didn’t wait for a response. He gripped Diego’s trembling hand, yanked off the ring, and slammed it into his mouth. “Swallow it,” Dominic snarled. Diego choked, coughed, blood bubbling on his lips as he shook his head desperately. Dominic punched him in the throat. “SWALLOW IT, YOU FUCKING COWARD!” Diego gagged, choking on the ring until it slid down his throat with a wet gasp. He collapsed again, coughing, retching, but Dominic laughed in a husky tone. “You’re gonna carry my name in your guts to the grave, you fucking traitor,” he muttered. “That’s how deep I own you.” He stood again, breathing heavier now. Diego was sobbing, unable to even look up. His body twitched on the cold concrete, blood pooling beneath him. Dominic reached into his pocket, pulled out a switchblade, and crouched again. “You’re gonna wish I shot you first.” He sliced the blade across Diego’s forearm. Not deep enough to kill. Just enough to make him scream. Then again. And again. Dominic didn’t stop until blood poured like a river and Diego was crying like a child. “Tell me,” Dominic said, his voice eerily calm. “Did you scream like this when you handed them that file? Huh? Did you hesitate when you fucked me over?” He leaned in, blade now resting against Diego’s cheek. “Or did it feel good? Did it make you feel powerful? Like a man?” Diego shook his head, sobbing. “I was wrong…Dom…I was so wrong…I made a mistake….Please don’t kill me. I promise I’ll get the file back. I promise. I’ll get it back. Dominic pressed the tip of the blade just beneath Diego’s eye. Blood ran in thin streams. “No, Diego,” he whispered. “You didn’t make a mistake. You made a decision.” He pulled the blade away and shoved the gun back against Diego’s forehead, locking eyes with him. No mercy. No soul. Just cold, burning betrayal. “Tu hai scavato la tua fossa con le tue mani. Ora prega che io non ci sputi dentro prima di seppellirti.” [“You dug your grave with your own hands. Now pray I don’t spit in it before I bury you.”] Click. The trigger pulled halfway.“Good morning dom” her voice came out soft She didn’t look at him or wait for him to answer her. She stood slowly and walked naked to the mirror. The cold air kissed her skin as she stepped away from the heat of him, of the bed, of everything he was. Her reflection stared back at her, fucked open, thighs bruised, her nipples marked with bites and love and rage. Her lips were swollen. Her eyes were tired. And yet… there was something else. A glint of something. Then she saw it. Her phone. Her fucking phone. It was tucked between the folds of a throw on the chaise across the room, just where he must’ve slipped it. Hidden, half-covered, like he didn’t want her to find it but hadn’t had time to get rid of it either. Her breath caught. If she was fast— If she was smart— She could grab it. Make the call. Get the fuck out of this place. Before he changed again. Before the softness wore off. Before the devil remembered what he was. But then. “Good morning, baby,” his voi
The morning light bled slowly into the room as Isadora didn’t move. Her eyes were open, but her body refused to shift. Every inch of her throbbed. Her thighs were sore. Her cunt was pulsing. Her nipples ached from how roughly he’d played with them. Her ass still held the memory of his palm, his grip, his thrusts. But the pain wasn’t what held her still. It was him. Dominic Valenzo. His head was resting on her chest, turned toward her, lips slightly parted, breath warm against the curve of her breast. One arm was draped around her waist. The other hand, impossibly gentle, was tangled in her hair. Not yanking. Not fisting it to choke her. Just holding it like he needed the anchor. Her body was wrecked, used, dripping with his filth. She could feel it, the mess between her thighs still wet, still hot, her inner walls twitching around the absence of him. Her skin smelled like him. Her mouth tasted like him. Her cunt ached for him. And yet he hadn’t left. He was still here. In h
He didn’t stop. Not when she gasped. Not when her body arched like a bow strung too tight. Not when her hands scrambled for something to hold. He didn’t even give her a chance to breathe. He just pulled out halfway, then slammed back in, cock slapping wetly against the mess between her thighs, making her scream through clenched teeth. And then he fucking moved her. Grabbed both her legs. Hooked them under his arms. Raised them until her knees nearly touched her chest. Her pussy tilted up, soaked and ruined and raw, lips stretched wide and fluttering like they didn’t know how to close anymore. He stared at it. At the wreckage. At the way her hole gaped open for him, red and slick and drooling with every breath. Then he rammed in. All the way. The bed frame cracked under the force. He growled above her, sweat dripping from his jaw, muscles bulging with every brutal thrust as he leaned over her, both her legs still hooked in his arms, shoved up so far she couldn’t do anything bu
Then act like it. Her body moved before her mind caught up. That was the kind of ruin he’d carved into her. That was the kind of submission he’d branded beneath her skin. She didn’t crawl. She didn’t stumble. She dragged herself across the floor like a possessed thing, like a girl who no longer remembered what she was, only that she needed him. That she belonged to him. That nothing else in the fucking world mattered except the taste of him, the sound of his voice, and the feeling of her mouth choking on the cock that had turned her from a woman into an offering. Dominic didn’t speak. He just watched. He stood there like a god carved from sin and bone, his cock still hard, still dripping, still twitching with the promise of more. His eyes were black, unreadable, seething with hunger that had no bottom. She felt it, even with her head bowed, even with her fingers shaking as she reached for him. It burned over her like heat from a fire too close, like her skin would peel if she
The air was fucking hot ans heavy at the same time. Loaded with tension so thick it could strangle.Isadora was still bent over the chair, chest heaving, throat sore from screaming, cunt twitching around the cock that refused to move.She was panting.Crying.Soaking the wood beneath her.And he was still inside her.Still full.Still hard.He leaned down.Pressed his chest against her back.Bit her shoulder.“I don’t fuck in front of people when it’s real,” he growled into her skin.She moaned.“I don’t share what’s mine.”She sobbed.“I don’t love. But I fucking obsess.”He dragged his teeth down her spine, licking sweat, tasting surrender.“Your pussy is mine now. Your screams. Your tears. Your breath. Your blood. Your name.”He pulled out just to the tip.She cried out.Then he slammed back in.The chair rocked.Her body broke.Her hands clawed the wood as he fucked her again, deep and ruthless, no rhythm, no build-up, just raw destruction of her pussy. Her cunt clung to him lik
Her lips parted because she couldn’t stop them. Not anymore. Not after watching him ruin the virgin like she was a chew toy instead of a girl. Not after the sixth orgasm. Not after that raw, brutal fucking that made the walls shake. Not after the sounds of wetness and flesh and bone..deep groans had crawled under her skin and festered like fever.His cock touched her lips.She opened wider.Not because she was ready. But because her mouth was already drooling for it. Because her breath caught in her throat at the taste of the girl still on him. Because when he pushed just the tip between her lips, her whole fucking body jerked like he’d lit a match inside her.Her tongue flattened.He slid in deeper.His fingers tangled in her hair and gripped tight, dragging her face to meet his thrust like her mouth was the next cunt to use. No warning. No tease. Just possession.Her lips stretched.Her jaw ached.Her throat fought it.And he moaned.A sound like thunder inside his chest. Like app
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