Beryl Grace

Love, Happy Endings, Soulmates, these are the things we want and need in life, we want to get them, but it's easier said than done. Certain factors need to be considered. Relationships and Love need few unmaterialistic things, but sadly, Caden Ian Manchester and Fiona Guinevere Kings do not know these. Weighed with traumas and scars, they hid their true self from each other, but the past never stays hidden, and it gets revealed in the worst way possible. Fiona Kings looks like a real life Barbie, but she sure as hell doesn't live in a fairytale, if it's a fairytale, it's a twisted one, a very twisted fairytale. Her life has being chaotic, from a family that don't care about her, to an abusive and psychotic boyfriend. She met him, Caden Manchester, it seem like she's drawn to the bad boys, Aren't we all?. Caden Manchester is a walking trauma, a breathing disaster, a living catastrophe, an addictive poison. She knows she should run, everyone tells her to run, but once Love gets into the equation, leaving seems unlikely. Caden Manchester is an orphan, a drug addict, a result of a broken home. An Artist who has definitely lost his muse. He meets her, Fiona Kings. She seems like his saving grace, his last and final shot at redemption, all he has to do is let her get tangled in his web of pain, death and painful secrets. He's no good for her, he's aware of this,  She's too angelic, but like a moth drawn to flame, he's drawn to her, to light. She's his Vanilla, His butterfly whose wings he breaks, rendering her broken. He breaks her, shatters her, destroys her, but she didn't leave. He tries to push her away, but, she stuck with him.

“Oh daddy… I am going to c*m Daddy... I am going to c*m ” her eyes rolled backward as she felt her orgasm wrecking through her. “Yes, princess! You are going to c*m, but you are going to do that while staring into my eyes, so stare at me while you c*m so hotly on my fingers. Nuella’s eye rolled forward and she bit on her lower lips trying to keep her gaze on him, her nails digging into his arms and her body quivering uncontrollably. “Good girl… Now c*m for Daddy. Grace Daddy’s fingers with your beautiful c*m,” “Argghh… thank you, Daddy.Thank you.” Nuella’s back arched and her toes curled as she came hard on his finger, her body spamming uncontrollably as she tried to remain daddy’s good girl by keeping her eyes on his. “Good girl.. Daddy loves how you c*m.Keep c*mming.” he urged plumping his hands in and out of her pussy, her body quivering underneath him. Devine pulled his fingers out of her pussy, with her eyes holding onto his, he moved his finger to his lips and slowly began to glide on her juice. “So tasty..” He mummed hotly, s*cking hotly on it, while Nuella remained still, her p**sy craving more of his touch. Bad of her to crave the wrongest sin in the world, but he was the one who made her heart leap and her p**sy tingle at mare sight. Mr Devine El Lorenzo was her father's youngest friend and the renowned mafia viper, but her body yerned for his touch. Once, she got a taste of him, now she was back on his bed pleading for another, taking his command and being Daddy’s Good Girl.

The Clan Healer told me that without the vial of Progenitor's Blood, the Blood Blight afflicting me meant I had only seventy-two hours to live. But my husband, Miles, the new Duke of our world, gave the only vial of the precious cure to my adopted sister, Vivienne, the woman I had turned three years ago. "She's in agony from the rejection, Isolde. It's a pain you can't possibly understand." His tone was self-righteous, devoid of any concern for the patch of skin on my collarbone already turning to stone. I nodded, watching as the life-saving, dark red liquid slid down another woman's throat. I accomplished a great deal in the time I had left. As I signed the documents, the lawyer's hand trembled. "Are you certain you want to transfer everything, Your Grace? The territorial rights of a thousand-year-old clan..." I didn't hesitate. "Yes. To Vivienne." My adopted daughter, Lily, the girl I had risked everything to save, who was now forever frozen at the age of eight, cowered in Vivienne's arms, pointing at me and screaming, "Aunt Vivienne is my real mommy! You're the witch who turned us into monsters!" I offered no defense. "Yes, that's right. Be a good girl and listen to your new mother now." The Progenitor's Ring, the symbol of the clan's supreme authority, now rested on Vivienne's hand. "Oh, sister, you're too kind," she sobbed, her sobs a practiced performance. "I'll be sure to protect the family in your stead." I nodded. "You'll run things better than I ever did." I even signed away my control over the Elder Council, a council sustained by my own blood. For the first time in a century, a shadow of complex emotion crossed Miles's face. He stared at me,"Isolde, stop fighting. It's better this way. You need to rest." Yes. On my deathbed, I had finally become the perfect, submissive Isolde they always wanted. An Isolde who was about to turn to dust. The seventy-two-hour countdown had begun. I wondered, when I finally turned to ash,