Gothic Table Runner

During the five years I was in a vegetative state, all ten family soldiers assigned to guard me were murdered. One of them merely smoked a cigarette outside my hospital room. The next day, he was found upside down, drowned in a toilet. Another simply adjusted my pillow. The next day, he took a dive from a skyscraper rooftop. The Corleone family was in chaos, but they couldn't find a single trace of the killer. With no other choice, the ten executions, all textbook Mafia hits, became cold cases. Strangely, the very second the tenth guard's heart stopped, I opened my eyes. The first thing I did upon waking was call the FBI and turn myself in. The agents were stunned. "Miss Corleone, are you saying that while in a coma for five years, you planned and executed the murders of ten fully armed Mafia soldiers?" My fingers tapped lightly on the table, a faint smile playing on my lips. "That's right." "Being in a vegetative state only means I couldn't move." "Who ever told you that killing, something so crude, required me to get my hands dirty?"

“If I can make you scream, Daddy… you’ll apologize for killing my men.” I smirked. I take three men at once and still walk away starving. Then he slammed me over the pool table, tore my panties, and buried every bare inch of his cock. One thrust. “Daddy!” He fucked me until I squirted down his balls and forgot my own name. That man? My father-in-law. Alpha Knox. I'm married to the son, but wet for the father. Now I'm his daughter-in-law by day. By night I'm on my knees for this enemy Alpha, begging for the brutal pleasure no other wolf can give me. He's the ruthless Alpha I'm supposed to kill. I'm the warrior bride sent to destroy him. Instead I'm on my knees every night, mouth full with his cum, pussy dripping, addicted to the forbidden cock that owns me. How much longer can I lie with my husband in the next room... while I'm busy getting ruined by his father?

"𝑨 𝑮𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆" In the kingdom of evils, he was a god feared as a monster. Xavier Stone, a gangster. A name that made even devils bow. He built his empire from blood, sin, and the screams of men who thought they could defy him. A man with no mercy, only hunger for power. And yet, one woman brought that evil god to his knees. Iris Ashford... kind, yet strong when it mattered. She was everything he wasn't. When fate moved, it struck hard. Her marriage proposal landed on his table like a loaded gun. And that moment was the beginning of his possession. When Xavier Stone desired something, the world burned in ash before he let it go. Iris could face anything, but marrying a criminal was never her choice. She despised men like him, a gangster, the kind who caused pain to others without a flicker of guilt. She would've done anything to stop it, to escape the fate that chained her to his name. But destiny turned merciless, and in one twisted move, she found herself bound to the very man she swore she'd never belong to. Then began his dark devotion...

I was the illegitimate daughter of Alpha Kris of Dark Moon. He raped a human slave 18 years ago and that was my mom. I became a disgrace and a shame to my family. They punished me and locked me up in the basement all day except to let me out to complete my daily routine as a slave. Yes. I looked like any common slave of the pack house. No one would expect me as the Alphas's daughter. As a hybrid, I hadn't been able to shift, but I could hear their thoughts. It's not a good thing though, for me, it's a nightmare. Most of what I've heard were my half-sisters' curses and insults. "CLAUDIA! Hurry up and get in here!" I knew Elly was going to scream my name long before her shrill voice echoed out of her room and into the hallway where I waited. This was the daily ritual, every afternoon. She would call for me, and while she sat at her vanity table, I brushed her long hair like a servant to her satisfaction. No one would guess she was my half-sister, nor Maria in the other bedroom...

Ericka Matthews has been in love with her roommate for two years. The problem? Dominic Anderson made her sign a contract when she moved in: no romance allowed, or she's out. She's respected that boundary, hidden her feelings, and watched him from across the breakfast table every morning without letting on. Then Dominic kisses her. And immediately tells her not to kiss him back. Heartbroken and humiliated, Ericka decides to disappear. She has a backup plan, savings, and an apartment lined up. She'll be gone before he even notices. But when she collapses on campus and ends up in the hospital, Dominic is forced to confront what losing her actually means. The contract gets torn up. Confessions are made. And it turns out their mothers have been running a secret spy network dedicated to getting them together for three years. Now they just have to survive Sunday dinner with both families and Aunt Linda's unopened Christmas presents. A contemporary romance about two idiots who wasted three years pretending to be "just roommates," the meddling families who saw right through them, and the kiss that finally broke all the rules.

"I said I'm not staying" "Take one step towards that door" He said, setting the pan down, pivoting slowly, and leaning against the counter, "and I'll cuff you to the dining table" • When a sassy college student, Lumi, is forced to become a personal assistant to her brother’s best friend and notorious billionaire, Zorin Lane, who has been obsessed with her from when they were kids, she’s unaware his protective interest has taken a dark turn into obsession. Tasked with protecting her from hidden enemies, Zorin’s obsession spirals into stalking and Lumi is the only one who doesn’t know he’s both her protector and the predator. * (Main Characters Zorin Lane 26 years old Billionaire CEO and also a Mafia Don, dangerously handsome with dark hair and a striking blue eyes. And a body inked with different tattoos ranging from skulls to spiders, and a silver piercing on his brow, another on his lower lip. His childhood vow to protect Lumi turns into a dark obsession and he readily kills anyone who as much as sets eyes on Lumi. His obsession with her leads to underlying stalking.

Serafina Vale didn’t want love anymore, she wanted war and a husband to help her start it. Her ex-fiancé slept with her stepsister and proposed to her on camera, in front of everyone. So yeah—she needed to hit back, fast and publicly. With help from her best friend, Rhea, she was supposed to meet a broke model at a diner. Sweet guy, easy to handle. Just enough to stir drama and ruin the happy couple’s fairytale. But she sat at the wrong table and accidentally proposed to the wrong man. Dorian Everhart was the opposite of harmless. He was cold, unreadable and terrifyingly rich. He absolutely had no business saying yes. But…he did. He married her the same day with no questions asked or rules attached either. She thought she was the one using him. But he didn’t seem to bulge, and now, she’s starting to wonder, who really set this up? Why does her stepsister flinch every time Dorian’s name comes up? and why does he know so much about her family? What the hell does he want from her? And worse….why does a part of her want him to take it?

On my birthday, the dining table was loaded with all my favorites. My mom had been cooking and baking the entire afternoon, insisting everything be perfect for when Mike got home from work so we could celebrate together. But then, he called and said his first love had been drugged at a bar, and he had to go help her. I stopped him and begged him not to go. Mike snapped at me. "Jesus, Em, don’t pull this jealous wife crap. She’s alone, defenseless, and unconscious—I can't let some random dude take advantage of her!" My mother heard those words and was so enraged that she had a heart attack. She died on the spot. Just like that, my mom died on my birthday. I called Mike, asking him to attend my mom's funeral. But before he could reply, I saw Cathy Miller's latest Instagram post, captioned: [Mikey… after all these years, it was always you.] Mike had liked it. My thumb moved before my brain caught up, typing out the only words that mattered: [A homewrecker and a lying bastard. Hope you rot together.]

At the dinner table, my mother-in-law slid a contract across to me, right in front of more than 20 relatives. "Just sign it," she said lightly. "Consider it a favor to me." I looked down. A home mortgage agreement for 150,000 dollars. Across from me, my husband's younger brother, Jim Canfield, watched with a grin. Beside him, my husband's eldest sister, Cindy Canfield, urged impatiently, saying, "Shirley, what are you waiting for? Just sign it." I said I needed to go home and talk it over with Howard Canfield first. My mother-in-law's expression darkened. "What? You can't even make this decision for your own marriage?" That night, I did not sign anything. Later, she sent a three-minute voice message in the family group chat, accusing me of being childish, ungrateful, and heartless. More than 70 replies followed—not a single one in my defense. A month later, I came home from work to find three men waiting at my door, there to seize the house. I pulled out my phone and checked the property registry. The record was clear. [Mortgaged. 150,000 dollars.]

My daughter was violated and killed, yet her death was ruled a suicide. After seven failed appeals, I kidnapped the chief prosecutor’s daughter. I tied the chief prosecutor’s daughter to an autopsy table and publicly addressed the prosecutor’s office in a live stream. “I performed the autopsy myself. My daughter didn’t kill herself. She was murdered. “I’ll give you seven chances. Release the actual evidence and name the murderer publicly. Each time a chance runs out, I’ll remove one of her body parts.” The chief prosecutor and his wife knelt on the floor. They begged me desperately to spare their daughter. “The evidence proves your daughter took her own life. Stop this madness now and let my daughter go. She’s innocent.” Viewers in the live stream called me insane. They said I had lost my mind with grief and was taking it out on an innocent person. I ignored their contempt. With a sneer, I picked up a scalpel and pressed it against the judge’s daughter’s abdomen. “The clock is ticking. Hurry up and reveal the true murderer now.” I knew perfectly well the real murderer was watching the stream at that very moment.