Novel & Cerita Chicago Pd Fanfiction Jay And Hailey

"Lola, This is getting more serious than you think. "He looked up from his stack of files. You need to have a surgery done immediately." Lola took a last glance at the picture before her, she could feel her heart beating faster than normal. How could she be sick at this point in time?. Pain engulfed her as she remembered her engagement in two days time. She sniffed in the tears that welled up her eyes. "I can't have a surgery and I would never. "I have so much to attend to. I can't" she stood up and walked out as the doctor watched her go with a worried look on his face. Lolo xell at 25 hoped for nothing but a happy life with his fiance and her family. A day came and she was told that..... Still in thoughts of that, she found out a shocking discovery about her fiance and decided life isn't worth living anymore, so she decided to.. Jason Davis got back from Chicago only to find out that his properties had been seized by his Grandfather and the only way he could get it back is getting married again in two weeks Which is barely possible Having vowed not to be with anyone again after the death of His boy, he ignored what his grandfather said but something happened and Jason had to obey at all cost A wife in two weeks? Who would be in?

They caught my fiancé with my sister on the night of our engagement party. Tangled in a private wine cellar. My family name was dragged through the mud. We became the laughingstock of the Chicago Outfit. Then came Don Lorenzo Falcone. He proposed in front of all the Families, saving my honor and forging a more powerful alliance. For four years, he put me on a pedestal. But an old injury left him unable to father an heir. This year, through the family’s private doctor, I finally got pregnant. After that, his devotion became absolute. I thought this powerful man was my savior. My only protector. Until I heard him talking to his right-hand man. “Boss, Arabella worships you. How could you do it? You had the doctor switch the vials, made Arabella the surrogate for the Moretti heir. Just 'cause Isabella couldn't handle the pain? The kid’s due in two months. What’s the plan?” He was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was ice. “When the child is born, it goes to Isabella. It's the only thing that guarantees her future with the Morettis.” “And Arabella?” “I’ll tell her the baby didn’t make it.” “She’ll still be Mrs. Falcone. She’ll have everything she could ever want.” So that was it. My great protector. All of it… for another woman. This tainted bloodline? I don’t want it in me. And this sham of a marriage? I’m done.

Cammie and Callie the sisters from San Fransisco. Cammie the kind and sensible sister always taking the lead in how and when and where they live, while Callie is the wild, carefree sister, always relying on her sister to do all the responsible stuff. That is until Callie decides it’s time for her to go it alone. Upping-sticks and moving to Chicago, Callie lands a job in a strip club as a waitress. Where she meets the man of her dreams…. After some convincing Callie entices Cammie on a once in a lifetime holiday to Alaska with her new seriously rich boyfriend and his cousin and uncle. With promises of good times, dining out in lavish log cabin hotels and drinking cocktails by the fireplace, while over looking the beautiful Alaskan scenery. The only question is, is Callies new boyfriend everything he say he is? Things take a dark turn and Callie and Cammie find themselves scrambling and fighting for their lives. Will someone find them, help them? Robin, a good, down to earth, hard working, god given, mountain man. Burned from a previous relationship, not sure if he would be able to put himself out there to find someone new. Not wanting to face betrayal and hurt like that again. Content to live his solitary, dream life of running his self sustaining homestead miles away from the nearest town. Little does he know a broken dove by the name of Cammie brings trouble and temptation straight to his door.

The first day I return to the country, my future mother-in-law, Sophia Damer, smacks a check against my face and says, "Here's five million dollars. Leave my son alone. The Simpsons cannot accept a gold-digging nobody like you!" Before I can even explain myself, the young woman in a white dress hiding behind her says, "Please don't do this, Sophia. If this young lady treats Jay well enough, I don't mind caring for him with her, too." I chuckle. So, Sophia and Crystal Richmond, my half-sister, think that I'm the evil mistress who tried stealing her man away from her, when Jayson Simpson was my boyfriend the entire time. And yet, Crystal still thinks that she's the legitimate one instead. However, seeing that Crystal still doesn't know who I really am, I pick up the check without even looking at it and stuff it into her V-neck dress. "Nice acting. Here's your reward." Then, I take out a black card and fling it onto the table. "Here's ten million dollars, lady. Tell your son to stay away from me and stop bothering me. I find him disgusting! "Oh, and by the way," I say, pointing at Crystal, who is still being shielded behind Sophia's body. "Might I remind you that this young woman you're protecting is just the bastard kid my dad brought home last year. "If you're thinking of using her to get close to the Richmonds, I'm afraid that you're barking up the wrong tree!"

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.

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.

On my five-hundred-and-twentieth flight into Chicago, my boyfriend finally came to the airport for me. He held a bouquet of air-flown Blue Moon roses, and the diamond ring inside the velvet box caught the terminal lights. The moment he dropped to one knee, I heard the shocked gasps around us. “Eliana Lowe,” he said, his gray-blue eyes lifted to mine. “Marry me.” My fingers tightened around the handle of my suitcase. I held out my hand, my voice already shaking. "Luca, we--" The ring had barely slid over my finger when Luca laughed. He wasn't looking at me anymore. He was looking over my shoulder at the row of black SUVs idling by the curb. "Told you she'd say yes. Hand over the key to Warehouse Three." Laughter burst from the SUVs. Luca's circle spilled into view: casino managers, dock supervisors, rich kids who lived off the Moretti name, and Vivian Gray at the front in pale fur, laughing hard enough to wipe at the corner of her eye. “No wonder she stayed at your heels for ten years. If I had a pet this obedient, I wouldn’t have the heart to throw it out either.” Luca smiled and patted my head soothingly.“Eliana, it was just a joke. Don't be angry. I’ll make it up to you later.” I looked at the ring on my finger, then at the people laughing behind him. For ten years, I had played along with his games. This time, I didn’t want to anymore.

This box set includes all the books in The FlirtChat series for your binge-reading pleasure. Each woman finds her happy ever after with men who cherish, and worship her in and out of the bedroom. Book 1 - Daily Sext Seven men. One for every day of the week. A story too sexy to pass up. Chicago University newspaper is going under. I need to save it. Everyone says sex sells, and what is sexier than a polyamorous relationship? One woman. Multiple men. Now that’s how you sell papers. Book 2 - Triple Sext I get a text. One so dirty it drives my mind and body wild. I have to respond. And as the texts get dirtier, I have to wonder…who is this guy? Or is it three guys? Book 3 - Quadruple Sext Four brothers in Vegas. A fantasy far beyond anything I’d ever imagined, but now that it was in my head, I knew that I’d never forget it. I couldn’t resist the urge to let them do all the things that they’d promised in their texts. They wanted me; but they didn’t know who I was. Yet they were about to find out. Book 4 - Naughty Sext Bianca Young and her dad tried to cross us. They wanted to take my family for fools, and now they’re going to find out what three jocks like us will do with her beautiful body. You’ll find plenty of steamy scenes in this collection and feisty heroines who fall in love with men who will do anything for the woman who’s the center of their world.

By day, he's Chicago's most powerful billionaire. By night, he's the city's most dangerous protector. Elena Moretti has spent years fighting for the forgotten—rescuing at-risk youth from the violence that claimed her brother's life. She doesn't trust wealth, power, or the men who wield them. So when enigmatic billionaire Dante Salvatore walks into her struggling community center with a check that could change everything, she knows there's a catch. Men like him don't save neighborhoods out of the goodness of their hearts. But Elena doesn't know Dante's secret: by night, he becomes The Sentinel, a masked vigilante dismantling the criminal empire that murdered his sister. As their worlds collide and attraction ignites between them, Elena begins investigating the vigilante whose methods both terrify and fascinate her—never suspecting the man she's falling for and the man she's hunting are one and the same. When a ruthless crime syndicate discovers The Sentinel's identity, Elena becomes the bait in a deadly trap. Dante must risk everything to save her, but when Elena uncovers the truth about the man behind the mask, she's forced to decide: Can she love someone who lives in shadows? And can a man who's spent years seeking vengeance ever truly step into the light? In a pulse-pounding tale of passion, danger, and redemption, two wounded souls discover that the most dangerous risk isn't fighting for justice—it's fighting for love.

The morning was cold and I was currency. My father handed me to Dimitri Volkov, Bratva, like I was a contract clause. I said no at the altar. Loud enough for everyone to hear. The priest kept going. Dimitri didn’t even blink. That was fact one: I was married without consent, in Chicago, to a man who accepted silence as agreement. I left him later. Not in rage. In clarity, after I saw another girl get caught in his world with no choice, just like me. Then I went to war. Law school had taught me precision, so I used it. Civil suits. Asset forfeiture. Anonymous tips to the right agencies. I took apart everything legitimate he’d built, piece by piece, until he bled territories and pride. He showed up bruised once, signed over forty percent of his clean empire to my name, brought therapy receipts. That was fact two: I dismantled the man who caged me, on paper, without firing a shot. I still have the necklace. The one he left in my lap that first night. I wore it through the worst, through the year I rebuilt alone, through every hearing. Last month I was pregnant in a courtroom, arguing a case I won. He was in the gallery. The diamonds sat above my collar. No one asked. I never explained. That was fact three: I took something from that night and made it mine. It doesn’t belong to him anymore. It doesn’t belong to what he did. It belongs to me.