Anna Paul Nude

— Preciso da sua ajuda para forjar a queda de um jato particular — eu disse calmamente. — É a única maneira de eu conseguir deixar Luca Moretti. As pessoas diziam que ele havia renunciado ao trono da Máfia por minha causa. Chamavam ele do homem que trocou o poder pelo amor, o herdeiro que abandonou sangue e ouro apenas para se casar com uma garçonete das favelas. Durante anos, ele fez o mundo acreditar em nós. Ele construiu impérios sob o meu nome. Ele me enviava rosas toda segunda-feira. Ele dizia à imprensa que eu era a sua salvação. Mas amor nem sempre significa lealdade. Enquanto eu estava ocupada acreditando no para sempre, ele estava construindo um segundo lar pelas minhas costas. Um lar cheio de risadas, brinquedos, e filhos gêmeos que tinham os seus olhos. Na noite em que desapareci, o império dele queimou. Ele devastou cidades, subornou governos, e enterrou homens vivos apenas para me encontrar. Mas, quando ele fez isso eu já tinha partido. E a mulher por quem ele um dia morreria não o amava mais o suficiente para permanecer viva.

If you are going to be BAD, then you have to do it the BAD way... It's pretty simple: 1) Don't get caught 2) Always have a Plan B 3) If all else fails... Run...Run for your life! Everyone has a bad side. Some try to deny it's existence, some hide it and others well...they rule the world with it. In the book of being BAD, there are ninety-nine formulas for world domination... Number one: You aren't BAD until you can walk around the school dressed in all pink and have everyone afraid to approach you. Number two: You aren't BAD until you can break into a certain bad boys house and well... do the wrong kinds of stuff. Number three: You aren't bad until quite frankly, you have declared vengeance against the bad boy. ~*~ "I heard you like bad boys," Blade says with a vivid smirk on his face. I glared up at him, without responding clenching my fists fighting the urge to punch him in the face. "So...?" He says after a couple of seconds of silence. "So what?" "So what do you think...Tinker Bell?" He says emphasizing on the stupid name. His face moved closer to mine and I stared back into his green eyes, watching the fire inside ignite. I smirked, "Then find me one." Blade grins at my witty retort and shrugs it off. "I look at you and I see cotton candy, but then you open your mouth... and suddenly you turn into liquorice," he scoffs. "Welcome to the game bitch, your move, now let's play."

After a century of war, the three races finally reached a fragile peace. The human kingdom, the vampire noble houses, and the wolf clans signed the Covenant of Three Realms. The Royal Court would stand above the races, and only a mixed-blood royal heir would rule all three realms. When my turn came,I chose Owen, Alpha of the Bloodmoon Pack. Our marriage ceremony took place on the Night of the Full Moon Oath. Owen’s foster sister, Nora, fled the Bloodmoon territory after the rite. She crossed beyond the pack’s borders and ran straight into a hunter’s silver trap laid in the forest. The silver tore through her wolf spirit. She died there before anyone could reach her. When Owen arrived, he did not rage. He simply carried her body back to the pack lands and performed the ancient wolf burial rites with his own hands. After that night, he continued to play the role of the perfect mate. But the night I gave birth to our hybrid child, he drove a blade through my throat, his eyes filled with hatred. His voice was filled with cold hatred. “If your bloodline weren’t the only one capable of producing a ruler for the three realms, I would never have married you.” “Nora would never have fled the pack lands. She would never have died in a hunter’s trap. My first child would still be alive.” Pain swallowed everything. When I opened my eyes again. I had returned to the day the king ordered me to choose between the vampire houses and the wolf clans.

Vier Jahre Ehe. Eine Unterschrift – seine eigene –, die mich befreite, obwohl er nie begriff, was er da unterschrieb. Ich war Sophia Moretti, die unsichtbare Ehefrau von James Moretti, dem Erben der mächtigsten Mafiafamilie der Stadt. Doch als seine Kindheitsliebe, die blendende und privilegierte Vicky, zurückkehrte, verstand ich endlich: Ich war immer nur eine Übergangslösung. Also spielte ich meinen letzten Zug. Ich schob die Papiere über seinen Schreibtisch – eine Scheidung, getarnt als Routineformulare der Universität. James unterschrieb, ohne auch nur einen zweiten Blick darauf zu werfen. Seine Füllfeder kratzte so achtlos über das Papier wie er einst unsere Eide behandelt hatte – ohne zu merken, dass er damit unsere Ehe beendete. Doch ich ging mit mehr als nur meiner Freiheit. Unter meinem Mantel trug ich seinen ungeborenen Erben – ein Geheimnis, das ihn vernichten würde, wenn er begreift, was er verloren hat. Jetzt reißt der Mann, der mich nie beachtet hat, die Welt auseinander, um mich zu finden. Vom Penthouse bis in die finsteren Ecken der Unterwelt wälzt er jeden Stein um. Aber ich bin keine zitternde Beute, die darauf wartet, gefunden zu werden. Ich habe mich jenseits seiner Reichweite wieder aufgebaut – an einem Ort, an dem nicht einmal ein Moretti folgen kann. Diesmal werde ich nicht um seine Liebe flehen. Er wird um meine flehen.

On the day that was supposed to be my wedding—the bride wasn’t me. The ceremony I’d waited for five years for turned into a joke when Valentina, my sister, walked down the marble aisle in a white wedding dress. Her arm was linked with Luca’s — the man who was supposed to be waiting for me at the altar. “I’m sorry, Bianca,” she said softly. “But you are no longer the bride today.” Then she touched her stomach, eyes gleaming with triumph. “I’m pregnant with Don Romano’s child.” Her words detonated inside my skull, and the whole world went silent. As if afraid I wouldn’t believe her, she lifted something glossy up towards the light. A black-and-white ultrasound image. It read clearly: Gestational age — 12 weeks. My eyes burned, tears stinging as I turned to Luca, desperately searching for anything—a denial, an explanation, regret. Instead, he only sighed, weary and resigned. “Bianca, I’m sorry.” he said helplessly. “Valentina doesn’t have much time left. This wedding… it was her last wish.” “I’ll make it up to you,” he added. “We can have another wedding later.” My father, Moretti, stood behind him, wearing the same stern expression he’d worn my entire life. I have never seen him smile at me, not even once. “Bianca,” he said sharply, “Your sister is dying. Let her have this.” My brother nodded without saying a single word, as if that was enough to be a solid answer. All my life, they had chosen her—her tears, her whims, her needs—over mine. Today was no different. Something inside me quietly cracked. Fine. If no one in this family cares about me, I’ll leave.

Being a daughter of an Alpha comes with many demands. Clara meets Damien, a hot Vampire, who turns out to be her mate but also her father's greatest enemy. Clara can not believe her fate when she realizes that she is mated to a vampire. Things can never be the same henceforth. Clara has to learn to sacrifice a lot to be with Damien. A lot of things which include going against her father. A lot of things come their way but nothing can beat fate, not as long as they can hold each other's hand and face them together.

The day I signed the divorce papers, I voluntarily gave up custody of my daughter. Because that day, in the courtroom, she clung to her father’s neck, sobbing with all the fury a six-year-old could muster: “You don’t even love me… do you? If you leave Daddy, I’ll stay with him… and you’ll be all alone forever!” In my past life, I had ignored her childish threats. I fought tooth and nail for her custody. I poured every ounce of myself into raising her. And yet… she spent her entire life hating me. Not once did she ever call me “Mom” until the day I died. On her wedding day, she even invited her father’s mistress to the stage to give a speech of thanks. Now, opening my eyes again, seeing that same cruel little face staring back at me, I simply nodded. “I don’t care.” After all… I never wanted a daughter like her anyway.

Brandon Wolfram is the poster boy for heartbreaks and disaster. The boy everyone fears and lusts after. The kind of boy who will leave you broken and sprawled out on the bathroom floor, wishing you never met him and the boy, after whom your life will never be the same. An enigma. An addiction. An obsession. Faith Millar knew exactly what she was getting into when she fell in love with Brandon…and yet, it was too late to give up. Because if there was one thing he was good at, it was driving a woman wild with desire and leaving them wanting more. And Faith wanted a lot more than just his body. She wanted his heart. But will Faith, a shy, introverted virgin of all people, be able to tame the quintessential bad boy? Or will she become just another notch on his bedpost? Or this time…will Brandon become the one obsessed with the innocent little mouse?

Elena Rossi married Victor Moretti, the most feared mafia Don in the underground world. For three years, he treated her like a queen. Everyone said the ruthless Don was madly in love with his wife. Elena believed them. Until the night everything fell apart. At a family banquet, Elena was drugged. When she begged Victor to stay with her, he simply told his guards to take her to the hospital—then left to meet her sister. In that moment, the love Elena had once been so proud of shattered. She soon learned the cruel truth: Victor had married her only because he believed she was the woman who once saved his life. And now that the “real” savior had appeared—her sister—Elena had become nothing more than a mistake. So Elena made her choice. She quietly arranged everything, had Victor unknowingly sign the divorce papers, and disappeared from his world—carrying his unborn child. Only after she was gone did Victor realize. The woman he thought he married out of gratitude had long become the one he could not live without. The woman who had saved his life years ago had been Elena all along—only she had been injured back then and lost that part of her memory. By the time the truth came to light, Elena was already gone. The cold-blooded mafia Don who once controlled the entire underworld finally lost control.

Adrian Moretti’s adopted sister—She knew perfectly well that I suffered from severe asthma and could not be exposed to smoke or strong scents. Yet during the yacht reception, she deliberately dragged me onto the open deck, where cigars burned nonstop and the wind howled. Within seconds, my chest tightened. When I reached for my inhaler, my blood ran cold. It was empty. I collapsed against the railing, gasping violently, my lungs burning as if they were collapsing in on themselves. She crouched beside me and smiled. “You’re always so dramatic. It’s just a little smoke. You don’t need to act like you’re dying,” she said softly. “You’re too weak. You need to build some tolerance.” I looked toward Adrian, my vision already blurring. “Adrian,” I choked. “Give me my inhaler. If I don’t use it right now, I’m going to suffocate.” He frowned slightly. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” he said coldly. “I’ve never heard of anyone dying from a bit of smoke. She’s right—you’re always seeking attention. We finally gathered tonight, and you’re ruining it.” My heart dropped. I fumbled for my phone and called my mother. “Mom,” I sobbed, barely able to breathe. “I’m being bullied… and I can’t breathe.” My voice shook violently.