Harry Styles Tattoo Mermaid

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?”

“I sat on his lap, my face inches from his, my breath unsteady, his heat pressing against me as his eyes held mine. He dropped the cigar into a tray, leaned in, and his lips almost touched mine, but at the last moment I shifted, pulling back, and his low chuckle rumbled against my skin. “Oh, girl, you do not want to go down that path,” he said, his fingers tracing down the line of my neck until suddenly he stilled, his hand brushing against the tattoo marked into my skin. He leaned in closer, reading aloud in a low voice. “Jareth Gleb.” The name froze the air between us. “That’s… my father’s name,” I whispered, my breath shaky, and the moment the words left me, I saw the shock flash across his face. He grabbed my shoulders, pulling me off his lap so fast I stumbled. ” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Paris was born of divine blood, a Zara Spiritborn, daughter of beauty and seduction itself. Her face could stop hearts, her presence could ruin men. After losing her parents, she fell under the rule of her cruel stepmother, Selene, who turned her beauty into a weapon. By day, Paris was a princess. By night, she was the realm’s most desired stripper, dancing for masked Alphas who would pay mountains of gold just to touch her. Betrayed by the boy she loved and sold to Vincent the mad king, unknowingly to pay off a debt, only to discover that this tyrant is none other than her father’s brother. A man whose cruel hands are capable of untold violence and unspeakable desire. But passion bends every law, every taboo. Vincent finds himself falling for Paris is his niece and the only woman he should never desire but yet cannot resist.

Everyone knew Elio Carbone, Don of the Carbone family, was a cold-hearted womanizer. He had one rule: never sleep with the same woman twice. But for me, he broke it. The first day after our breakup, he stood outside the old Bianchi estate for a day and a night, his entire security detail in tow, just to win me back. The second day, he flew to Sicily and bought the deed to my family's ancestral estate at auction for triple its value, and had it delivered to me. The third day, he tattooed my favorite flower, the lily, over his heart. The tattoo artist said he refused any anesthetic and didn't make a sound. Later, at a banquet for the Five Families, in front of all the other Dons, he sliced his palm and made a blood oath. He swore loyalty only to Eleonora Bianchi for the rest of his life; if he broke his vow, he would pay with his life. After a year of his relentless pursuit, his devotion finally wore me down, and I agreed to take him back. I truly believed him then. That Elio truly loved me. Until one night. He took me to an underground racetrack to broker a deal with an ally. But in the roaring crowd, I saw a girl, trembling and crying, her clothes in tatters. Ava was shoved to the starting line. She was the wager for the death race. One look was all it took for Elio's face to darken. The next second, he dropped his hand from my waist and, without a word, walked toward the track entrance. I stood frozen, watching his back as he disappeared into the driver's seat of a modified sports car. I used to wake up crying, terrified he would lose his life in one of these reckless races. He had smashed his trophies, burned his marker for the illegal track, and sworn to God he would never again enter such a life-or-death gamble. My hand drifted to my stomach, covering the secret I hadn't yet had the chance to share. His blood oath was broken. And so was I.