Damon Salvatore Rule Number 37 Novels & Stories

The day CARL BRADFORD offered me the contract: "These are the laid-down rules; Rule Number One: You are not allowed to fall in love with me. Rule Number Two: You are not allowed to kiss or hug me, except if I want to, just to convince my father, which I wish will never happen." He didn't bother to hide the disgust on his face when he made the last statement. "Rule Number Three: No one is allowed to know about this contract, not even my brother. This is strictly between I, you, and my P.A. Is that clear?" I nodded nervously, wondering if it was the right decision as I clutched my stomach. This guy was unbelievable, and so full of himself, like he rules the world, and could destroy it with the snap of his finger. "You will get paid monthly as long as we don't get caught, for a year. If you want to ever opt out from this, get ready to pay me back." He said firmly. How on earth am I going to survive with this menace for 365 days? I inhaled deeply, and forced a smile at him. "I should get back to my boss, Daniel". His face twisted into a frown when I mentioned his brother's name. No one needed to tell me, that they were sworn enemies who will forever hate each other until one step downs, or preferable, dies.

“I was supposed to marry your sister,” Salvatore said, his eyes never leaving hers. “But every time I pictured my future, it was always you standing beside me.” ~~~ The marriage agreement was meant to bring peace between two powerful mafia families. Salvatore Moretti would marry Sofia Russo, the perfect daughter, the perfect bride, and the perfect choice to unite their empires. Everyone agreed. Everyone except Salvatore. For years, he had been obsessed with the wrong sister. Iris Russo was reckless, stubborn, and impossible to control. She spoke her mind, broke every rule, and constantly found herself in trouble. She was also the only woman Salvatore had ever wanted. While the families planned his wedding to Sofia, Salvatore secretly kept watch over Iris. No man lasted long around her. Dates were canceled. Suitors disappeared. Opportunities vanished overnight. Iris never knew why. Until the day of the wedding. As vows are exchanged and old enemies become allies, hidden secrets begin to surface. And when Salvatore finally reveals the truth, Iris discovers something terrifying: The most dangerous man in the city has loved her for years. And he has no intention of letting her go.

My husband's childhood sweetheart took the Cullinan I gave him for a midnight joyride. One person ended up critically injured. He wired half a million euros from the family account to hire a fall guy, then flew her to Switzerland for a ski trip. I called him from outside the operating room, desperate. "Your father is dying. Authorize the surgery, now!" He laughed, her head on his shoulder in the video call. "Using my father's health to lie? Sofia, you've crossed a line." The line went dead. The heart monitor flatlined. Later, at his father's funeral, he raged, swearing to find the killer and make them pay. I looked at the gathered family elders, then pointed at the trembling woman behind him. "The killer is right there. The one you paid to protect."

Ten years of marriage, and my husband slid the divorce papers across his mahogany desk. "You contributed nothing to this family. Under the prenup, you walk away with nothing." "Consider this a courtesy. Ten thousand a year. A hundred grand for a decade of your youth." "Don't even think about touching a cent of family money." I smiled and signed. I'm the kind of woman who's already died once. The next day, I took that hundred-thousand-dollar check and walked straight into the territory of his most dangerous enemy—Dominic Salucci. The man who controls half the East Coast underworld looked at me like I was inventory he hadn't ordered. "Why should I help you?" I leaned in close. "Because I know every decision Vincent Moretti is going to make for the next ten years. Every property. Every shipping route. And I know about the son he's hiding in Zurich." He studied me for a long moment. Then he smiled. "Interesting." What he doesn't know—what Vincent doesn't know—is that in my last life, men like them buried me without a second thought. This time, I'm going to watch every last one of them kneel.

The day before yesterday, my best friend invited me to a date at a bar. I later end up sleeping with a younger man. I never would've expected him to be my son's classmate, though…

When my husband is away on a business trip, I'm left at home with my brother-in-law. One night, he hands me a glass of milk that's been laced. Then, he violates me…

"This feels… incredible… you really know how to handle women…" I'm a figure photographer. Through my lens, I had handled countless women in their most seductive and lascivious moments. The women in my lens, no matter who they were before, always became top-tier models, because I trained each and every one of them. In a dimly lit room, a woman knelt on the bed, completely exposed. Her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, her cheeks flushed and her eyes hazy. The only thing still held high was the curve of her hips, lifted firmly in my grasp…

I'm a married woman who committed adultery shortly after getting married. In hindsight, the first time I came to close to cheating happened under my husband's orchestration…

I’ve always been someone with a strong, restless libido I can’t quite explain. I’ve never gone to a doctor about it, but I know myself well enough to realize it’s something that comes and goes in waves, especially when I'm ovulating. During that time of the month, I'd need to do it two to three times a day or my body would feel extremely uncomfortable. Normally, my tall, broad-shouldered husband would be the one to ease that ache and fill the emptiness in me. However, lately he’s been impossibly busy, away on business trips for weeks at a time…

A while ago, my sister-in-law, Annie Larsson, who is in her senior year of high school, came over to stay with us during her summer break. The well-developed young woman's daily outfit consists of a camisole and tiny shorts. She doesn't even wear a bra. When she walks or sits, her bust always looks perky. She has a slim, curvy waist, and her butt is always arched alluringly. Any man would have dirty thoughts about her, especially me, her lecherous brother-in-law who dares to act on his lewd impulses. The term "sister-in-law" is simply too tempting to me.