Fairytail Lounge Nyc

In the VIP lounge of an underground casino, Maeve, the Falcone family's princess, had been plied with too much hard liquor. Fueled by alcohol, someone goaded her into revealing the most shameless thing she'd ever done to win over the Don. She swirled her glass, pointed at me dealing cards behind the table, and threw her head back with a laugh. "Seven years ago, when Declan was in a coma after a shootout, I took his private phone. And I deleted the distress message that bitch sent him. Every last trace of it. Then I replied in his name: You're a burden. Go die." "You'll never guess what happened next. That idiot stood outside the safe house all night in a downpour, like a stray dog. I almost died laughing…" The room erupted in crude laughter. Only the man enthroned at the head of the table remained silent. The crystal whiskey glass in his hand shattered with a sharp crack. Blood mixed with the amber liquor, trickling over the veins on the back of his hand before dripping onto the carpet. His murderous, bloodshot eyes were locked on me. I calmly dealt the last hole card in front of him and offered a clean, white silk handkerchief. "Don Declan, you should wipe your hand. Blood on the felt is bad luck." After all, some stains never wash out.

To protect my boyfriend, Nico, the illegitimate son of our allies, the Moretti family, from their internal power struggles, I agreed to leave New York with him. But on the eve of my adoptive father, the Don of the Falcone family, signing our transfer orders, he backed out. Through the hidden door of the cigar lounge, I heard his right-hand man tease him: "So you really kept up that act for three months just to get rid of the princess?" "But she's your childhood sweetheart. You really have the heart to some miserable fishing village in the Baltics all by herself?" Nico's voice was nonchalant. "It's just an outpost across the pond. How far can it be?" "Scarlett is too controlling. If I don't get her out of the picture, how am I supposed to get any breathing room? Besides, I need to put Chloe at ease." I stood behind that hidden door for a long time that night, my grip on the doorknob tightening until my knuckles were white, before I finally let go. I turned and walked away, pulling out my tablet to change my flight plan. I changed the destination from the official plan of that desolate Baltic outpost to a seat at the High Table in Sicily, which is the absolute center of old-world Mafia power. Everyone seemed to have forgotten. I am the princess of the Falcone family. And he is nothing but filth from the gutter. We were never a match.

I’d been in love with Cassian Cross—my brother’s best friend, the one and only mafia boss in the NYC—for as long as I could remember. On the night of my twentieth birthday, my brother promised me a surprise. I didn’t expect that surprise to be a very drunk, very kissable Cassian. One reckless night. One baby boy. Cassian agreed to marry me after giving birth. But the day I gave birth to Leo, Cassian said nothing. He just packed up and vanished to France for nearly five years. Then he returned with Alessia. His first love. And when she saw Leo and me, she ran away and disappeared. After that, Cassian never left my side. Like he was trying to be the man I needed all along, that we were finally going to have our chance. But fairytales are lies wrapped in pretty paper. On Leo’s sixth birthday, we were driving to dinner. The brakes failed. The car spun onto the highway, flames licking at the engine. Cassian got out. And then he locked the door. “If it weren’t for you, Alessia would still be by my side. Now? It’s your turn to suffer.” It wasn’t until that moment I understood—Cassian had never loved me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at my twenties birthday. Cassian was in my bed, exactly where I’d left him in the past. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I ran. And on my way out, I made the call I should’ve made the first time. To Alessia.

Plot Summary: ‘…well, for starters, I think he shouldn’t be here, in my apartment, making me all uncomfortable and squirmy. And I also think he shouldn’t be talking about Ciara’s wedding. Isn’t there some kind of unwritten rule where you should never talk about your ex’s marriage?...’ *** When Ryan Shelby, the hot talk of NYC appears on Tiara James-Lemptons’ doorstep, there is only one thought in her mind. Flight. He is hot, he is dark, he is single – finally –, but he is danger. Like the flame that draws the moth, he burns, and when he makes an offer for her to be his fake girlfriend, like the moth to the flame, she finds it hard to resist. She isn’t the only one doing the resisting, however. Ryan is drawn to Tiara, to the girl that has always been on the side. The girl that has somehow morphed from that lanky college girl to the curvy but slender 23-year old, staring back at him with wide eyes and a luscious mouth. He had always had a thing for her, right from college, it was what brought the fight to his relationship with Ciara almost regularly. But up till now, he has always kept his feelings – and dick – in check. Does he want revenge on Ciara Lemptons? Or does he just want to find a way to deal with his growing feelings for Tiara? And how on earth could he prove to her that he isn’t some two-faced jerk that could play both sisters?

I am the wife of the capital city’s esteemed tycoon. We were married in secret for three years. At the celebratory banquet, I was about to make our relationship public. However, his first love, Juvelia Shaw, stumbled into the hall clutching her torn collar. “Edwin, save me! Peri Sanders brought along her penniless brother. He just forced a kiss on me in the lounge! “He says he’s your brother-in-law. If I want to get into the Gough family, I have to please him.... Argh! I have been defiled!” The room fell deathly silent before erupting into a chorus of finger-pointing and curses. They accused me of forcing my brother to assault the esteemed tycoon’s woman just to secure his favor. Edwin Gough’s eyes blazed crimson. He ripped off his coat and wrapped it tightly around Juvelia. Then, he flung a glass of red wine at my face. Gritting his teeth, he glared at me. “Peri, bring out that beast of a brother of yours!” “Since his mouth is so vile, let’s pull out his teeth and cut his tongue off to feed the dogs! Otherwise, I’ll make the entire Sanders family pay with their lives!” Amidst the crowd’s looks of contempt and disgust, I burst into laughter. My brother had long since lost his voice. Three years ago, in a fire, he had inhaled excessive smoke while saving Edwin, which had destroyed his vocal cords. His tongue was gone too.

In my previous life, I had married Luca Corleone, the most handsome Underboss in Cisilia. Everyone was envious of me. They all claimed that I became one of the most noble women in the country. My twin sister, Lia Rossi, went mad with jealousy. She pushed me down the stairs afterward. When I was at my weakest point due to a miscarriage, she used a pillow to smother me to death. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day the family meeting on the upcoming marriage alliance is held. Upon returning to the lounge, I witness Lia straddling Luca, clearly engaging in physical intimacy with him. Her legs are spread widely as her body rocks with every powerful thrust. "You came far too late, Elvira." Lia pants heavily while shooting me a smug look. "I'm the woman Luca loves now. See, we're even coupling with each other. In this lifetime, I shall be the one marrying him!" Everyone looks at me, waiting for me to back off from this relationship while suffering from a mental breakdown. But I just chuckle in return. Oh, my dear Lia… All she knows is that Luca is young, handsome, and insanely wealthy. But what she doesn't know is that he has a secret room tucked away in his bedroom that's completely filled with toys and tools meant to torture women. At the same time, he also plans to share her with the rest of his subordinates.

Alya has been living in her cocoon since forever that stepping into NYC calls for an adventure. Or rather, to curb her wandering mind of what it feels like to have something you've been dreaming of- married to someone who has all the criteria you've seen only in movies. She leaves her comfort zone and dives into a life that has been scripted since day one. It can be two things, either a liberating experience to be someone who doesn't have to think much and just live the way it's been laid out, or to feel suffocated by how much scripted and planned everything is. Yummy DILF has been living his life in pretence. But if money can buy imagination who are we to judge him on that? He didn't exactly ask for our money to live that way, so leave the judgement by the door and come in for a read if you feel like you're open to this absurd pretence. *** "I need you to come for me." He orders in a stern tone after I've let out all sorts of noise while he tongue-fucked me. It finally dawns on me that I'm being a desperate bitch I never wanted to be when I first accepted this job. What have I become? "Come for me, B." His finger is pressing me into following his order to which I reluctantly shake on his mouth. As quiet as it began, it ends in the same way as he helps me with my thong and pulls down my dress to its original state. Stepping in my view he smiles at me smugly, "See, being my wife isn't always so difficult."

The Hook When a desperate woman seeking survival accidentally spills wine on the ruthless billionaire who saved her life fifteen years ago, she has no idea that the childhood pinky promise buried in her diary is about to become her adult reality. The Desperate Heroine Elena Marquez (25) carries the psychological scars of a childhood kidnapping. Her deepest secret is a vow of marriage made to the boy who risked everything for her. Fifteen years later, Elena is drowning in debt, responsible for her younger brother, Lucas, and facing an impossible ultimatum from her hostile aunt. Her prestigious degree is useless against corporate harassment, forcing her into the humiliating service industry to survive. The Ruthless Billionaire Damien Black (27) is the cold, arrogant Chairman of Black Enterprises. Beneath his impenetrable façade, he is consumed by trauma and a secret: he never forgot the kidnapping or the little girl he swore to protect. For fifteen years, while feigning amnesia to shield his unstable older brother, Daniel (30), Damien has secretly searched for Elena, driven by the need to fulfill his youthful vow. The Collision Elena’s desperation leads her to a serving job at an exclusive lounge owned by Damien's company. When a nervous slip ruins his cuff, Damien instantly recognizes the frightened girl he lost. To control her and keep her close, Damien fires Elena immediately. Yet, the very next day, Elena receives an unsolicited, high-paying job offer from Black Enterprises. Now trapped in the ruthless billionaire's orbit, Elena must navigate her terrifying new reality, unaware that the cold man ordering her around is the same boy who promised her everything.

My boyfriend was crippled when he saved me, while his adoptive sister suffered from heart failure after protecting us from misfortune. She had to depend on the expensive imported medicines to sustain life. To pay for their treatment, I sold myself as a lifecasting model on the black market. Not only were my hands and feet coated in the heated silicon, but I also needed to endure strangers touching me without flinching. I needed to pay if the replica was damaged. I begged through my tears, only to receive a few slaps to my face in return. They scolded, "You signed up for this. Don't act innocent now." Humiliated, exhausted, and aching, I still took the money straight to the hospital to buy medicine for his sister. When I passed by the VIP lounge, I heard a familiar laughter. "Chris, this is the 998th test, isn't it? Are you really marrying her once she passes the 999th test?" With a slight frown, Christopher answered, "Yeah. Although testing her is a family tradition, and they're having you to supervise, don't overdo it. I won't have another bride." I froze. Every sacrifice. Every humiliation. Every bit of pain I had endured—it had all been a test. A game to see whether I was worthy of marrying him. Staring at my bruised reflection in the fire-resistant glass, I let out a sudden chuckle. Then, with trembling hands, I turned on the old phone I hadn't touched in two years. I felt tears roll down my cheeks when I told the other person on the line, "Declan, take me home. I regret everything."

I've been married to billionaire CEO Christopher Hayes for two years, and only now does my ex, Benjamin Clarke, decide to propose. The rumble of engines echoes as a fleet of black trucks lines up neatly outside my private estate. The drivers unload box after box of gifts—luxury watches, fine jewelry, couture gowns, and even a grand piano. Standing proudly among the shower of rose petals, he announces, "Sienna, I told you—the only reason I had a child with my sister-in-law was because my older brother died in an accident, and she wanted to keep our family's bloodline alive. "The baby just turned a month old. I've fulfilled my promise to her, and now I've come to marry you!" I lounge in the heated pool, having just finished my postpartum recovery exercises, and I can't even be bothered to look at him. He knits his brows, and his tone turns patronizing. "I know you're upset, but you're the heiress of the Grant family; you have everything you could ever want! Why can't you show a little compassion for a widow who just lost her husband? "I know it was selfish of me to make you wait for two years, but I'm back now! Our wedding will be held in three days. I can tell you still care about me. If not, why would you greet me in such a revealing bikini?" His overconfidence makes me chuckle. "Guards, get him out of here! I'm trying to swim here." What a joke. I've just welcomed the heir of Hayes Group into the world, and Christopher has been insisting that I take our baby home to visit my parents. Yet, somehow, I end up running into this idiot.