Demons Don't Cry

She was back. She is innocent and beautiful. She was intimidated. He was ambitious. He is kind and handsome. He falls in love. In the sultry haze of passion’s fire, Two hearts collided, desire unbridled. Their love, a clandestine affair, Igniting flames that danced and swirled. Amidst tangled sheets and whispered vows, they wove a tale of stolen moments, Each touch a confession, each kiss a plea, To drown in the depths of their shared ecstasy. The moon bore witness to their stolen nights, As they traced constellations on bare skin, Their secrets etched in sweat and sighs, A love forbidden, yet impossible to rescind. But dawn arrived, cruel and unyielding, tearing them apart like fragile petals. Promises whispered, promises broken, Their hearts left bleeding, forever unsettled. And so, they became ghosts of passion, haunted by memories of that steamy affair, Their love a bittersweet ache, a silent confession, In the quiet hours when the world ceased to care. For love, once ignited, never truly dies, It lingers in the shadows, a smoldering flame, A testament to the heat of their stolen nights, A tale of love after a steamy affair, untamed.

On the day of Lucas' engagement, he managed to get a few lackeys to keep me occupied, and by the time I stepped out the police station, done with questioning, it was already dark outside. Arriving home, I stood there on the doorstep and eavesdropped on Lucas and his friends talking about me. "I was afraid she'd cause trouble, so I got her to spend the whole day at the police station. I made sure that everything would be set in stone by the time she got out." Shaking my head with a bitter laugh, I blocked all of Lucas' contacts and went overseas without any hesitation. That night, Lucas lost all his composure, kicking over a table and smashing a bottle of liquor, sending glass shards flying all over the floor. "She's just throwing a tantrum because she's jealous… She'll come back once she gets over it…" What he didn't realize, then, was that this wasn't just a fit of anger or a petty tantrum. This time, I truly didn't want him anymore.

My name is Isabella Wright. In my fifth year of marriage to the Don of a powerful mafia family, I find out that the protection charm he gave me causes me headaches whenever I bring it with me. I take out the sachet I find in the charm and bring it to Cursley Hospital. The doctor inspects the sachet and tells me that it contains a type of slow-acting poison that doesn't just cause harm to the victim's body but also renders them infertile after a while. I cry and exclaim, "But that's impossible! My husband gave this to me! His name is Vincenzo Cursley. He's also the person who owns this hospital!" The doctor looks at me in confusion. "Miss, I think you need to visit the psychiatrist. I know Mr. Cursley and his wife. They're very close and intimate with each other. Also, Mrs. Cursley just gave birth to a baby boy not too long ago. They're both now in the VIP ward, looking at their baby." Then, the doctor shows me a photo on his phone. Vincenzo was wearing his usual black suit with the Cursley family emblem embroidered on it. He was holding a baby in his arms, and as for the woman standing next to him… I know her. Her name is Claudia Henderson. And Vincenzo has always referred to her as his adoptive sister.

His fingers were already at the lace between my thighs when he pushed me against the marble vanity, breath hot, voice darker than sin, his arousal pressing against my throbbing core. "Open your legs for me, Mrs Valentino." He didn’t wait. He plunged into me roughly, his mouth trailing down my neck like he owned it. I hated the way my body arched for him. I hated even more that he smirked when it did. I was supposed to be terrified, not trembling for the man who forced a ring onto my finger two days after abducting me. Before Dante Valentino touched me like that... before he whispered filth and promises into my ears, I was Valentina Morrison: a quiet girl, psychology graduate, volunteer counselor blissfully unaware that my entire life was a lie. I didn’t know the truth about my parents. I didn't know my bloodline belonged to a mafia empire that their hands were filled with blood. I only knew one thing the night I witnessed a murder in a Manhattan alley and it was that I was going to die...until he showed up. Dante, the most feared Italian boss in New York. He was ruthless and calculating. He didn't save me, he claimed me. Only because I’m not just some civilian. I'm the last surviving Castellano heir, the one piece of leverage that can rewrite the entire underworld. So Dante forced a marriage to protect me. To control me. To bind me to him in pleasure and law. And somewhere between running from gunfire and running from him, I made the worst mistake possible: I let the devil touch me. I let his hands teach my body a language my mind despises but my body craves. I let him explore me.

When he kissed her on his stage he loved it. T him she was an angel and she felt right in his arms. Little did he know whose daughter he was messing with and before he did, it was too late for any saving. Now that he blames her for his misfortune, she must pay no what what the cost is and he will stop at nothing till she does. Worse now that they live under the same roof or rather yet, same room. Will his thirsty for revenge cloud his judgement or will love conquer everything?

My wife, Lindsey Kelsey, suffers from an aversion to intimacy. For ten years of marriage, she pushed me away again and again. Then, on our anniversary, she abandoned me and, in front of the crowd, kissed another man with reckless passion before the two of them walked hand in hand into a luxury hotel. Afterward, Lindsey brazenly declared that a real man should be magnanimous, not petty. Magnanimous? Then I wish them both eternal bliss—may they be bound so tightly they can never break free from one another. Later, I handed Lindsey the divorce papers with a blank expression. I was determined to walk away from her. But Lindsey went mad when she realized she couldn't find me anymore.

My billionaire husband suffered from chronic insomnia for years. Only the sleep balm I made could help him sleep. On the night of our seventh wedding anniversary, his childhood sweetheart poured a basin of scalding water over the old camphor tree in our garden. I wept and tried to save the tree as she apologized, “I didn’t know you used its leaves to make the sleep balm.” My husband gently comforted her and ordered his men to tie me to the tree trunk instead. “What a precious tree. You’ll spend the rest of your days with it!” With my wrist fractured as a result, I filed for divorce immediately. A month later, my husband was unable to sleep late one night. He stood in the garden and stared at the withered camphor tree.

The Don of the Vito family, Damiano Vito, has broken his wedding vows by cheating on me with the daughter of the rival mafia family, Bianca Sorace, while I'm still pregnant with his heir. He ends up executing Bianca with his own hands in order to reassure me as well as provide my family, the Cappas, with a satisfactory answer. My parents advise me, "Now that Damiano has returned to your side, you mustn't kick up a fuss for the sake of both families' interests." But since then, I've developed an obsession over cleanliness. Any form of physical contact is capable of making me dry-heave out of discomfort. Since I can't take any medication at all, I can only spend my days venting my stress by demanding that everything be disinfected before touching me. Damiano, who's known for having a violent temperament, is willing to keep disinfecting himself repeatedly for my sake. If he needs to make physical contact with me, he'll wear gloves. Whenever he enters my room, he has to change into a biohazard suit. No matter how hot and stuffy it gets under the suit, he doesn't utter a word of complaint. "It's fine. I was the one who broke the wedding vows first, anyway." Finally, the moment I command Damiano to wash his hands yet again, he loses control of himself before me. He even goes so far as to shatter the ashtray right before my eyes. "That's enough! All I did was make the mistake every man is capable of making! Must you humiliate me to this degree? How does that make me a filthy man?" Damiano deliberately allows his subordinates, who are drenched in blood, to throw a party in the estate, thinking that it serves as a punishment for my obsession over cleanliness. He intends to force me to yield to him by threatening the baby in my belly. Thanks to the nonstop aggravation, I feel intense pain flaring from my abdomen. Soon, blood keeps oozing down my inner thighs beneath my skirt. But at the same time, I feel a sense of relief that I've never felt before. "Let's get a divorce, Damiano."

Ever imagined a werewolf story with a little bit of danger? Just kidding—try a mafia bloodline soaked in violence, betrayal, and forbidden lust. The Evers don’t get fated mates. The Moon Goddess cursed their kind long ago. No bonds. No soul ties. Just power-hungry wolves who rule the underworld and marry for strategy—not love. Rivera fell in love with one brother but when a scandal scatters, the deal shifts. Now, she’s handed off to the older brother, Alpha, Don, Zayen Morozov. Cold. Dangerous. Merciless. She was never supposed to be his. But he’ll be damned if he lets her go. Story of Zayen Morozov and Rivera Dacian. Where the bad guys aren’t truly bad but aren’t good either.

Henry is known as the head of an investment firm in NYC, but his shadowed presence hides the fact that he is also the boss of a Mafia in Italy. Deep down, he carries the trauma left by his abusive, alcoholic father, making him reluctant to form relationships with anyone—except for one person, his childhood friend, Sarah. However, he left both his childhood and Sarah behind in a mysterious case. After an accidental meeting, his eyes catch that beloved silhouette, and he is drawn once again to her beauty and sweetness. On the other side, holding onto her dream of becoming a singer, Sarah has worked hard for her parents to fuel her journey. She wins an investment competition and is about to attend Harvard as part of the prize. Little does she know, the day she steps into her dream is also the day her future becomes intertwined with Henry, her first crush who had disappeared from her life. Will Sarah successfully hold onto him this time, or will he vanish once more into the darkness? How will the cruel cost of power affect the pure love they share?