Does Ken Kaneki Die

Mom and Aunt Denise Taylor fell off the balcony in the midst of their heated argument. Dad rushed in just as they hit the ground, each with a broken arm. Without hesitation, he left Mom behind and hurriedly took Denise to the hospital instead. Later, Mom filed for divorce. Dad's face twisted in anger as he yelled, "Enough, Nicole! So what if you broke an arm and can't hold a scalpel anymore? What's the big deal? Dee is a genius designer. If she had lost her hand, her life would've been over! Of course, I had to save her first!" Watching all this in my ghostly state, I couldn't help but laugh. Did Dad really think that Mom had only lost the use of her hand? Mom didn't just lose her hand. She lost me. After all, I had severe heart failure, and the only person who could perform the life-saving surgery was Mom, the medical master herself. But none of that matters now, because I'm already gone.

TAKEN. She found it hard to resist him and neither did her wedding ring. People called it cheating, she called him a meaningful tool. A blissful marriage with a masculine attraction. What a distraction! "No one has to know" he said to her too.

We were taken. We were imprisoned. We were starved. We were abused. We were slaughtered. We were hopeless. Then... we were saved. We are a group of women, surviving against all odds against those who oppress us. We don't back down no matter how bleak the odds, and we will triumph against those who wish to use us for their own gain. We are many, and we will not be prey ever again.

I was just a married woman trying to survive my husband’s debts. But when I took the job as a maid for three powerful, controlling, dominant men. I walked into something far darker than dusty shelves and dishes in the sink. They don’t just want their floors spotless. No, they want me bound and bent over on their bed. They say I’m too pretty to be stuck with a loser and too sweet for plain sex and too soft to resist them. And they’ll stop at nothing until they ruin my marriage, break me open and make me theirs. Even if it means dragging me into a world where dominance is law, and obedience is survival.

The daughter of my father's first love suffered from heatstroke because she was left in the car, so he tied me up in a fit of anger and locked me in the car boot. He looked at me with utter disgust and said, "I don't have a vicious daughter like you. Stay here and reflect on yourself." I begged him, apologized to him, and pleaded for him to let me out, but all I got in return was his ruthless order. "Unless she dies, no one is allowed to let her out." The car was parked in the garage. No one could hear me no matter how much I screamed for help. Seven days later, he finally remembered me and decided to let me out. However, he had no idea that I had already died in that trunk and could never wake up again.

The operation had just gone dark when the chatter started in the comms. “Easy, Zane. Don’t burn through another mattress.” A low laugh came through the headset. Relaxed. Careless. “I’ve been deployed for six months. I needed the release. And don’t let my wife hear that.” More laughter. “Right. Take care of the little mistress first, then call home and play devoted husband?” My phone rang. His voice when I answered was warm. Intimate. Soft in a way it never was on the field. He said he missed me. Said he counted the days until he could come home. I watched the live drone feed while he said it. What he didn’t know was that three months ago, I had quietly transferred into the family’s Strategic Intelligence division. Every operation his crew ran, I was the one behind the monitors—tracking shipments, rerouting safehouses, intercepting rival signals, listening to every word spoken over secured lines. The first night he slept with her, I logged the timestamp. 00:43 hours. When the call ended, I dialed another number—encrypted, family internal. “I’ll accept your offer,” I said calmly. “After this job, I’m stepping away.” The voice on the other end was steady. Controlled. Powerful. “You’ll leave after the Palermo Capture,” he replied. “I’ll personally see to your relocation.” A pause. “Three days.”

Angel Hale has spent her whole life worshipping one man. Vincent Hale. He was the man who adopted her after her parents died in a mysterious cold blooded murder by their enemies. To Angel, Vincent is perfection. His deep voice dampens her panties, his presence makes her knees go weak. She calls him Daddy, not by blood, but by obsession, desire, and the twisted bond she built around him since childhood. But Vincent has a dark secret, one that will turn Angel’s world upside down. Now she is stuck between two daddies. Uncle Daniel who wants to ruin her and Daddy who tells her she is his. Only his. But Angel cannot resist the desire of both men who want to claim her. Can she defy the Daddy she loved so blindly? Or will Daniel pull drag her back into his darkness forever? And even more terrifying… What will Daniel do when someone tries to take his doll away? Even if it’s his best friend. The war between Daddy and Uncle is coming—and Angel is the prize both are willing to spill blood to claim. PLEASE NOTE: This book is an extremely DARK EROTIC romance with HEAVY EXPLICIT scenes, torture, human trafficking. The main characters are the villains you don’t want to cross paths with. Be warned!!!

Maliya was 6 years old when her mother was ambushed and killed by some rogue wolves right before her very eyes and her uncle, Alpha Kevin, did nothing to help. After she was declared dead, he accused her of his sister’s death, imprisoned and tortured her all her life. WILL SHE EVER GET HER FREEDOM AND LIVE HER LIFE OR DIE A PRISONER?

It had been ten years, and Ethan—my mate—and I still didn’t have a pup. One day, he suggested we adopt one from the Werewolf Orphan Charity Agency. “My mate,” he said gently, “pregnancy is too hard for you. You’d have to go through so many checkups and herbs. Your wolf shouldn’t have to suffer like that.” When others heard this, they all said Ethan loved me deeply—that he couldn’t bear to see me in pain. But I saw the truth with my own eyes. He took an infant pup from another she-wolf. “Luckily, Mia isn’t pregnant,” he said. “That way, the excuse of adopting an infant works—and the pup can have a legitimate status in my clan.” I knew that she-wolf well. The same one Ethan used to call a “stupid omega.” Swallowing the bitterness in my heart, I called my mentor at the Werewolf Research Academy. “I want to devote myself to herb research,” I said calmly. Three days from now, during the pup’s first New Moon blessing, I’ll fake my death in a fire. No one will be able to stop me.

"I'm in love with your body Soph, not you. . ." He doesn't do Love, He only does Fuck. He is a Son of the Devil, preferably, the first son.