Novel & Cerita Gacha Table

“Ten Million," someone shouted from the audience again and Isabel's heart picked its speed. "Twenty-five Million!" A dark voice sounded through the auction room followed by a thick silence. Tears leaked from Isabel's eyes as she heard the auctioneer tapping the hammer against the wooden board. "Anyone else for this virgin beauty?" “Twenty-five million and the beauty is sold at table number twenty-five. None other than the most eligible and alluring billionaire of the country, Viso D'angelo!" Shockingly she met his eyes and her entire existence stilled. How come, the man whose existence and eminence stirs the souls of people, becomes her owner? Not to forget He was the mysterious man whom she had been looking for years for her revenge. BONKERS This is the term they whispered about him all over the country but no one is courageous enough to mouth off this name to anyone. He emanates power, wealth and the baggage of illicit deeds. He rules Italy with his puissant wings spread around. The most potent weapon He has is, Himself. VISO D'ANGELO. But Everything falls apart When a certain woman comes into his emotionless, sinfulband immoral life and makes him accustomed to the life He never dreamt to resonate ever. What if She powerfully socks up his essence and leaves him with nothing but a dry well? Would He ever realize what He did to her and himself? Well, He is not someone who cries over something. He will go to every extent to get what He wants. He will use every fucking dense way to fulfill his Dark dry well with her Nector. Because Innocent Beauty caught the eyes of a Twisted Beast and it was the start of their Chaotic Love Story..

As I turn to march out of the room, my feet stop and my breath hitches. "Bryanna. Why…” I whip back around and glare at them. "You aren't to use that name in public. Only when we are in private and alone.” Jacob flashes me a crooked smile. His eyes sparkle as he waves his finger around in the air. “We are alone. It is only us three in here.” He rests his arm on the table and gives me a cheesy grin, almost daring me to slap it off him. His t-shirt stretches tight against his muscular chest and accents his well-defined muscles. He has a true alpha body. The sparkle in his light brown eyes shimmers as he leans forward. In a deep, husky voice, he adds, “We know all your secrets. Plus, we can see your true self. The one nobody else can see because of the magic spell. Should I go on?” My heartbeat echoes in my ears as I stumble forward. How could he act like this? Bryanna, the heir to her pack, is forced into a contract relationship right before her eighteenth birthday which her father claims to be the best for both her and the pack. However, as she gets older, she soon realizes the contract relationship may not be the best choice for her, but it was a great choice for her father. When Bryanna and the contract are on the verge of falling apart, she faces a choice only she can make. Does she fight for the mate she can't detect at the risk of her secret coming out? Or does she sacrifice her happiness for the pack and her father's wishes while also keeping her secret buried?

"Onyx, remove your hand. If you continue to touch, you will lose." He chuckled as she exhaled "The condition was to not give in and fuck, Ophelia. I'm merely touching!" As his fingers returned to their former position, she forced herself to relax. She cursed herself in her head for setting the bar at fuck. When his fingers worked circles around her clit, she nearly died on the spot. As the moist fabric glided over her sensitive area, her release became more urgent, and she regulated her breathing as he quickened his speed. His gaze never left hers, as he watched the ecstasy wash over her face, she was growing desperate for release at this point and could just beg. "You simply have to ask, Ophelia, and I'll give you the release you want!" As her name flowed off his tongue, she shivered. "No!" Her voice was clipped, strained even. "Are you certain? Imagine how splendid it would feel when you cum all over my finger here under this table and when I fill your pussy after dinner. Raw and hard, just how you like it." Onyx Reighs is perhaps one of the finest Chief executives in town. He was respected by his subordinates and desired by females since he possessed every excellent precision a man should have as a leader. But by the end of the night, he was the most notorious player. To him, the purpose of life was to work hard and enjoy life to the fullest. No woman could ever resist his enchantments, and he hadn't expected to know the word "rejected" until she came to fly his bird. What will happened when the lady who rejected him turned out to be his soulmate?

Dash is no stranger to pain, but he learned from a young age to conceal it from the world. He grew up watching his parents fight, his mother crying herself to sleep while his father drowned himself in booze. That’s not the life he wants for himself. Dash swore off women right there and then, but growing up, his hormones played a significant part in turning him into a man-.  Dash is a single billionaire with a gigantic dark secret. He is the Underboss of the biggest Mafia in New York City. Dash likes to sleep around, and rarely sleeps with the same girl twice, but his sense of humor and his charismatic smile make every girl bow at his will until he meets the only girl who won’t look twice at him.  Grace is Dash’s polar opposite, but opposites attract and Dash can’t stop thinking about the girl he saved the night he covered his twin brother’s . The girl who was dancing on the table trying to strip her clothes, and ended up in his arms. The same girl that emptied her stomach all down his new leather jacket.  Getting to know Grace and trying to seduce her will be Dash’s biggest challenge, bigger than taking down the Italian Mob that is threatening their power in New York. How serious will Dash be about Grace when he sees a target on her back? Will he be able to put her above everything and everyone, or will go back to his old self not caring about anyone else? This is the second book of The Legacies Series. You can read this book as a stand-alone, but for better comprehension, it is advisable to read the first book of the series. “The Reaper CEO” 

"No! I will never be your mate!" Ariel screamed, swiftly raising her gun and aiming straight at the heart of Elijah Jaeger, the Werewolf King. “You’re mine, Ariel,” he murmured with a possessive voice as he pressed me into the table, I looked up at him to see him placing the tip of the gun in front of my vagina. "What?!" My pupils widened. He was going to **** me with a gun?! I was shaking all over, and I started to back away in fear. "No, please. No..." I begged, crying. *** In the year 2200, humanity exists as slaves under werewolf rule, with humans ranked even lower than omegas, subjected to severe abuse daily. Ariel lives within werewolf-controlled territory. Smart and resilient, she wakes up each day with one burning desire—to shoot a werewolf in the heart with a weapon of her own design. Her father was killed by werewolves, and her mother couldn’t bear the heartbreak, passing away suddenly. Ariel is consumed by pain, yet she steels herself to stay strong because she has a twin sister, Alice, and a friend, Ron, to protect. She’s determined to make the werewolves pay for their actions. But fate is merciless; Alice, driven by her own desires, betrays Ariel, and even Ron—her ever-loyal friend—begins to believe that Ariel’s death could be his ticket to freedom. Ariel refuses to break. Her greatest motivation for survival is to kill the Werewolf King—the one she believes responsible for her father’s murder. But destiny has a cruel twist in store: on the very day she intends to kill Elijah, she’s discovered to be his mate! As she finds allies willing to stand by her, will Ariel abandon revenge, or will she choose to forge a new path with Elijah?

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.

By the seventh year of my cold war with my father, Don Leonardi Rossi, he finally found a way to win me over. He introduced me to the most powerful Mafia Don in southern Ritalle—Riccardo Colombo. For my happiness, my father was willing to give me half of the family's empire as a gift. I surrendered completely to Riccardo's love. Four months later, I was pregnant. Every prenatal check-up saw Bascily regions' two most influential Dons personally by my side. Everyone envied me for having two men who loved me so fiercely. Yet, on the day of my amniocentesis, they were both absent. "There's a new arms deal in the north," my father said, stroking my head. Riccardo kissed my belly gently. "I'll bring you gifts when I return." I smiled and watched them leave. But as I lay on the examination table, my phone buzzed with an anonymous video. In it, my father wore a groom's suit, standing beside Rosa—the prostitute who had infuriated my mother to death. Their illegitimate daughter, Lina, cradled her swollen belly, proudly wearing the Colombo family crest, and clung to my husband's arm. The announcer cried, "Congratulations to Don Rossi for reclaiming his one true love, and to Don Colombo for marrying his soulmate!" At the video's end, my father laughed and clinked glasses with Riccardo. "The fake crest and fake marriage certificate for Lia—you really outdid yourself. Aren't you worried she'll be heartbroken?" Riccardo snorted. "She never let Rosa into the house, leaving Lina to grow up as a bastard. This was what she owed her." So that was the truth. But when I finally left with my child for the Massimo family, why did they still regret it?

“Stay low, Omega. Unless you want to be flattened.” On the ice, I am not a girl. I am a liability. At least, that’s what Jaxon Thorne tells me every time his skates spray ice over my gear. As the only female on the university’s elite hockey team, I expected the chirping. I didn’t expect the suffocating, predatory shadow of our coach. Jaxon is a True Alpha in every sense—brutal, commanding, and obsessed with purity on his team. He hates that I’m here. He hates that my scent messes with his focus. And he spends every practice making my life a living hell. But his hatred feels… heavy. It’s in the way he traps me against the boards during drills, his massive frame pinning me until I can feel the thrum of his heart through our pads. He says he’s "fixing my stance," but his hands linger too long on my hips, and his growl sounds less like a coach and more like a beast claiming its prey. Then comes the ultimate penalty: a housing error makes us roommates. Now, there’s no rink to separate us. Just thin walls and the agonizing pull of our biology. He glares at me across the kitchen table with eyes that want to ruin me, yet he’s the one sliding the bolt shut on the front door. He says Omegas don’t belong in his sport. But the way he looks at me when I’m cornered says he thinks I belong exactly where he can keep me: on my knees, under his command, and utterly his. ************************** Trigger Warnings: 18+ Content/Hardcore: Graphic sexual content, CNC (Consensual Non-Consent) elements, dub-con (due to biological "Heat/Scent" influences), aggressive Alpha behavior, and language.

SAVAGE LOVE GENRE: Romance By, Tamar writes PROLOGUE Amour sniffed back her tears as she watched the scene before her. Never in her life would she have imagined getting herself in this situation she currently was. It felt like a never ending nightmare. The sound of footsteps was what rented the room, it was coming from a tall figure, his gaze never left the man that was tied down on a chair with both his hands chained down on the table The figure held a sharp silver colored knife in his hand, twirling as if it was his play toy, a vicious smirk playing on his lips Every step he took instilled fear and panic inside the man that was tied down. “Boss please forgive me! I was drunk so I thought she was one of the clan's whóre I swear I didn't know she was yours" The man begged like his life depended on it. "Which hand did you use to touch her" Aurelio spoke calmly. "My.. My.. L-Left-" He wasn't chanced to finish his sentence when Aurelio cut off his left hand completely. Blood splashed on his cheek as it began bumping out of the man's hand. "Aargh!!!" The agonizing cry from the man echoed in the room as he peed on himself. Aurelio turned to Amour who looked horrified with the scene she just witnessed. His hands found his way to her neck and he gripped it tightly, bringing her face close to his so he could have a clear view of the terrified look on her face. "This Is just the highest level of my kindness compared to what I can do. Remember this, you're mine! Mine to touch, mine to f**k, mine to do whatever I want with... No one else... But me"

Dark Mafia Scene “Who laid a hand on you? Dallion's voice was low, cold, and dangerous. His dark gaze bore into her, daring her to stay silent. When she didn’t respond, the tension snapped like a whip, his voice booming through the room, “Who?” The butler, standing rigid against the wall, swallowed hard before stammering out the words, “It... it was Mr. Rivers, sir.” The atmosphere turned deadly as Dallion's jaw clenched, fury igniting in his eyes. “Bring him to me.” The butler’s eyes widened in fear. “N-now, sir? It’s... it’s late.” Dallion's hand, once braced against the wall near her head, slowly curled into a fist. His eyes never left her face, his possessiveness was palpable. Without looking at the butler, his voice dropped to a lethal calm, “Do you need a better time? Or shall I break your legs to teach you urgency?” The butler didn’t need any more encouragement. He fled the room, returning twenty minutes later with a trembling Mr. Rivers. “Dallion, my friend, what’s all this about?” Rivers began, his voice casual as if nothing was amiss. But Dallion wasn't’t here for pleasantries. His eyes slid to the knife stabbed into the apple on the table, and in one fluid motion, he yanked it free, the blade glinting in the dim light. Without a word, Dallion grabbed Rivers outstretched hand, slamming it onto the table. The sharp scream that followed echoed in the room as Dallion, with one swift movement, sliced through the man’s fingers. Blood splattered across the polished wood as Rivers screamed in agony, clutching his mutilated hand. “No one touches what belongs to me,” Dallion's voice was eerily calm, his expression devoid of any sympathy.