Don't Offend The Male Protagonist

I'm married to Don Vincenzo Corleone of the Corleone family for five years. During those years, I'm the Donna whom everyone is envious of. But only I know that his love doesn't belong to me anymore. Vincenzo no longer takes me to core family gatherings. Our home is filled with photos of him and his childhood sweetheart, Lina Villo. At the banquet, Lina, who has won an award with the recipe she has stolen from me, nuzzles against Vincenzo's chest while receiving everyone's congratulatory wishes. Meanwhile, I get berated by the same man in public. Even when I get kidnapped, Vincenzo chooses to not save me just because he wants to take care of Lina. I've given Vincenzo five years of my love, only to end up with nothing good. So, I delete all of his contact information and board the ship meant for Castelloro. Vincenzo, I'm not going to pine for the genuine love and respect you owe me anymore. Let's not see each other again for the rest of our lives. We don't owe each other anything anymore.

"I'm wanted, Kimberly. Wanted by the Mafia..." Those were my father’s final words before he died in my arms. Moments later, I saw those legs step out of the shadows, marking the beginning of my nightmare. Leonardo Fiore, a cold Mafia Don,who is determined to use Kimberly as a tool in his game for power. His world is cruel and his words are like ice. "There's no love here, Kimberly,” he whispered. It's not part of the deal.” But Kimberly isn't one to accept whatever fate brings, without a fight. “If your love is not part of the deal, I'll make it mine to claim” she declared, feisty, crashing her lips onto his. As tension arises, Kimberly must decide : will she melt Leonardo's icy heart or lose herself trying to survive in his dangerous world?

His love is needy and possessive but yet, waits patiently for her broken heart to mend. Her innocent heart is forcefully shattered from deception, lies, toxicity and manipulation leading to a failed relationship and another. A third one becomes a taboo. Every man had something that would leave her regretting and in pains when secrets began to unfold. She develops fear to love and be loved by the right man. It becomes more difficult for her heart to open up when those hideous forgotten relationships hunts her back to her bittersweet past. Her hate becomes more intense. Her coldness mixed with beauty, confidence, smartness and determination makes her more alluring and wanted but how can he gain entry to a violently shut heart and how long can he wait for a flicker of hope? In this love hate entanglement, the outcome is uncertain. While one waits endlessly for a romance that would transcend work relationship the other hopes to forever shut down the desperate yearning to feel genuinely loved.

Mia Evans passe une thèse anthropologique, pour gagner sa vie elle fait du babysitting chez les Neill. Amelia travaille en politique, sénatrice, mère célibataire d'un garçon de trois ans, Timéo, Mia vient souvent le garder depuis un an et demi. Tellement que les deux femmes ont développés des sentiments pour l'autre sans rien dire, jusqu'au jour où l'une laisse échapper la vérité.

Él susurró el nombre de ella novecientas noventa y nueve veces mientras dormía. Nunca el mío. Durante cinco años, le di todo a Vincent Bonanno, el heredero de una de las dinastías mafiosas más poderosas de Europa. Hice de su casa un hogar, recordé cada detalle descuidado que soltaba e incluso abandoné mi sueño de convertirme en artista, creyendo que un día, finalmente, me elegiría. Pero cada vez que aparecía Alessia, su lealtad se inclinaba hacia ella. La noche en que el fondue hirviente me dejó cicatrices en los brazos, él se apresuró a protegerla de un rasguño que apenas le enrojeció la piel. En público, su mirada nunca se quedaba conmigo, en cambio solo se perdía en ella. Yo era la esposa ante la ley, más nunca lo fui en la práctica. Así que me marché. Solo con una maleta, los papeles del divorcio que firmó sin darse cuenta y un secreto que nunca planeé compartir: tenía tres meses de embarazo. Él se dio cuenta demasiado tarde. Para ese momento, el divorcio ya era real, al igual que el expediente de la clínica. Y para cuando se dio cuenta, yo había desaparecido. En aquel momento, el hombre que alguna vez gobernaba ciudades con un poder despiadado, estaba dispuesto a poner el mundo patas arriba para encontrarnos. Él tenía soldados, dinero y mil disculpas que nunca me dio cuando yo todavía era su esposa. Pero yo ya no era la mujer que suplicaba por su afecto. Era una madre, una artista y una sobreviviente. La pregunta no era si Vincent podía alcanzarme. La cuestión era si, cuando lo hiciera, alguna vez lo dejaría volver a la vida que destruyó.

I was reborn, back to the day before my wedding. The first thing I did? I swapped husbands with my sister. Last time around, I married Julian, a mild-mannered tech mogul. He couldn't handle my fiery temper, and I couldn't stand how soft he was. Our marriage crashed and burned in a year. My sister, sweet and timid, was in an arranged marriage with Robin Kane, the Don of New York's biggest crime family. She couldn't handle the brutal, chaotic life. Tormented by Robin's so-called childhood sweetheart, Isabella, she fell into a deep depression and died. So when I came back, I made a decision. I’d be the one to marry the Don. But I never expected that after the wedding, the cold, stoic Don would become a different man. Every night, he’d be on top of me, kissing me like he was obsessed, whispering, "Good girl. I'll make you feel good. Just one more time, baby?"

*Smut After her mate's brutal rejection, healing prodigy Sandra surrenders to a dangerously seductive stranger in a dark alley, only to discover he's her uncle Marcus. Trapped by blackmail in his isolated house, forbidden desire ignites between lessons. But Marcus harbors a deadly secret about her father's death. ----------------- “Fuck, Sandra,” he growled, thumb brushing over my nipple through the fabric until it stiffened, aching. “Vanessa’s right upstairs. If she hears us—” “I don’t care,” I panted, rocking up against him, chasing that thick pressure. “Make me forget today. Just tonight. Please.” I’m going straight to hell,” he muttered, then closed the gap. His mouth took mine slow this time, deliberate, like he was memorizing the taste of me. I sighed into it, hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders. He tasted like black coffee and smoke and sin, and I wanted more. He tugged me closer, one hand fisting in my hair, the other splayed low on my back, pressing me against him. Heat flared low in my belly, spreading fast. I shifted, trying to ease the ache between my thighs, and he groaned against my lips, grip tightening. His tongue traced the seam of my mouth; I opened for him instantly, meeting him stroke for stroke until we were both breathing hard. He tilted my head back, lips moving down my throat, teeth grazing the frantic beat of my pulse. I gasped, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders. “We should stop,” he rasped against my skin, but his hand was already pushing under my thin tank top, calloused palm gliding up my ribs. “We should,” I agreed breathlessly, then dragged his mouth back to mine, kissing him deeper, hungrier.

My husband, Don Lorenzo, ran New York's underworld. And he's the one who put me in prison. All because his childhood flame, Cassandra Viti—the Viti family princess—killed my father. I was the first one on the scene. The Feds caught me standing over the body. He faked the evidence. Made sure I took the fall. I spent three years in hell. His apology? A single sentence and an unlimited black card. "I owe Cassandra three wishes. Once you're out, once I've paid my debt to her, you'll be my Donna again."

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 caught my mate cheating on me with my step sister on the day of our anniversary and in return, he banished me from the pack! **** Zoey isn’t like every other wolf. She’s an omega but she doesn’t have wolf. On the day of her anniversary, her mate cheated on her and her step sister framed her for sleeping with another man! To save herself, she fled from the pack and a group of vampires attacked her and claimed that she belongs to their lord. Scared, she tried to fight them off and then she discovered she has a wolf! She defeats them but how did she end up in Alpha Graham’s pack? And why does everyone in the pack thinks she’s a vampire? She’s obviously a werewolf! Why can’t Alpha Graham stand her but why won’t he give her away to the vampire lord who claims to own her?