Who Said The Most Iconic Moment Quotes In TV Series?

The last place expected to see my last hookup was at my mother's wedding and worse, he's my new stepbrother. My mother and his father hoped we would get along, how do I tell them we have gotten along just not in the way they think? Extract: “Fratello,” he murmured, his lips curling into that maddening grin. “What?” My chest tightened. “That’s your safe word,” he said. “Say it once, and everything stops. I won’t touch you again. From that moment, I’ll only ever treat you as my stepbrother.” Even as he spoke, his hand gripped me, and I gasped, trembling. My body betrayed me, responding in ways I hated and craved all at once. “Until you say that word,” he whispered, eyes dark with something between amusement and hunger, “you’re mine. Mine, brother.” This is a dark mm romance with dub-con/CNC, blood play, knife play, robe play, light bdsm, kidnapping of MMC, torture, murder and possessive behavior. If you have any of these triggers, please do not continue. This book is only suitable for readers over 18. Contains graphic sexual scenes, bad language and unprotected intercourse.

My words can kill. Whatever I say comes true. When I was eight, my cruel adoptive father kicked me into an icy river. I glared at him and said furiously, "You'll drown if you go into water." The next day, he drowned in a stinking ditch where the water barely reached his knees. After realizing I could really kill people, I was so scared I stopped talking and became a mute. A year ago, I was taken back to the Shaw family. In order to stay with the family that I'd finally found after all these years, I absolutely refused to speak. But one day, after Jackie Shaw took a sip of the drink I brought him, he suddenly convulsed and fell to the floor, his face turning purple. A maid screamed in terror, "There's peanut powder in the drink!" Before I could even say anything, my twin sister, Violet, kicked the coffee table, grabbed my hair, and pressed me down hard onto the broken glass shards. "You know Jackie is severely allergic to peanuts! How could you poison him?!" After Mom gave Jackie an emergency injection, she turned around and slapped me hard. "I can't believe I gave birth to a malicious monster like you!" Dad's face was ashen. He splashed boiling tea all over me. "You heartless, vicious ingrate! I can't believe you tried to kill Jackie out of jealousy!" Boiling water mixed with blood dripped down my face, and I clenched my teeth tightly. They had no idea that if I truly wanted him dead, I wouldn't even need to poison him. I just had to speak. Like this. I slowly looked up at Jackie, and my lips moved...

My silence could grant life. My words could condemn someone to death. My adoptive father loved to drink. Whenever he got drunk, he would whip me with his belt. He broke seven of my ribs, and I stared him down. “You broke my bones. I’ll make you wither.” The next instant, the old compressor suddenly roared to life and drained every drop of blood from his body. My adoptive mother loved showing off. She stole a thick gold bracelet, then framed me for it. After she slapped me until my mouth bled, I said coldly, “You slapped me. I’ll make you lose your hands.” In the blink of an eye, all ten of her fingers twisted at impossible angles, every single one broken! From then on, I knew I was a monster, so I kept my mouth shut and pretended to be mute until half a year ago, when my biological parents brought me back to the city. To make it up to me, the whole family went on a trip over the summer holiday. But my younger adoptive brother, Evan Lowe, suddenly rushed up to me with a glass of water in hand, clutching his throat as he began to vomit violently. His face was deathly pale, and even his voice trembled. “Edwin, I know you hate me, but why did you put bleach in my water… “It could burn through someone’s intestines and kill them!” Mom came running out at the sound, then swung around and slapped me hard across the face. “You ungrateful little brat! You actually tried to kill Evan!” Dad rushed over too, his face dark as he kicked me to the ground. “So this is what you learned growing up in the middle of nowhere—nothing but bitterness and jealousy! Get over here, get on your knees, and apologize!” I collapsed onto the floor and watched Evan hide behind Mom, a smug smile curling at the corner of his lips. Fine. I clenched my teeth tightly. Since they wanted me to kneel and speak so badly, I would grant their wish! My gaze darkened as I fixed my eyes on Evan’s and slowly opened my mouth…

"She was my siren. My unearthly creature, far more beautiful than any angel. I was getting lost in her ocean blue eyes and she was making my heart skip a beat every time she smiles. She was the beginning and the end of all my days, she was my reason to wake up and live a better life. She was my whole life. And my undoing..."

In the VIP lounge of an underground casino, Maeve, the Falcone family's princess, had been plied with too much hard liquor. Fueled by alcohol, someone goaded her into revealing the most shameless thing she'd ever done to win over the Don. She swirled her glass, pointed at me dealing cards behind the table, and threw her head back with a laugh. "Seven years ago, when Declan was in a coma after a shootout, I took his private phone. And I deleted the distress message that bitch sent him. Every last trace of it. Then I replied in his name: You're a burden. Go die." "You'll never guess what happened next. That idiot stood outside the safe house all night in a downpour, like a stray dog. I almost died laughing…" The room erupted in crude laughter. Only the man enthroned at the head of the table remained silent. The crystal whiskey glass in his hand shattered with a sharp crack. Blood mixed with the amber liquor, trickling over the veins on the back of his hand before dripping onto the carpet. His murderous, bloodshot eyes were locked on me. I calmly dealt the last hole card in front of him and offered a clean, white silk handkerchief. "Don Declan, you should wipe your hand. Blood on the felt is bad luck." After all, some stains never wash out.

I should step back. But I don’t. His hand slides to my waist, firm, deliberate. Not asking. Claiming. My stomach tightens, heat curling low, and I feel every inch of him before I even see him. He’s behind me, close enough that I can feel his breath at my neck. My pulse stutters as his fingers trace slow, unhurried circles up my back, and I know I should pull away… but I can’t. His lips brush my neck. Not a kiss yet, just the promise of it. My head tilts back before I can stop myself, back arching like my body is betraying me. Then he speaks. Low, calm, in control “Don’t make a sound.” A shiver runs through me. Not from fear. Not exactly. From… him. He’s in control. I can’t fight it. I don’t want to. And somewhere deep inside, I realize the terrifying truth: I’m letting him have me.