City On Fire Don Winslow Mga Nobela at Kwento

I'm torn. Should I help him? I can't just leave him to die. I mean he was still alive when he was buried. Arrrrggh! I scan the area and when I'm sure that the coast is clear. I look for the shovel and start to dig up. The adrenaline rush helps me to dig fast. After 10 minutes I hit something hard with the shovel.Lily Fiore: The shy girl that nobody notices but is now trying to overcome her past and anxiety.Salvatore Ugo: The only heir to one of the biggest Mafia on the underground society. He is hot headed and always gets what he wants.This is the story of how Lily saves Salvy and how Salvy loves and saves her in return.

I had been married to Alexander for three years. Everyone feared his ruthlessness, but he had always been incredibly gentle with me. But ever since Elena took a bullet for him during a shootout six months ago, everything changed. He always said she got hurt saving him, so I had to be accommodating. At the family’s most prestigious gala, my husband—the Don, Alexander—arrived with his secretary, Elena, on his arm. Pinned to her chest was the ruby brooch that symbolized the position of the Donna of the family. "Elena took a bullet for me. She liked the brooch, so I let her borrow it for a while. Regardless, you are the only donna here. Try to show some class." I didn't argue with him. I just removed my wedding ring and pulled out the divorce papers: "Since she likes it so much, she can have it. Including this seat next to you. I'm giving that up, too." Alexander signed without hesitation, a cold smile on his face. "What kind of manipulative trick are you playing now? You're an orphan, separated from your family, you won't survive three days in Sicily. I'll wait for you to come back begging me." I took out an encrypted satellite phone I hadn't used in three years. Alexander didn't know that I was actually the youngest daughter of the oldest Mafia family in Europe. But my family and Alexander’s had always been enemies. To marry him, I had changed my name and even severed ties with my father and brothers. The call connected. I took a deep breath and whispered, "Papa, I regret it. Send someone to pick me up in two weeks."

After returning home from a flight, I realize that my bottle of hair conditioner has run out in the bathroom. The thing is, my husband, Carlos Zappa, doesn't use hair conditioner at all. Seeing Carlos through the frosted glass, I decide to probe him for answers. "Did any guests stay over lately? Or have you started doing hair care?" Carlos flips through the documents, which are stamped with the Zappa family crest, impatiently at my questions. "Maybe a maid accidentally toppled the bottle over when she was cleaning the bathroom. Also, why are you annoying me with such minuscule matters?" When I put on the bathrobe, I feel a ticklish sensation coming from the collar. As soon as I look down, I notice a strand of dried yellow hair being entangled in the collar. The moment the steam dissipates, I see two pairs of intertwining handprints on the bathroom's glass door. I never thought that my home would grow this popular during my one-week trip away from home. I've been married to Carlos for three years, and yet this is my first time finding out that he's actually this wild in bed. So, I secretly text my father, the Don of the Carozza family. "Dad, Carlos has cheated on me. Does the bet we made three years ago still count?"

“Louder,” he said while watching me like a predator ready to strike, “I-I belong to you,” I stuttered while swallowing the lump formed in my throat. “To?” he gritted his teeth, “Nikolai Vasiliev,” *** Nikolai Vasiliev, the most feared and respected don of the Russian mafia. He was known as the ruthless king of the mafia whose world revolves around blood and lust. Love is forbidden to him as he promised himself not to love again. Juliana Mitchell, a brave, stubborn, hardworking and beautiful woman leaving her normal life, dreaming to find her happily ever after. All her life she was constantly reminded that she’s useless and ugly compared to her younger sister which made her doubt herself all the time. One encounter with the Russian don changed her life completely, pulling her into a web of lies, manipulation and pure torture. She’s ready to do anything to get away from his clutches but the question is, Will he let someone walk away from him the second time?

On our tenth year anniversary, I'm making out with my husband, Don Raimondo Brocchi, in his office. Just as I'm about to secretly slip the pregnancy report into his hand as a surprise, his secretary, Anna Altamura, walks into the office. We're forced to stop our makeout session. Meanwhile, Anna shoots me a provocative look before she begins chatting with Raimondo in fluent Italese. "Don Brocchi, who do you like more in bed? Me or the Donna?" Raimondo lets out a soft chuckle. The vibrations of his voice makes my back crawl with numbness. "You, of course. After all, you're younger and tighter, amore. Meanwhile, Cassia is already 30 years old." Haughtily, Anna picks up a document before returning to her seat. What they don't know is that my Nonno hails from Sicaria. That means I understand each and every Italese word they just said. After forcing myself to calm down, I locate the invitation mailed from Anworth Institute that comes with a permanent position in my inbox. Then, I key in a short response to the person in charge. I agree to travel to the institution. Before my trip, I will make sure to terminate everything that belongs to me.

Milo never expected survival to look like this. At twenty-one, he’s spent most of his life drifting, bruised by the world and too soft to fight back. His beauty makes people underestimate him; his fragility makes them think they can shape him. Isaak is a walking contradiction: cold-eyed, dark-inked, and terrifyingly controlled. At thirty-one, he has carved his body and his life into hard, elegant precision. Power clings to him as naturally as oxygen, and people follow him even when they don’t understand why. To him, Milo isn’t fragile. He’s fascinating. He’s something worth remaking. Kasym, older by barely a year, is the opposite—a broad, golden-haired monolith of warmth and violence. He smiles easily, loves fiercely, and destroys without remorse. Under his tattoos and bruised knuckles lies a heart that has bled too often, yet still hungers for someone to protect. He sees Milo’s softness and doesn’t want to change it. He wants to guard it with his teeth. But three hearts are not easily aligned. Isaak’s possessiveness clashes with Kasym’s tenderness, and both men fear that the softness they worship will shatter under the weight of their devotion. Milo must learn to navigate two hungers, two ways of loving that demand more than he has ever given. The question isn’t whether he belongs to them—it’s whether they can learn to belong to each other without destroying the boy who binds them. This is a love story built not on simplicity but on collision—where surrender becomes power, devotion becomes war, and three lives entwine in a bond too fierce to break.

For stumbling upon a purge, I was taken by the city’s most dangerous don, Lucca of the Rossi family. He said it was the only way I’d survive. So he kept me in his mansion, taught me how to shoot, and drilled me in the rules of the underground world. He would stroke my hair and call me his innocent lily. Everyone knew I was his woman. Until one day, he handed me over to the enemy to secure an alliance with the Balsamo family. That was when I realized I was never his lover, just the sharpest blade in his hand. I buried all my feelings, faked my death, and disappeared. Years later, we met again at a casino. He looked at me in a backless gown, the rose tattoo on my back on full display. “Eliana, I once loved that purity of yours. Look at you now—tempting, yet cheap.” I smiled lightly, brushing his hand away. “Can’t help it, Don Rossi. The owner of this place just likes me this way.”

“Help me fake my death and arrange a completely new identity.” “Donna,” the man was clearly shocked. “Why? The Don dotes on you. The whole of Sicily knows—” “That’s none of your business,” I interrupted him. “I’m leaving in five days.” Walking out of the black market, the LED screen in the square was still showing footage of my lavish wedding with Don Alexander three years ago, a ceremony that cost over $500 million. Everyone thought Don Alexander loved me deeply, and I thought so too. Until this afternoon, on our third wedding anniversary, I returned to Sicily early, hiding in the lounge of my husband—Don Alexander’s—office, wanting to surprise him. Instead, I saw his secretary hiding under his desk. While the underboss Marco was reporting the losses from the dock smuggling operation, Isabella was kneeling between Alexander’s legs, skillfully unbuttoning his trousers. Her head bobbed up and down. After Marco left, Isabella smiled seductively. “Could your Donna serve you like this during a meeting?” Alexander’s voice was filled with desire. His hands kneaded her breasts. “Sophia is too conventional, too boring. You’re much more exciting in bed, you little slut.” I covered my mouth, completely devastated. But when I actually left, the Don, who had found me boring, was the one who completely broke down.

He killed my father. Then he married me. On our wedding night, Alessandro Romano handed me a gun. "Shoot me, or let me fuck you like you're mine.”I should have pulled the trigger. Instead, I let him tear my dress off. Let him back me against the door. Let him put his fingers inside me while he whispered every filthy thing he wanted to do to my body. I came so hard I saw stars. Then I found the police report. Proof he murdered my father when I was twelve. Proof he's been watching me ever since. I ran. Got pregnant with his baby. Hide in my stepbrother's house. Big mistake. Now the monster who gave me the best orgasm of my life is hunting me down. And my body won't stop remembering how good his hands felt on my throat.

Aliyah Rhodes has three rules: 1. Don’t stop. 2. Don’t look. 3. Don’t get involved. She breaks all three when she finds Dominic Blackwood bleeding out in her alley at 11:47 PM. She saves his life. He pays her tuition. She says don’t follow. He buys her building. She says don’t touch. He kills the man who tries. Dominic Blackwood is a billionaire. A don. Wanted for triple homicide. He doesn’t make threats. He makes promises. _You’re safe. That’s the only rule that matters._ Aliyah’s broke, pissed, and done being owned by anyone. But $260K says she’s already his. And his aunt wants her dead. He won’t let her go. She won’t say thank you. Neither of them runs. *Owned by the Don* is a dark, open-door romance where debt is a weapon, “no” is a dare, and love looks a lot like surveillance.