Billy Hargrove Leather Jacket Novels & Stories

Warning: DARK ROMANCE Story contains detailed mature scenes possessing dubious consent not recommended for age group below 18 years old. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! Prologue Shadows engulfed him in a beautiful embrace. He looked like an angel with devilish intentions. It wasn't until he took a step towards her did the gravity of situation descended upon her and even then she couldn't do anything but shake in fear. She knew making a run for it won't do a thing, calling was not an option and if she screamed...she opened her mouth to scream but a meek plea came out. Her body's lack of response terrified her, tears gathered in her orbs with horrible anticipation. With his each step nearer she gripped the frame of her window tighter hoping to keep her balance. It took him three steps to be inches away from her body. He slowly took his suit jacket off, making himself comfortable as he amusingly watched her shaken face. She was so horror-stricken to even look at his face. She gulped as his hand cupped her neck in a gentle grip, guiding her eyes to his. His eyes slipped from the hold of her eyes to her lips in a second. She grew self conscious all over again. His heated gaze on her lips was unwavering. In the moment of bewilderment and growing self awareness her tongue unconsciously wiped her lips wet and it was all it took for him to descent on her lips.

Every Thanksgiving, my husband, Salvatore, brings home a showgirl from one of his clubs. He makes me kneel and serve them drinks. A lesson, he calls it, in how to please a man. This was the eighth Thanksgiving, and this time, he brought back a girl poured into a tight leather dress. "She doesn't have any decent jewelry," Salvatore announced. "Give her your heirloom diamond ring. Your grandmother's pearl earrings, too. And take off that silk choker for her." He smirked. "And listen, she's young, doesn't know the rules. You'll have to show her the ropes. Especially how to handle a man in bed." Every member of the Genovese family was watching, waiting for my humiliation. I didn't disappoint. I opened my mouth and asked Salvatore for a divorce. Salvatore let out a sharp, ugly laugh, his eyes full of contempt. "Francesca, you pull this same shit every time," he jeered. "Your act is pathetic. Even more dramatic than your performance in bed." He leaned in. "You really want to divorce me? Fine. I'll give you five million in cash if you actually walk out that door." The living room erupted in laughter. They all said I was playing hard to get, that I didn't know my place. But they didn't know. This was the 88th time I had asked for a divorce, and it was the first time I truly meant it.

So this is how the mate bond feels. A rush of energy, a pull like gravity tightening around us, and an almost maddening awareness of the other person. I wasn’t about to let it sway me though. Sure, the man in front of me is ridiculously perfect, but I wasn’t some love-struck fool who’d drop everything at the first spark of fate. I had a life, plans, and a fiancé waiting for me upstairs. I raised an eyebrow, forcing myself to stay calm even as my heart raced. “Take a number and get in line, sweetheart,” I said coolly, flashing the engagement ring on my finger in front of his gray eyes. “I’m otherwise occupied right now.” …Five years later, when I pushed the door open, my mate remained motionless on a leather couch, his piercing gaze boring into me with a cold detachment that sent shivers down my spine. He leaned back, the casualness of the gesture at odds with the intensity in his eyes. His arms rested lazily on the backrest, but there was nothing relaxed about him. His body was coiled tight, like a predator ready to pounce, and the air between us crackled with tension. “Is my number finally up?” he asks, his tone laced with bitter amusement. “My dear mate.” The words sting, but I can’t deny the truth in them. He is my last chance.

Three years after I died, my mother sent me twenty dollars for living expenses. Three years before that—the first time I ever asked my family for money—she said to me, offhand, "Sometimes I think you're just putting on an act. What's so unsanitary about a thirty-cent boxed meal? And why can't you wear a five-dollar down jacket? Face it, you're just more high-maintenance than your little brother." Later, when I needed twenty dollars to buy some cheap medicine for my stomachache, she blocked me immediately and cut off all contact—along with every relative we had. "Don't contact me anymore. I'm clearly not a good mother. I can't afford to give my son a life of luxury." But for my younger brother, who had just started high school, she spared no expense—renting him a three-bedroom apartment. Even the family dog got its own room. In the end, on the day my brother became the top scorer in the state, she finally remembered me. She took me off her block list and transferred twenty dollars. "It's only twenty dollars. Was it really worth giving your family the silent treatment for three whole years?" What she never knew was this— On the night my stomach ruptured, three years ago, I had already died. I couldn't afford to go to the hospital. I froze to death in the snow.

"Notorious Bachelor Lucas Hart, 29, proposes to his first love and childhood sweetheart, Natalia Rossi!" My heart broke as I saw the picture of Lucas proposing to Natalia on one knee, the same ring I found in his jacket pocket, in the photo being slid onto her finger. The camera zoomed in on Natalia’s face and a gasp escaped my lips. It was like staring at myself, but a thinner, sicklier version of me. I picked up my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t called in three years.  "Bianca," My father’s voice answered, "To what do I owe this sudden call?" "Dad," I said, "I accept. I will come back home for the arranged marriage and take back my inheritance." *** Bianca Salvatore, heiress of the Salvatore empire ran away from home, trying to escape the marriage arranged by her father. She met Lucas who she dated for three years, until his first love returned. He never knew about her true identity, and always shamed her for being poor. He heartlessly announced that he would get married to his first love, then make Bianca his side piece. Bianca didn’t want that life for herself, so she agreed to her father’s arranged marriage and took her inheritance. From being known as a poor pauper, to a famous billionaire heiress. Now her ex is on his knees, begging for a second chance. Will Bianca risk her heart again for the man who shattered it, or will she choose the powerful husband who sees her true worth?

On his birthday, Ravi Lazy Arsenio asked for an original plea while blowing out candles on a birthday cake to bring down an angel in his life. When Ravi headed to his room the same day he was startled by a strange man being in his room wearing only leather trousers. The man named Raymond said that his life belonged to Ravi whose purpose of his arrival was to take care of Ravi as well as help him in all of Ravi's lazy daily life, evidenced by a large tattoo bearing Ravi's name on his chest. Ravi wants to report it to the police but undoes his intentions when he finds out there's a big secret they have to cover up about Raymond that comes out of nowhere. Plus Raymond's behavior like children under five years old who cry easily, there is something that surprises Ravi is that he has big wings, black and soft, coming out of his back. Not only that, Raymond always shoots scents that almost make Ravi lose control of himself. Raymond's arrival also makes Ravi's life more complicated than before which leads him into a big problem that Ravi never imagined. Who exactly is Raymond? What is the real purpose? What dark past did Raymond and his family try to hide from Ravi all along?

Morgana Hamilton died betrayed, poisoned, and discarded like a pawn in her husband’s ruthless bid for power. Then she woke up. Thirty minutes before she would poison the most dangerous man in the West Coast—the Alpha King himself. This time, she refuses to be a sacrifice. Dante Hamilton is power wrapped in sin. Ruthless. Commanding. A man whose dark gaze strips her bare without touching her. He has always watched her. Always wanted her. And now that fate has given them both a second chance, the heat between them is no longer a secret—it’s a wildfire. To save him, Morgana must seduce him. To survive, she must betray her husband. But the deeper she sinks into Dante’s world of leather, dominance, and whispered promises in the dark, the more she realizes she isn’t pretending anymore. His hands on her skin ignite something primal. His possessiveness awakens the wolf inside her. And when he claims her, it isn’t just her body he takes—it’s her loyalty, her hunger, her soul. Yet power is never taken without blood. As secrets unravel, paternity scandals explode, and a kingdom teeters on the brink of war, Morgana must choose: revenge… or reign. Because this time, she won’t die a pawn. She will rise as Queen. And the Alpha who obsesses over her? He will either rule beside her… or burn the world down for her.

During the full-moon raid carried out by the Bloodmoon Pack, my squad accidentally strayed into a swamp thick with deadly silver mist. I had prepared for this. I always carried a moonstone that could protect against silver poisoning. But when I opened my leather pouch, all my fingers touched was a wishing doll woven from dried grass. I was about to reach out to the Elder Council through the mind link. That was when my Alpha mate, Jack Fraley, suddenly grabbed my wrist. "Easy, sweetheart. Don't be impulsive. I gave your moonstone to Lily. She's a fragile Omega. She needs protection more than you do." I clenched the straw doll, fury burning so hot that it nearly scorched away my reason. "Are you kidding me? Wearing this junk is no different from standing naked in the silver mist!" He frowned, completely unashamed. "Rowena North, you're my Luna. Protecting Omegas is your responsibility. Stop throwing a tantrum." I let out a cold laugh. "I'm a Luna, not a saint with no boundaries. And that moonstone was my mother's keepsake." After that, I didn't argue with him anymore. I severed our mind link without hesitation. Then, I turned to the Beta beside me and gave a clear order. "Contact the Elder Council immediately. I formally invoke mate bond severance. Effective now, every pack territory and alliance bound to my name is frozen."

My father found me too rebellious, so he gave me to Marco, tasking him with making a lady out of me. To the outside world, Macro was the ruthless boss to a Mafia empire, but to me, he was just a man with a perpetually stern face. I tried everything to defy him. I smashed his car. Then I swapped his PPT for the lowbrow stand-up he hated most. And he opened it during a company meeting. Yet, every rebellion ended the same. He cornered me, his massive frame dominating mine on the silk sheets of his king-sized bed, the polished oak of his desk, or the leather confines of the car's backseat. His hot skin against mine, his fingers tracing fire along my curves. He moved with a primal hunger that left me breathless. My body arched in unwilling ecstasy, in a dance of punishing pleasure, until my fight dissolved into moans, my will shattered under his relentless claim. I fell for him hard, convinced this was love, and he was the beacon of my dark world. But the truth shattered me: it was all a calculated game to tame me, to stop my war with my sister Karen. My guiding light went out, or maybe it never existed at all. So I became a good girl. I stopped fighting back. He thought he had me tamed, chained to his will. But in the end, I slipped free, leaving him alone with his shattered heart.

I was the perfect wife. For three years, I built my husband’s empire, gave him my love, my loyalty, my designs. And how did Victor Hale repay me? He stole my womb. He stole my daughter. He stole my freedom. That was the day Aurora Hale died. Now I live as Rhea Ashford — and I want blood. One reckless night, I mistake Damien Voss, a ruthless crime-lord biker with a wicked smile, for his powerful CEO twin brother. One bed. One touch. One unforgettable sin. When Damien discovers who I am and what I want, he makes me a deal: marry him, and he’ll give me the power and protection to ruin the man who destroyed me. It’s easy. He wants me, so I become his bride. I want revenge, so he becomes my weapon. But Damien isn’t just temptation in leather and ink. He’s dangerous. Addictive. A man who plays by no rules but his own. And in this contract marriage tangled with lust and lies, I can’t tell if I’m the one using him— Or if he’s already claimed me as his. TW: This story is intended for 18+ mature audiences only. It contains explicit sexual content (including kink, elements of BDSM dynamics), strong language, and other mature themes. Reader discretion is advised. BOOK 1 OF THE PRINCES OF SIN TRILOGY