Blunt Instrument

"Violà, listen to me," "No, hear me out Vivianna." Mason cut Valentino off, earning a glare from him. "Violà," Valentino started again. "Ugh I sometimes hate how I don't have a nickname for you." Mason mumbled under his breath. "Just can you both shut up? I am so overwhelmed with everything going on right now. On my one side, is none other than my babys' daddy, whom I used to love maybe still do. I don't know. And on the other hand is - sorry for being blunt, but literally my stalker. Who has been obsessed with me since I was a... well child?" "Well when you put it like that-" "You are the motherfucking stalker?" Valentino took a threatening step towards Mason. "Hey, I know you are involved in mafia and all but I know karate alright? I am a yellow belt... well a pink one but for some reason they made me wear the yellow belt again in my second year. The point is don't underestimate me." "Shut up, you both." I yelled. "But I was just saying-" I gave Mason a warning look, he sighed but still turned to Valentino. "Yellow belt. Remember!" *** A heavily pregnant, Vivianna Violet left her soon to be husband three years ago. She has always been possessive over her baby. She has ppd and thinks anything or anyone would take her baby away. But that wasn't the only reason she left Valentino. Valentino Ivan Morte is the most feared man in the country. He is a cruel, scary and demanding mafia don! He suddenly finds a tip that the love of his life is in New York and decides to stay to find her. Mason Logan is Vivianna's colleague. But he wasn't just that because he always changes work place when she does.

L'Étreinte de l'Ombre Anya, pianiste virtuose en quête d'inspiration, hérite du Domaine des Soupirs, un manoir familial où chaque pièce semble retenir le souffle du passé. Dès les premières nuits, les silences résonnent d'accords fantômes et des mélodies inconnues hantent son sommeil, accompagnées de caresses invisibles qui transforment ses rêves en partitions du désir. L'esprit qui habite ces lieux, Lysander, ancien compositeur maudit, se révèle être une présence aussi envoûtante que dangereuse. Prisonnier d'un pacte scellé dans la mort, il ne trouve d'écho dans le monde des vivants qu'à travers les sensations qu'il parvient à susciter chez Anya. Leurs duos nocturnes, d'abord impalpables, deviennent des symphonies charnelles où chaque note de la jeune femme renforce le pouvoir du musicien déchu. Alors que cette liaison surnaturelle atteint son crescendo, Gabriel, chef d'orchestre et premier amour d'Anya, entre en scène. Incarnation de la raison et de la mesure, il représente la stabilité d'une partition écrite, l'amour rassurant qu'elle a fui pour se consacrer à son art. Anya se retrouve déchirée entre : · Lysander, la composition sauvage d'une passion qui défie les lois du temps, au risque de devenir l'instrument de sa propre perte · Gabriel, la partition raisonnable d'un amour terrestre, qui exige de renoncer à la tentation des notes interdites Dans ce concerto à trois voix, le désir devient la clé d'une porte mieux fermée. Anya devra choisir entre interpréter la mélodie du salut ou se laisser emporter par le final envoûtant d'un amour qui pourrait bien sceller son destin à jamais.

The day after my best friend, Sarah Blunt married Patrick, the second son of the Brosnan family, I too became a bride and wed Matthew, his older brother. She married a swimming champion, and I, the rock-climbing coach. We thought we had our futures all figured out. Then, something happened that summer. The four of us planned a getaway but Matthew and Patrick’s baby sister, Megan joined us and our peaceful trip became a crowded affair.  While rock climbing, disaster struck—the rope snapped, and all five of us plummeted into the river below. The brothers rushed frantically to save Megan, leaving Sarah and me at the mercy of the river’s current, battered and tossed like driftwood. By the time the rescue team pulled us from the water, we were bruised, scraped, and utterly spent. In the hospital, Megan and I received devastating news that would change everything.  “You’ve been pregnant for 40 days, Ma’am. How could you put yourself in such a risky situation? Your baby survived, but your friend lost hers.” Shaken, I called Matthew to tell him about the pregnancy. His anger cut through the line. “You’re angry that I went to Megs first and now you’re trying to fool me with a fake pregnancy? She’s my sister—it’s my duty to protect her!” Sarah faced her own storm. Patrick practically scoffed at her grief. “Miscarriage? Do you expect me to believe that? The doctors said you only had a 30% chance of conceiving. I can’t stand women who create drama out of nothing.” Both calls ended abruptly, leaving us stunned as we stared at each other in the sterile light of the hospital room. In that shared silence, we made our decision—we would leave these men behind and start anew, launching a business together. But when the brothers received our divorce papers, they showed up at my door in the middle of a storm, kneeling in the pouring rain, crying through the night for a second chance.