Novel & Cerita Brain Wash

"Do you know how lucky you are?" he answered her question with his own. His voice was low and husky as he leaned his face closer, teasing her. Her breathing hitched and she tiptoed as if it could help avoid his hot breath. "What do you mean?" she tried to back her head more into the wall but it was a lost cause. The back of her head was already banging into the hard surface. It was causing an unneeded headache to form. "I mean, don't you know how many women would like to be in your place right now? Yet, you're rejecting me,” "Who said I'm rejecting you? I said I wanted my own room!” "That's the same as rejecting me babe," Chris whispered as he blew her ear, making Jihyun shiver. His words were confusing, but when they registered in her brain, she huffed and slammed her head on his side. Dumbfounded, he looked down at her in confusion as he held her hands tighter, “Dont babe me!” she glared at him and regretted it soon as he had her stare. *** When Chris was stuck between meeting his ex-fiancee and keeping his cool in front of his family, he chose the easy road. He forced his ever-loyal secretary to be his fake girlfriend for ten days. Simple. Easier said than done. Jihyun never wanted to curse at her boss, but bringing her to his family event and making her lie to their faces about being in love with him? It almost drove her off the edge. A disaster! One that she would never ask for.

When my parents got old, they needed someone to take care of them. Katerina—my younger sister—was off to Amiraka with her smug husband Chris. Meanwhile, I was crammed into a two-bedroom in Bellavaro with my husband Pavel, who drove a taxi. Mom had no retirement savings, so guess who she dumped herself on? Yep—me. Dad took the cash and ran straight to Katerina. Our place was tiny, but we still gave Mom the master bedroom. She hated it. Constant complaints, constant drama. According to her, life with me was pure misery. Every night, she'd hop on video call with Katerina, gushing about Amiraka like it was heaven, while throwing shade at me for not "taking care of her properly." Meanwhile, I was drowning—trying to hold it together for Mom, help my daughter prep for exams, support a husband with spine problems, and check in on aging in-laws. Mom didn't care. She wanted a plane ticket to Amiraka to party for Katerina's birthday. I snapped. We had a blowout fight, and she collapsed—brain hemorrhage. Even in her hospital bed, she stared me down, whining Katerina's name like a broken record. Then she spat out, "I should've never picked a useless daughter like you!" My chest cracked in half. I blacked out. When I woke up—I was ten years younger. Back to the day they decided who'd get stuck taking care of them. This time, Mom didn't wait. "I want Katerina to take care of me. It's my turn to enjoy life!"

This book is authored by Dripping Creativity. “Stay away, stay away from me, stay away,” she shouted, over and over. She kept shouting even though it seemed she had run out of things to throw. Zane was more than a little interested in knowing exactly what was going on. But he couldn’t focus with the woman making a ruckus. “Will you shut the fuck up!” he roared at her. She fell silent and he saw tears start to fill her eyes, her lips trembled. Oh fuck, he thought. Like most men, a crying woman scared him shitless. He would rather have a gunfight with a hundred of his worst enemies than have to deal with one crying woman. “And your name is?” he asked. “Ava,” she told him in a thin voice. “Ava Cobler?” he wanted to know. Her name had never sounded so beautiful before, it surprised her. She almost forgot to nod. “My name is Zane Velky,” he introduced himself, holding out a hand. Ava’s eyes grew bigger as he heard the name. Oh no, not that, anything but that, she thought. “You have heard of me,” he smiled, he sounded satisfied. Ava nodded. Everyone who lived in the city knew the name Velky, it was the largest mafia group in the state with its centre in the city. And Zane Velky was the head of the family, the don, the big boss, the huge honcho, the Al Capone of the modern world. Ava felt her panicked brain spin out of control. Trigger warnings: Talk about SA Body image issues Light BDSM Descriptive descriptions of assaults Self harm Harsh language

My roommate, Keith Kavanaugh, calls himself the "Holy Son of Frost". On the very first day we meet, he insists that the air conditioner in our dorm room must stay on until October, and the temperature can never go above 50°F. He claims, "A mystic says I'm the Holy Son of Frost, so I have a rare physique. I can only live in cool environments of 50°F at most." He even starts live-streaming, and his "special condition" instantly attracts a huge following. Meanwhile, I'm sitting right in front of the AC vent, so I'm shivering all over from the cold. I quickly turn the temperature up, but he immediately turns it back down and even locks the remote in his cabinet. "We're all educated college students here. Why are you so selfish?" he questions. Faced with his unreasonable accusation, I hold back my anger and try to reason with him. "We're in the north region. The weather here is cool enough in September. There's no need to set the AC this low. But if you insist, I can switch spots with you…" Keith cuts me off impatiently, "Are you crazy? Who sleeps right in front of the AC vent? What if I get sick from it? No one else has a problem. Why are you the only one making a fuss? Let me warn you—I'll melt from the heat. If you make me uncomfortable during my stay, I'll have you kicked out!" I realize there's no reasoning with him, so I plan to contact the dorm counselor to switch rooms. But Keith beats me to it! He goes to her first, records a video, and even posts it online. He accuses me, a local student, of being selfish and bullying him, someone who is from out of town. Just then, a new post suddenly appears on the campus forum. The poster writes, "My roommates are too wasteful. One guy washes his hair every day, and he even uses running water. He even takes a shower after every training session! Meanwhile, I can wash my whole body with just one damp towel. "And the worst part of this is that they want to kick me out after I made an itemized bill to split expenses. These cheapskates are always taking advantage of me. I'm looking for a high-quality dorm to take me in." My eyes light up instantly. He's the one!

When I was 18 years old, Luigi Conti, the craziest heir of the Conti family, pulled out a gun at an auction and executed the Don of the Serra family. That man happened to be my foster father, also the one who had me auctioned away as though I were a slave. When he was being dragged toward the armored car by the military police, he kept laughing like mad despite having blood streaking down his face. "Why must I atone for my sins? Since God refuses to save you, let me be your savior! From now on, no one in Sandalay has the guts to clip your wings anymore, my darling Isabella!" Seven years later, Luigi gets released from prison. He looks at me as I wash dishes for a living in the slums before snuffing out the cigar trapped between his fingers. That night, Luigi returns to his family and steals the position of the Don. After we get married, I'm the only person who has the highest access over the vaults under the Conti family. Luigi even forcibly expands the ring that signifies ultimate authority—which has been passed down from generation to generation for a century—and slides it onto my ring finger. He buys half of Sandalay's estates just so he can fill the vineyards with the white grapes I've mentioned in passing. He tells me that his turf is called Isabella. But everything changes when I discover a photo album stashed in a hidden compartment in Luigi's study. All 2,000 photos feature a young woman in a white dress who is reading in the library. That is the female assassin he's planning on training. The woman looks very pure and innocent. She's most suited to conquer certain bigwigs' hearts. But now, it seems that Luigi's the one being conquered by her. When Luigi finds out about my discovery, he throws the photo album into the fireplace and watches it burn in the fire with a stony expression. "I'm just repackaging her so that she can aid me in money laundering. Just pretend you never saw the photo album." I push the signed divorce agreement over to Luigi. "I said, sign the agreement." Frustrated, Luigi pins the divorce agreement on the table with a knife, his expression insanely dark. "Isabella Serra, have you forgotten about the Conti family's rules? There's no such thing as divorce. We can only be widowed."

I've been married to Salvatore Falcone for seven years. He's a mafia Don who drills raw terror into everyone's minds. While I'm the Donna whom he has announced to the world, in truth, I'm just a mistress who serves as his human shield that can warm his bed on the side. Salvatore has betrayed me countless times over the past seven years. The first betrayal occurred when he took my ring off on our first wedding anniversary and gave it to one of the escorts in the clubhouse on a whim. The second betrayal occurred when I collapsed in the kitchen out of exhaustion. Instead of saving me, Salvatore blamed me for not preparing the hangover tonic for him in time, so he had someone dump iced water onto me to wake me up. The third betrayal occurred when I suffered from massive bleeding when I was five months pregnant. When I begged Salvatore to go to the hospital with me, he told me that he was keeping Valentina Caruso, his childhood sweetheart, company while her cat was getting fixed. For 2500 days, I swallowed all of my grievances, agony, and tears. Last night, at the banquet of our seventh wedding anniversary, Salvatore had taken Valentina's hand and sat her down on the Donna's throne that was meant to be mine. At that moment, everyone looked forward to seeing me humiliate myself. This was the 101st time he betrayed me. After the banquet was over, Salvatore didn't even bother looking me in the eye. He just said icily, "Don't forget that you're only a mistress to me despite our marriage." At the crack of dawn, Salvatore wakes up with a hangover. He tosses his soiled shirt at me out of habit. "Wash this shirt immediately. I'm going to wear it tonight." As I gaze at him, I caress my belly, which is slightly swollen. "Sorry, Mr. Falcone. This is no longer my duty." Salvatore most likely has forgotten that we've signed a contract when we first got married. The clause states that we will get divorced seven years later. Today is the third day before our contract comes to an end. I toss the marriage certificate and the pregnancy report into the shredder on the spot. In three days, my unborn baby and I will disappear from Salvatore's world permanently. This time, I will never look back.

Five years ago, Olivia Derie made a deal with the devil himself. To save her mother from dying from stage-four brain cancer and settle her crushing debts, she signed away her freedom to ruthless Mafia don Vincenzo Moretti. The terms were simple: marry him, give him a child within nine months, and disappear from his life. But Olivia quickly realized Vincenzo’s cruelty knew no bounds. Beneath the cold façade was a man who viewed her as nothing more than a means to an end. When she discovered she was pregnant, the stakes became higher than her own survival. Fearing for her unborn child’s life—especially when Vincenzo made it clear he intended to dispose of her after the birth—Olivia did the unthinkable. She ran. Now she is back thinking she could start all over again with her daughter but the one person she never expected to see again walks back alive to her life: Vincenzo Moretti, But he doesn’t forgive, and he doesn’t forget. Now he’s found her. And he wants everything she took from him: He wants his heir. His wife. And the revenge he’s patiently waited years to exact. Olivia isn’t just his bride—she’s his obsession. Even though she ran, even though she stabbed him and vanished, he’s never let go. Now that he’s found her, he won’t let her slip away again. “When we meet again, Princess,” he whispers, “you’ll learn you were never free. You’re mine—now and always.” ---

"I am bound to punish you for breaking the rules," he said as he started undoing his tie. I swallowed, the thought of being punished by him terrified and excited me at the same time. I needed this. The heat pooled between my legs as I watched him undo his tie with one hand and his belt in the other. It was hot. He grabbed me by the neck, bending me over the table with my face down on the surface and my ass high up in the air. He caressed my soft flesh with his palm. "Count," he ordered, My brows furrowed in confusion, the haze of lust so heavy in my head that my brain failed to grasp his words. The first slap landed on my ass cheeks and I cried out. "Count," he barked. I whimpered but I nodded my head to his request. "One," I counted as the first slap came on my behind. I kept counting as he delivered blows to my now red ass. "Good girl," he murmured as he rubbed them gently, to take away the ache. I was moist and he could sense it. Dipping his finger into my pussy, he confirmed how wet I was for him. "Hmm," he hummed, embarrassment slammed into me with enough force. I barely knew this man and here I was letting him possess me. I liked it. I licked my lips in anticipation of what he wished to do, his lips touched the nape of my neck and I jumped. He licked the juncture of my neck, and the pulsating nerves there responded to his touch. "You taste so sweet," he murmured as he kissed his way down my neck. "T...thank you," I managed to get out. "Let me make you mine," he says,

"There should be rules if we are even going to do this," he said without looking at me. "I have always lived by the rules." He slid a file towards me. "This is the contract. The rules are stated there." I opened the file and glanced through it. "You can take it home and study them; give me feedback tomorrow evening. But I will read out the rules for you now because they start now, and in case your brain can't comprehend them, then I can explain." Anger seethed through me, and I almost threw the file back at him, but when I thought about the money involved and how it would benefit little Sophie, I bit my lower lip to push back the anger. He continued. "Rule number one; don't you fall in love with me." His eyes flipped up to me. "Crystal clear," I said. "That would never happen." Ellen never had fun in college. One night she decided to have fun with her friends and slept with a handsome stranger who disappeared before she woke up. A month later, she found out she was pregnant and searched everywhere for him, but to no avail. Five years later, she moved to a new city and met the same man she never thought she would ever see again. He didn't remember anything about her, and he was now a cold, arrogant man who needed a wife, and she needed money. They agreed to contract marriage with strict rules, one of them being never to fall in love with each other. They were sure they wouldn't break the rule, but as sparks grew between them and became too much, they found themselves trying hard to keep to the rules. Who will break rule number one between them?

Book 2 of The Shadow Alpha Series *** Bulky arms encircled my waist, successfully cutting off any movement from my upper body. “Why are you following me?” The husky whisper send my body into a second frenzy and it was only when the fog cleared from my brain that I registered that my back was up against a tree. Every nerve ending in my body was on fire as I stared into the cobalt blue eyes of my captor. Jasper Queen stared down at me with stern expectation and though his hand was no longer covering my mouth, I couldn't speak. “Speak up!” He spat making me flinch and swallow the ball in my . “I- I wasn't following you…” I croaked hoping he believed me despite the unconvincing tone. “So you were just conveniently wandering the forest in the same direction I was walking?” His question was obviously rhetorical but my eyebrows furrowed and I nodded slowly, looking at my surroundings, something about it seemed familiar. Jasper's hand slamming against the tree beside me made me jump and our eyes met suddenly, but what I saw staring back at me was a picture come to life, from the curves to the creases at the corners of his eyes, the pencil sketch that laid in my book at home both captured every detail and did no justice. “Don't lie to me!” his pressing against mine vibrated with each word and it was all I could do not to shiver with pleasure. “I'm not, I swear.” I could feel the tears gathering in my eyes, “I would never lie to my mate.” and just like that, any softness in his eyes evaporated. “I'm not your mate.” *** Join Sophia and Jasper as they battle age-old demons, secrets and their innermost fears