Fathers And Daughters の小説・ストーリー

Ashley is a simple Omega, who loves her family more than anything. Ashley's parents want nothing more than to get their daughters settled and mated with their business partner and childhood friend's younger son, Damon. Damon on the other hand, rejected Ashley without even looking at her and insulted her parents. Ashley becomes furious but what makes her even more shocked is that, after three weeks she received a very shocking wedding proposal by Damon Williams himself, but why did he want to marry her, after rejecting her in very first place. Damon William a successful businessman lost his mate/wife Adira years ago. After her death, Damon became like a dead person. He got himself very busy with his work. His family wants him to move on and live his life again, but Damon knows he can't love another person. He only loves his Adira. That's why he rejects he reject Ashley. But what happens when he sees a girl who looks exactly like his late wife and even her Omega scent is the same as his Adira , is destiny playing some dirty game with him? "What's your problem, you already rejected me once, now for God shake stop stalking me. I don't want any relationship with you." Ashley screams at the Alpha male who is stalking her like a crazy lunatic. "No, I can't leave you alone and you can't reject me either, I want to marry you. You are mine only MINE." Said the Alpha male scream. After knowing the truth of Adira and Ashley face, he become even more crazy. "What the hell Damon, with all these paper's?" Damon smirk as he came near his newly weeded wife. "Welcome to my Golden Cage love."

My foster sister, Gloria Binder, and I married a pair of werewolf brothers. I married the older brother, the steady one who ran the Dixon household. She married the man who held power over the entire pack. We got pregnant in the same year. In a couple of months, they would be able to take a sample of our babies' cardiogen and use it as medicine to treat their fathers' illness. Two months before my due date, the gates of the outer villa were kicked open. The intruders beat me, fists and boots coming down hard, then forced a bowl of labor-inducing medicine down my throat. I screamed at the maid beside me to run and get my mate. But all I got back was his message. He was furious. "You said you wanted peace and quiet and insisted on staying at the secluded villa to rest. Now you're pulling something this low just to drag me over there? I don't have time to waste on you. Judy needs a few plants moved into her yard. She's delicate and can't do heavy work. I'm helping her." The medicine had already taken effect. I could feel the baby thrashing, as if it were about to tear its way out of me. I would have died from the pain if Gloria hadn't come back from gathering herbs and saved my life. She sent people to find my mate and demand justice for me. Yet, all she got was another message. "You're living just fine in the villa. Who would dare hurt you? I need to help my brother plant a few more shrubs for Judy. I don't have time for your petty drama!" Gloria was pregnant, too. After being beaten and kicked, she lost her baby. We lay in a pool of blood, holding each other. "Gloria," I whispered through tears, "I don't want to repay any debts anymore. I want to sever my bond with Lesley."

"A woman like you? No fucking way you're a virgin." "Who said virgins can't be filthy, Rocco?" DIANA SANTORO: Five years locked inside a convent. Not because I was holy. Because the family I was born into is dangerous. My name is Diana Santoro. Mafia blood. And in this world, daughters like me get hidden away until the war is over. Now my brother’s the Don. And he wants me back. The man he sent to collect me? Rocco Moretti. The most feared monster in Italy. The devil of Cosa Nostra. They say he pulls confessions out of men with his bare hands—then sleeps like a baby afterward. Three days on the road. Just us. He’s expecting some scared little nun-in-training, ready to be escorted quietly back to my gilded cage. He has no idea that the only innocent thing about me is this face. **** ROCCO MORETTI: Forty-seven men. That's how many I've killed. Tortured more than double that. Never lost a minute of sleep over any of them. So why does this girl—with her innocent eyes and that smart mouth—make me feel like I'm losing my goddamn mind around every bend of this road? Last night, at some roadside motel, she walked into my room. Ran her fingers over my tattoos, looked up at me with this smirk, and told me she wasn't wearing underwear. What the hell does she want? To destroy me? To see how far she can push before I snap? She's a virgin. Untouched. Off-limits. The one thing a man like me can never have. But when she looks at me like that—wearing that short dress, lips parted just enough—I forget who I am. I forget I'm the monster. And I start wanting, with everything in me, to be the one who ruins her. Even if it costs me my life. Even if it costs me everything.

"PAPILLON!!!" His scream ripped through the house as his fist slammed into the wall right beside my head. The impact was deafening, before I could even blink, he lunged. His hand snapped around my neck. I gasped, my body going rigid as his grip locked me in place... not tight enough to kill, but firm enough to control, to own, to make sure I couldn't move… couldn't look away from him. His eyes burned into mine... wild, furious and terrifying. "Say it again," he growled, his voice trembling with rage. "Say you like him one more time and I'll go back to him, I won't just beat him, Papillon…" His grip tightened slightly, just enough to make me swallow hard. "I'll cut his tongue out and bring it to you in a box." My heart dropped. My lips parted, but no sound came out. What… What have I gotten myself into? ~~~ After I found a secret about my mom, my dad sent me to Paris saying it was the best way to escape from Mom's cage. What I didn't expect was to meet Logan, but everyone in L'impasse des Ombres calls him Bloodbath. He wasn't the gentle, patient kind of man I had read about in books. He wasn't safe. He wasn't soft. He was danger wrapped in calm confidence. Darkness disguised as temptation. He was the kind of man mothers warned their daughters about... calm on the surface, but with something dark and merciless lurking underneath. He wasn't like me... I didn't belong to his dark world. But instead of running away, I found myself begging to feel his warm tongue against my skin. He ruined the careful, obedient girl I had always been. And the worst part was… I wanted him to. I craved him.

The mafia coalition’s family banquet had reached its liveliest point. Someone started stirring things up and steered the conversation toward the youngest Don of the Fumagalli family, Dante Fumagalli. “Dante, before you came to power, all those old Dons from the major families were falling over themselves to push their daughters at you. Was there ever one you actually wanted?” I stood half a step behind him, and my knuckles turned white around my wine glass. Dante did not answer right away. His gaze swept over me, cool and indifferent, before he turned toward Viviana Lombardi, who still held the crowd’s attention. “I wanted her.” Viviana spun around so fast that wine splashed from her glass onto her wrist. “Then why did you not come when I gave you that hotel key card all those years ago?” The calm on Dante’s face finally cracked. He frowned. “Your key card? Was that not for Enzo Ricci?” “How could it have been for Enzo?” Viviana’s eyes reddened. “He is my first cousin.” One question led to another and the truth emerged. That hotel key card had been handed to the wrong person by a Soldato. Because of that mistake, they had missed each other. Viviana burst into tears on the spot. Regret shadowed Dante’s expression. Just then, someone laughed softly. “What a coincidence. Was the key card really delivered to the wrong person, or did someone make sure it ended up in the wrong hands?” In an instant, every eye in the room turned to me. Everyone remembered me. I was the woman who used to trail after Dante Fumagalli like a lovesick fool. I turned to look at Dante and hoped he would say something for me. I hoped he would tell them we had been secretly married for five years and that he had been the one who pursued me back then. He said nothing. He did not defend me. He did not deny anything. He stared ahead in silence as if none of this had anything to do with him. In that moment, I pulled off the wedding ring I had worn for five years.