Emissary Veins Novels & Stories

So there I was, stuck in this dark Victorian mansion for a whole freaking century, thinking I'd never get out. Then, out of nowhere, these two gorgeous girls swoop in and rescue me! I couldn't believe it, and we instantly hit it off. They showed me a whole new world I'd only ever imagined, and I was all about living a normal human life.   But just when I thought things were looking up, this vampire named Vivaldi pops up out of thin air, grinning like a possessed Jack-o'-lantern. I mean, a name like Vivaldi is bound to give you the creeps, right? He claimed I had some ancient first blood running through my veins and demanded that I sign some crazy blood contract with him—the kind of deal that comes with some seriously freaky consequences.   Vivaldi was trying to sell me the idea that this blood contract was his only lifeline, the only way to save his skin from something worse than death. But I wasn't some clueless newborn vamp; I knew better than to just dive into something as serious as a blood contract. Those things come with some heavy consequences, and I wasn't about to sign up for that without a second thought.   The problem was, if I didn't go along with his messed-up plan, he promised to make my friends' lives a living hell—the very people I'd started to care about. I was trapped between a rock and a hard place. If I decided to team up with Vivaldi, I'd be keeping him around, which is far from ideal. But if I refused, my friends and the whole town of Shadowvale would be in serious danger.    It felt like I was caught in this impossible situation, like I was trying to choose between two rotten apples.

“Don't tell me what to do.” I glared at him, my breath catching at the dark, hungry look in his eyes when he backed me up against the edge of the desk. “That's very ironic because I am the one who always gets to tell you when to come for me. So yeah, I'll tell you what to do and when I tell you to bend over the fucking desk, you fucking do it, Mrs. Sinclair.” He seethed huskily, spinning me around harshly so that my face got stuffed against the desk with his raging hard-on pressing into me. It fired up the dark thrill coursing through my veins and I did the one thing that betrayed the guard I was trying to put up. I fucking moaned. •••• After her ex-boyfriend ruined her life and crushed her heart into pieces by getting married to a renowned supermodel, Katherine Perez, the enigmatic artist decided to get her pound of flesh by orchestrating his kidnap on the morning of his wedding. Katherine was blinded but rage and wanted to stop the wedding by all means but things took a drastic turn when the team she hired accidentally kidnapped someone else. He wasn't just anyone. He was the head of the US Mafia. Christophe Sinclair. The devil in a suit. Katherine's defiance allowed her to believe that she could get away with the grave crime she committed but everything in her life took a turn for the worse when a Mafia Don who has never been fazed by any woman comes after her with everything he has. Caught in the web of a man who reminds her of every reason she chose to lock her heart away from the world, will Katherine allow herself to be vulnerable again after everything she lost?

Our story started with a single, reckless night of sin while he was drugged. But I didn't regret it. After that night, I foolishly believed I had claimed his heart. For six years, we were inseparable and became a couple that made the entire underworld envious. However, everything was changed when I overheard him laughing with his capos outside the lounge. "Vincent, when will you put a ring on Lyra’s finger?" My footsteps froze. Then, his voice, still cold and utterly merciless, cut through the door. "She’s nothing but a fuck buddy. How could I marry her?" My heart hammered against my ribs, a sudden, violent warning. A suffocating, dead silence fell over the lounge. "When I broke up with my ex, she asked me to try dating other women. If we still have feelings for each other after six years, we’d reunite. We have a deal." His tone was chillingly calm. "My trial is over. It’s time for her to come back." "What about Lyra?" Another capo asked, sounding almost pitying. "I’ll throw her a fake wedding." Vincent replied, a cruel smirk audible in his voice. "Let her have little fantasy. It’s the least I can do before I discard her." A glacial chill seeped into my veins, making my fingertips tremble. Six years of affection…All those moments I thought were real were nothing but a twisted, calculated trial. Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let them fall. I resolutely turned on my heel and walked away into the shadows. By dawn, I booked a one-way flight to Switzerland.

EZREN: Kiss or kill. Those were always the two options left.. until the past walks back into my life in the form of blue eyes, ginger curls, and a tattoo he swears I should remember. Knox Graye. A diagnosed psychopath. Says he was my brother’s boyfriend. That I left him to die and that I hold the only truth to his death. He is everywhere. Digging up my lies. Ruining what’s left of my life. Call me ‘Cherry’ like it means something. I swear I hate it. I hate him. I don’t know if he wants closure, revenge, or just someone to break. Either way, I’m his target and his third option. KNOX: Everyone thinks I’ve got a loose screw in the head but they're wrong. I lost the whole damn toolbox, buried six feet under with the only person I ever loved. I've spent six years grieving. Dying in pieces while he rots away in a grave but now? Now someone else walk around in his bones, smiling with his lips like he fuckin’ owns it. Like I wouldn’t recognize my own goddamn Cherry. Except now he calls himself Ezren. Cute. He thinks he has been hiding behind top grades and golden-boy charm, but I built his whole damn maze. And now that he's close? I’m done with subtlety. I want chaos in his veins, his secrets peeled off like skin. I want to crawl into the part of his head where he still hears his brother’s laugh and whisper: “You were always mine." He doesn’t know it yet, but I’m going to dismantle him. Brick by fucking brick. And when he finally breaks, I’ll be there to offer him a choice. “Kiss or kill, Cherry?”

“Why are you doing this to me?” I asked, unable to stop my tears from falling. “This isn’t you. This isn’t the man I fell for. Rhys… I truly loved you.” “The person you fell for was a boy,” he spat, his hand tightening around my throat. “And the man he is now doesn’t need your fucking love anymore.” “Can’t we just—” “Enough,” he snapped. “You were everything to me until you ripped my heart open. Now, all I want to do when I look at you is kill you.” I inhaled sharply. “You’re mine, Fiorella,” he said, his voice sending chills down my spine. “And not the way you were before. You’re mine to break, to fuck, and to destroy piece by piece until I lose what’s left of myself in you.” ❧ Fiorella Zivenza was the only thing Rhys Gravari ever loved more than life itself. She was also the reason he learned to hate when she broke his heart. She thought she had escaped her past the day Rhys let her go. She was wrong. Years later, the man she once loved returns as a powerful, dangerous mafia Don—and her forced husband. But Rhys doesn’t want love anymore. He wants revenge. He wants to send her to the edge of darkness the same way she destroyed him. But the line between hate and obsession begins to blur… and long-buried lies begin to unravel. ❧ BOOK 2 of the Veins Of Darkness Series — interconnected standalone dark romance novels. BOOK 1 – Accidentally Married to the Billionaire Single Dad BOOK 2 – Forced Marriage to My Mafia Ex-Boyfriend BOOK 3 BOOK 4 Copyright © 2026 by Siemuri Daniella. All rights reserved. No reproduction, distribution, transmission, or storage without written permission from the author.

"Sorry, but we've oversold the seats in this flight. We'll give you a compensation. Please get off the plane right now." The manager of the airline company keeps a firm grip on my luggage. I look at him coldly before turning to look at the woman, who's covered in branded apparel from head to toe. After all, the manager has just welcomed her onto the plane. "Why does that latecomer get to board the plane? Meanwhile, I'm the one who's bought my own ticket at the regular price, am the one who gets kicked off the plane!" The manager chortles in return. He lowers his voice before mocking me, "That's because she's Kellie Castille, the heiress of the top-tier medical conglomerate in Jorleton! She's in a hurry to travel to Jorleton to hire the mysterious miracle doctor in order to save her life! "I don't care how urgent your matter is—there's no way it can be even more urgent than Ms. Castille's! If you cause any sort of delay to her business, nothing you do can ever make it up to her! Now hurry up and get off the plane!" A few security guards drag me off the plane forcibly. Just like that, I'm forced to watch the door close before my eyes. Fury courses through my veins at that moment. According to the manager, that Kellie woman is afflicted with a terminal disease. What he doesn't know is that I'm the "mysterious miracle doctor" who the Castilles have been begging for the past three months to accept their request. Today is the day I finally agree to fly to Jorleton in order to perform the life-saving surgery on Kellie. Since Kellie has already kicked me off the flight, I won't be going through with the surgery, then. Kellie can go to hell for all I care!

My family home accidentally catches on fire, and my father risks his life to save my sister. He ends up with severe burns and urgently needs a blood transfusion to save his life. I'm not in the vicinity, so I ask my fiancé to help. He tells me the hospital doesn't have enough blood stored and mobilizes the city's blood banks—he does it to save my sister, who only has minor burns. Leonard Gallagher shows up when I'm at my most desperate. He takes 600ml of my blood and rushes back to my hometown. Meanwhile, I pass out by the roadside due to severe blood loss. When I wake up, Leonard tells me my father has died due to significant blood loss. I'm disfigured after knocking my head on a sharp rock. He holds my bandaged face tenderly and tells me he'll use his life to make it up to me. After three years of marriage, I'm six months pregnant when I lose consciousness and need to be rescued. That's when I overhear Leonard's conversation with a doctor. "It's been three years. Can we do the skin grafting procedure again? Zoe needs it for her cosmetic surgery." "Mrs. Gallagher has recovered very well, so it's okay to proceed with the procedure. However, even if she's Ms. Lore's sister, there's still a chance of rejection." "Her blood already flows in Zoe's veins—what does the skin matter? It's already the second time, anyway." It turns out the help I've given on the brink of death only leads to Zoe Lore's enhanced beauty. To Leonard, I'm nothing but a source of flesh and blood for Zoe. I'm tired. I think it's time to be reunited with my father.

When Avelina Salazar's father, the Alpha of the Crimson Hounds pack, is brutally murdered before her eyes by her own uncles, whom she never heard of to this date, Avelina is thrown into a twisted game of power, secrets, and fate. Trapped under the sinister rules of her father's killers, Matteo Augustus and Dante Romano, Avelina Salazar discovers that she is destined to be their mate, forever branded with the dark shadow of their clan's tradition. But Avelina is not one to accept her fate without a fight. As she unravels the mysteries behind her mother's death, the clan's secrets, and the true intentions of the Alphas, Avelina is forced to confront the brutal truth of her family's history and rethink her choices, what her eyes see and what her brain believes, especially when her pure blood makes the enemies chase her and danger lurks around every corner. ***** "You seem to have forgotten the rules, Avelina," Dante's voice reverberated in the dark as he stood behind me, his lips brushing against my neck, "Perhaps it's time we refresh your memory." A surge of vulnerability coursed through my veins, but I refused to succumb. My breath trembled, my palms perspired, yet with defiance in my eyes, I spat, "I don't give a fuck about your so-called rules." "Then start giving a fuck, Princess," Matteo hissed, gripping my jaw tightly and bringing his face dangerously close to mine, our lips inches apart, "Or else, you'll face the consequences." They repulsed me, yet a forbidden desire remained. "I'm not afraid." A wicked smirk adorned Dante's lips, while a sinister chuckle escaped Matteo's mouth, "Let's take you to the torture cell then. Your untouched body will make for a beautiful plaything." I drew in a quiet breath-The torture cell was no good news.

"Say it," Tenz growled, yanking her hips against the hood of his blacked-out car, his hand wrapped around her throat like a necklace made of danger. Kyoline's breath shuddered as his mouth traced her jaw, his fingers sliding under the hem of her leather skirt, teasing, threatening. "Say you're mine, or I'll make you say it with your teeth clenched and your legs shaking," he hissed, dragging his tongue along her collarbone. She smirked through the haze of lust and war. "I'm not yours, Tenz... I'm just letting you play with me until someone better comes to steal me." "Someone like who?" he spat. A cold voice answered from behind the shadows. "Like me," Isaac said. And just like that... the chaos began. --- Kyoline Diego was born of blood, betrayal, and gunfire. A mafia princess with ash in her veins and a Glock in her purse. Her childhood ended the day her father-a respected Made Man-was assassinated. Left for dead, she crawled from the ruins with nothing but vengeance and two younger siblings she'd kill for. Now eighteen and jaded, Kyoline bartends for mob rats by night, runs guns for a price, and slays in gold heels by morning. Love? It's not on the agenda. Survival is. Enter Tenz Jersey-her inked-up, lie-laced mafia beau. The man who f*cks like a god and lies like a sermon. He gives her fire, chaos, and a reason to breathe. He also gives her bruises she wears like medals and promises that vanish like smoke. She tells herself he's enough. Until Isaac. Cold. Calculating. Beautiful in a way that feels like a bullet wound. He shoves her into an unmarked SUV, claims he's NYPD, feeds her lies and cannoli-then laughs while she figures out he's actually the most lethal hitman.....

I'm born with a curse, so I never speak another word since I'm old enough to be understanding. Since my six-year-old daughter, Jada Westfield, accidentally knocks over my sick older brother, Cain Westfield, my wife, Serena Harlow, sends her to a dog-training facility immediately. Jada has gotten bitten by dogs in the past, so she's extremely terrified of them. I do everything I can to stop Serena from sending Jada there—even resorting to groveling in front of her, my forehead sticky with blood—yet Serena never spares a glance in my direction. Instead, she helps Cain up to his feet and gently pats the dust off his pants. But the moment she speaks up, her voice is glacial and ruthless. "Don't think I can't tell that Jada did this because you've been secretly grooming her to do so. You're an extremely manipulative mute, after all. Your dirty blood courses through Jada's veins as well. If I don't start teaching her a lesson at an early age, she will eventually grow up as a pathetic loser. "I'm sending her to the facility so that she can learn the rules of this world. She will learn that seniority takes precedence over everything. This also serves as a lesson for you to never harm the person you aren't supposed to engage with!" I finally find Jada, who has gotten trapped in a cage filled with a dozen rabid mutts. Her body has already been torn into pieces. I suppress the pain in my heart as I put pieces of Jada together like a jigsaw puzzle. After more than 20 years, I finally utter my first sentence. "Serena Harlow, I want you to pay the price with your blood, and I want you to lose everything you have in life."