Bakura Perfume Novels & Stories

After years of struggling to survive, Akayda Jordan finally lands her dream job — personal assistant/secretary in one of the best companies in the whole of California. To celebrate her new beginning, she decides to give one last “performance” at the elite club she’s about to leave behind. One night. One masked encounter. One forbidden act. But fate twists cruelly. The man she had danced for in the dark turns out to be her new boss — Damian Knight. He’s engaged. She’s desperate to keep her secret buried. But when Damian starts sensing something achingly familiar about his new assistant — the scent of her perfume, the way she looks away when he stares too long — the walls between them begin to crack. But he was sure the girl with the big glasses was not the girl with the mask and firefly tattoo who had woken up a hunger in him. Soon, professionalism turns into tension. Tension turns into temptation. And the closer he gets to the truth, the more dangerous her secret becomes. Because if Damian ever discovers she’s the masked girl he’s been searching for… she might lose not just her job, but her heart.

I had been in a secret relationship with my mafia boyfriend, Dante Castellano, for seven years. No public contact. No photos together. No proof I had ever stood by his side. He told me, "Once I'm powerful enough that no one dares touch you, I'll make it official." I believed him. The day before our seventh anniversary, I found a ten-carat diamond ring in his suit jacket. I cried with joy, thinking seven years of hiding were finally over. The next morning, I wore my most expensive dress and sprayed on the only perfume he had ever given me. I practiced my smile in the mirror, the one I would give when he proposed. Then, my phone lit up with a breaking news alert. [Breaking News: Seven-Year Love Story Reaches Perfect Ending—Romance Blogger Alessia Romano Accepts Boyfriend's 100th Proposal!] In the photo, the influencer with eight million followers stood on her tiptoes, kissing a man. His hand rested on the back of her neck. On that hand was a scar I would never mistake. It was the scar Dante got when he took a knife for me.

Born into a blended family, Chantelle grew up on the sidelines, raised with love by her grandmother after her mother's death. Shut out by her father Gérard, dominated by his new wife Rhonda, and relegated to the background behind her pretentious stepsister Mégane, she learned to survive in silence. When her grandmother is diagnosed with a terminal illness, Chantelle's world crumbles. With no family support and overwhelmed by medical bills, she accepts a desperate proposition: one hundred nights for one million euros, with a wealthy man whose identity she will never know. The rules are simple. A blindfold over her eyes, a stranger's touch, and silence. He never speaks. She never sees. He leaves her with anonymous bank transfers... and the haunting scent of his perfume as her only memory. Twelve nights pass. Then, forced by her father to attend a family dinner, Chantelle comes face to face with Mégane's fiancé: Collen Wilkerson—the cold, unapproachable CEO of the powerful corporation where she works as a simple employee. He is a man she knows only from a distance. Arrogant. Untouchable. But when he steps closer, a familiar scent wraps around her, and the world stops. It's his perfume. The same as the masked man. She has already spent twelve nights in his arms. And there are still eighty-eight to go.

For one year, I believed Matteo De Luca had truly fallen in love with me. Our marriage began as an alliance, but he held me every night, kissed me before council meetings, and fastened the De Luca Donna brooch at my throat as if I already belonged beside him. Then his first love, Vanessa Ashford, came back. Within days, our official ceremony was postponed, her access was added to the Donna wing, and Matteo stopped wearing the family signet he once used to claim me in public. He said it was council business. But council business did not leave amber perfume on his skin. It did not sit beside him on a private jet to Palm Beach. And it certainly did not smile from the Donna’s chair while his friends watched me lose my place. The final humiliation came at a private dinner, when someone asked whether I was Matteo’s wife. He looked at me, then said calmly, “Elena and I have an arrangement.” That night, I stopped waiting to be chosen. Matteo could keep his first love, his title, and the home he let her enter. I packed my passport, my Florence contract, and the prenatal report he had never seen. Then I left New York with his child.

The night before my wedding, I found out I was pregnant. That same night, I found out my fiancé had already chosen another woman to give him his first child. Adrian DeLuca, heir to a mafia empire and the man who once swore I was the only woman he would ever love, came home carrying her perfume on his clothes and told me, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world, that it was only a medical arrangement. His dead friend’s widow needed an heir, and after I had failed to give him one through sixty-six rounds of IVF, he had decided this was the best solution for everyone. I said nothing. I let him go on preparing the wedding. I let him believe I would still walk down the aisle and become Mrs. DeLuca. But while he was planning our ceremony, I was planning my disappearance. On our wedding day, the estate would still open its doors. The guests would still arrive. The ceremony would still begin. But the bride Adrian DeLuca betrayed would die there. By the time he learned the truth, that I had been carrying his child all along, I would already be gone under a new name, taking his heir somewhere he could never reach.

PSA: This book has high smut intensity, intoxicating chemistry and compelling family and sibling rivalry. Aanoni Adukolapo was raised to lead. He is disciplined, charismatic, egoistic, and heir to a fortune. At twenty-eight, he has carved his name into a perfume empire, a revolt against his father’s tight reins. But power has never unsettled him the way Ere does. Ereadurami is thirty-five: elegant and dangerously alluring. The kind of woman who should be sacred, a taboo, and off-limits in Yoruba culture. Her boutique displays her clothing artistry, work of a master. She is sweet, refined, but behind that subtle demeanor lies a hungry succubus. What begins as a random suggestion inside her boutique soon spirals into a hunger neither of them can resist. Every glance, every stare, every breath is calculated, meant not to seem weak. She is older, forbidden, and everything his father would use to destroy him. But the closer Aanoni gets to Ere, the harder it becomes to care about consequences. Desire is intoxicating, hypnotic and surrendering to her might be the most reckless, irresistible rebellion of all. Ere’s Scent is a sensual and erotic tale of age-gap temptation, power, and passion where legacy clashes with lust, where rebellion clashes with passion , and one forbidden woman could bring an empire to its knees.

The words echoed, a promise she wore like a blindfold. “Give me a chance to prove to you that love is beautiful.” Kensington Darley had believed him. At twenty-six, she was the beautiful, trusting daughter of a gilded cage, and she had willingly traded her own life’s map for the one drawn by her boyfriend. His choices became her destiny; his whispered needs, her sacred law. Until the moment his love demanded her degradation. He didn't ask her to empty a savings account. He didn't ask her to sell the family jewels. He asked for her body, for her dignity, to be sold piece by devastating piece. The debt. It was a cold, unforgiving beast, and the only currency powerful enough to silence it was Kensington's unwilling performance in front of a camera. Every forced smile, every feigned moan, was a knife-edge decision she made in the name of love. She despised the spotlights, the sterile sets, the shame that clung to her like cheap perfume—but she did it. Because she loved him. But as she watches the man she is saving—the man who allowed her to be lost—a single, poisonous question begins to bloom in the darkness of her despair: Does he love her back? If the answer is no, what becomes of a woman who has sacrificed everything for a lie? And how will Kensington Darley ever learn to trust a single word, let alone love, again?

Stefan raises a skeptical brow."And why would I do that?" His voice was low, like a warning, and it made her shiver even though she tried not to show it. "We both have one thing in common," Mia continues, her gaze unwavering."Shitty fathers. A pointed pause hangs in the air."The only difference between us is that you are an illegitimate child, and I am not". Stefan studies her, the heiress in her designer armor, the fire in her eyes that matches the burn of his own rage. "That's your solution? A wedding band as a weapon?" He said ignoring the part where she just referred to him as an illegitimate child. "The only weapon they will not see coming". She steps closer, close enough for him to catch the scent of her perfume, gunpowder and jasmine."Our fathers stole our birthrights. Then, Stefan's mouth curves into something sharp. "One condition," he murmurs, closing the distance."No divorces. If we are doing this, it's for life" "Deal" Mia said without missing a beat. She would not give him the pleasure, she would destroy her life as she seems fit ................. Mia Meyers was born to rule her father's empire , until he named his bastard son heir instead. Can these two rivals, united by their vengeful hearts, pull off a marriage of convenience to reclaim what they believe is rightfully theirs?

I've been in a five-year secret relationship with Shawn Lowell. For so long, everyone thinks we're rivals who hate each other's guts. At a bachelorette party hosted by a mutual friend, the bride-to-be orders every guy who is still single to wear eye masks. After that, every single woman has to walk one lap in front of them. This is so that the men can pick up on the women's perfumes. If they find a perfume they like the most, they can embrace the woman instantly and become a couple for the day. I walk very slowly in front of the men on purpose. In fact, I even stop in front of Shawn for half a second. But as soon as Shawn takes off his eye mask, he finds himself hugging Alyssa Sutton, his childhood sweetheart and first love. "Wow! You really are amazing, Mr. Lowell! You actually recognized Alyssa from all those fragrances and hugged her on the spot! Even God thinks you two are a match made in heaven!" Alyssa's eyes slightly redden, whereas Shawn looks down at her with a doting smile playing on his lips. Both of them refuse to let go of each other. As I stand a short distance away, I just smile at the scene. Last night, Shawn was still kissing the scar on my chest in bed while telling me that he wanted to marry me. How is it that he's forgotten his promise in just the blink of an eye?

"They say marriage is a big gamble, and I bet on the wrong man." *** Victoria Solace was a once beloved Alpha daughter of the Palemane Claws Pack and an heiress to a renowned perfume empire. After her dad died, she married her long-time crush, Elijah Arison, making him a powerful Alpha instead of being it herself. She thought everything she had given was enough to keep a happy marriage, yet only to get a cruel betrayal. Being framed to harm his mistress' unborn pup, she was imprisoned in the dungeon. Elijah stomped on all her pride and still tried to suck the last of her worth out of her. In her darkest hell, she contacted a man who she once thought she'd never cross paths with again. Damien Verlice, Alpha of the Infernal Shadows Pack. Dealings with the devil always come with a price. But this time, Victoria swore to learn her lesson. She'd keep her heart and be the ultimate winner. *** My back bowed so high from the bed, and all my muscles were taut. I was too scared to move even a muscle as it would set off my orgasm. “Who’s fcking you, V?” he banged me hard as he looked at me with his burning gaze. “You. Damien," my voice was hoarse and I knew he wouldn't let me high if I couldn't answer right. "Fck me, Damian. I'm yours.” Cover by @Rainygraphic