What Happens When Bratva Boss Meets Glitter Glue?

Tavisha Khushanov is a spoiled, protected third-generation Russian/American Bratva Princess. Whatever the Princess wanted, she was given by the hard, muscled men of her father's Bratva. He is the Pakhan, their Leader; his word is law, and he administers it brutally. It's a small, tight community set in the heart of Houston, Texas. Outsiders are not welcome and actively discouraged. Killian O'Hara is a third-generation Irish/American, the leader of The Oasis Blues Motorcycle Club, situated in Galveston, Texas. They have been dealing with the Houston Bratva for decades. Their fathers and grandfathers worked together, keeping the peace and always having each other's backs. When Pavel Khushanov decides to double-cross the Bikers, involving the FBI and CIA and gets Killian arrested. War is declared, and Tavisha becomes collateral damage, a hostage to her name, but she is not what Killian expects.

I had loved Damian Moretti from a distance for two years. He was my boss, the untouchable heir to one of New York's most dangerous families, and the kind of man no woman should want unless she was ready to be ruined. Then he handed me a lipstick. At first, I thought it was just a gift. Until I touched it, and Damian Moretti, the coldest man in the room, almost came apart in front of everyone. That was when I learned his secret. The lipstick was bound to him. Every touch, every twist, every swipe of color, he felt it. He had not given me a present. He had handed me power over him. And when the office started whispering, when another woman tried to claim what was mine, Damian finally showed everyone the truth. The ruthless Moretti heir only knelt for one woman. Me.

"Do you know what happens if I take you and mark you right now, Addie?" His deep, feral voice came, and he saw her gulping. "What?" She asked breathlessly, surprised that she didn't stutter. "It means every inch of you will become mine..." He growled, caressing her lips with his thumb. "Your lips," Adeline held her breath as he trailed the hand down the slope of her chest, squeezing her nipples torturously. "Master... "Your breasts," he groaned, adjusting himself behind her. He spanked her ass. "Ah!" She gasped at the instant sting. "Your ass," he sounded, then dragged his hand down her shamelessly wet pussy. "Ohh," Adeline moaned impatiently as he parted the folds of her cûnt and inserted a finger inside. "And your pussy," he declared in finality. As if confirming his dirty words, her hungry soaked pussy clenched around the finger. "If any man as much as touches you..." He warned, grabbing her by the throat. Adeline whimpered sharply. "He'll end up in a shallow grave, and you'll end up getting tied to my bed and fucked so hard my name will be the only thing you remember." -- After spending five years behind bars for the murder of her parents, the truth about Adeline's case slipped. Her boyfriend—Corey, killed her parents to steal their investments and framed her. Now, Adeline's thirst for revenge needed satiation. To bring a man like Corey to his knees, she needed strength. She proceeded to Russia where she joined The Bratva, disguised as a man. But the moment her trainer—the most psychotic man in Russia, set eyes on her, he knew she was a woman, and the demons in his head requested for her pieces. Break her. Ruin her. Make her your dirty little toy. And him? He took it too serious.

“Beg me to lick you, malysh.” There was no way in hell I’d beg him. But that was until his finger slid into my pussy, stretching me at a deliciously slow curl. “Please.” I whimpered, trembling. “Say it like you mean it, baby.” “Lick me, please,” I panted. It was hard not to with the way his finger was curling inside me, hitting my g-spot repeatedly. °•°•°• Do you crave men who dominate every room they walk into? Men who won’t hesitate to destroy anyone who dares threaten what’s theirs? Men as lethal as they are possessive, yet drop to their knees for the one woman who sets their cold hearts on fire? Meet the Kings of the Bratva—ruthless, dangerous, and utterly unstoppable. From brutal assassins to stolen brides, these stories will drag you into a world of forbidden love, raw passion, and unrelenting danger. Arranged marriages, deadly betrayals, and second chances that will shatter your soul—these men live by their own rules, and their women? They’re the ones bold enough to break them. Love isn’t soft here—it’s a war, a fire that consumes everything in its path. These men will fight, kill, and burn for the ones they claim. The Kings of the Bratva don’t just promise passion—they deliver obsession. Are you ready to meet them?

If you are going to be BAD, then you have to do it the BAD way... It's pretty simple: 1) Don't get caught 2) Always have a Plan B 3) If all else fails... Run...Run for your life! Everyone has a bad side. Some try to deny it's existence, some hide it and others well...they rule the world with it. In the book of being BAD, there are ninety-nine formulas for world domination... Number one: You aren't BAD until you can walk around the school dressed in all pink and have everyone afraid to approach you. Number two: You aren't BAD until you can break into a certain bad boys house and well... do the wrong kinds of stuff. Number three: You aren't bad until quite frankly, you have declared vengeance against the bad boy. ~*~ "I heard you like bad boys," Blade says with a vivid smirk on his face. I glared up at him, without responding clenching my fists fighting the urge to punch him in the face. "So...?" He says after a couple of seconds of silence. "So what?" "So what do you think...Tinker Bell?" He says emphasizing on the stupid name. His face moved closer to mine and I stared back into his green eyes, watching the fire inside ignite. I smirked, "Then find me one." Blade grins at my witty retort and shrugs it off. "I look at you and I see cotton candy, but then you open your mouth... and suddenly you turn into liquorice," he scoffs. "Welcome to the game bitch, your move, now let's play."

Amelia Prescott needs a paycheck, not a death wish. But when a desperate nanny agency drops her into a snowbound mansion with a brooding Russian mobster and his unnervingly silent daughter, she discovers that danger wears expensive suits—and keeps juice boxes in the pantry. Dmitri Volkov doesn’t trust strangers. Especially not ones who talk too much, smile too easily, and make his daughter laugh for the first time in a year. But the storm outside isn’t the only threat coming, and protecting what’s his might mean letting someone in—for the first time since he lost everything. A glitter bomb romance where chaos meets control—and hearts learn how to speak again.