Aerith Dress Options

The first time Rafael betrayed me, he threw the woman from his club at my feet. His eyes were bloodshot as he told me to take my pick. My love for him was a sickness, so I forgave the transgression. For the second betrayal, I had the dancer sent out of New York, warning her never to set foot on the East Coast again. On the night of our engagement party, sealing the union of our two families, Rafael pinned me against the walnut desk in the study. His eyes burned with rage as he demanded: "Where is Nina? She's carrying a Mancini heir." "It was a mistake. You can take your anger out on me. Nina is naive; she doesn't deserve this. I'm begging you, just let the child be born safely. I swear I'll never see her again." "You're afraid of childbirth. This gives you an heir without the risk." "Listen, Alessia. You are the future Donna of the Mancini family. When that child is born, it will know only you as its mother. I swear on my life." He forced me backward until shards from the vase I'd knocked over cut into my skin, staining my silk dress with blood. I looked at him and smiled, then gave him the address of a safe house in Brooklyn. He slammed the heavy oak door behind him. Shaking, I pulled out my encrypted phone. "You were right about him. Is your offer still on the table?"

With only an hour left until the concert began, every trending topic across the internet was dominated by a single headline. [Breaking: Rising Star Tiffany Burgess to Propose to Her Manager After Ten Years of Romance, Leaving Fans in Awe.] This proposal was not just a personal milestone; it was the centerpiece of our company's most ambitious PR campaign of the year and the culmination of a love story between Tiffany and me. Then, in the fire escape, I bumped into Tiffany, dressed in her wedding gown, locked in a passionate kiss with a young man. "Wayne, let me explain," she pleaded. "Explain what?" I snorted. "That just before our proposal, you're sneaking around with another man? The proposal is live-streamed to millions, with thousands of media outlets eagerly awaiting the announcement." I slammed the engagement ring down onto the table in front of her. "After the encore tonight, you'll either propose to me on that stage, or you'll be ruined, both in reputation and career!" Her fists clenched, but in the end, she gritted her teeth and grabbed the box. "Fine." Under the spotlight, she stood before me in her wedding dress, pulling out the ring. But instead of turning to me, she held the ring up toward the guest seating area, where her true love sat. "Wayne, thank you for helping me reach the stars," she declared. "But tonight, I'm going to chase my moon." The crowd erupted in shock and confusion. In a single instant, I became the laughingstock—the unwitting prop in her grand romantic gesture. My heart shattered the moment she reached him.

Antonio Rivera finally finds out that I haven't asked him for money in a week. For once, he sends me a text message to compliment me. "Darling, you've finally learned how to become a good Donna. I've had my men deliver this week's worth of miracle drugs to your mother's ward. As long as you remain docile and don't be greedy, I'll give you anything you want." What he doesn't know is that I'm printing out a divorce agreement when I receive his message while wearing an old dress from three years ago. No one will believe that I, the Donna of the Rivera family, have to ask Antonio's Consigliere, Elena Gallo, for money even when I need to buy myself some tampons. Hell, I have to apply for a leave request three days in advance if I wish to leave my home. Antonio keeps telling me that he's doing this to protect me. "It's too dangerous outside, sweetheart. All you have to do is stay at home like a good girl you are." But one week ago, Mom's illness took a turn for the worse. I begged Elena to skip the request and let me out of the villa. Elena, however, dragged out my request for seven long days. Only when Mom died did she finally permit me to leave. Miracle drugs? My mom is already dead. I'm no longer tolerating anyone or anything anymore.

"I promise you if Trinity gives me the slip, then I am pinning her to a tree." Just thinking of her sends shivers up my spine and belief me that they are not the good shivering kind. I love a beautiful woman both in my bed and to look at. To be surrounded by ugly for almost a full day is seriously going to put a damper on my ego. But time to push that thought to the side, for our location has just come up on the right. We slowly cruise up the driveway… But as we step through the doorway… And we turn the corner… There is a tall brunette in what could possibly be the tightest dress I have ever seen. But what strikes me the most is her long slender legs that are held up by deep blood red stilettos. Her long locks of hair fall like waterfalls over her shoulders. Just looking at those plump lips is enough to send me raging. I don't know who she is... Colton Cruz is the best of the best, an ex-Marine, now bodyguard to the Mafia world’s elite. He is a man that lives for the rush and danger that his lifestyle brings. You might find yourself on his speed dial, but you will not be the one that will capture his heart. Trinity Stone is a spoilt brat that becomes Colton's next assignment. She is a pleasure on the eye but an absolute nightmare to be around. This lonely and misunderstood girl is the heir to the Stone Crime Family. And that is where the problem begins… Colton soon finds him desiring what he cannot have, the daughter of a Mafia Boss. How far will he go to get what he desires the most?

I was born a liar. That was the label my mother gave me. In the Dark Moon Pack, every pup carries a Lunar Mark on their wrist. Green means truth. Red means liar. My twin sister Maya slashed Mommy's ceremonial dress with a blade and blamed the pack hounds. Her wrist stayed soft and green. My mark went crimson when I said I was cold. "Mommy, I'm telling the truth. Please believe me." Elena would crouch down, look me in the eye, and say the same thing every time. "The Goddess's mark is absolute, Selena. Your own heart betrays you." She never touched me. She just looked at my wrist with disgust. No matter how honest I tried to be, my heart would race when I was scared. And every time my pulse spiked, the mark turned red. I lied when I said I was hungry. I lied when I said I loved her. I lied when I cried. After enough years, I stopped fighting back. I started to believe her. Maybe I really was broken. Maybe I was just born wrong. The night I died, I wrote one last line in my Penance Journal. "Mommy, help me. It hurts. Please — just believe me once." She never saw it. She had already locked the door and walked away. I'm sorry, Mommy. I died still trying to get it right. In my next life — will you hold me?

I married my vampire husband ten years ago and gave him a half-blood heir, abandoning my career as a painter to become a full-time mother. Fortunately, my son inherited my talent. At just six years old, he held his first solo art exhibition, inspired by the theme "My Mother." But he never let me attend, and he never let me see his paintings. My husband said my presence would make Luke nervous---that I should stay home and do the housework as a good wife and mother, and wait for them to come back. I told myself he was just young and didn't know better, that he was only pushing back against my discipline, not truly rejecting me. Until the day I snuck into the gallery wearing a surgical mask pulled low. In the center of the crowd, my husband held our son's hand while tenderly pulling a woman in a red dress into his arms. He turned to the guests and announced: "This is Luke's mother---my wife." The three of them stood together, beaming with perfect happiness. And I---the one who'd stayed up all night setting up this exhibition---stood before the paintings while not a single person recognized me. That was when I finally understood. My seemingly gentle, caring vampire husband had long ago given our son a replacement mother. And I was nothing more than the human nanny who'd served her purpose by producing an heir.

They shattered her. Now she’s the storm coming to destroy them. For five years, Mona Smith was the perfect wife, silent, loyal, and invisible. Trapped in a golden cage, she clung to love while the Caldwell family tore her down piece by piece. They laughed at her. Belittled her. Treated her like dirt beneath their designer heels. Until the night it all fell apart. “Get out,” Emily Caldwell sneered, wine staining Mona’s dress like blood. “You were never one of us.” Framed. Humiliated. Abandoned by the man she gave everything to. The Caldwells thought they could toss her out and move on. But they made one fatal mistake. They let her live. Enter Alexander Kane, dangerous, untouchable, and worth more than empires. He offers Mona a deal: marry him, and he’ll give her the power to crush the people who destroyed her. Mona says yes. Not for love. For vengeance. But revenge has a cost, and Alexander has secrets darker than she ever imagined. As Mona claws her way into the ruthless world of power and privilege, she must decide: Will she burn them all to the ground? Or will she become the very monster she was trying to destroy? Because the most dangerous woman in the world… is the one they tried to break. --- "You wanted me broken?" Mona whispers, slipping on a diamond ring worth more than their entire legacy. "Congratulations. I’m broken. And now, I’m unstoppable." They wanted her silent. Now she’s their worst nightmare

Warning!!! Content may contain BDSM, violence,taboo romance,weird kinks and is rated 18+ “Strip. Now.” His voice was low, lethal. My breath caught. “Adrian…” “Don’t say my name,” he growled, eyes dark with fury. “You think you can walk around in that tiny dress, letting other men stare at what’s mine? Take it off. Every piece. I want you naked and trembling before me.” “I..I didn’t mean..” “You meant to disobey. And for that, I’ll teach you exactly what happens to bad little virgins who tempt their husbands.” His lips brushed my ear, hot and cruel. “Strip!!, Bambina (doll). Or I’ll do it myself.” *** Elena Carter had been untouched all her life—the hidden heiress raised in shadows, her father’s secret weapon. He promised her everything—his fortune, his empire—if she destroyed Adrian Blackthorne, the ruthless rival he claimed had murdered her mother. Adrian needed an innocent wife to clean his reputation. Elena needed to play the part of the sweet virgin bride to ruin him from the inside. But nothing prepared her for nights that blurred punishment and pleasure, or for the cruel twist of fate...her ex, the man who broke her heart, was Adrian’s nephew. Now he wants her back and both men are willing to tear their family apart for her. Who will Elena chose?. She thought she was in control. She didn’t know she was the one being destroyed.

My back hit the cold wall of the Alpha’s packhouse, my breath hitched in my throat as the triplets closed in—Asher, Alaric, and Argent. Asher leaned in first, his mouth brushing against my ear. “Sign the contract, Alisha,” he growled. “You’re ours. Your body, soul, and every filthy little sound you make.” I swallowed hard as Alaric’s fingers traced a circle around my swollen areola in an infuriating slow-mo. “See, your body is already responding, stop pretending you don’t want to be ruined by us.” Argent stepped in last, his hand skimming under the hem of my dress. “You’re trembling, sweetheart. Not from fear… but from need. Say the word, and we’ll own every inch of you.” “And if I say no?” my voice was shaky as I bit down the moan crawling up my throat. The three of them exchanged glances and then turned to me. And like a rehearsed lyric, they all unisoned. “Then we make you beg on your knees. And we won’t stop until you forget your own name… just ours.” Asher grabbed my chin, tilting it up. “Last chance, sweetheart. Safe word or surrender.” My lips parted. “I surrender.” That was all they needed. Alaric was behind me instantly, lips on my neck, one hand wrapping around my waist, the other dragging the strap of my dress down torturously slow. “Good girl,” he murmured, his teeth grazing my skin. “You’re ours now.” •••••••• This is not just a love story. It’s survival. And it starts with rejection…

Tiffany Jones is beautiful, innocent and a straight-A student, straight from elementary school, well, until she met Zeke. She had a lot of bad experiences while growing up, but that didn't stop her from becoming the person she was. Except that she had very huge trust issues. In college, she's made to share a bedroom with who she calls a total jerk. Yup, that's him, Ezekiel Blakely, popularly known as Zeke. He's a bad boy. He's a player. He's dangerous. He's reckless. The two are seen and talked about in the college, making Tiffany get attention, which she dislikes. How's she gonna cope with such a jerk? Would she give in to his flirtatious character and risk it all or would she flee before it's too late? Keep reading to find out. "Why the f*** did you have to wear this," This time, he pinned me to the wall, completely taking me off guard. "Nerd you're turning me on," He said and then pressed himself against me. There was no doubt he was already turned on. Oh, God! He brought his face to my neck and breathed hotly against it, sending shivers to my body. He trailed one of his hands up to my dress and our breathing was already getting hot. With one hand on my waist and the other making its way to my bra he whispers, "Stop torturing little Zeke."