101 Dalmatian Street Da Vinci

Hana Pires era vista como a especialista farmacêutica mais brilhante pelos mais velhos, uma inspiração de beleza e talento para as mulheres e a personificação de pureza e perfeição para os homens. Mas, apesar de sua aparente perfeição, ela amava profundamente Breno Moura, um homem que a desprezava completamente. Durante os dois anos de casamento, ele nunca sequer a tocou. Tudo mudou após o divórcio. Hana seguiu em frente e deu à luz um filho sozinha. No entanto, quando Breno descobriu a existência da criança, ele perdeu o controle e queria roubar a criança. Implorou ele, com os olhos vermelhos e a voz trêmula: — Hana, você precisa aceitar o nosso filho e eu...

Evie Callahan never believed in monsters—until one dragged her off the street and locked her in a world she didn’t know existed. A world where alphas rule through blood and fear. Where her name means nothing, but her blood means everything. Turns out, she’s not just human. She’s rare. Valuable. And every pack wants to own her. Especially him. Lucian Calder. Alpha of the Calder pack. Vicious. Controlling. Dangerous. And he says she’s his mate. His rules are brutal, his touch addictive, and the longer she stays, the harder it is to tell if she’s a prisoner… or truly his mate. Evie swore she’d never belong to anyone. Then the second Alpha finds her. Older. Colder. And he claims she was never meant for Lucian—that the bond they share is a lie, and that he’s the one she was born for. Now she’s caught between two powerful rivals, hunted by the council, and stalked by another. Both Alphas want her. Both would kill for her. Both are willing to burn the world for her. And neither is letting go.

—Vete —ordené, orgullosa de que mi voz no sonara ni la mitad de temblorosa de lo que me sentía por dentro. —¿Eso es lo que realmente quieres, Keera? —preguntó en un susurro. Antes de que pudiera responder, tomó mi mano y la levantó lentamente, llevando mis dedos hasta su nariz. Los mismos dedos que habían estado dentro de mí hacía apenas unos minutos. Mi corazón golpeó con fuerza en mi pecho. No apartó los ojos de los míos mientras inhalaba el aroma de mi deseo, y luego llevó mis dedos a su boca, pasando su lengua por ellos y lamiéndolos con lentitud hasta dejarlos limpios. ⸻ Keera No deberían existir. Era imposible. Eran errores de la naturaleza. Eso fue lo primero que pensé de los hombres lobo. Y durante años creí tener razón, porque todos los que conocí no hicieron más que herirme. Especialmente él. Me sentí atraída hacia él desde el primer momento en que lo vi. Antes de darme cuenta de que me odiaba. No quería admitirlo, pero él fue quien reforzó mi odio hacia los hombres lobo. No tenía ninguna obligación de ayudarlos. Pero lo hice. Y vi cómo mi vida se desmoronaba. Crucé cada límite que alguna vez me impuse al involucrarme con él, hasta descubrir que era mi pareja destinada. ⸻ Grayson La odiaba antes incluso de conocerla en persona. Nuestra relación era prohibida. Los hombres lobo no podían emparejarse con humanos. Ni siquiera creía que fuera una posibilidad. Pero eso fue antes de ella. Descubrí que era mi alma gemela. Y en ese momento supe que no podía dejarla ir. No me importaba renunciar al título de Alfa si eso significaba estar con ella. Porque, le gustara o no, ella sentía lo mismo por mí.

"Let's get a divorce." Renna had said to her treacherous husband, Hayes Campbell, walking in on him with not one of his numerous mistresses that she knew of, but her sister, this time. Renna thought divorcing him would be the end of her misery but what about her father? The vicious man who she grew up to him finding fault in everything she did, she was his prodigal daughter while Nadia, her sister, was his favorite, despite how frequently she strayed. He disowned her right after the divorce and pushed her into the street. Divorced, disowned, and critically ill, Renna passed out on the street of New York. Renna thought she was dead until she opened her eyes in a hospital, and her ex-husband's uncle beside her. "Hey, kitten." He winked. "Don't call me that." Renna spat. "Fine, does Mrs Campbell sound better?" "Not that either," she mumbled. "Hayes and I are getting divorced." He was unusually quiet for a while, and when Renna looked up to his face, he had a smug smirk plastered all over. "Well, I guess that changes everything then." "What does that even..." "Marry me." "What?" "I will offer you a life every single lady on earth will be jealous of, kitten, the world will be at your feet, including your ex-husband, all you have to do is say yes." His name is Landon; Hayes's uncle and biggest threat. No one knew the mystery behind his hatred for Hayes. The business deals that Hayes wanted, he took them; Hayes popularity and influential spot in the country, he took that away, and now he has come for her. But not just as a game.

" sometimes the strongest hearts carry the heaviest scars." Two years after losing her parents, 21-year-old Jane is left raising her two little brothers on her own. Abandoned by her oldee sister and juggling two exhausting jobs, Jane barely has time to breathe_let alone chase her long-forgotten dream of studying law. Every day is a battle to survive: Working long hours, skipping meals, some strange dreams, and hiding her tears behind a fake smile. But even when she breaks down in the middle of the street or collapses from exhaustion, she always gets back up- for Elhoïme and Mathias, the only family she has left. Just when she thinks no one sees her pain, Brian, a kind coworker and a long time friend, start offering small gestures of help- cofee, silence, time, understanding. She pushes him away at first, afraid of needing anyone. But his quiet presence slowly starts to feel like hope. Can Jane allow herself to lean on someone else for once, without losing her strenght- or her heart?

Elena had once believed that silence could mean safety. That a gentle hand and a warm cup of tea placed quietly on her desk every morning could be a form of love. Lucien was never cruel—not in the obvious ways. He remembered how she liked her eggs, noticed when she swapped her perfume, and sent flowers on days he knew she wouldn’t expect them. He raised her like one would raise a pet—softly, without question. And Elena, foolish in the way only the very lonely can be, mistook his quiet affection for devotion. She told herself he was reserved. Mysterious. That love didn’t always wear its heart on its sleeve. But when the old flame returned—the one who spoke his language without needing to try—Elena saw it. The difference. He looked at her like a man who had found his lost religion. And Elena? She had simply been convenient. No tears, no scene. Just papers on the breakfast table, beside the eggs he cooked perfectly. She didn’t accuse or beg. She only asked for freedom. He didn’t sign. He chuckled. A soft, dismissive sound. “A cat raised indoors doesn’t know how to survive on the street, Elena. You’ll come back." But she didn’t. She disappeared, like smoke—except she didn’t vanish, not really. She lived. She wore colour again. Laughed at bad jokes. Let strange men hand her coffee and ask for her number. Lucien? He watched. He watched her become someone without him. And it drove him mad. The night he cornered her outside the gallery, rain in his hair and desperation in his eyes, he looked like a man undone. "Elena," he breathed, "please. Look at me. Just once." She did. Calm as ever, and her love already gone.

The doctor told me I would never have a baby, so we took a fifteen-year-old girl we found on the street out of pity--to adopt her. But as she got older, her wants grew, and by the time she was twenty she wanted my husband. With all the emotional turmoil, should I share my husband with my own adopted daughter?

I should have been walking down the aisle. Instead, I was running through the woods in my wedding dress. The white fabric caught on every branch, tearing apart like my life. My name is Camela Siegel. My father is the Mayor, and he sold me to save himself. Vincent Castellano was supposed to be my husband. They call him the Mad Prince, but I learned he’s so much worse than that. His hands trembled when he touched me—sometimes gentle, like I might break, and sometimes rough, like he wanted to overpower me. “You’re mine now,” he’d whisper in the dark corners of that house. “No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to hurt you but me.” I tried the door handle every day for three months. It only turned from the outside. When help finally came, I thought it was over. I thought I could go home and pretend none of it ever happened. I was wrong. Vincent found my journal—the one where I wrote about him, about what he did to me, and about who he truly is. Now he’s not just keeping me locked up. He’s hunting me. They call him “The Fox” for a reason. He’s patient and waits. When he catches what he’s after, he never lets it go. I can feel him watching me even now—through my bedroom window, from across the street, in the shadows where I can’t see him but I know he’s there. My father thinks making that deal saved his life. He doesn’t realize it destroyed mine. Vincent said he’d keep me until the last day of my life. I’m starting to think that day is coming soon.