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I cringe in fear, he traces his finger down my half naked body feasting his eyes on me, I can tell my already wet transparent outfit isn't helping matters, I feel his hand graze through my nipple slightly he turns me over making me face the wall, I feel his bulge rub against me,I try pushing him but he pins me down with no effort at all, "It won't be fun if you don't resist" I'm hit by a sharp wave of pain as he thrusts into me gradually it turns to pleasure as he thrusts faster,harder and quicker my brain tells me to fight him off and run but my body aches for more pleasure than ever,I've always been this kind of slut but tonight I feel violated, He turns me over to face him I watch his lips move closer aiming for a kiss,disgusted and irked I kick him in the groin causing him to fall and sprawl on the ground ,I reach for my jacket, he pulls me by my ankle I try kicking him off but he's holding on too tight, restless and impatient I reach for the gun just before me pulling the trigger without second thought, he stays still not moving seconds after blood come gushing out from his abdomen,I hear claps come from behind "Well-done Nikita, welcome to the crib"

Rome never wanted anything else but to please his surrogate father, the man who had kept him when the world turned its back on him. Promising to do whatever his old man wished, he found himself walking inside their enemy line as the ‘wolf in sheep’s skin.’ Until the perfect day to finally kill their nemesis came. With his skill and his gun in his hand, he couldn’t be more ready. ​ But what if the door of the room he was hiding in suddenly opened? Surprised about what happened, he wasn’t able to take his eyes off the beauty that instantly appeared on that door. Ladies and Gentlemen, meet the ballerina, Margaux, the only woman in this world he wasn’t supposed to love at all. *** ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission, except where permitted by law. This is a work of fiction. Names characters, businesses, songs, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

He is blind and has the money. She is poor and has eyes. Both are perfect together on their quest for revenge, which brought them into the turmoil of lust, love, and hate. *** Leonardo pulled Angela's arms hard and said, "You will serve me and do my wish." He then tore her dress. "This is a wrong move, Mr. Vera." Angela twisted her wrist from Leonardo's grip, but Leonardo's strength remained intact and overpowering; he instead made her a prisoner in his arms and then pinned her on the wall. She was almost , with only her lingerie covering her and below. And he touched her face, down to her neck, her . Angela's hatred escalated with his touch, and she struggled, but he persisted in taming her, dragging and pinning her to his bed. His weight over her made her immobile. And she remembered her gun in her bag and reached out for it at the side of the bed, as Leo’s hand grasped her other hand and pinned it above her head. He was blind, but he knew what he was going to do. A little voice in Angela’s mind screamed, "KILL HIM!" as she grasped the gun in one hand.

A mysterious girl, known to be heartlessly cold, with a gun in her hand. Two criminals on the tip of her gunpoint, shivering and begging her for mercy, who used to be proud of their tremendous power. A secretive guy who fell in love with that girl and trusted her blindly, without knowing who she was. A child in the middle of the chaos to be protected and kept away from the fire of revenge. And a shadow secretly controlling the whole game and playing with their lives. The pawns are chosen and the war has begun. They're all trapped in this maze of secrets and revenge, holding each other at gunpoints. The maze gets more twisted with each step they take and the only thing that can get them out of there... is Death.

“Do you take love or power?" he asked pointing the gun right at my forehead. In the underworld of Atlanta, blood ties are not only sacred, but also deadly. Ariella Johnson, a fearless law student, had no idea she would be bound to ruthless Mafia Don Luis DeLuca. He marries her not out of love, but to gain power, claiming her before his rival. To the outside world, she is his wife and a symbol of strength. But Ariella refuses to be controlled. Defiant and sharp-tongued, she confronts Luis at every turn, refusing to submit to a man who regards her as nothing more than a strategic move. When her father dies after discovering the truth at the hands of the defeated rival, Ariella's grief transforms into quiet determination. She won’t be a pawn in anyone’s game. As she learns to navigate the dangerous world she has been thrust into, she develops an unexpected bond with Luis' sister, Annie. However, not everyone in his household is an ally—Kendy, a cunning maid, secretly works against Ariella with, ensuring she never finds her footing. One reckless, drunken night transforms everything. Ariella discovers she is pregnant, forcing Luis to face the truth: his wife is no longer merely a symbol; she is his greatest weakness. But, before he can make things right, betrayal paves in. His most trusted allies turn on him, using Ariella as leverage in a deadly power struggle. With enemies closing in and time running out, Luis must decide whether to defend the empire he built or fight for the woman who refuses to be conquered. In a world where love is dangerous and trust is a luxury, survival requires knowing whom to protect and who to destroy. Read HIS RUTHLESS REDEMPTION

"You think I'll let you go, sweetheart?” He caught the gun from her effortlessly and spun her in his arms, holding her captive once again as he chuckled into her ear, tilting her chin up with the barrel of the gun. “I clipped your wings for a reason. There’s no way back once you enter my world.” *** When an unfortunate incident in the family brings Matsyaa Rathore into the land of the royals, the last thing she expects is catching the eye of the notorious crown prince and becoming his untamed fantasy. His obsession has turned her life into a nightmare. Control slips out of her hands and she finds herself trapped in twisted games of power. To end this madness, she does everything to resist him, challenge him and fight him. Just about all she must not be doing. They say Ranvijay Singh Raghuvanshi is God for his people, and this time, the ‘God’ wants Matsyaa—all for himself. Amidst building tension and deep-rooted hatred, will Matsyaa be able to free herself from the dangerous royals, or will Ranvijay capture her for the rest of her life in his mystical lair?

Bah voilà jme présente ! Moi, c'est Zaïna, orpheline, j'ai 15 ans, je suis Comorienne mais avant tous Musulmane. Malheureusement je ne sais pas pratiquer. J'y connais rien. On ne m'a jamais apprise. On m'a poser à mes 1 ans apparemment. Bref ma vie jvous la racontera après. Bref physiquement ? Jfais 1m60, un truck comme ça ! J'ai une couleur de peau matte. J'ai un corps normal et les formes la où il faut. J'ai les yeux marron claiiiir qui vire au marron foncé quand jsuis énervé. Les cheveux noir/marron, tous est en fonction du soleil. A l'ombre tu les verras noir et au soleil tu les verras marron. Bref ils sont long et y'a beaucoup de volume ! Mais personne sais. C'est chignon ou natte, jamais je les montre. Bref assez parler dmon physique. Jsuis une meuf genre qui parl pas, qui calcule personne mais quand il faut j'ai une grosse bouche et sa peut aller loin en deux quatre six. Dans cette orphelinat, jparle à dégun depuis le drame (A suivre...). On m'appelle même la "muette". Ok leur délire mais m'en bas les couilles je leur répond pas. J'ai un coeur en pierre, double portes blindé, double serrure et trois codes. Rien ne m'atteint à part mon passer mais personne la connait. Bref mes journées se passe comme ça: Réveille => école => boxe => chambre et je bouge plus de la journée. Ah oui oui depuis cette incident j'ai décidé de plus me laisser faire. Mes parents ? Même vu pas jparle. Ils m'ont abandonné dès ma naissance tsssss et voilà ou je suis maintenant DANS UN ORPHELINAT DE MERDE . A suivre...

I stepped closer. Close enough to smell his cologne—cedarwood, leather, and power. My hand moved. Smooth, practiced. The pistol slide from under the apron into my palm. I raised it fast. But before I could pull the trigger— BANG. Not my shot. A scream tore through the restaurant as another man launched himself toward Romano’s table, blade flashing. Another assassin. What the hell— Romano didn’t flinch. He shoved the table forward, knocking the attacker off balance. The blade scraped across wood, not skin. I ducked instinctively as the room erupted into chaos. Gunfire cracked. Glass exploded. People screamed and dove for cover. “Get him out—NOW!” one of the guards barked. I aimed for the second attacker. Didn’t even hesitate. One shot—head. Gone. The guard saw me. Confusion flashed in his eyes. Then rage. I ran. I weaved between overturned chairs, plates, and screaming bodies. The smell of blood was real now, thick in the air. One of the guards grabbed me. I slammed my elbow into his ribs, twisted, and brought the butt of my gun down on his skull. He dropped like a sack of bricks. Out. I had to get out. My boots pounded the floor as I tore through the narrow hallway. But then— “Elisa.” His voice stopped me cold. I turned. Antonio Romano stood in the middle of the carnage, suit untouched, blood spattered behind him like art. His eyes were on me. And he was smiling. It was darker. Slower. Like a hunter seeing something worth chasing. Somehow, he knew who I was. “Interesting,” he said softly, tilting his head. “They sent you.” I didn’t answer. I ran. But that voice followed me. He knew my name. And he let me go. This wasn’t over. It had just begun.

Everything was going downhill. Caterina Mari Santelli is having trouble. At first she struggled to remember who the man in her hospital room was. Now, she doesn't exactly know if she loves him or hates him even more (the thought of planning a wedding to a man you hate isn't exactly inviting). She's also in distress knowing that her plans aren't going the way she planned. To add to her list of dilemmas, she's having PTSD and is afraid to even hold a gun, much more shoot one. Lucas De Marchi is just a dazed man walking. Something warm towards Caterina was building inside of him. He knows exactly what that feeling is and knows exactly how dangerous it is. But despite his efforts to stop his feelings, he always finds himself doing dirty business with her or for her. He's confused about Mari, and he's worried about his family and his sanity. To finally put that luscious cherry on top, Matteo Santelli, Caterina's uncle, has heard of her and Lucas' soon-to- be-wedding and is mad for being uninvited. Now the church doors are open. Only problem is, no one knows exactly if it's for a wedding or a funeral.

I’d just wrapped up a short trip with my daughter, Elara. On the way back, I figured I’d swing by the Hale, our family’s casino, to check in on my son, Cassian. Maybe grab dinner together. I didn’t expect to be mistaken for his latest fling. Correction: not mistaken—accused. Violently. “You think you can just waltz in here like some queen?” she hissed. “I’m the woman Cassian loves! What kind of whore are you? And is this your bastard daughter with him?” She locked us in the basement. No phone. No light. Just concrete walls and the stench of mildew and madness. Then came the fists. She slapped me across the face—again and again—until my skin stung and my ears rang. When that didn’t satisfy her, she pulled a gun and aimed low. The bullet tore through my knee. I bit back a scream, shielding Elara with my body. “You need to die, whore,” she spat. One of her men hesitated, “We should at least tell Mr. Hale first. If we are going to kill these two in his casino.” Lila of course said no. But that man brought Cassian anyway. My son stepped into this dark little room like it was any other Tuesday—until he saw me. His whole body went still. The blood drained from his face. And then, in the smallest, most broken voice I’d ever heard from him, he whispered, “Mom? What are you doing in my basement?”