Flames Draw

Donna Sofia Marino's birthday is held on Valentine's Day. When Francesco Rossi, the Underboss of the Costa family, announces the news on behalf of Don Enzo Costa, everyone in the family is very happy. Well, everyone but me. As expected, Francesco is quick to add, "Someone needs to guard the headquarters. Camilla, you'll be the one in charge of this task." "What the Underboss means is that you don't really carry out any missions in your daily life. Besides, you have tons of spare time anyway. This time, you are to guard the headquarters so that you can deal with any emergencies that might arise." I just smirk sarcastically. The truth is, I'm always the one dealing with the most dangerous matters concerning the Costa family. The transactions of the firearms worth hundreds of millions of dollars are successfully carried out thanks to the plan I've spent countless sleepless nights perfecting. When a crossfire breaks out, I'm always on the frontlines, fighting for the family's glory despite getting injured. While I'm given the title as the executive director, I'm never given any actual power. In truth, my standing is lower than that of a soldato. I'm always the one carrying out the hardest, the most menial, not to mention the most dangerous tasks. But every time credit is given, it's never given to me. I've been enduring this injustice for five long years. This time, I no longer want to keep enduring anymore. With a smile on my face, I stand up from my seat. "Alright then, Underboss Rossi. I shall guard the headquarters. But this will be the last time I ever do this. After this task is completed, I will officially leave the Costa family once and for all."

At the family meeting, my mafia Don husband spared his secretary one glance. I turned and walked away, canceled our wedding anniversary celebration, and decided I was done with him. I signed my name on the divorce papers I had prepared long ago. When Matteo Santoro saw the agreement, he called me at once, his voice tight with restrained anger. "What are you trying to pull this time? Is this really because I looked at Elena?" "Yes," I said. "Because you looked at her."

I woke in the middle of the night to my Don husband murmuring in his sleep. “Juno, be good. Tomorrow I’ll buy you and Mamma a new house.” My eyes flew open. Juno? That was the name I’d always planned for a purebred Ceylon cat I dreamed of owning, but I’d never gotten one because of my pet fur allergy. And a new house? Could this just be a coincidence? I shook him lightly. “What did you just say?” He frowned and mumbled coarsely, “Had a nightmare. Dreamt of a shootout.” I didn’t press further. In the darkness, I reached for his phone and silently opened his messages.

As the flames engulfed my body in the underground warehouse, I used the last of my strength to call my brother, the new Don of the Moretti family. Just as I was about to draw my last breath, Lorenzo finally answered, his voice as cold as the Sicilian winter wind. "Isabella, what the hell are you up to now?" "Brother, save me…" My voice was barely a whisper, but he cut me off without a hint of mercy. "Can't you go one day without causing trouble?" "Liliana's debutante dinner is next week. If you don't show up, I'll drag you back here myself." He hung up without a second thought, completely oblivious to the desperation in my voice. Despair mingled with the searing agony that wracked my body as the flames danced higher, and I couldn't hold on any longer. As I closed my eyes, tears still trickled from their corners. You won't have to drag me back, my brother. I'm never coming back.

Ever since my mom gave birth to her second child, everything in the household is tied to drawing lots. Everyone has to draw lots in order to decide whose favorite food will be served for each meal. We have to draw lots to see who among us gets a hug from our parents. Every time, I end up drawing the short end of the stick, so everyone automatically assumes that my younger sister, Anabelle Madden, gets the better lot. She easily reaps my parents' love without having to do anything at all. Whenever I feel like crying because of the injustice, Mom will scold me instantly. "I bought the lottery box because I was worried that you might feel upset about this. I'm doing this just to be fair to both of you. "If you want something, you have to be the one deciding who gets what. Your father and I won't interfere with your decision at all. Since you can't draw the better lot, that just means you have bad luck." Hence, I keep practicing my lot-drawing skills every day, hoping that I can eventually draw the better lot in order to obtain my parents' love. But for ten years, I never get to draw the better lot. Not even once. On my birthday, Anabelle wants to go to the amusement park, so Mom tells us to draw lots once again. I secretly glue two short lots together before giving it to Mom in an attempt to get her to stay with me. Instead, she slaps me and berates me for being a disobedient child who cheats in lot-drawing. Then, she leaves the house with Anabelle. When I fall to the floor, I feel the short sticks piercing through my neck.

Every Christmas Eve, the heir of the Marco mafia family—Adrian Marco, must follow the family tradition: Draw a name to decide whether he’s allowed to marry me. Because I, Irene Cast, am not mafia-born. Unless he draws the slip with my name on it, he can’t take me as his wife. For four years, Adrian has drawn four times. And not once did he draw my name. I always thought he fought with his family because of me— that he was willing to risk losing his position as the Don, just to choose me. Every time he failed, he held me so tightly and whispered, “It’s okay. There’s always next year.” And I loved him so much it hurt. Hurt enough that I was willing to wait, year after year. This year, I told myself: If he still doesn’t draw my name… I’ll secretly switch the result. I sneaked to the door of Adrian’s study, and heard his younger brother ask: “Don… every year you do draw Irene's name. Why do you pretend you didn’t? Is it because you still can’t let Sera go?” But he simply said, in a flat voice, “Sera needs me for something urgent. Do what you always do: swap Irene’s name for a blank one.” He walked out without looking back. Instead of swapping, he tossed the blank slip into the trash, left the one with my name on the table, and hurried after Adrian. I went inside, picked up the blank slip from the trash, and replaced the one with my name. Watching my own name fall into the garbage. Adrian…I don’t want to wait and marry you anymore. I’ll grant you your choice.

In a world engulfed in blazing desires and searing conflicts, Rachel becomes a pawn in the hands of her ruthless father, sold to the fiery Alpha King, Brandon. Bound by marriage but consumed by despair, Rachel's world ignites with unexpected flames when she discovers her pregnancy. Determined to escape Brandon's fiery grip, she flees Pack Manowi, knowing she is just a breeding tool to him—a mere flicker in his blazing ambitions. Months later, as Brandon's regret scorches his soul, he realizes the inferno of memories with Rachel has sparked a love he cannot extinguish. Desperate to reclaim what he lost, he searches relentlessly, flames of remorse licking at his every step. It is under the scorching gaze of the full moon that fate fans the flames of their reunion. But as the embers of their love smolder, a new inferno rises. Kennedy, a captivating Alpha intertwined with Rachel's destiny, emerges from the flames, declaring his claim over her. "Rachel, I'm here to claim you as my mate!" his voice crackles with intensity, promising a different kind of blaze. Defying the scorching challenge, Brandon's voice cuts through the air, a defiant inferno in its own right. "No, Rachel! I am your mate. Not him! You're my fate!" His fiery determination reveals a depth of love that can't be extinguished.

Three years ago they got married with love in their hearts and promises on their lips. They were the perfect couple until everything slowly withered away. Aurora would have never imagined that her once loving husband, Adrian, would hand her divorce papers with no reason and walk away without a second thought. Eventually, she had to move on. Three years later, she is wiser, and free. But then Adrian returns, pleading for a chance to make things better, he wants to fix what he broke. Unfortunately, she isn’t the same woman who once waited for him. She was adamant on not letting him draw scars on her stars again, but he was persistent to draw stars by the scars he left. She tells him “the damage is too deep to mend.” He tells her “Don’t tell me it's too deep. Tell me what it'll take to make it right again, because I’d rather die trying to fix us than live without you.”

As Jason and I try to stay one step ahead of the Marching Tides and their nefarious associates, we draw ever closer to the shocking truth of who the mastermind behind the Marching Tides really is. Something tells me I’ll regret learning the answers at the end of my journey.©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

Jackson is an heir to the fortune built on the suffering of enslaved werewolves. Angry at the injustice of it all, he has no choice but to play along with his father's wishes and bend to the society's pressure. Until one day he is ordered to purchase a werewolf 'worthy of standing by his side' at the market. So, maybe he obeyed his father's wishes, but to him it's the first step in his one-man rebellion, a spark that will kindle the flames, when he chooses a werewolf who is needier than the rest. Now Jackson must stoke those flames, while nurturing the traumatized wolf to health, before the world crushes his soul for good. Check out the artwork from chapter ‘Date’ on my Instagram (willowwrites1994) here - https://www.instagram.com/p/CIgP2PQFF8W/