Don Quijote

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."

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.

"I own you, Marisa," He whispered dangerously into her ears as he fondled with her breasts, causing her to let out a soft moan which she tried so hard not to let out. He smirked devilishly when he saw the effect he was having on her. His right hand found it's way under her gown, and she moaned loudly when he shifted her panties. "Yes," He smirked darkly, "Moan for me, Marisa, because I own every part of you, starting from your soft breasts, to your sexy thighs and your divine honeypot. I own everything, and nothing will ever take you away from me. Not even the devil himself." ★★★★★★ Five years ago, Alejandro, a Mafia boss, and Marisa Russo, the strong-willed daughter of a rival Mafia family, were deeply in love. Their passionate connection led to an unforeseen consequence: Marisa's pregnancy. Unaware of her growing child and Alejandro's true identity, Marisa vanished from the dangerous Mafia world. A cruel twist of fate erased her memories in an accident, leaving her in a foreign place, estranged from her own past. Marisa embarked on a new life as a waitress and the mother of a son who strikingly resembled Alejandro. Her ties to the criminal world remained concealed, even from herself. Fate reunites Alejandro and Marisa, but they fail to recognize each other. Marisa's amnesia prevents her from recognizing him, while Alejandro cannot identify his long-lost lover due to her transformation. Marisa has a nightstand with him, and after that nightstand, Alejandro becomes obsessed with her. He yearns for Marisa more and more with each passing day and night. He makes a firm promise never to give up until his desires are satisfied. What will Alejandro's obsession with Marisa lead to? Will he be able to fulfill his dark desires?

Cuando mi hermana menor se fue al extranjero, terminé casándome con el Don de la mafia en su lugar. Cinco años después, no éramos más que dos extraños que se odiaban a muerte. Él me despreciaba, de verdad. Estaba convencido de que había echado a mi hermana para quedarme con su puesto, armando todo un plan. Por mi parte, lo odiaba, porque siempre me trató como si fuera un simple reemplazo, negándome un lugar en el mundo. Mi falta de lugar en esa casa avergonzó tanto a mis padres, que el amor que me tenían se pudrió hasta volverse odio. Al final, mientras ellos celebraban la Navidad con mi hermana, él y mis padres me dejaron tirada en esa montaña nevada. Bajo ese frío que calaba los huesos, di mi último aliento junto al hijo que nunca pude cargar en mis brazos. Mientras yo me consumía en el frío, ella era el centro de atención, disfrutando de todo el cariño en la mejor Navidad de su vida. Pero al abrir los ojos de nuevo, estaba de vuelta en el día que ella regresó. Esta vez, no pienso mendigarles ni un poco de amor ni a Gideon ni a mis padres.

Lilith POV A pair of cold, bloodshot eyes stare back at me; if eyes could , I'm sure I would be dead by now. No wonder this place looks so familiar; it is because it's the mansion belonging to my owner, the man I was sold to, "Don Air." My orb fell on Flora, who was kneeling on the floor. Her hair was messy, and I could see bruises from her shoulder down to her arms, making me wonder what happened to her. "I gave you a to do, and you messed it up, huh?" The cold voice of Don Air was forwarded to Flora. He stomped his feet on her body continuously, and her screams and cries filled the atmosphere, bringing nothing but horror. "Master, please! Oh, please!" She cried in pain as she continued to get hit; her body was somersaulting on the floor. I look around the large sitting room, wondering why nobody is helping by stopping this cruel master or even pleading on her behalf, but I see few with pitiful expressions. My gaze met the man known as Thierry, the man's son. For awhile, I forgot he even existed. I got a sharp glare from him, and I looked away. "Please?  "If you are sorry, then you will not think of ruining my business, you good for nothing harlot," he yelled at Flora before leaving the girl. "You!"  His voice thurd in my ear, and I cringe in fear as goosebump from fear clouded my body. He was walking towards me with such a dominating and dangerous demeanor. "Argh!"  I was pulled by my hair and flung to the wall barely. I felt a liquid running down my head down to my nose—it's blood!

My Mafia husband, Alessio, was sleeping with his stepsister, Sophia. In the car, the study, the bathroom, even on the dining table, they left evidence of their affair everywhere. "Sophia, don't worry. Once I solidify my position in the family, I'll give you everything." "Blair… she's just a tool to secure my position." In our eight years of marriage, he had whispered the sweetest words in the world to me. Now, his devotion was worthless. I didn't cry or cause a scene. Instead, I made a deal on the black market. In two weeks, Blair Greco would disappear from this world for good.

When war orphan Alexei Volkov flees Russia to Belgium, survival means stealing scraps until a mob nearly burns him alive. Rescued by Lucien Devereux, the ruthless Capo of Brussels’ underworld, Alexei is thrust into a world of blood, secrets, and power. Trained as an assassin and spy, he becomes indispensable—until a mystical ring from his uncle in India makes every man who sees him fall hopelessly in love. Soon, the Capo, the Mayor, the Police Inspector, and even the Governor crave for him. Is it love or a curse? And in a city drowning in obsession, who will Alexei choose?

Eveyln White was used to living a double life - college student by day at the top of her class, mousy and introverted, and a bombshell stripper by night only known as Eve. Things all come to a head when her bouncer boyfriend, Charlie, angers a patron of the club, who turns out to be one of the most dangerous men in the world, Mafia Boss Antonio Bernoti.

The heir to the New York mafia family, the Donovitch crime family, chose me as a potential fiancée candidate. But I refused to become his wife and the future Madre of the Donovitch family. Because in my previous life, he missed the desperate call from his childhood sweetheart on our wedding night. That led to the sweetheart being killed by a Mexican cartel in revenge. He vented all his frustration on me, using sulfuric acid to disfigure me, tearing off my limbs. He tormented me for five long years. Finally, he used the punishment method for a traitor to stuff me into a gasoline barrel and burn me alive. In this life, I will definitely change my destiny. He has a thing for his stepsister, so I'll let them have each other. But this time, that cold and arrogant man ends up crying and begging me to come back.

En mi quinto año de matrimonio con el Don de una poderosa familia mafiosa, descubrí que el amuleto de protección que me regaló me provocaba dolores de cabeza cada vez que lo llevaba conmigo. Como cirujana, esto me alarmó. Tomé los pequeños sobres que encontré dentro del amuleto y los llevé al laboratorio de toxicología del Hospital Kosley. El médico los inspeccionó y me dijo que contenían un tipo de veneno de acción lenta que no solo daña el cuerpo de la víctima, sino que también la vuelve infértil después de un tiempo. Lloré y exclamé: —¡Pero eso es imposible! ¡Mi esposo fue quien me dio esto! Se llama Vincenzo Cursley. ¡También es el dueño de este hospital! El médico me miró confundido. —Señorita, por favor, deje de decir tonterías. Conozco al señor Cursley y a su esposa. Son muy cercanos e íntimos entre ellos. Además, la señora Cursley dio a luz a un bebé hace poco. Ambos están ahora en la sala VIP, cuidando de su bebé. Entonces, el médico me mostró una foto en su teléfono. Vincenzo vestía su traje negro habitual con el emblema de la familia Cursley bordado en él. Sostenía a un bebé en brazos, y en cuanto a la mujer que estaba a su lado... La conocía. Se llama Claudia Henderson. Y Vincenzo siempre se ha referido a ella como su hermana adoptiva.