Armored Mewtwo

I spent six months and a quarter million dollars to secure a week in Sicily. But when my husband’s childhood obsession, Chiara, cried nostalgia into his ear, Dante didn’t hesitate. He removed my name from the armored motorcade roster and replaced it with hers. He told me to take a commercial flight alone through rival family territory—a route where three associates had “disappeared” last month. The entire famiglia supported Dante’s decision without a single thought for my safety. So I changed my itinerary. I boarded a plane to Monaco instead of Palermo. I spent three months at the roulette tables, ignoring their frantic calls. That was when the famiglia started to bleed…

Sonia Martinez, 20, has eyes that have seen too much and a heart armored by a childhood scarred by domestic warfare. Screams, slammed doors, and broken promises defined her early years, teaching her that love is a dangerous illusion. Emotional walls weren't a choice—they were survival. While others dreamed of romance, Sonia became a fortress, determined never to fall victim to heartbreak. Then comes Alex Rodriguez—charming, persistent, and exactly the kind of man she’s sworn to avoid. Their first meeting crackles with tension; the second ignites a chemistry too intense to ignore. But Sonia is no easy conquest. To her, relationships are emotional landmines, and she’s not about to let her guard down. Yet Alex isn’t easily shaken. With a shadowed past and secrets of his own, he’s determined to prove that not all love stories end in pain. As danger looms and old wounds resurface, Sonia faces a pivotal choice: cling to the safety of her walls or risk everything for a chance at healing. Their story isn’t just about falling in love—it’s about surviving it.

I was a top-tier heart surgeon. The kind they gave a government-issued black SUV with diplomatic plates—armored, red-light-skipping, cleared-for-anything kind of ride. I parked it at my fiancé Marco Varonetti's place so he could keep it in shape. Bad call. One day, I got an emergency call: heart transplant for the Chancellor—yeah, that Chancellor, the one with state secrets ticking inside him. I rushed over to Marco's to grab the car. Right as I was about to leave, some rando slid into the back seat like she owned it. "Mall first. I need a mani," she barked. "Then get the ice cream Marco ordered. If it melts, I'll kill you." Excuse me? "This is my car," I said, trying to stay chill. "I've got a critical airport run. You need to get out." She rolled her eyes. "You're just the driver. Open those eyes and check the plate." Then the maid chimed in. "Everyone knows Mr. Varonetti takes Ms. Caro out in this car. Nobody says a word." I froze. Marco used my federally issued SUV... to chauffeur her? This wasn't just messy. This was criminal.

I am the most secret Principessa of the Sicilian "Shepherd" Mafia. For my safety, my identity was a closely guarded secret since birth. I lived in the shadows, leaving the outside world entirely ignorant of my true standing. On my wedding day, my mafia fiancé allowed his female bodyguard to feed my family's heirloom token to his dog. He mocked me for coming from some "backwater" family, claiming I wasn't worthy to be his bride. He even threatened to wipe my family off the map.. Looking this, I simply made a single phone call. Moments later, armored vehicles crashed through the estate gates, and our family’s chief Consigliere knelt me in front of the terrified crowd:"Principessa, your father sent us to bring you home." It was only at that moment that my arrogant fiancé finally understood. The woman he had humiliated was the sole heir to the "Shepherd" family that controlled the European arms trade. But it was too late for regrets.

"Spread your fucking legs for Daddy…" The moment those growled words hit my ears, my thighs trembled, going weak at the knees. I swallowed hard, my throat dry with envy, aching to be the one spread wide and commanded by that deep, dominant voice. Heat flooded my core, soaking my panties with slick arousal, my pussy clenching desperately around nothing. Like the foolish, needy girl I was, I nudged the door open just a crack, peeking into the dim light of his bedroom to see who he was claiming on that massive bed. But shock slammed into me—Alpha Kane wasn't with anyone else. He lounged against the headboard, his massive hand wrapped around his thick, veined cock, stroking it slow and firm while his piercing eyes locked on a spread of my photos scattered across the sheets. Pictures of me in innocent poses, but the way he pumped his shaft, pre-cum beading at the tip and dripping down his length, turned them filthy in his gaze. **** I'd been just ten when rogues tore through our pack in a brutal war, slaughtering my parents and leaving me orphaned in the blood-soaked ruins. Alpha Kane Laskovic had charged in like a storm, ripping through the attackers with savage fury, saving me and the survivors. He became my guardian, my armored knight, pulling me from the ashes and raising me under his powerful protection. I was supposed to call him Dad—respectful, safe. Not Daddy, not while fantasizing about him pinning me down, growling filthy commands as he fucked me raw, claiming every inch of my body as his. But gods, I couldn't stop. The taboo hunger burned too hot, making me crave his cum flooding my womb, marking me as his forbidden little slut.

Ember Thorne grew up knowing the bitter truth: weakness is a death sentence. ​On her sixteenth birthday, when the primal surge of the Shift should have remade her, she was left agonizingly human. Her failure transformed her from the beloved Beta-elect’s daughter into a pariah—a fragile, scentless Omega in the unforgiving Shadow Creek pack. For two years, she has endured the endless grind of servitude and the crushing cruelty of her Alpha, surviving only by the protective shadows cast by her twin, Elias. ​She has accepted her fate: no wolf, no mate, no escape. ​But when Alpha Kael Blackwood, the ruthless leader of the legendary Silver Moon pack, arrives for a surprise alliance meeting, he doesn't see the broken servant the pack sees. He sees her. ​He hauled me against his armored chest, the sheer force of his presence sucking the air from the room. His eyes, the color of storm clouds, bored into mine. ​“You think you can reject me?” His voice was a lethal rumble, closer than a whisper, yet loud enough to shake the walls. “You are a scentless, wolf-less weakling. Yet, you carry my soul.” ​I tried to swallow, but my throat was dust. “I am nothing. You are the Silver Moon Alpha. Reject me and spare us both the ridicule.” ​A dark smile, devoid of kindness, stretched across his face. He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear, sending a jolt of fire and fear straight through me. ​“I won't reject you. You will be claimed, protected, and possessed. You are no longer Shadow Creek's shame. You are mine, Ember Thorne. And you will be the envy, the obsession, and the absolute focus of every enemy I have.”