Don't Expect

Seven years into my secret marriage to Leon Ferrante—Don of the Ferrante Family—and he still wouldn't make it public. Before the vows, I was his Consigliere. Every arms deal went through me. After? Just another housewife. Swapped my holster for an apron. Kitchen counter became my war zone. He didn't want kids. Said he had to take care of his autistic little brother. I got it. So I gave it all up—for his Family, for that kid. The Family blew up fast. The kid? Went from blank stares to sharp comebacks. Even started talking. But Leon still kept me in the dark. His mother wouldn't quit. "Give him a healthy heir. He'll settle down." I thought maybe she was right. I clung to him for a few nights. I got pregnant. Came home with the results, ready to tell him— Then I heard his "autistic" brother ask, clear as day: "Papa, are you gonna divorce Anna and marry someone else?"

Tenía ocho meses de embarazo y estaba en una gala benéfica con mi esposo, Don Massimo, cuando una familia rival nos atacó. La multitud entró en pánico. Fui empujada al suelo con fuerza. Había sangre por todas partes. Massimo perdió la cabeza, gritando por médicos, desesperado por salvar a mi bebé. Pero cuando desperté, se habían ido. Ambos. Sin bebé y sin Massimo. Recordé los disparos, a Massimo protegiéndome con su cuerpo. Un terror frío me invadió. Me arrastré hasta una silla de ruedas y recorrí el pasillo a toda prisa. Fue entonces cuando los escuché: a Massimo y al doctor. —Don, lo siento. Hicimos todo lo que pudimos. El bebé… no lo logró. Las lágrimas rodaron por mi rostro. Habían matado a mi bebé. La familia rival había matado a mi hijo. Pero sus siguientes palabras destrozaron mi mundo. —Solo había un equipo médico. Tuve que elegir. Bianca… ella también estaba esperando un hijo mío. Massimo suspiró y luego dio la orden. —Nadie se lo dirá a Arabella. Ella criará al hijo de Bianca como si fuera suyo. Él será mi único heredero. Me llevé una mano a la boca, con la visión borrosa por las lágrimas mientras me alejaba. El hombre que amaba era una mentira. Bien. Si quiere una guerra, la tendrá.

Durante cuatro años fui su secretaria y durante cuatro años calenté su cama. Lo sabía todo, desde los negocios de su familia hasta los secretos que me susurraba por las noches. Pero para él, yo no era más que un juguete al que podía recurrir cuando quisiera. En cuanto su primer amor, Sofía Costa, regresó al país, él me humilló sin pensarlo dos veces. La besó en una iglesia de Sicilia, me abandonó en una carretera, empapada por la lluvia con un corte de veinticinco centímetros en la pantorrilla, y luego me despidió con una frase fría y mordaz. Dijo que yo era alguien sin importancia, alguien a quien simplemente podía ignorar. Ella agitó el tulipán de peluche que él le había obsequiado delante de mí. —Yo soy la única a la que ama. Tú solo eras una sustituta. Mientras reconstruía mi vida en Northport y por fin encontraba algo de paz, este despiadado Don de la mafia se arrodilló frente a mi puerta, con los ojos rojos de emoción. —Elena, vuelve conmigo. Pateé su mano lejos con una sonrisa. —Tu supuesta devoción me repugna.

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.

"𝒪𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓇𝓀𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓈." -Martin Luther King. Jr. What is light? I don't know... Maybe will never know... Noah Carter, a seventeen years old teen, who joins The Royal High School after being homeschooled for his whole life because of his blindness, finds himself a mystery man whom he falls in love with...

“Kneel, Little thing,” he orders, his breath running down my neck. I find myself kneeling. It’s not like I have a choice. He’s going to hurt me if I don’t. And I’m ashamed to admit it, but I’ll enjoy every bit of it. My core throbs, and my mouth water hungrily as he frees his cock from his briefs. “You want it, don’t you?” He fists himself and my eyes follow the movement. I can feel the wetness dripping down my legs despite my position. The room is dark, and there’s no means of escape for me. Not that I want to. “Yes,” I whisper, my face coloring in shame. “Louder, Little thing. Don’t you hate me? Don’t you want to kill me—the man who killed your only brother?” He taunts. I don’t reply. The next moment, he grips my hair hard, and I gasp. “I want to.” I force myself to say. His face lifts up in a mocking smirk. “Good girl. Now, suck my cock like my pretty little toy.” He demands, slamming himself into my mouth and stealing my breath with one hard thrust. * Her life faces a brutal turn when a cruel Mafia Don breaks into her home, demanding the stash of diamonds that her brother supposedly stole. She tries to pick herself up and avenge her brother’s death, but falls instead into the trap Don Luca set for her. What is meant to be vengeance changes into something irresistible. Something dangerous. Something that might kill her if she gives in…

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?

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.

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.