Jerusalem Delivered Poem の小説・ストーリー

Camilla walks into my study, and the air shifts. She's a distraction I can't afford, but fuck if I can resist her. Her fingers trace the edge of my desk, her eyes locked onto mine. "What are you doing, Camilla?" I growl, my control already fraying. She's a walking temptation, and she knows it. She smirks, her voice a sultry whisper, already undoing me. "Pushing your buttons, Zeke. Seeing how far I can go before you snap." My control falters. I spin her around, pressing her against the desk. My hands roam over her body, and I can feel her submitting. "You want this?" I ask, my voice a low growl. "You want to see the beast you're unleashing?" *** Camilla Dawson never expected to see the sinfully hot stranger she once hooked up with in a public washroom ever again. But fate—or rather, a father she never knew existed—has other plans. Now, she's bound and delivered as payment for a debt, straight into the hands of none other than Zeke Russell—the ruthless kingpin who always gets what he wants. Zeke built his empire on power and control, and he never takes no for an answer. Business or pleasure, the rules are his. It’s been years, but he’s never forgotten the woman who left him wanting more. Now, with Camilla thrust into his world as a replacement for his promised bride, everything spirals into chaos. She was never supposed to matter. Yet somehow, she’s slipping past his defenses, unearthing secrets he’s buried deep—and igniting a dangerous obsession. And when enemies close in, there’s nothing he won’t do to keep her. After all, what’s one more crime in the name of love?

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.

On the day Christian Starr held his celebratory banquet to celebrate his company going public, I was forced to return to the country. I couldn’t afford my rent abroad anymore, so I had no choice but to take a job as a food delivery rider. Every single eye in the luxury private lounge snapped toward me. It wasn’t until the man sitting right in the center raised his head and his eyes met mine that someone broke the silence with a playful, mocking sneer. “Well, look who it is. Isn’t this Nova, Christian’s little sister who used to follow him around all day long?” “Back when Christian hit rock bottom, she took all her family’s money and fled abroad to live it up. I guess she got tired of the good life and came back to experience how the other half lives, huh?” The room erupted into a chorus of laughter. Feeling completely out of place, I nervously set the gastric medicine I had delivered onto the table and turned around, wanting nothing more than to leave. “Nova.” The deep and familiar voice rang out, forcing my footsteps to a sudden halt. “If you walk out that door right now, I will leave you a one-star review.” One bad review, and my three days’ worth of food delivery was practically for nothing. I could handle starving if I didn’t have money for food, but if I couldn’t pay my rent, I wouldn’t even have a roof over my head. I clenched my fists tightly and forced myself to meet Christian’s eyes once again. “Is there anything else you need, sir?” The corners of his mouth curled into a smirk. With his long, slender fingers, he casually knocked over a glass brimming with wine. Then, he pulled out a black card and tossed it onto the table. “Didn’t you always love money? Clean up all the spilled wine on this table with your mouth, and all the cash on this card is yours.”

"Over a kiss?" His eyes flashed. "Over assault. That's what it's called when you touch someone without their consent." His hand gripped my hip, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. "When you press your body against theirs. When you moan into their mouth like a wanton girl." The crude word should have offended me. Instead, my core clenched. "That's ridiculous." Desire mixed with anger. I pushed against him. He was solid as a wall, immovable. "I kissed you. But you kissed me back." I met his gaze, defiant. "And your hand touched me inappropriately. Grabbed my ass. Ground yourself against me. So quit acting like an innocent victim." It all started with a dare that led to one reckless kiss with a ruthless man. One addiction that could destroy them both. Kiara never expected the man she kissed at that club, the one who saved her, the one she drunkenly begged to fuck her, to walk into her life the next morning as Zander Creed. Billionaire. Zander is a recovering sex addict. Five years of brutal self-control... then Kiara happened, and his addiction is roaring back to life, threatening to devour them both. Fate delivered the cruelest twist. She's his best friend's daughter and daughter's new roommate. And she just got accepted into his prestigious internship program. Now she's living under his roof. Working beside him. Wearing dresses that destroy his defences. She knows exactly what she's doing, pushing every boundary and testing his control. He's desperate for her. And when she starts dating Marcus, a man who offers her everything Zander can't, just to make him jealous... his control detonates. The affair is passionate and forbidden. She wants his heart. He can only give her his demons. Some addictions can't be cured. Some love burns everything down.

The mafia coalition’s family banquet had reached its liveliest point. Someone started stirring things up and steered the conversation toward the youngest Don of the Fumagalli family, Dante Fumagalli. “Dante, before you came to power, all those old Dons from the major families were falling over themselves to push their daughters at you. Was there ever one you actually wanted?” I stood half a step behind him, and my knuckles turned white around my wine glass. Dante did not answer right away. His gaze swept over me, cool and indifferent, before he turned toward Viviana Lombardi, who still held the crowd’s attention. “I wanted her.” Viviana spun around so fast that wine splashed from her glass onto her wrist. “Then why did you not come when I gave you that hotel key card all those years ago?” The calm on Dante’s face finally cracked. He frowned. “Your key card? Was that not for Enzo Ricci?” “How could it have been for Enzo?” Viviana’s eyes reddened. “He is my first cousin.” One question led to another and the truth emerged. That hotel key card had been handed to the wrong person by a Soldato. Because of that mistake, they had missed each other. Viviana burst into tears on the spot. Regret shadowed Dante’s expression. Just then, someone laughed softly. “What a coincidence. Was the key card really delivered to the wrong person, or did someone make sure it ended up in the wrong hands?” In an instant, every eye in the room turned to me. Everyone remembered me. I was the woman who used to trail after Dante Fumagalli like a lovesick fool. I turned to look at Dante and hoped he would say something for me. I hoped he would tell them we had been secretly married for five years and that he had been the one who pursued me back then. He said nothing. He did not defend me. He did not deny anything. He stared ahead in silence as if none of this had anything to do with him. In that moment, I pulled off the wedding ring I had worn for five years.

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.

Throughout my seven years of living in this residential area, I've been helping my neighbors receive their parcels and babysit their children no matter how sudden the requests are. All sorts of delivered goods have gone through my hands, be it tiny regular parcels, special deliveries containing raw seafood, or furniture and electrical appliances. My motto is that close-knitted neighbors are more dependable rather than my family, who lives very far away from me. That's why I never hesitate to lend a helping hand as long as the circumstances permit me to do so. In fact, I often deliver everyone's parcels to their units. But one day, Carmen Webber, a young woman who has just moved into the apartment, brings this topic up during a casual chit-chat with the other neighbors. "Nowadays, the parcel lockers and the parcel pickup points are very convenient to use. There's absolutely no need to specifically get someone to sign your parcels for you. Could it be that Hilary is using the guise of doing things for everyone just to make some quick bucks under the table? "After all, those who accept parcels on behalf of others tend to get paid. You guys must have slipped her some money every time you drop by her place to pick up your stuff, right? Imagine how lucrative business must be for her!" Carmen then shoots me a glance, mockery dripping from her tone. The neighbors just swap looks with each other. Then, they turn their suspicious gazes to me. That's when Carmen adds, "Next time, you can seek me out when you need someone to accept parcels and babysit children for you. I have a lot of free time on my hands, and I promise that I won't earn a single cent from you guys!" My heart goes stone cold when I listen to everyone else agreeing with Carmen. Over the past seven years, I'm the one paying for everything, be it opening my door in the middle of the night to accept a delivery, babysitting children for others, or making up for the lost packages and the spoiled seafood. Not only do I not earn a single cent, but I've also lost quite a huge amount of money. On top of that, many of my plans get delayed or rescheduled, too. Since Carmen wants to be the good Samaritan this badly, I might as well let her take over all these troublesome and thankless matters from now on.

When the earthquake occurs, Kenneth Scott's childhood sweetheart, Gigi Lynch, and I are trapped under the debris at the same time. When I see the rescue equipment that Kenneth has tossed into the debris, I decide to give up on saving myself. So, I let Gigi have the opportunity to get rescued. In my previous lifetime, I successfully got rescued by Kenenth. But Gigi ended up getting crushed to death by the crumbling debris. Needless to say, she died a terrible death. After Gigi died, Kenneth hugged me and cried throughout the night. I thought he was crying tears of relief. That was, until he drugged me and had me delivered to the surgical table. When I woke up, I realized that my face had gone under the knife, making me look exactly like Gigi. I scratched at my face like a lunatic, only for Kenneth to grasp my wrists firmly. "Gigi traded her life to save yours! It's your duty to live this life for her from now on!" But later on, Kenneth was never satisfied with me. He kept criticizing me, saying that my gaze wasn't right, and my voice wasn't the same as Gigi's. All in all, I could never become her. After that, I got pregnant. Kenneth responded by bringing me miscarriage-inducing medication. I sank to my knees and begged Kenneth to spare the baby. In fact, I kept groveling to him till my forehead started bleeding. But Kenneth merely replied icily, "Impostors like you don't have the right to give birth to my child." Then, he gripped me by my chin and forced the bowl of boiling medicine down my throat. I felt as though my throat was being scalded. At the same time, blood kept oozing from my lower region. When my vision went blurry, Kenneth pushed me into a newly-dug pit. "Gigi is too lonely in the afterlife. Why don't you keep her company?" Mounds of dirt kept falling onto me. While I fought for air, I heard Kenneth's cruel laughter drifting from the surface. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the moment I'm about to get rescued.

My fiancé's junior colleague went around the hospital every day calling herself "the best girl". When a patient with acute appendicitis was admitted, she mistakenly prescribed laxatives instead of proper treatment. The patient nearly went into shock and died. After the hospital was reported by the patient's family, she simply smiled and said, "I don't even need a supervising doctor to prescribe medication anymore. I'm such a good girl!" On another occasion, she failed to order routine pre-op blood work for a surgical patient. During the procedure, a visiting senior surgeon was exposed and later contracted HIV. She actually puffed out her chest and said, "Even if everyone had to stay up all night helping me save the doctor, I'm still the best girl!" I protested more than once and urged my fiancé to dismiss her. He refused every time. He brushed it off with a laugh, saying "this good girl" just needed time and experience. Then, a prominent patient was transferred from a military hospital for surgery. She secretly tampered with the medical records, switching the pathology findings from the left lung to the right. She even revised the surgical plan, recommending removal of the patient's completely healthy right lung. Luckily, I caught the mistake in time, restored the correct pathology report, and performed the surgery successfully. After the patient recovered, he asked for our team to be recognized. To my disbelief, Elena Bakers ran to my fiancé in tears. "I wrote the entire report by myself! All by myself! I'm the best little girl! "Why do you always take credit away from me? It took so much courage for this little girl to be brave just once! "You're all horrible!" Elena stormed out of the hospital and was struck and killed by a car on the spot. My fiancé did not say a word. However, on the very day I was appointed hospital director, he produced falsified evidence accusing me of altering records and causing multiple medical accidents to advance my career. I was arrested, tried, and sentenced to death. As the verdict was delivered, he looked at me with unmistakable satisfaction. "You'll never make up for what you owe Elena. Not in this lifetime." When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Elena altered the surgical plan.

I'm married to Don Antonio Gallo for ten years. My hands, which are originally meant to play the piano, have learned to assemble guns and take apart bombs for him. I was there with Antonio when he was just a lowly criminal, and I witnessed his entire journey to the summit, where he claimed the throne as the king of the underground casino. But right after Antonio becomes successful in life, he gets infatuated with a pure and innocent maiden from the slums. That maiden is Silvia Bianchi. She was delivered to Antonio's bed like cargo. A maiden like her is as pure as an angel, yet so delicate like porcelain. For the first time ever, Antonio, who's already used to bloodshed and violence, gets a taste of addiction. He's really good at hiding her presence. I only find out about it when I accidentally come across him and Silvia attending a prenatal checkup together. When I break down and demand an explanation from Antonio, he just hands over a divorce agreement nonchalantly. "Silvia doesn't have anyone to rely on, nor does she have a home to go back to. Once she has a proper title, she and her baby won't get bullied anymore. "If you sign this document, I'll give you 20% of my shares. Once Silvia gives birth to her baby, I'll make sure that the baby acknowledges you as their mother as well. Consider this my compensation to you." Of course, I can't accept it at all. I end up slapping Silvia on the face during her baby's first party. That night, my younger brother, Paolo Romano, gets crippled and strapped to the front of an armored truck. "This is the lesson you shall learn for hurting Silvia, Valentina!" I kneel on the ground and beg Antonio to stop. But the moment the engine starts, I feel Paolo's blood being sprayed all over my face. Sharp pain flares from my abdomen immediately. I can only clutch it while screaming hysterically before passing out. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Antonio and Silvia are attending a prenatal checkup together. This time, I no longer ask Antonio any questions. Instead, I secretly sell all of the jewelry I've secretly kept and buy myself two plane tickets. Now, I just want to escape from Antonio with Paolo by my side.