Does Dorian Romance Have A Happy Ending?

-WARNING 20+ ONLY CAN READ THIS!-If you are not a fan of MATURE ROMANCE DONT READ THIS! This story is completion of different types of romance, if you are interested you can read this!

BLURB I stare numbly at the man before me, my eyes already burning with hot, salty tears. “Did I not make it clear that you’re mine?” He growls sharply. “How many times do I have to tell you that you belong to me, Aella? You’re mine. This wedding is going to happen… and there’s nothing you or anyone else can do to stop me.” I shut my eyes, finally loosing the battle with my tears as they stream down my cheeks in torrents. I turn to the priests desperately. Right now, he’s my only hope. “Don’t I get a choice, priest? Isn’t my consent needed for this?” Roman takes another step forward and this time, I’m pressed up against his hot, hard chest. “Do not start a war you cannot finish, princess. This marriage is happening. Until death do us part.” ________________ What would you do if you walked into school one day to see your best friend aggressively locking lips with your boyfriend? Aella is the average New York college girl. However, her life takes a dark turn when she arrives at school one day to the horrible sight of her so-called best friend and her boyfriend, Roman, making out at the library. Hurt and betrayed, Aella runs out of the building only to be hit by a car. Waking up from a two year long coma, she finds Roman waiting for her with only one mission in mind……. to make sure she forgives him and takes him back. Because she belongs to him and him alone. Aella tries to refuse him but her parents are indebted to him and there's no escaping his trap. He’s the darkest of all the gods… and her worst nightmare.

She married him to save her father's life. He married her to settle a debt. Neither of them expected to fall in love. Isabella Romano never wanted this life. She grew up watching her father drown in debts he couldn't repay, surrounded by men who smiled while they threatened. She wanted freedom — a future she chose for herself. Instead, she got a wedding dress, a stranger's ring, and a debt paid in full through her own hand in marriage. Dante Moretti is the coldest don their world has ever feared. He took control of his family's empire at twenty-three and buried his heart alongside the woman he lost. To him, Isabella isn't a wife. She's a payment. A term in a contract he never wanted to sign. But their wedding day doesn't end quietly. A traitor is dragged from the crowd in chains, blood staining the white flowers, and a warning whispers through the garden: someone close to Dante wants him destroyed. As Isabella is pulled deeper into a world of danger and betrayal, she begins to notice the man hiding behind the don — and a cousin whose ambition hides behind a charming smile. Slowly, dangerously, Isabella becomes the one person Dante can't afford to lose — and the one person who might finally teach him how to feel again. Because somewhere between the cold rules of his house and the warmth she refuses to let him extinguish, Dante starts to understand that love isn't the weakness he always believed it to be. But in this family, nothing comes free. Not loyalty. Not power. And certainly not love. When the past finally catches up to them, Dante will have to choose: the empire he built his life around — or the woman who taught him to want something.

When the lights came on at the end of the graduation party, the spotlight suddenly shifted and froze on a young couple kissing passionately at the back of the auditorium. The young man held up a bouquet of roses and shouted to the crowd, “Sophie, be my girlfriend!” The moment the girl covered her face and nodded, the cheers in the hall nearly lifted the roof. Amid the thunderous applause, my hand trembled around my phone. The screen still showed the message he had sent half an hour earlier. Rowan: [Wait for me. I’ll come to you right away.] After the party, I took off the couple’s bracelet from my wrist and threw it into the gutter, along with four years of love.

My adoptive brother, Don Cassian. I loved him. The rival family drugged him. He had me pinned down. His hands on my breasts. He was hard, his eyes filled with a desperate hunger for me. But I shoved him off. Ran out the door. And called my best friend, Camilla. "Cassian's in the master bedroom. Get here. Now." I locked myself in the bathroom, letting the cold water wash away the fire he’d started in me. I remembered the last time. In my past life, when Cassian kissed me, I didn't say no. We made love all night. I thought my ten-year crush was finally mine. Then came St. Patrick's Cathedral. The Vitelli family's sapphire ring, passed down for three generations. The blessing of the Elders. I had everything I ever wanted. But the day after the wedding, I got the news. My best friend, Camilla, was dead. An overdose of antidepressants in her apartment. I was on the phone, crying for her, when a knife went through my chest from behind. I turned. It was Cassian, his face twisted with hate. "If you hadn't blackmailed me with those ledgers—if you hadn't forced your way into my bed—Camilla would still be alive. You have to pay for this!" That's when I understood. He never married me for love. It was all because of a whisper from Camilla: "Aurora controls the family's money. She can ruin you with a phone call." And a warning from the Elders: "Don, you must marry her. She knows too much." So this time, I stepped aside. I let them have each other. But why? Why did he come after me, his eyes red, looking like he'd lost his mind? "Aurora," he begged. "Why don't you love me anymore?"

Ten years with Don Maximus. I went from the crazy girl who demanded his "undying loyalty" at gunpoint to Chicago's perfect Donna. When Maximus took the casino's hottest stripper to his private room, I didn't lose my mind. Instead, I tossed the woman the keys to a Manhattan penthouse. When Maximus's new flame threw a tantrum at a yacht party, I didn't bat an eye. Instead, after she slapped a waiter in a fit of pique, I made the police problem go away. When Maximus fought with one of his girls, I'd even send her a limited-edition Birkin to smooth things over. And today, Maximus is busy fucking his hot new toy in the study, while another pregnant mistress stands on the estate's rooftop, threatening to jump just to see him. And I'm still the one in my red-bottom heels, calmly going to clean up his mess. The mistress screamed, desperate. "I'm not having this baby! Get Maximus!" I took a sip of my wine, my voice bored. "He's busy today. You have the baby, and I'll make sure seven figures show up in your offshore account." My indifference set her off. She grabbed my wrist, her grip like iron. "You're pathetic, Angelina! There was a time he wouldn't even look at another woman because of you. He slaughtered an entire family for you. When you were shot, he knelt in the pouring rain outside a church, begging God to take his life for yours! But now? You can't even get into his bed. All you can do is stand here and play the gracious Donna!" Her nails left red marks on my skin, but the smile on my face didn't crack. Did she really think a little drama would change anything? I wasn't playing the gracious Donna. I was just done. And I was finally ready to let Maximus go.