Guts Scream

When I was 18 years old, Luigi Conti, the craziest heir of the Conti family, pulled out a gun at an auction and executed the Don of the Serra family. That man happened to be my foster father, also the one who had me auctioned away as though I were a slave. When he was being dragged toward the armored car by the military police, he kept laughing like mad despite having blood streaking down his face. "Why must I atone for my sins? Since God refuses to save you, let me be your savior! From now on, no one in Sandalay has the guts to clip your wings anymore, my darling Isabella!" Seven years later, Luigi gets released from prison. He looks at me as I wash dishes for a living in the slums before snuffing out the cigar trapped between his fingers. That night, Luigi returns to his family and steals the position of the Don. After we get married, I'm the only person who has the highest access over the vaults under the Conti family. Luigi even forcibly expands the ring that signifies ultimate authority—which has been passed down from generation to generation for a century—and slides it onto my ring finger. He buys half of Sandalay's estates just so he can fill the vineyards with the white grapes I've mentioned in passing. He tells me that his turf is called Isabella. But everything changes when I discover a photo album stashed in a hidden compartment in Luigi's study. All 2,000 photos feature a young woman in a white dress who is reading in the library. That is the female assassin he's planning on training. The woman looks very pure and innocent. She's most suited to conquer certain bigwigs' hearts. But now, it seems that Luigi's the one being conquered by her. When Luigi finds out about my discovery, he throws the photo album into the fireplace and watches it burn in the fire with a stony expression. "I'm just repackaging her so that she can aid me in money laundering. Just pretend you never saw the photo album." I push the signed divorce agreement over to Luigi. "I said, sign the agreement." Frustrated, Luigi pins the divorce agreement on the table with a knife, his expression insanely dark. "Isabella Serra, have you forgotten about the Conti family's rules? There's no such thing as divorce. We can only be widowed."

On the day I'm set to go into labor, I plead to my husband, Timothy Langford, to take me to the hospital when I'm two centimeters dilated. However, a pissed-looking Timothy orders his men to lock me up in a sauna room that's heated to 356 degrees Fahrenheit. This is all because my estimated labor date is one day earlier than my widowed sister-in-law, Natalie Thornton. Since Timothy is bent on making Natalie's baby the oldest grandson of the Langford family, he instructs his men to inject me with 100 labor-suppressant injections. No matter how much I beg Timothy to spare our baby, he remains unmoved. Having received 99 injections, I feel a world of pain crashing down on me, seeing as I'm already suffering from contractions to begin with. But Timothy is the one who injects the final labor-suppressant injection into my huge pregnancy bump. As he gazes at my agonized and writhing form, he says coldly, "It's already difficult for Natalie to survive in this world after losing my older brother. As her brother-in-law, I'm merely fulfilling her wish to become a mother. "Still, you refuse to spare her. It's not enough for you to force her to survive overseas on her own; you even plan on receiving labor-induction injections just to give birth to your baby on an earlier date! "It seems that I've spoiled you far too much for you to have the guts to pull this stunt off! The doctor already told me that once I've given you the labor-suppressant injections and leave you somewhere extremely hot, it can stop you from giving birth. You're only allowed to give birth once Natalie is out of labor." At that moment, I've completely given up on life. The moment Timothy witnesses Natalie's baby being born, his eyes are filled with tears of happiness. He sets off firework after firework to celebrate the grand birth. Later on, as Timothy gazes at Natalie's newborn, he finally remembers me and our unborn baby. When he's about to order his men to take me to the hospital, he receives a phone call from his assistant. "The hospital has called to inform you to take Mrs. Langford's body away."

As the quality control supervisor of an import company, I need to finish up the storage of the final batch of king crabs before the Independence Day festivities. Just after entering the subzero freezer, the door is immediately locked shut. The alarm system also fails. When I realize I'm starting to lose body heat, I immediately take out the hand warmers from the emergency kit. However, the moment I apply them, a chilling sensation makes me instantly realize something is wrong. I scream from the cold, and the walkie-talkie transmits the boisterous laughter of my fiance, Martin Clay. "We're live-streaming and challenging the company's 'Ice Queen' to be locked in the freezer. Let's see how long she lasts!" The flirty voice of his female colleague, Lilian Saunders, also comes through, "Sierra, smile for the folks in the live stream! The number one donor wants to see it!" I instantly understand that they're live-streaming a prank on me. Not only did they lock me in the freezer, but they've also replaced my life-saving hand warmers with cooling patches meant for fevers! I grit my teeth, trying hard to stay calm as I call out to them for help. "The spare… spare hand warmers… Give them to me!" My fiance's voice rings out from the walkie-talkie, sounding unconcerned, "Oops! Lily gets cold easily, and it's her time of the month. The spares are all being used to keep her belly warm! "You're so healthy that you can just jump around a little and you'll warm up! You might even get some tips from the number one donor!" I stop arguing with them. With frozen hands, I pull out the signal flare gun and aim it at the most valuable and mysterious cargo in the freezer—a tube of frozen sperm worth 200 million dollars.

As a male Omega, stepping onto the ice was never supposed to be my dream. Hockey belonged to Alphas—strong, dominant, born to conquer both the rink and everyone on it. Omegas like me were meant to stay hidden, protected, controlled. But hiding had never been enough. The World Hockey Academy was the only place powerful enough to shield my identity, the only place my adoptive father—its Dean—believed I could survive. To the public, it was an elite sports academy. To those like me, it was a prison disguised as opportunity. To them… it was Alpha Academy. From the moment I arrived, I swallowed suppressants like oxygen. Every breath had to be measured. Every movement controlled. A single slip—one flare of Omega scent—and I would be exposed. I had to skate like an Alpha. Fight like an Alpha. Bleed like one. On the ice, weakness wasn’t forgiven. That was when I noticed him. The strongest Alpha in the academy. The storm everyone feared. His presence alone made my knees weaken, my instincts scream in panic and hunger all at once. His golden eyes tracked me every time I touched the puck, sharp and suspicious, as if he already sensed something was wrong. During practice, we crashed into each other. The impact sent us both sprawling across the ice—but it was his hand gripping my jersey, his scent crashing over me, that shattered my control. My suppressants burned uselessly in my veins. His lips curved slowly, dangerously, as he leaned close enough for his breath to brush my ear. “Funny,” he murmured, voice low and certain. “For an Alpha… you smell like prey.” My heart slammed against my ribs. If he figured it out, everything would end. And yet— my Omega instincts whispered something far worse. I wanted him closer.

Even the street punks knew that in Chicago, Catherine Leone was untouchable. I had three deadly protectors watching my back. My husband, Raphael Falcone, was the youngest underboss in the Chicago Outfit. He was known for his cold, iron-fisted rule, yet in a crowded room, he would kneel to adjust the hem of my gown. My childhood friend, Luca Vizzini, the family's brilliant new consigliere. He'd sworn to protect me since we were kids. And my twin brother, Salvatore Leone, who cherished me above all else. He took over the family at eighteen and treated me like royalty, making me the most envied Principessa in the underworld. On my twenty-eighth birthday, I waited in the living room all day, clutching a pregnancy test with two solid lines, ready to share the news that would change everything. Instead, they brought me my brother's body, murdered by a drug dealer hailed as a hero. And standing before me was my husband, Raphael Falcone, ready to clear the murderer's name. "Tell me why," A scream clawed at my throat, but I fought it down, "You know damn well who the murderer is." "Catherine, control yourself." It was Luca Vizzini, my childhood friend, who tied my hands. "Salvatore's gone, but you still have us. You're still Mrs. Falcone, still the Principessa of the Leone family." "The Leones have looked after Chiara for years. You know her father is all she has." They wanted me to confess to my brother’s fabricated crimes and apologize to Chiara. But they forget. Before I was Raphael's wife, I was Catherine Leone. A master hacker who could breach any system. I will deliver my own justice in ways they cannot imagine. And I will make them regret it.

I kept on running with Kay as we manoeuvred our way through the messy crowd. Kay pulled me through and we finally got out of the club. We couldn't take the main entrance because Yoshim's men were there. We were running through the dark alley, panting and gasping for air. Relief washed over me when I realised that I finally left that hell hole. We kept on running when I heard a gunshot. I immediately halted and felt a warm liquid trickling down my arm. I looked around and saw no wound, I glanced at Kay and my eyes widened. I immediately brought my hand to my mouth trying to suppress the scream that wanted to come out. Kay held his arm as he bled profusely, he groaned in pain and fell on his knees. “Oh my God, Kay are you alright? Ugh, what am I going to do.” I said while hyperventilating. I heard footsteps and looked up only to be met by those same devilish eyes. He wore a grin on his face. And to his left was Gail who clung to him like a barnacle. How did he even know I escaped? “Haha, I overheard your little conversation with the guard, so I told Yoshim.” She smiled while talking. “Gail, what the is wrong with you?” I said with anger and tears in my eyes. She shrugged her shoulders and her mouth curved into a smile. I pressed my hand on Kay's wound to stop the bleeding, he groaned in pain and I couldn't stop my tears. “I should've gotten rid of you a long time ago.” Yoshim said while pointing a gun to my head. I closed my eyes and waited for him to pull the trigger.

"You are trembling," Dante whispered, his hand sliding up my thigh, hidden beneath the white tablecloth of the crowded gala. "Please," I begged, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. "Please what?" He leaned in, his teeth grazing my ear, his grip on my leg tightening to a bruise. "Please stop? Or please... take me?" He dragged his thumb over my skin, ruining me in front of everyone, his eyes dark with a terrifying promise. "You belong to me, Evelina. And tonight... I’m going to make sure you scream it. *** Three million dollars. That was the price of my sister’s life. To save her, I sold myself to Dante Valenti. He is the king of Wall Street, a monster in a tailored suit who deals in acquisitions and ruin. He didn't just want my skills as a curator; he wanted me. My time, my freedom, and my absolute submission for five years. I thought I could withstand him. I thought I could keep my heart safe behind walls of hatred. But Dante doesn't just break walls; he burns them down. He strips away my defenses layer by layer, forcing me to play his dark, twisted games. He isolates me, controls me, and manipulates my reality until I don't know where the cage ends and I begin. He treats me like a prized artifact—something to be displayed, guarded, and owned. But as the lines between hatred and desire blur, I realize the terrifying truth: He doesn't just want to own my body. He wants to break my soul until I thank him for the chains.

“The monster you’re talking about,” I muttered, my heart pounding furiously against my chest. “Let it out. I want to feel it,” He smirked, the type that sent shivers down your spine. The type that warned you ‘never make a deal with the devil’ kind. “Watch your tongue, darling,” His cold deep voice had its way of doing something to my stomach, especially when he laid threats. “I don't fuck like a gentleman. I also don't fuck like a monster,” he strides towards me, pinning his gaze on my body. “I fuck like the devil in your nightmares, and you’ll scream like I am your God.” A contract relationship. Signed by ink in words. It was supposed to be a contract, but it was a trap: “Both parties expressly agree that this arrangement is strictly contractual in nature and devoid of any emotional or romantic involvement. Any demonstration of affection, emotional attachment, or behavior suggestive of romantic intent shall constitute a material breach of contract. Violation of this clause will result in immediate termination of the agreement, and the offending party shall forfeit all benefits, assets, or compensations received under this contract. This clause is non-negotiable and emphasized as a binding condition of the agreement.” However, there was another; “Party A must be in a perfect health condition.” *** Olivia Hayes is terminally ill and suffers from cancer. She has lived all her life prioritizing her mother’s health condition until one sentence shattered her dynamism; “I’m sorry, Miss Hayes. The results confirm it is cancer.” With her mother in a critical condition, she struggles to raise the funds for immediate treatment not until her encounter with Ezekiel Grayson, a cold heartless CEO offering a contract that could directly change her life… and destroy it forever.

~ A psychic with the ability to know your darkest secrets and fate has learnt to be hidden and isolated. Till she meets the one human that is resistant to her will and for a split moment she finds peace and maybe love alongside a broken heart. ~ A ruthless billionaire has everything he desires, in the day time. But in the night, when he dreams of a goddess, he is left lost and empty. He hires an escort to soothe his loneliness but for a CEO that always gets what he desires, he is caught up in his own mind games and what he wants drifts from what he truly desires. ~•~Excerpt: "Tell me, when I fuck you, how loud will you scream?" His breathe brushed her throbbing neck, she was tempted to touch him. "As loud as you wish sir." He groaned in irritation. "I have seen the fire in your eyes, why hide it now?" Idris glared through her soul then he chuckled almost like a pleased predator, "have you ever been to the opera?" "Yes." Her pussy was burning and soaked, her nipples were impatient and her lips desired what he offered, but Joanna hid her arousal quite well, her eyes challenged his and her shoulders stood proud. "That's how loud I'll make you beg." In between his scorching promise, he made a delicious journey with his fingers passed her short gown and her lace pants into her damp folds, slowly and seductively, drawing a starved moan from her lips. "No need to hide darling I can smell your need and no matter how much obstacle you create, I'll own you. Every inch of you." Then he added another digit, deeper and drove her wild.

“What do you mean? Will you be protecting me for all your life?” “If you would allow me to do that, I will.” “But why would you do such a trouble?” “I am a straightforward and honest man. So, I think I like you. I wanted you to be my mate. But I will not force you if you don’t like it. I will only ask for you to repay me for saving you and protecting you.” My eyes widened. I started to feel uneasy. I feel like the man in front of me will change and begin to show his true colors. “How can I repay you?” I mumbled. Reule smile looks like he was a demon about to collect his payment. At that moment, I began to question which is worse, him or Conri. “I cannot help it. I am a man with needs like Conri. So, I would like to have a night with you, just to taste you.” I wanted to scream and run. What have I gone into? ====================================== Wren Blevine has been considered different among the she-wolves of the White Pack. She can only partly shift and she doesn't experience heat. Except for her family, nobody really likes her. When the Alpha died and was replaced by the son, Conri Lebon, he ordered to have Wren executed together with her family if she refused his conditions. After her family had been killed, Wren had been running and hiding. One day, she was almost caught. But luckily, she was saved by Reule Conrad, the Alpha of the Gray Pack. Just when she thought that he was a good samaritan, Reule asked to be paid by her body. Now, she is in a dilemma whether to agree or be surrendered back to her pack and die.