A Gift Paid In Eternity Novels & Stories

I could see the countdown above a person’s head when they had already decided to leave their partner. The day my father’s countdown hit zero, he slapped a lawyer’s letter on the breakfast table and walked out on my mother and me. The day my best friend’s countdown hit zero, she finally threw her parasite of a boyfriend out of her apartment and changed the locks before sunset. That was why I’d always been terrified of seeing a countdown above my fiancé, Lucian Bellandi. Luckily, for seven years by his side, the space above his head had stayed clean. Lucian was the youngest Don the Bellandi family had ever seen. He owned the docks, the casinos, and half the South Side’s dirty money, yet he saved every soft part of himself for me. Until last month, when he picked me up after a family auction. I looked up and saw blood-red numbers stabbing into my eyes. [702 days, 14 hours, 22 minutes.] Less than two years. My heart tightened like a cold hand had closed around it. I started searching for an answer like a woman losing her mind. Had I done something wrong? Then, during a blizzard by the lake, we ran into Mia Crane at the back entrance of the Bellandi Hotel. Lucian had just brought her into his charity foundation as a new assistant. Snow clung to her hair and lashes. She was shivering from head to toe, but her smile was bright and painfully innocent. Lucian pulled a black silk handkerchief from his breast pocket and handed it to her. His face was calm. There was nothing openly improper in the gesture. But in that exact second, the countdown above his head jumped. [327 days, 4 hours, 47 minutes.] More than three hundred days, gone. And I knew I had found the reason.

At the Costa family's annual capo banquet, Marco Costa declared the family would extend protection to one woman only: Rosa Frost, his childhood sweetheart, newly divorced and newly returned to the family fold. One by one, the other women slipped away into the night with their money, their dignity, and fresh protectors already lined up. I, Viola Rossi, once his Donna, was severed from the Costa family entirely, with nowhere left to go. Twenty-one years prior, The System ripped me into this life with a brutal mandate: make one of four made men fall irrevocably in love with me, and I'd earn my way back to my real life with a healthy body. I failed. Every single one of them chose Rosa. The system's final mercy: die here, go home. I stood in a rotting Brooklyn dock warehouse, gun in hand, and closed my eyes. Right as darkness closed in, a raw, raging scream of my name tore through the silence, like the man shouting would burn the whole world apart to reach me.

Two of New York’s most powerful Cosa Nostra dons, Vincent Luciano and Nick Valentino, made a brutal wager over me. The terms were simple: whoever won my heart first would win the right to marry Seraphina Moretti, the sole heir to the Moretti crime syndicate. The ruthless Vincent swept me into his Fifth Avenue penthouse, lavishing me with luxuries all of New York would kill for. Cold, reserved Nick played the lovesick fool, kneeling beneath the moonlight over the Hudson to swear he’d give me a safe life, free from this world’s bloodshed and chaos. I said yes. But the second we stepped into Vincent’s oak-paneled study, Nick’s warmth turned frigid. “Vincent, we had a deal. I’ve won the Moretti marriage.” In my past life, I was discarded by both men, betrayed by my family, and left to die of a forced heroin overdose. Now I’ve been reborn. And this time, I still said yes to Nick’s proposal... But everything would be totally different.

At another Sunday dinner at the Bellandi estate, Luca Bellandi's assistant, Ava Marino, was sitting in my seat. It was the first chair to Luca's right at the long walnut table, the seat everyone in Chicago's underworld knew belonged to Mrs. Bellandi. Ava sat there as if she had been born into it, her pale wrist brushing Luca's sleeve while she poured his wine. I stood in the doorway and looked at him. "She's in my seat. You don't have anything to say?" Luca raised his eyes. "You were late. Don't blame someone else for sitting down first. There are empty chairs over there. Sit if you want. If not, get out." The dining room went dead quiet, and before I could answer, his thoughts slipped into my ears. [Vivi, don't go. Come sit beside me. Tell them it's your seat. Tell me you still want to be my wife.] [Please get mad. Please care. Say you need me, and I'll give you the whole world.] In the past, those soft, trembling thoughts would have been enough. I would've swallowed the insult and stayed beside him like a loyal dog that didn't know when to leave. This time, I didn't. I slipped the wedding ring off my finger and laid it on the table. "If the Bellandi family can't even keep a wife's seat for me, then I guess this family doesn't need a wife anymore. Luca, let's get divorced."

Ethan West and I were together for seven years. Because of one promise, I gave up the thrill of being a gold-medal race car driver to become a housewife, tied to the mundane rhythm of pots and pans. Yet, Ethan never changed. His gentle care and thoughtfulness remained constant over the years, and I believed he loved me. Until the day I saw him, madly holding another woman, kissing her as if the world would end. It was then I learned the truth: I was Ethan's wife, but Tara was the unattainable princess he had always longed for.

When Luca Moretti chose the jewelry for our wedding, he still bought two pieces and let my twin sister Bianca choose first. One was a ruby cuff from a Sicilian auction. The other was an off-the-rack black onyx bracelet, the kind sold in every mall jewelry store. For the first time, I reached before Bianca could. I pointed at the ruby cuff. "This time, can I choose first?" Luca set his palm on my head with the easy affection he used to make me behave. "Bianca has always been stubborn about quality. If it's not the best, she won't take it. You don't care about this stuff, Elena. The other piece isn't bad." I didn't answer right away. Something inside my chest went quiet. In my own family, Bianca always got the first slice, the clean seat, and the room with the view. My mother said she needed the best because she carried the Bellini name better. My father called it practical. Marriage worked that way too. The Bellinis and Morettis had promised one daughter to the Moretti heir long before either of us knew what love was. Everyone assumed that daughter would be Bianca. Instead, she made her position crystal clear: she'd rather keep her freedom and her spotless public image than become Mrs. Moretti. So Luca turned to the remaining Bellini daughter. I had known Luca for twenty years, and in his world, I always stood behind Bianca. I looked at the black onyx bracelet on the table and pushed it back. "Bianca can have both. I'm not choosing." I didn't want another leftover choice. Not anymore.

Roseline Kentwood (Gift) is trying to earn a living so she takes the chance of being Jace Snowman, a rude billionaire's maid.She's not an easy-going, vulnerable, quiet and a maid that'll just let anyone insult her and treat her like trash. She's fiery and wouldn't miss a chance to spit at you and let you know how ill-mannered she is if you try to look down your nose at her.Jace is loving her spirit and her fiery nature and physique, but what's kind of limiting him is his 'billionaire fiancee' and how he and people feel, for him to go into a relationship or love his maid with his high status.READ ON TO ENJOY THIS AWESOME-FILLED ROMANTIC NOVEL.REMEMBER THAT PLAGIARISM IS BAD AND THIS BOOK BELONGS TO ME, Gift Odulesi so no one should steal my work.

Being a Vampires pet is a fate no Human wants to endure… I was 6 years old when my parents were killed and I was taken to the pet store. A 6 year old cannot make choices for herself, so why am I punished for something my parents did? This question haunts me. Instead of playing outside with other kids, I was groomed and trained to obey my Master… I was to be the perfect pet. A maid, a sexual partner, a nurse, a blood bag… Anything my Master wanted, that was what I was expected to give. Obedience… That is what the Ringmaster prided herself on with her selection. She didn't get so lucky with me. Madame Vienna and I clashed hardcore. I learned quickly not to speak out of turn, but it didn't stop me from throwing a snarky remark here and there when I felt that I was healed enough to handle another punishment. This may be the only reason I lasted so long without being sold. But my time had come. I was on display for the world to see. Tattered and torn, but it didn't seem to matter to the man with the rose gold eyes who made the Vampires tremble without even saying a single word… What kind of creature was he to cause this type of reaction in an apex predator? I clenched my eyes shut as he brought me to the counter to check out. "Come, Ambrosia." The man purred after a moment. Shaking, I followed him, trying to take in any and every small detail of the outside world… "You can do this. Pretend it's just a bad dream… You know how to survive." I whispered to myself, as I followed my new Master to what was sure to be my death.

My name is Rayne and I've always been alone in life. Except for him… The Demon that watches me in the night. Reavers are ruthless, blood thirsty creatures. Disguised as distinguished gentlemen in suits and ties, the brothers will kill without rhyme or reason. Everything about them is made to attract you, make you forget that you should be fucking running the opposite direction. And it works. I live in the most powerful pack in the world. But even my Alpha is afraid of the brothers. The Reaver with eyes of molten gold, hunts me like it's a fucking game. He follows me, watches me in secret, and makes himself known if I do something he doesn't like… It's been 7 years since he laid his claim on me, but he should have let me fucking drown. He tries to control every aspect of my life, but I will do what I want, when I want, and I would like to see him try and fucking stop me. In fact, I'm counting on it… I refuse to be anyone's puppet. Not the Demon who watches me, not my Alpha's, and sure as fuck not the Demon's younger brother. I've heard the whispers. I know there's something different about me... But that gives exactly no one the right to think they fucking own me. How much am I willing to give up to prove that point? I ask myself this question, and then make a choice… A choice that nearly destroys me. Lucky for me, The Darkness would never let me face this trauma alone… With The Darkness on my side, I feel fucking invincible, and I'm going to go out of my way to make sure that everyone knows exactly where I fucking stand. (Book 1 in The Reaver Chronicles Series)

Vampires, I'd never seen one up close before. That is, until one tried to kill me. But he saved me, the Reaver Raphael. I know I'm only Human, but the more I learn of him, the more intrigued I become. He scares me, much more than I'd ever admit. My instincts scream at me to run. I know he's one of the four brothers who control the Underworld. I know he kills people without warning or trigger. I know the other Supernaturals fear him, and I know what he says goes… period. Yet, I find myself drawn to him, my fear tempered by a morbid curiosity. Being around someone as powerful as Raphael is daunting, yet every time I'm near him, I feel a swarm of butterflies in my stomach. But I'm aware of the danger. I've studied the Reavers, and I know their charm is designed to lure you in. Raphael doesn't even have to try… he exudes an effortless allure that draws me, and everyone else, to him. I know I should run, I want to run. But I'm frozen in place, and the warning signs only seem to heighten the allure. I've danced with danger for too long, but playing with fire has never felt so satisfying. That was, until I woke up in a strange place, surrounded by an unsettling array of supernatural creatures. Reality hit me like a slap in the face. And it's in this moment that I regret ever pursuing the man in the silver suit, who meets me in the diner... I've read enough love stories to know that love could be a fatal flaw, or a mans greatest strength. Could I be his? Or would our love become a fatal collision course from which neither of us would escape?