Every Quirk In Mha

What if the fearless mafia queen, reincarnated as the emperor's obsession Story... Every story have its own version in each person But what is true, what if the story owner hides the real story? The one true story

“You’re mine now,” Nero’s voice was low, rough velvet that sent chills down her spine. “No one touches what’s mine. No one even thinks about touching what he can't afford- his life.” A flicker of heat curled through Amara’s body despite herself. “Don’t kid yourself ” she shot back. “This marriage exists only because of our children.” He gave a short, dangerous laugh. “Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night whenever I hear you orgasm at the thought of me every night?” ~~~~~~~~~` Two years earlier, Amara had spent a single reckless night with Nero De Santoro — the man whispered about as the most ruthless crime lord in Italy. That night left her with more than regret; it left her with his twins Determined to keep her children safe from his violent world, she vanished without a trace, raising her daughter in the shadows. But when her children fell dangerously ill, Amara’s desperate search for help forced her to face the one man she swore she’d never see again. Nero was stunned to learn he had a daughter — and cruelly clear about his terms. If Amara wanted his support, she would have to marry him. What began as a cold-blooded arrangement soon twisted into something neither could control. Amara expected to despise him, but behind the walls of his power, she glimpsed pieces of a man she didn’t recognize — protective, haunted, almost tender. Every argument, every stolen glance, every night they shared blurred the line between hate and hunger. Until Amara uncovered a devastating secret — a connection between Nero De Santoro, her husband, and the tragedy that had destroyed her family years ago. A tragedy that had made her turn her back on her Mafia bloodline..........

Cassidy never imagined her world would collapse on an ordinary Tuesday afternoon. She came home early—just ten minutes early—because she forgot her sketchbook. Ten minutes. That was all it took to destroy everything. Because when she opened her bedroom door, she didn’t just catch her boyfriend cheating. She caught him with her mother. The betrayal hit harder than any heartbreak she’d ever read about in her romance novels. Humiliated, shaking, and unable to breathe, Cassidy did the only thing she could—she ran. Straight into the neon haze of the city’s wildest nightclub. She didn’t plan on drinking. She didn’t plan on dancing. And she definitely didn’t plan on meeting him. Dante Ashford. The dangerously handsome billionaire heir with a voice like velvet and a stare that feels like sin. He didn’t ask if she was okay—he asked her name like he was already claiming it. He touched her like he had every right. He kissed her like he’d been waiting for her his whole damn life. One shot turned into two. Her pain turned into recklessness. And one devastating night turned into the hottest mistake of her life. A one-night stand with a man whose name she never learned. Cassidy thought that would be the end of it. Just a secret she’d take to the grave. Until her mother announced she was getting married. And Cassidy came face-to-face with her new “family.” Dante—the stranger who’d had her pinned to silk sheets, whispering sinful things in her ear—is now her stepbrother. Worse? He remembers everything. Every kiss. Every moan. Every broken piece of her she tried to forget. And Dante isn’t the type of man who lets go. Not of the past. Not of secrets. And definitely not of her.

When two women have an encounter at a train station, they strike up a powerful bond which causes them to miss every train but when the last one arrives, will they continue to live their burning passion or say their last goodbyes and illustrate a forgotten love.

One mansion on the coast. One man. One woman. And something she thought could have never been. And it all started with what some might say was an ill-fated kidnapping. Every villain has a story; and his? Well, it captured her heart.

I swore vengeance long before I swore the law. The night my twin sister’s future was stolen, a promise was carved into my soul—to dismantle the empire of Alexander Stone, the ruthless leader of the Xander MC. Not with fists or bullets, but with patience, precision, and the law he thinks he’s untouchable from. Now I walk in his shadow. To him, I’m a sharp-tongued lawyer with a backbone of steel—the woman he thinks can shield him from justice. To me, he’s nothing but a target. Every word I speak, every smile I fake, every late-night meeting in smoke-filled rooms is just another thread in the trap I’m weaving around him. But vengeance has its own dangers. Somewhere in the blurred lines of loyalty and deception, I start to feel the pull of the very man I came to destroy. His voice lingers, his touch burns, and the closer I get to ending him, the closer I fall into something I can’t control. He doesn’t know my secret—yet. But when the mask falls, when he realizes the knife has been in my hands all along, it won’t just be a reckoning. It will be war. And in this war between justice and desire, I may lose more than my sister’s revenge… I may lose myself and I don't know if I'll destroy him... or if he'll destroy me first.

Divorced and remarried—I've lost count of how many times Aaron and I stepped in and out of marriage. He once treated me like something precious, but less than a year after our wedding, he asked for our first divorce. The reason was simple, Vivian was coming back. "Vivian's a public figure," he told me. "I don't want anyone thinking she's involved with a married man." That third-tier actress had nothing but her father's sacrifice to her name. He had taken a bullet for Aaron—a life for a life. And because of that, Aaron believed he owed her everything. Every time Vivian returned to the country, Aaron divorced me. And every time she left, we remarried. The first time we split, I drowned my tears in whiskey and stumbled back to his house half-drunk. The lights inside were warm. He was with her. And I stood outside, shivering through the night. The second time, I tracked his every move—restaurants, auctions, charity galas—just to "accidentally" run into him again. Later, I learned better. The moment he mentioned divorce, I would quietly pack my suitcase and disappear from his mansion. My love and humiliation kept me trapped in that endless cycle of breaking up and coming back together. But this time, when Aaron waited for me at City Hall to remarry, I never showed up.

Sofia Carson is flunking out of college, partying too hard, and one test away from losing everything. So when her friends suggest stealing the answer sheet from the hottest—and most feared—professor on campus, she takes the bait. But Professor Lucien Drake, famously known as Professor Grumpy Pants, isn’t just strict… he’s dangerously attentive. And he's been watching her. He catches her. Cornered, humiliated, and expecting punishment—he gives her a choice instead. One that’s filthy, wrong… and impossible to forget. Now Sofia is living a double life: wild party girl by day, obedient student by night. Lucien demands discipline, and she finds herself craving every forbidden touch, every teasing smirk, every wicked command. What started as a deal turns into something deeper. Something obsessive. Something neither of them are ready to admit. But secrets never stay hidden. With jealous rivals, her golden-boy crush suddenly noticing her, and Lucien’s icy ex back in the picture, the heat becomes a wildfire. And Sofia has to ask herself: Is this just lust? Or is she falling for the one man who could ruin her… forever? She was supposed to hate him. She wasn’t supposed to crave him. She definitely wasn’t supposed to fall in love. He was supposed to teach her a lesson. She never expected to want more. Spicy. Scandalous. Addictive.

Every Thanksgiving, my husband, Salvatore, brings home a showgirl from one of his clubs. He makes me kneel and serve them drinks. A lesson, he calls it, in how to please a man. This was the eighth Thanksgiving, and this time, he brought back a girl poured into a tight leather dress. "She doesn't have any decent jewelry," Salvatore announced. "Give her your heirloom diamond ring. Your grandmother's pearl earrings, too. And take off that silk choker for her." He smirked. "And listen, she's young, doesn't know the rules. You'll have to show her the ropes. Especially how to handle a man in bed." Every member of the Genovese family was watching, waiting for my humiliation. I didn't disappoint. I opened my mouth and asked Salvatore for a divorce. Salvatore let out a sharp, ugly laugh, his eyes full of contempt. "Francesca, you pull this same shit every time," he jeered. "Your act is pathetic. Even more dramatic than your performance in bed." He leaned in. "You really want to divorce me? Fine. I'll give you five million in cash if you actually walk out that door." The living room erupted in laughter. They all said I was playing hard to get, that I didn't know my place. But they didn't know. This was the 88th time I had asked for a divorce, and it was the first time I truly meant it.

Nominal marriage with some rules: no entangling. Everything is only business. Not being in love. It's only a one-year agreement, so the rules shouldn't be difficult to follow, should they? Except fate still has a way of ruining every best plan...