Fading Echoes 소설 & 이야기

Sequel of 'Set Me Free', hope everyone enjoys reading this book as much as they liked the previous one. “What is your name?” A deep voice of a man echoes throughout the poorly lit room. Daniel, who is cuffed to a white medical bed, can barely see anything. Small beads of sweat are pooling on his forehead due to the humidity and hot temperature of the room. His blurry vision keeps on roaming around the trying to find the one he has been looking for forever. Isabelle, the only reason he is holding on, all this pain he is enduring just so that he could see her once he gets out of this place. “What is your name?!” The man now loses his patience and brings up the electrodes his temples and gives him a shock. Daniel screams and throws his legs around and pulls on his wrists hard but it doesn’t work. The man keeps on holding the electrodes to his temples to make him suffer more and more importantly to damage his memories of her. But little did he know the only thing that is keeping Daniel alive is the hope of meeting Isabelle one day. “Do you know her?” The man holds up a photo of Isabelle in front of his face and stops the shocks. “Yes, she is my Isabelle.” A small smile appears on his lips while his eyes close shut.

Amara Wilson's life was a silent prison under her stepfather's abuse. Driven by greed and debt, he sells her into a transactional marriage with the formidable Italian Mafia boss, Emiliano Valenti. For Emiliano, cold and scarred by betrayal, Amara is a mere contractual solution—a means to an heir, with a strict expectation of obligation, not love. Amara accepts her fate, hiding the secret of her brutal past and the bruises beneath her elegant new facade. ​The silence breaks when Emiliano spots a fading handprint on her neck. This tiny mark ignites a furious, unexpected protectiveness, clashing with his ingrained cynicism. His suspicion leads him to task his right-hand man, Matteo, with an investigation into the Wilson family. Matteo uncovers a shocking web of manipulation, violence, and treachery surrounding Amara’s stolen inheritance and her father’s suspicious death. As Emiliano learns the full extent of her stepfather's cruelty, his indifference transforms into a burning need for justice and vengeance. ​Forced into shared quarters, the terrified Amara finds unexpected solace in Emiliano's demanding presence, even waking up safe in his arms. Emiliano, battling the ghosts of his past, struggles with the confusing pull he feels toward his quiet, resilient wife, determined to become the protector she desperately needs. As their opulent world clashes with Amara's dark secrets, their transactional arrangement begins to unravel. Can a marriage born of debt and fear ignite a slow, consuming love strong enough to withstand the violent path of retribution? This is a story of healing, hidden strength, and a powerful Mafia boss who finds the greatest treasure in the heart of the woman he bought.

I stood in the shadows, the scent of pine and frost heavy in the air, watching my mate, Ethan, smile—truly smile—for the first time in years. But not at me. At her. My cousin, Isla. His first love. She sat beside him, warm and glowing, with our pups, Lucas and Mia, curled up against her like she was their real mother. They were laughing, sharing bites of ice-cream cake, the kind Lucas once said made his stomach hurt. I was never meant to be here. I wasn't his choice. He didn't fall in love with me—he was assigned to me. To him, our bond was never about love. It was a political arrangement—an alliance between two packs: his power, my father’s ambition. A tie forged not by hearts, but by bloodlines and borders. He never touched me unless required. He never looked at me like I was his Luna. In that moment, as their laughter echoed under the full moon, I felt the mate bond falter—thin, fading, like breath in winter. And I knew. I had played my part long enough. So I turned away. It was time to severe the bond that was never truly mine. But when he sensed I was really leaving, when the tether between us began to snap, he broke. Dropped to his knees, clutching the pups like lifelines, his voice raw. "Please," he whispered, "don't leave me." Even the pups cried, reaching for me with shaking hands. "Mom, we’re sorry… We didn't mean it. Please don't go."

I was three months pregnant when the car crash happened. In those final moments of fading consciousness, I frantically dialed Damian’s private, encrypted line—the one meant only for emergencies. He never picked up. By the time I was rushed into surgery, I received a crushing blow: Damian had forcibly reassigned my lead private physician to the South District. He needed the best doctor to treat his childhood sweetheart, Evelyn, who had just been widowed. When I finally drifted awake through a haze of agony, my trembling fingers swiped open Instagram. I saw Evelyn’s latest post: “I knew that no matter the distance or the time, Damian would move heaven and earth to reach me. He even brought his Chief Physician just to help me heal from my grief.” In the accompanying photo, Damian—a man known for his cold, lethal eyes—was gazing at the woman beside him with a tenderness I hadn't seen in years. While I was clawing my way back from the brink of death, fighting to save our child, my husband was playing protector to another pregnant woman. A hollow, self-deprecating laugh escaped my lips. Without a second thought, I slid the wedding band off my ring finger. I opened my inbox and hit "Confirm" on the invitation from the world’s most elite International Finance Institute. If Evelyn is all he cares about, I’ll give them my blessing. In seven days, I will vanish from his world forever—and I’m taking my baby with me.

It is the third year of my marriage when the video of my bodyguard, Julian Sutherland, holding an umbrella over me in a downpour goes viral. Overnight, the internet becomes obsessed with the "Icy Protector and his Forbidden Heiress." Netizens are relentless; they dig through the archives until they unearth a ten-year-old clip. In the video, a girl was holding a pair of high-heeled shoes while sprinting through the Folander airport. My friend teased, "No way, Ms. Serina Brown. Are you really flying back home to confess to that poor man? What could you possibly see in him?" The camera shakes, capturing my youthful face. I was just a reckless 20-year-old. "I love Julian. I love everything about him." That night, after seeing the video, Julian loses his composure and bursts into my room. "I didn't know you loved me back then. I thought… I thought… God, it was never supposed to end like this." I pull my coat around me and stand rooted on the spot, remaining silent. Suddenly, a mocking laugh echoes from behind me. Someone places their hand firmly on my waist and says, "Are you trying to reminisce about your love with my wife right in front of me? Do I look dead to you?"

Many parts of the story has mature scenes. Read at your discretion. "Your pussy is such a slut, little one." His deep baritone echoes as he trace a wet line through my clit. "Yes, yes." I let out, my hips squirming as I cling to him. My professor. “So…slimy with juices. My fingers ain’t even inside yet.” I swallow hard at his words, my face flushing red as my hunger grows. “Tell me, little one. How many fingers do you want inside you?” “Two. Please give me…two, professor.” Is all I manage to say as he thrust two fingers inside me and immediately his eyes changed. ___ One minute Rain was nursing her heartbreak with several shots. The next she finds herself in an alley with a hot stranger. It was a long night of moans, thrust and need. The following morning Rain finds out the hot stranger from the previous night is her new professor. He's larger than life. One look at him shows he's power personified but there's this disturbing secret about him. Yet Rain is so much attracted she can't resist. How long will it take her to figure out she's just a bait in a plot for revenge?

“You should end things with him.” A husky deep voice echoes from the darkness. I freeze in place, his thick Russian accent sent shivers down my spine. I could only make out his large form from the dim lights of the smoking area. “H-how long have you been standing there?” I shivered, not from the cold but from an unsettling feeling. He chuckles richly causing my heart rate to quicken as I watch a small flicker of light before smoke puffs out into the air. “Go inside, krasotka it’s too cold for that little dress of yours...” ******** Josephine Beaumont would’ve never imagined that working as a personal nurse for a wealthy French businessman would entangle her into a deadly web of mafia rivalries. Struggling with financial issues and a toxic relationship, she catches the attention of the dangerous and ruthless Russian pakhan, Sasha Romanov and a deep dark obsession brews takes root in his heart. He stalks her every move with burning desire and manipulates their meeting in the pretense of fate, pulling her into the dangerous dark world of the mafia. Delve into this dark, steamy mafia romance filled with obsession, power, and high-stakes danger, BRATVA'S OBSESSION will leave you breathless and craving more.

He didn’t respond with words: he responded with his body. Drawing back slightly, he lined up the head of his cock and gave a small, careful thrust. She stiffened and he paused. “Babe?” He moved his hand under her curvy ass, supporting her. “You OK?” She nodded, already breathless. “You feel so damn good.” “Oh, fuck,” he groaned as she rotated her hips, taking him deeper. “Ditto, angel.” That was the end of coherent conversation between them. **** This is the final book in the 'Fighting For Love' series, and happily-ever-afters don’t come easy. Mia and Nick fight to rebuild intimacy after Nick’s devastating amputation... and to survive the vulnerability it demands. Katie and Adam face infertility and the brutal truth of how childhood trauma still echoes into adulthood. Reena and Mitch emerge from trial victorious, only to confront the responsibility – and power – of a life-changing judgment. Maggie is drowning in grief, and Joe is determined to prove that redemption isn’t just a promise, but a permanent change. Four couples. Eight battered hearts. Too many fears, scars, and second chances to count. Everything that can go wrong threatens to. But this time, love doesn’t back down. Because happily-ever-after isn’t given. It’s fought for.

~~~ "How many punishments do you have pending, Lucienne?” Immediately the word punishment left his ears, I turned hot, my tongue went numb, my throat became dry, my hands trembled and very became sweaty. "Answer me!" He demanded and I flinched, my gaze now directed to the ground. "S-seventeen," I stammered, my tears and liquid from the different things hurdled at me mixing and landing on the soil. "So this makes it eighteen?” he asked and I forced myself to nod. He dished out some orders to the pack members before turning to me. "Then let's get this started. Your kneels must not leave the ground till we get to our destination. And no, it's not part of your eighteen punishments. Let's go!" ~~~~ Haunted by a past filled with pain and betrayal, Lucienne bears the scars of a life marred by tragedy. Tangled in the clutches of a possessive mate, who constantly makes sure happiness is far from her, she battles not only the physical wounds but the emotional turmoil from years ago. As she tries to escape this painful life, will Lucienne find the strength to embrace love and happiness, or will the echoes of her history shatter the remnants of the once-happy girl she used to be and make her a lone wolf for life?

In the Valenti Family, you're born with a chip. It's fused into the bio-watch on your wrist, its digital face counting down every second you have left to live. Everyone could see the numbers ticking down on my twin sister's watch. And on mine. They all knew she would die on our 18th birthday. So Vivian became the untouchable princess of our brutal world. Every diamond-stitched gown was hers. The rarest jewels were hers. Even our father's last shred of humanity was hers. That single sliver of warmth he showed only after his gun was holstered. I used to pity her. Her time was running out. But God, I envied her. She had everything I never did: our parents' love. Then, the night of her 18th birthday party. My parents worried I'd make a scene. That I'd piss off the Don of an allied Family. So they locked me in the cellar. Damp. Cold. While a deadly fever burned through me. I pounded on the heavy oak door, my voice cracking. "Mamma, please! Let me out! I'm burning up. My head is splitting open…" Outside, my mother's voice was a steel trap. "Enough, Sienna! Today is your sister’s 18th birthday. Her last day alive! Stop the theatrics! Can't you suffer in silence for the Family's honor?" "But I'm really sick..." Her footsteps clicked away, fading into nothing. Then the darkness swallowed me whole. And on my wrist, the bio-watch was flashing a critical alert. CRITICAL ALERT: Vital signs mismatch. Paired chip data incompatible. Please verify user.