Novel & Cerita Grave Robbers Chronicles

In my previous life, I fell in love with Dante Ravenna, the Don of the Ravenna family who also happened to be my uncle without any blood relations. As soon as I found out that Dante was drugged with aphrodisiacs, I didn't hesitate to become his antidote. One month later, I found out that I was pregnant with his baby. Because of that, the old Don pressured Dante into marrying me. On the day of our marriage, Dante's first love, Serafina Calvetti, had flown overseas out of heartbreak, only to get kidnapped by one of the Ravennas' rival families. They ended up killing her in cold blood. Before Serafina died, she had called Dante 199 times for help. But Dante never picked up any of them because of how busy he was with the wedding preparations. When the damage was done, Dante just stared at the 199 missed calls without saying anything. In fact, my life after marriage was even better and happier than before. I thought Dante had already let go of Serafina's death. What I didn't expect was that he'd lock me up in the basement on the day I was supposed to give birth. I ended up suffering from heavy bleeding. With one foot in the grave, I begged Dante to take me to the hospital. Yet, he just stood by and watched as my unborn baby and I died in front of him. Before I breathed my last, I heard his cold and ruthless voice. "I would've married Serafina a long time ago if it wasn't for you using every trick in the book just to sleep with me and get pregnant with my baby!" When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Dante gets drugged. In this life, I refuse to serve as Dante's antidote. Instead, I call Serafina on the phone.

"Do you know what happens if I take you and mark you right now, Addie?" His deep, feral voice came, and he saw her gulping. "What?" She asked breathlessly, surprised that she didn't stutter. "It means every inch of you will become mine..." He growled, caressing her lips with his thumb. "Your lips," Adeline held her breath as he trailed the hand down the slope of her chest, squeezing her nipples torturously. "Master... "Your breasts," he groaned, adjusting himself behind her. He spanked her ass. "Ah!" She gasped at the instant sting. "Your ass," he sounded, then dragged his hand down her shamelessly wet pussy. "Ohh," Adeline moaned impatiently as he parted the folds of her cûnt and inserted a finger inside. "And your pussy," he declared in finality. As if confirming his dirty words, her hungry soaked pussy clenched around the finger. "If any man as much as touches you..." He warned, grabbing her by the throat. Adeline whimpered sharply. "He'll end up in a shallow grave, and you'll end up getting tied to my bed and fucked so hard my name will be the only thing you remember." -- After spending five years behind bars for the murder of her parents, the truth about Adeline's case slipped. Her boyfriend—Corey, killed her parents to steal their investments and framed her. Now, Adeline's thirst for revenge needed satiation. To bring a man like Corey to his knees, she needed strength. She proceeded to Russia where she joined The Bratva, disguised as a man. But the moment her trainer—the most psychotic man in Russia, set eyes on her, he knew she was a woman, and the demons in his head requested for her pieces. Break her. Ruin her. Make her your dirty little toy. And him? He took it too serious.

EZREN: Kiss or kill. Those were always the two options left.. until the past walks back into my life in the form of blue eyes, ginger curls, and a tattoo he swears I should remember. Knox Graye. A diagnosed psychopath. Says he was my brother’s boyfriend. That I left him to die and that I hold the only truth to his death. He is everywhere. Digging up my lies. Ruining what’s left of my life. Call me ‘Cherry’ like it means something. I swear I hate it. I hate him. I don’t know if he wants closure, revenge, or just someone to break. Either way, I’m his target and his third option. KNOX: Everyone thinks I’ve got a loose screw in the head but they're wrong. I lost the whole damn toolbox, buried six feet under with the only person I ever loved. I've spent six years grieving. Dying in pieces while he rots away in a grave but now? Now someone else walk around in his bones, smiling with his lips like he fuckin’ owns it. Like I wouldn’t recognize my own goddamn Cherry. Except now he calls himself Ezren. Cute. He thinks he has been hiding behind top grades and golden-boy charm, but I built his whole damn maze. And now that he's close? I’m done with subtlety. I want chaos in his veins, his secrets peeled off like skin. I want to crawl into the part of his head where he still hears his brother’s laugh and whisper: “You were always mine." He doesn’t know it yet, but I’m going to dismantle him. Brick by fucking brick. And when he finally breaks, I’ll be there to offer him a choice. “Kiss or kill, Cherry?”

Sienna Calder swore she’d never touch her father’s world—Dorian Ashford, shipping mogul and billionaire king, left her mom to rot while he built his empire. She’s there to curse his grave when he dies, not to claim a dime. But his will traps her, naming her co-heir to his $50 billion legacy alongside Roman Valtieri, the brooding, hard-edged protégé who’s clawed his way into Dorian’s shadow—and now into hers. They’re to run the empire together or lose it all, and Sienna hates him for it: too slick, too close, every look a spark she doesn’t want. Then a letter from Dorian’s cold hand ignites the fire—he was murdered, and Roman’s name’s scratched beside the truth. A silver key and a vial of blood—hers, his—drag her deeper, promising answers locked in Ashford estate.But the walls crash in fast: Ezra Locke, a scarred snake with a grin like a blade, wants that key, and he’ll drown the place to get it. Roman’s her lifeline—gun drawn, hands steady, pulling her from the flood—and she loathes how his touch burns, how his voice steadies her when the water’s at her throat. Caught between rage and a pull she can’t name, Sienna fights the heat growing with every near miss—Roman’s too damn solid, too damn close, and she’s torn between shoving him away and pulling him in. The empire’s crumbling, the cliff’s falling, and Ezra’s not the only shadow circling—something darker watches, waiting. Love’s a gamble when blood’s the stake, and Sienna’s playing with a deck her father rigged. Can she trust Roman’s hands to hold her up, or will the crown they’re fighting for crush them both in its ashes?

Everyone thinks I've lost my mind when I marry Bryan Sable. That's because I'm the daughter of the richest family in town, while he's just the owner of a small company. Everyone says he's only marrying me for my money. They don't know that he's willing to risk his life just to be with me. He also spent years pursuing me. On the day of the wedding, apart from the wedding ring, I also give him 99 free passes, saying, "If you ever upset me, you can use one of the free passes to cancel it out. But once you've used up all 99 of them, this marriage ends." Bryan swears he will never even use a single one of the free passes. But not long after we get married, he gets involved with his secretary, Roxy Upton. From that moment onward, the free passes get used up in rapid succession. He uses one when he misses my birthday party because of her. He uses another when I find a hickey left on his neck by someone other than me. It gets to a point where even our butler can't help but remind Bryan, "Mr. Sable, I think Mrs. Sable is upset right now. Are you sure you want to leave now to go to Ms. Upton?" But Bryan doesn't think much of it. "If she's upset, let her be upset. What's the worst that can happen? I'll just use one of the free passes. I've only used about 50 of them. I've got plenty of chances left." He has no clue that he only has three free passes left. And by now, I no longer kick up a fuss. I'm simply waiting for the day he uses up the final chance. I'm going to watch him dig his own grave, losing me as well as everything I've given him.

"You think you can play with my feelings, kitty?!" I could feel the intensity of his voice. I stepped back, feeling the wall behind me. "Who said I am playing with your feel~" I was cut off by his strong fist that landed beside my head, making me gasp in horror. "You, sitting on the lap of that bastard! Dakota Weasly, you just dug your boy toy's grave!" his voice boomed like thunder, deafening my ears. "He's not my boy toy, Martin. He's my boyfriend, and I like h~" Again, I was cut off, but not by his fist this time. His kiss ravished my mouth like I was his last meal. Before I could say something, my hands, like they had minds on their own, were slowly wrapping around his head. My tongue slid inside of his mouth while a moan escaped from me, making him deepen our kiss. When we stopped, we both gasped for air. "Do you like him?" he asked, his eyes fixed on mine. "Martin, I..." I suddenly lost my tongue. "I'll count till three. You must answer well, or I'll tell Luke to shoot him now!" "What?!" I asked, shocked. "Martin, what did you do to him?" I pleaded with my eyes, which became watery, but he just sneered. "Worried, huh?!" as he was about to call someone, I grabbed the phone and shouted... . Dakota Weasly was an easy-going, independent fashion designer from New York. She was strong-headed, who never stopped till she got what she wanted. This charming young lady accidentally bumped into the notorious mafia leader, Martin Marcini. The leader of Scared-faced Gang, one of the scariest mafia in Italy. . What could happen when an easy-go-lucky young lady played the heart of the scariest, gorgeous young man in the state?

His voice dropped lower. “You saw the news, didn’t you? The little warning on the LED TV?” Her eyes flickered. “…Yes, sir.” “Then why didn’t you turn back?” Her mouth opened, but no words came out. “And you saw they’ve never shown my face on the news.” He tapped his temple, eyes glinting. “But now you’re staring right at me. You know exactly what I look like. You think I’ll let you walk away?” “No! Please!” Isabella’s voice cracked, tears falling. “I promise with my mother’s grave—I’ll never speak of this! Please, just spare me!” Alessandro smirked, lifting his gun. “People like you swear. People like you also betray. Let’s see…” Her whole body locked. “No, no, please—” The gun fired. Isabella screamed. But when she opened her eyes, the bullet hole smoked in the wooden floor beside her. Her chest heaved. Her hands shook. She collapsed onto the ground, sobbing. Alessandro leaned back, laughing softly. Then—something in her snapped. She pushed herself up on trembling legs. “You want to kill me? Then fucking do it!” His brows lifted. “What the fuck is wrong with you gangsters?” she yelled, her voice shaking. “Do I look like someone who can hurt you? You almost made me wet my pants out there with your bullets. Do you think that’s funny?” One of his men growled, stepping forward, hand raised. “How dare you talk to the boss like that—” “Stop,” Alessandro ordered sharply, raising his hand without taking his eyes off her. Isabella’s chest heaved. “You think taking lives is funny?” She beat her chest with her fist. “Fine. I’m going to walk out that door right now. Shoot me if you want.”

After a vicious family power struggle, I fled to a small border town in the south. I took on a new identity and found work in a flower shop. Everyone believed I was dead. Then one day, someone from the family came to the shop to order flowers for the birthday party for Roman Jackson, the head of the Jackson family. The person who arrived was my former Underboss. She stared at me in shock and demanded to know why I had not returned to the Jackson family if I was still alive. She told me that Roman had kept watch over my grave for two years and that he had attempted suicide three times in the cemetery, each time stopped by someone else. Roman was my ex-husband. He had an adopted sister, Liliana. Fifteen years ago, her parents were gunned down while covering Roman's father's escape from a rival family. After that, Liliana became Roman's most cherished sister. She tampered with my armored car. The brakes failed, and the vehicle plunged off a cliff. I broke three ribs. Roman mobilized every resource the family had and pulled me back from the brink of death. She bribed my bodyguard and laced my red wine with a neurotoxin. I lay unconscious in the villa for three days and nights. Roman sealed off the entire city, hunted down everyone involved, and made them pay in blood. She tried to kill me, and he saved me. This absurd cycle went on for three years. Until the last time. She detonated a bomb at an arms deal I was overseeing, burning seventy percent of my body. As I was lifted onto the ambulance stretcher, I clutched Roman's suit and, with the last of my strength, begged him. "Kill her, Roman. She sabotaged the deal. Those are the family rules." He crouched down, his fingers brushing my bloodstained face. His voice was calm, almost cruel. "Liliana didn't mean to. Let it go. For the sake of what her parents sacrificed for the family." In that moment, my heart to him died completely.

After three years of relentless pursuit, I finally won over Logan—a guy who had never shown the slightest interest in women—and he cherished me like I was his entire world. On the eve of our wedding, I accidentally overheard one of his friends teasing him, "Logan, are you really ready to step into the grave of marriage for Bella? And what about Joann? She's chased you for so many years. Don't you feel anything for her?" Logan's voice was cold. "If we hadn't grown up together, I wouldn't even want to see Joann's face. She could never compare to Bella, ever." So, I held onto dreams for our future, and I married him. Two years later, at our daughter's hundred-day celebration, Joann came to me in tears, claiming her baby had leukemia—and that only my daughter could save her baby. Logan's eyes reddened instantly, and without hesitation, he sent our daughter into the operating room to have her blood drawn. I struggled in the bodyguards' grip desperately, crying and pleading, "Logan, Lily is still so little. She can't take this. She'll die! Please, use the cord blood I stored for her. I'm begging you, let her go." He kicked me aside. "It's just a bit of blood. Joann's baby is dying, and you're still this selfish? Get out!" When the surgery was over, he tossed a divorce agreement at me. "Joann's child is mine. I have to give them both a name, and I'm taking her abroad for treatment." I stared at my silent, motionless daughter in the operating room, my heart turning to ash. "Fine." Six years later, Logan saw me in a baby store, holding the hand of my five-year-old son. Logan reached out with a pained look, trying to pick him up. "Why did you cut Lily's hair so short? She looks like a boy. What were you thinking?"

On the day I was due to give birth to my twins, I bought up every dose of moonsleep suppressant in the healing den and forced my labor to stop. I endured the pain until the next day, just to watch my Alpha mate, Damien Thorne, stand before the entire Black Moon Pack and declare that Victoria Hale—the tenth mistress he had brought in to bear him an heir—had given birth first. Her child, he announced, would be the future heir of Black Moon. Only then did I finally breathe out and let my own twins come into the world. In my past life, Damien had been told he was unlikely to ever produce an heir of strong blood. Desperate to secure a successor, he brought one she-wolf after another into our pack and declared that whichever woman gave birth first, her child would inherit everything. But he promised me this: if I delivered first, he would send every last mistress away, and my children would be the only heirs of Black Moon. I believed him. So when I found out I was carrying twins, I thought the Moon Goddess had finally shown me mercy. But on the day I went into labor, what greeted me was not joy, but Damien’s rage. To protect Victoria and her pup’s claim, he forced my labor to stop and left my twins to die inside me, little by little. Then he dragged me to kneel before Victoria’s grave and smashed my head against the stone until blood covered my face. “Victoria had nothing,” he snarled. “I only wanted her child to become heir, so no one in this pack would ever dare look down on them.” “But you couldn’t even give her that. She died in labor. Her child died with her. You should pay for both their lives.” I was beaten to death before her grave. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my twins were due. This time, I would not fight him. I would give Damien exactly what he wanted—the perfect family of three.