Ariel Melody And Eric

ADRIANNA GREY: Father called me cursed—a mistake that should never have existed. He blamed me for my mother’s death and treated me like a burden he couldn’t wait to discard. In the end, he sold me to the Alpha King, a man worshipped by the kingdom but a devil in private. He made me his sex slave, stripping me of my dignity. Just when my suffering was nearly over, his sister framed me. As punishment, he resold me—this time to another Alpha King even crueler than him. Every day of my life felt like drowning in darkness. I saw no reason to keep living. Then he appeared. My unexpected savior. He risked his life to free me, protected me like I was made of something precious, and treated me with a gentleness I’d never known. He would burn the world to keep me safe. But after everything men have done to me… can I really trust him with my heart? Especially after discovering the truth about what he truly is? ⸻ ERIC BLACKWELL: She was a small, innocent-looking girl in shabby boy clothes when I first saw her, but her doe eyes caught me instantly. After saving her from being burned alive at the market, something inside me changed—something I had never felt in thirty years. Then she disappeared. I searched for her everywhere, only for fate to return her to me in the worst way: she was a sex slave to my boss. Knowing she was in danger, I didn’t care what I had to lose or what I had to do—I was going to save her again. But saving her woke the ghosts of my past, and now those secrets threaten the fragile bond I’ve risked everything to build with her.

“Sometimes the devil doesn’t come to destroy you—he comes to finish what love couldn’t.” --- I saw a woman at the ballroom. Average height, stunning, sexy rose lips, black wavy hair, eyes sharp as spear, solid black heel higher than a new pencil. A long indigo dress that reminds you of the sea – my favourite. Then the v-cut from the foot of the dress to the damn hip. Crazy black designs all over. But now one thing is missing— her mask. I, Rafael Goldman, am known for having everything I want, no matter what it is, and getting the sweetheart of late Eric McCoy would be a thing worth my while... Especially if this particular person is exactly like my miha. --- LATER I held my balance on Preston; his thrusts punched the air from my lungs, another made my vision spark white. I screamed his name into the steam, my hair soaked, water dancing off my eyelashes. He fucked me like atonement, like penance, like the only god he believed in lived between my thighs. He groaned against my throat and it sent shivers down my spine. I saw his pupils in mine, holding the gaze steady. He cupped my cheek and gave me an aggressive kiss before I broke it, forcing his head to my neck. He kissed my throat, teeth scraping the pulse that was trying to kill me. I laughed softly, ragged and vicious, and bit his lip until I tasted blood. That particular finger staggered back to my cunt again and forced its way into my pussy while his dick was still inside, grinding me. Suddenly his left hand came over my mouth, cupping it firm, blocking my screams. --- Content Trigger Warning !! Contains BDSM, violence, sex, strong language, misogyny which may upset some viewers... ---

Angélique, 29 ans, institutrice mariée depuis cinq ans à Richard, croit vivre un mariage solide fondé sur l’amour, la foi et la fidélité. Vierge jusqu’au mariage, elle s’est donnée corps et âme à un seul homme : son mari. Malgré leur complicité apparente, un drame silencieux les ronge — leur incapacité à avoir un enfant. Si Richard se montre patient et réconfortant, la belle-famille d’Angélique ne cache pas son hostilité. Dans cette épreuve, elle s’appuie sur sa meilleure amie Edith, femme vive, séduisante et indépendante. Mais un détail inattendu — une voix, un rire au téléphone — sème le doute dans l’esprit d’Angélique. Peu à peu, elle collecte des indices : un ticket de restaurant pour deux à Yamoussoukro, un comportement étrange, une voiture rouge familière… jusqu’à l’irréfutable vision de Richard dans les bras d’Edith. Effondrée, elle trouve refuge chez sa sœur aînée Béatrice. Mais cette visite prend un tournant inattendu : Béatrice lui révèle que son propre couple repose sur un équilibre tacite de "liberté surveillée", chacun ayant une liaison discrète hors du foyer. Entre trahison, désillusion et tentation, Angélique perd ses repères. Et décide de répliquer. Froide, méthodique, elle envisage une vengeance douce-amère : séduire Eric, le fiancé d’Edith, également trompé. La douce institutrice n’a pas changé… elle s’est révélée.

When I drink the amber-colored poisonous wine, I can hear the joyful melody of a toast song coming from the manor. The wedding between Emanuela Romano and my ex-fiance, Benedetto Martini, is being held there right now. The elderly butler, Vincenzo Romano, puts away the wine glass with a blank expression. The way he speaks is as somber as one sounds when they give a speech at a funeral. "You know the Don's will very well, Ms. Andreotti. Five years are officially up, yet neither Mr. Andreotti, Mr. Martini, nor Dr. Foscari is willing to pledge their loyalty to you via the blood vow. According to the rules, you must take your own life within seven days. "The Don had left the Ashwine to you as a means of protecting… what little pride you have." Scorching pain begins spreading from my throat. I just smile at Vincenzo in return. Pride? Does a bastard spawn of a loose Iernian woman deserve to retain pride of any sort in the cruel Andreotti family? I begin making my way toward the banquet hall, which is brightly lit. As I walk past the shimmering waters of the pond in the family garden, I can tell that the waters are insanely cold. Then again, nothing is as cold as my icy heart right now. After taking a deep breath, I fall face-first into the pond… only to feel an iron-clad grip wrenching me backward. As such, I collapse onto the lawn heavily. My older brother, Alessandro Andreotti, has bits of grass covering his expensive suit. Disgust is written all over his handsome face. "Eva!" he grits out through his teeth, his voice lowered. "Must you spoil the mood on Emanuela's big day?" He then scoots closer to me, his alcohol-tinged breath fanning over my face. "You want to die, huh? Go ahead and do that, but can you die somewhere further? Don't stain the Andreotti land!" Alessandro turns to walk in the direction of the radiant lights, leaving me on the lawn, completely covered in mud. I can feel the countdown of my lifespan burning my insides. Seven days… I only have seven days to live. Meanwhile, my very own brother wants me to die somewhere further away.