Dominic Moretti Mga Nobela at Kwento

I smiled shyly. "Do you still like me after knowing this?" He asked, worried. "Yes, I still like you. Being in a BDSM relationship is not a crime that I'll hate you." "You still want to be with me?" He asked in disbelief. "Yes." I smiled and nodded at him. "I'm not gentle on the bed, Anushka. I don't make love, I fuck hard, very hard. I like to dominate and test the limits of girls on the bed. I like to punish them, order them." I gulped the lump down my throat, but his words excited me sexually.

I caught my boyfriend in bed with two women. That same night, I walked into Milan's most exclusive club and drank whiskey for the first time. The next morning, I woke up with a marriage certificate on my floor. My husband? Matteo Moretti. One of Italy's four identical billionaire brothers. When I arrived at their palazzo, four gorgeous, terrifying men stood before me. Same face. Same cold eyes. Same cruel mouths. "Drag this lying girl out," their father ordered. Then one brother stepped forward, his dark gaze burning slowly down my body. "You don't remember me, sweetheart?" His voice dropped low enough to melt bone. "Because I remember every sound you made." They called

They are the only people keeping my family safe. “I am here for William,” My voice wavers and they stare at me, their gaze intimidating. “I was sent my Domenico.” My husband’s name stirs them. It means something to them, something more than I do, even though I am just as powerful. It has become clear to me that Domenico has harnessed his, and I have let mine lie in a name I no longer possessed.

Crystal glasses caught the light, silverware layered in perfect rhythm, servants glided like shadows. Dominic sat across from Matteo, his face so serious, his mind racing. Dante had summoned him to finalize land contracts, but Dominic couldn’t understand the feeling that maybe Marco had told him something, that the Don knew more than he should. Matteo sat at Dante’s right, his face covered with the hard mask of a dutiful son. But Dominic saw it—the quick glances, the flash of something unsure that he couldn’t get before his eyes darted back to his plate.

"You really think the Alpha has time for something as hopeless as you? He's with Luna Cassandra, planning the expansion of the pack! Get lost before we have to drag you away!" The grip on my shoulder tightened painfully, crushing my still-healing body. "Take your hand off me!" I snapped, fighting against the Beta's strength. Suddenly, a shiny modern silver car pulled up, with Damon driving and Cassandra looking victorious and jealous beside him. The windows were rolled down. Cassandra's eyes narrowed as she said, "Damon, look! It is the poor Omega! I guess she is still obsessed with you even after all this time." Damon turned to me. His face was cold, and fishy. The sight of him, the memory

I was beginning, slowly, to feel something like peace. It was on one of those mornings, at the Saint Marie Orphanage, that I met Dominic. Dominic Salvatore was, by any objective measure, one of the most powerful men alive, with old-money wealth, global reach, and the kind of name that preceded him into every room. The first time I saw him, he was crouched on the grass helping a small boy who had lost both legs fit the components of a new prosthetic limb, with no ceremony and no audience, just this large, extraordinarily handsome man with his entire attention fixed on the child.

“Do you trust me, Grace?” “Not for a second.” “Good. I don't trust you either. It makes for a clean partnership.” He stood up, towering over me, but for the first time in my life, I didn't feel small. I felt like the mountain he was trying to climb. “I have a meeting with Montgomery tomorrow morning,” Dominic said. “He thinks I’m bringing a soft loan to save his neck. The poor deluded fool.” “When you tell him,” I whispered, my fingers brushing the pearls at my throat, “tell him it was Grace Elizabeth Moreau. Tell him the dust he trampled on found its wings—and they’re made of steel.”

he said slowly, "would I want a partnership with you?" I leaned forward. Close enough to see the fine lines around his eyes. Close enough that my voice wouldn't carry. "Because I know every decision Vincent Moretti's going to make for the next decade. Every acquisition. Every backroom deal. Every weakness he thinks he's hidden." I paused. Let the next words land. "And I know he has a secret heir hidden in Zurich." Dominic's eyes changed. The lazy assessment vanished, replaced by something sharper. More alert. He straightened, his posture shifting from casual to coiled.

He was staring at me like I was one of the criminals in those cuffs. "Did you know about this?" His voice was low and controlled, but it was filled with an underlying fury that made my blood run cold. I blinked at him, barely able to form words. “W-What?” Moreau's nostrils flared. "Did you know your own husband was working for Ricci? Did you sit here, pretending to be one of us, while the man you slept next to every night was running shipments for the same man we’ve been trying to take down for years Alessia?"

“You better grab him while he’s still interested. Or he’s going to get snatched up in a blink of an eye.” “Like who?” “London.” Her eyes adverted to the back of me and I turned around to see exactly what she was talking about. London and Dante were outside, chatting it up like good friends. I turned back to her, ignoring what I just seen. “Back to Dominic,” I said to her. “Sure, back to him. In order for Dominic to obtain his missing trait, he had to give up his life.” “Dominic’s dead?!” I shouted. Everybody in the restaurant turned and looked at me. The door to the restaurant opened, but I kept my attention to my aunt. I seen Dante and London right when they came up.