Novel & Cerita Chicago Fire Brett And Casey Fanfiction

They say opposites attract. Yet, Raffaele and Edwina avoid each other like the plague. Physically present, but lost in separate dimensions—two forces resisting, yet desperately needing each other to survive. They are each other’s equilibrium, just as fire needs air, just as heat demands the cold. They know it, but they fight it. Raffaele Marcello is the undisputed King of the Italian Mafia. A ghost in the underworld, ruthless and untouchable. One look in his eyes, and you’re as good as dead. He is a killer who has carved away parts of himself just to survive. Blood stains his hands—someone, somewhere had to die for him to live. He is his own law, the embodiment of power itself. Edwina Gemstone is fire wrapped in elegance, a force to be reckoned with. Sassy, sharp-tongued, and unapologetically fierce, she never bows to anyone. Success drapes around her like the finest diamonds, and she wears it with the confidence of a queen. But to touch her is to invite scars—she burns, and she does not regret it. Different paths. Twisted fate. A collision inevitable.

Stacy Smith is a walking disaster. As the clumsy, overworked secretary to the formidable Apollo Savage, she spends her days dodging his icy glares and his frequent threats to fire her. She’s one mistake away from the unemployment line—until the unthinkable happens. In a late-night lapse of judgment, Stacy sends a private, intimate photo intended for her long-distance boyfriend to the wrong contact. She doesn't send it to her lover; she sends it to her cold-blooded, high-society boss. When the photo leaks and the scandal threatens to burn both their reputations to the ground, Apollo does the last thing Stacy expects: he doesn't fire her. Instead, he steps in front of the cameras and claims her as his own. To the world, they are a deeply in love couple. To Apollo’s powerful family, she is the woman he’s breaking his high-profile engagement for. But behind closed doors, it’s a cold-hearted business deal. Apollo needs an out from an arranged marriage, and Stacy needs to reclaim her dignity. The rules are simple: Pretend to be in love. Survive the family dinner. Don't catch feelings.

In a desperate attempt to survive betrayal and save her broken family, Riva walks away from her cruel billionaire ex—only to be blamed, humiliated, and cornered. With nowhere to run, she agrees to a flash marriage with Luther, a mysterious man with secrets of his own. But in a world ruled by power and pride, can a fake vow protect her from the fire—or pull her deeper into it?

In the pursuit of happiness, he yearns for a love uncertain and burns with a fire that sets one man's frigid heart aflame. Will this romance be broken in Brooklyn or made in Manhattan? River Kennedi's heartbreak and a new lease on life sends him neck-deep into the corporate world when a ubiquitous Sebastian Black sets his sights on his skills with numbers and strange luck with making money.

Imprisoned, tortured, and left for dead, Layla has known only pain, until Maverick, a ruthless Alpha, finds her. Drawn by a bond neither can resist, he unleashes his beast to protect her and exact vengeance on those who destroyed her life. In a world of darkness, blood, and betrayal, their connection could save them—or ignite a fire that consumes everything in its path.

"I didn't ask for your help, you piece of , so you can keep your arrogant remarks to yourself." I snapped back, not liking the stranger's approach. "What did you just call me?" He demanded, halting. His voice sounded like the thunder that made the ground underneath my feet quake. At this moment I knew I had overstepped my boundaries. **** Jaclyn Tarr had not lived a normal life ever since she was a child. She was born on the night of the Wild South fire and for some bizarre reason, a golden fire symbol existed on the skin right above her heart. This, coupled with the mysteries surrounding her birth, made her the abnormal one as a child. And even now at nineteen, she was still labelled the abnormal one due to her dormant werewolf gene. Her life, however, changes when Alpha Dane Vixon walked into her life and she fell in love with him, but little did she know the alpha wasn't who she thought he was and the love she felt for him would be the death of her.

“Don’t you ever resist me again,” he breathed, his words brushing my skin like fire. One hand held my wrists captive above my head; the other traced the line of my throat, caging me against the wall. I looked up at him. My tormentor, my weakness, and the man I craved like sin itself. --- A fire stole her childhood. A contract stole her freedom. Now, a man dressed in a suit that costs more than her life is about to steal her heart. And possibly destroy what’s left of her soul. Evie remembers nothing before the fire, only the smell of smoke, the sound of screams, and a name she can’t forget. Years later, her life is a cycle of debt, slavery, and forced silence. She works herself to the bone while living in the shadow of her perfect cousin, never realizing she was born into a secret far darker than her life. Until the night she’s traded — like property to repay an old family debt — to a man no one dares to speak about. A man whose reputation bleeds power, cruelty, and blood. But instead of chains, he offers her a deal. Marry him, obey him. And never ask questions. Just business. But every time he touches her, the line between fear and longing blurs. His presence unearths flashes of her past, and memories that burn her alive. Because her husband is not who he seems. And the fire that destroyed her life didn’t happen by accident. As their marriage turns into a war of control and desire, Evie finds herself caught between the man who owns her and the truth that could set her free. But freedom comes with a great price. And love is the priciest thing she's ever had.

I was the odd one out in the Chicago mob. Other men's women spent their time fighting for affection, clawing for power, watching out for the homewreckers. Not me. I spent mine cleaning up after my boyfriend, Don Vincent Maro. His political rivals — I squared away. His brother's messes — I handled overnight. The women he kept on the side — I dealt with personally. Last month it got worse. He asked me to go chase off a man who'd been hanging around Sofia, his new girl. Sofia pouted. "Elena really can do everything." Vincent said, "That's why I keep her around." Sofia asked, "Won't Elena be upset?" Vincent paused. "Her? She's used to it." Seven years. No title in the Maro family. No public acknowledgment. Just one function — fixing things. This time, I was tired. I slid the last stack of documents across to Vincent. He signed them one after another without looking up. When he was done, he asked: Anything else? I said: No. It's all handled. What he didn't know was that at the bottom of that stack was the document terminating every identity I held inside the Maro family. The moment his pen touched that page, I no longer belonged to the Maros. And I no longer belonged to him.

The contractions were ripping me in two. My vision was going dark. My husband, Don Vittorio, the man who ruled Chicago, squeezed my hand. His dark eyes burned with love. "Just a little longer, mia cara. You'll meet our baby soon." Sweat poured down my face. I still found the strength to smile for him. Then a nurse walked in. She held a syringe. I thought it was to stop the pain. But Vittorio’s hand fell away. He took a single step back. The needle sank into my arm. I heard Vittorio’s voice. It was cold steel. "Dose her carefully. She holds on until midnight. Not a minute sooner. Not until after Ornella delivers." And then I knew. He thought I married him for the money. He was stopping my labor. All for a sick Falcone family rule: the first son born is the next heir. Pain tore through me. I reached for him. Tears streamed down my face. I begged him to stop. He bit his lip. His voice was pure ice. "My brother is dead. Ornella carries his only heir. You will do as you are told. You and your child will not steal his birthright." The drug hit my veins. The violent squeeze in my belly, like some invisible hand, just… stopped.

Fire and plague. Certainly no strangers to London Town.But when legions of living dead rise from the Thames’ fetid waters to feast upon the living, the city teeters on the brink of antihalation. And while floaters seek blood, another army takes advantage of the chaos. Boiling out of their rookeries of crime, marauders swarm through London’s affluent neighborhoods looting and burning.©️ Crystal Lake Publishing