Don T Kill Me Novels & Stories

Mirabel Cole was violated by her stepfather and her boss. Later when she thought she had found love, he was not patient enough to wait for her to be ready but raped her as well. Thinking that that is the way of the world, she sets out to get her revenge on all men. She used her beauty and skill to deal with men leaving alot of heartbreaks and corpses in her wake. Who would blame her indeed, she was made into what she is by the society.

18+ Mature content. - - - - Skye Hale swore she'd never let another person she loved die without answers. Her mother was silenced by a cartel hit, the case buried by the very agency she served. Skye became the hunter instead. Undercover. Relentless. Willing to burn everything to uncover the truth. Then Zane, the only man who ever made her feel safe, forced her to choose: him or the ghosts. She chose him. They planned a wedding. She almost believed she could leave the darkness behind. Three days before the vows, her best friend Red was gunned down in the same strip club where she danced to survive. The same cartel. The same cover-up. The morning she was supposed to walk down the aisle, an anonymous file landed in her phone. Proof that Red died trying to help her, and the killer's trail led straight back to the man who once ran her mother's missions. Skye walked out in her wedding dress, left Zane at the altar, and vanished into the night. Now deep in Australia’s dangerous underworld, she works as a stripper to infiltrate the cartel. The sexual addiction she buried years ago has roared back stronger than ever. Every slow, sensual grind on stage, every pair of hungry hands sliding over her bare skin, feeds the raw, aching hunger she can no longer control. As Skye seduces dangerous men for information, the stakes rise dangerously high. A former colleague wants her dead. The protector sent to bring her home hides a shocking betrayal. And the powerful man who ordered her mother’s murder is closer than she imagined, close enough to touch, close enough to taste. One wrong move, and she'll lose her life. One right touch, and she'll lose herself. Skye Hale came for justice. She might leave in ashes.

The night before my engagement, I saw Leo Vitaly in a naked embrace with my best friend, Sophia, at the villa. I did not cry or create a scene. Instead, I went crazy as I slept with three of his best buddies. I left evidence of our lovemaking on the wooden desk of his office, condoms in the passenger seat of his car, and a leather whip in his private wine cellar. All of this was left behind on purpose to tell him what I did. When Leo found out about it, all he did was put out the cigar in his hand and made a group call to his buddies. "You've all slept with her? What did she taste like?" Taunting laughter was heard from the other end of the call. "She's pretty flexible in bed." "Not bad, but she needs to be more adventurous in bed. The minor celebrities I sleep with are better than she is." "Haven't you given her a taste before by giving her a good lesson, Leo? She's too tight down there." My meticulously planned revenge was nothing but a joke to him. Leo had not cared at all. That night, I broke down. Leo sent me to the sanatorium after that. He 'treated' me there for an entire year.

My six-year-old son, Zac Quest, deliberately fed me almond cake, which I was allergic to, to make me miscarry. Standing in front of the hospital bed, he hid behind my husband, Sterling Quest, with a long face and refused to admit his mistakes, "Grandma said you won't ever divorce Dad once you give birth to my sister. I don't want you as my mom anymore. I prefer Ms. White!" Sterling said indifferently, "We'll have other children. Winona... is indeed more fit to raise Zac than you." Hearing those words, I gave up completely. The day I was discharged from the hospital, I went back home and cleared out all my belongings. All I left behind was a divorce agreement and a letter disowning Zac.

Marcus Blackwood was sent to kill me. He was supposed to get close, earn my trust, and end my life before I ever discovered what I truly am. But neither of us expected the bond, it happened so fast. At thirty, I thought I had everything, being the CEO of my family’s billion-dollar empire, flawless reputation, a future perfectly mapped out. The world saw a brilliant businessman. They didn’t see the nightmares, the struggles for being lonely and sex starved. Keeping the facade of being a perfect son and a perfect CEO. The woman drenched with blood calling my name. The wolves howling beneath a crimson moon. I was never meant to live in the human world. I am the forbidden son of a vampire princess and a werewolf beta,the hidden heir whose birth once nearly destroyed both clans. A living prophecy powerful enough to reignite a war buried in blood. And Marcus? He was raised by the Vampire Elders to obey without question. His mission is simple: Find me. Understand me, and kill me. But the closer he gets, the more dangerous everything becomes. Because he doesn’t look at me like a target. He looks at me like I belong to him. And when enemies begin to crave each other, when assassins hesitate, when fate binds two men who should never touch… War is no longer the greatest threat, but love is..... And if he has to choose between his orders and my life I don’t know if he’ll kiss me… Or finish the job.

The first experiment in the world of retrieving memories after death succeeds, and my memories are going to be broadcast live all over the Internet. My dad has just learned about my death, but he only says in a disgusted tone, "Who would want to see the memories of someone who is selfish, mean, and has nothing commendable at all about them? Today is the wedding day of Zoe and Cameron. Pause the live broadcast and stop being so sickening!" Zoe is my stepsister, and Cameron is supposed to be my fiance. After that, my father finds out the truth from the live broadcast of my memories. He begs for my forgiveness tearfully but… I'm already dead.

“Help me fake my death and arrange a completely new identity.” “Donna,” the man was clearly shocked. “Why? The Don dotes on you. The whole of Sicily knows—” “That’s none of your business,” I interrupted him. “I’m leaving in five days.” Walking out of the black market, the LED screen in the square was still showing footage of my lavish wedding with Don Alexander three years ago, a ceremony that cost over $500 million. Everyone thought Don Alexander loved me deeply, and I thought so too. Until this afternoon, on our third wedding anniversary, I returned to Sicily early, hiding in the lounge of my husband—Don Alexander’s—office, wanting to surprise him. Instead, I saw his secretary hiding under his desk. While the underboss Marco was reporting the losses from the dock smuggling operation, Isabella was kneeling between Alexander’s legs, skillfully unbuttoning his trousers. Her head bobbed up and down. After Marco left, Isabella smiled seductively. “Could your Donna serve you like this during a meeting?” Alexander’s voice was filled with desire. His hands kneaded her breasts. “Sophia is too conventional, too boring. You’re much more exciting in bed, you little slut.” I covered my mouth, completely devastated. But when I actually left, the Don, who had found me boring, was the one who completely broke down.

In the world of crime family, Don Damian and I were known for two things: him for running wild, me for standing by him. Everyone knew I was crazy about Damian. It started when we were kids. I was born with a congenital heart defect. My parents couldn't afford the surgery and chose to walk away. Back then, Damian was just a street-level errand boy whose father had gambling debts. He had no standing, no money, nothing. But to raise cash for my surgery, he volunteered for the most dangerous work the Coronelli family had, the kind where each job was a gamble with his life and every payday came in blood. He clawed his way up. The Don eventually took him in as an adopted son, and I became his wife, just like I'd always hoped. But ten years into our marriage, Damian stopped coming home. I'd sit alone at a table of cold food, calling him over and over. Sometimes a woman's voice would answer in the background. He had a private lounge at the family's club, and there was never a shortage of company. My best friend Vincent couldn't understand it. "Is it worth it? He doesn't love you anymore." I just smiled. "He gave me my life. I know he still loves me." Then Vincent forwarded me an encrypted video. A girl in a hospital gown sat on a hospital bed. At the edge of the frame, a hand with sharp-knuckled fingers reached into the shot, a hand wearing the family crest watch. Their fingers were intertwined. The caption read: [My hero promised to marry me once I'm better!! yay!!] I stared at the screen for a long time. That watch. I knew it cold. It was the one I'd fastened it onto his wrist myself more times than I could count, and there was no way I was wrong.

She married him to save her father's life. He married her to settle a debt. Neither of them expected to fall in love. Isabella Romano never wanted this life. She grew up watching her father drown in debts he couldn't repay, surrounded by men who smiled while they threatened. She wanted freedom — a future she chose for herself. Instead, she got a wedding dress, a stranger's ring, and a debt paid in full through her own hand in marriage. Dante Moretti is the coldest don their world has ever feared. He took control of his family's empire at twenty-three and buried his heart alongside the woman he lost. To him, Isabella isn't a wife. She's a payment. A term in a contract he never wanted to sign. But their wedding day doesn't end quietly. A traitor is dragged from the crowd in chains, blood staining the white flowers, and a warning whispers through the garden: someone close to Dante wants him destroyed. As Isabella is pulled deeper into a world of danger and betrayal, she begins to notice the man hiding behind the don — and a cousin whose ambition hides behind a charming smile. Slowly, dangerously, Isabella becomes the one person Dante can't afford to lose — and the one person who might finally teach him how to feel again. Because somewhere between the cold rules of his house and the warmth she refuses to let him extinguish, Dante starts to understand that love isn't the weakness he always believed it to be. But in this family, nothing comes free. Not loyalty. Not power. And certainly not love. When the past finally catches up to them, Dante will have to choose: the empire he built his life around — or the woman who taught him to want something.

Six years ago, my sister and I fell for the same man, Edmund. But he only had eyes for Rosalie, the sweet, innocent type. With them, I was always the third wheel. They got married, of course. And on their wedding day, I overheard my parents whispering. "The company's strapped for cash," my father said. "What if we marry Corinne off to our business partner? That'd solve our problem..." This "partner" was over fifty and twice divorced. So I ran. I fled to Sicily with the only five thousand dollars to my name. I ran on pure bitterness. In four years, I brought dozens of small-time Sicilian crews to heel and forged my own family: Vexille. In another two, I came back to New York and quietly became the most powerful woman in the North American underworld. By then, Edmund's power was crumbling, hit hard by a rival family. That's when my mother called, her voice full of that same old entitlement. "Your brother-in-law's in some trouble. Figure out a way to help him." Then a text from my sister, Rosalie, dripping with contempt: "Sister, I remember you have a little casino in Sicily, right? So you must know something about that Vexille family." "Edmund needs their help. See what you can dig up." They still don't know. I'm the Don of the Vexille family. I glanced at the schedule my advisor had prepared. Tomorrow, 9:00 AM. A sit-down with some minor family looking for a handout. The name on the file: Edmund.