Kill Him With A Kiss

Meet the Assassin that became The Mafia Boss who's in love to a Nerd in a long time. Epic Love story!

I was five months pregnant when my husband, James Fletcher, allowed his mistress to invade our lives—on the very night of our wedding anniversary. But she didn’t just come to flaunt her presence. She came to take my life. Pregnant and vulnerable, I confronted her, desperately clinging to my dignity. But the fight ended with me tumbling down the staircase, my swollen belly crashing against the cold, hard ground. Blood seeped across the floor, vivid and unrelenting. James only arrived after hearing about his precious mistress’ ordeal. He stood there, staring at the pool of blood, at my broken body. But instead of helping me, he rushed to her side. She had nothing but a few superficial scratches, yet he swept her off to the hospital like she was the one dying. By the time he returned, my child was gone. The doctors barely managed to save me. And what did James do? He struck me in front of everyone, his words sharper than the sting of his hand. "Lisa only wanted to bring you a Christmas gift, and you attacked her out of nowhere! You shameless witch!" “She didn’t force her way in! What nonsense! I gave her the house key ages ago. You just can’t stand that she’s prettier and kinder than you!" “You didn’t just hurt her. You killed my child! You vile, despicable woman. Why couldn’t it have been you instead?” Lisa stood beside him, pretending to comfort him while flashing me a smug, victorious smirk. James’s vicious tirade didn’t stop there. He dragged my name onto the internet, painting me as a monster.

I'm admitted to the hospital for gastritis, but my boyfriend shoots to his feet after receiving a call. "Chelsea has a fever. I'll go check on her; I'll be right back!" He runs off without waiting for me to say anything and doesn't return for the rest of the night. That night, I see a short clip that Chelsea Calloway has shared. "I'm not afraid of any illness with you by my side." I comment, "He is pretty good at caring for others."

A young woman, who lived with her aunt after her parents died, found herself in the brothel. That day the most reputable Prince of Uruk was present. After a promise he had told her, he slept with her and the next day was gone. little did they know that she carried the heir to the throne of Larsa.

WARNING: **This story is about a love so forbidden and a passion so intense, it might just burn you. Consider yourself warned.** ____ "Lucian shouldn’t have been near you,” he growled, his voice rough velvet. “I told them you’re under my protection. Under me.” ___ He is Manhattan’s most ruthless CEO. Cold. Powerful. Untouchable. But behind the sharp suits and devilish smirk hides a secret darker than the night itself— Joachim Knight is a vampire. When Yvette, a scandal-chased celebrity agent, crashes into his world, she expects another arrogant billionaire with too much money and no soul. What she finds instead is danger wrapped in seduction, a man who makes the air crackle with heat every time he’s near. His kiss burns like fire. His touch feels like sin. And his possessive words leave her trembling: "You’re mine, Yvette. Under my protection. Under me." But the more she craves him, the more she discovers the monstrous truth he hides— and the blood-soaked secrets that could ruin them both. In a world of lies, power, and forbidden hunger, will she resist the Devil’s kiss… or surrender to the dark passion of a 570 year old vampire who would destroy anyone who dares to touch her?

My girlfriend keeps saying that she comes from a poor family, but she gives her childhood sweetheart a yacht on our anniversary. I text her to ask about this, but all she does is berate me. "Who do you think you are? How dare you stick your nose into my business! I'll give anyone whatever I want. My money, my call. Get lost!" Unbeknownst to her, I'm covered in blood on the other end of the line.

My boy friend Caleb Ford's childhood sweetheart, Julia Leclair, is losing her hair from chemotherapy. So, he orders me to cut mine off and make her a wig. "Julia's allergic to synthetic wigs. You've been growing your hair for ten years—it's perfect." I refuse, but his friends tie me down. Someone shaves my head to the scalp, buzzing through my thick, glossy hair until nothing's left but a butchered mess. Julia sits in her wheelchair and laughs, saying I look like a toad. Caleb smiles and nods in agreement. He adds with a chuckle, "It's just some hair. Was that really necessary?" But back when I was bullied for having uneven, choppy short hair for six straight years, it was he who stood in front of me. He had his arms spread wide as he shielded me from harm. Now he's the one wielding the blade. One by one, their little circle chimes in. They tell me not to hold a grudge against someone who's sick. Caleb snaps impatiently, "Stop trying to talk sense into her. She can get lost! Did you see that fit she threw over a few strands of hair? It's not like they won't grow back." I turn around and walk away. I never look back. Later, I hear that Caleb begs for my forgiveness by kneeling his way up 9000 steps until his knees are ruined.

From a campus romance to marriage, Dominic Fleming had always believed he led a perfect life. His wife, Isabella Sinclair, was dazzlingly beautiful. Their daughter, Lilith, was sweet and obedient. Dominic sometimes told himself he must have been a saint in a past life to deserve such happiness. Everything began to change the moment Isabella's so-called "sworn brother," Alexander Grant, entered their lives. Alex's name appeared more and more often, and it crept into every corner of their marriage. For Lilith's sake, Dominic endured the strain again and again until the day of the accident. As he lay on the operating table with his life hanging by a thread, Isabella was not at his side—she was with Alexander instead. That was the moment Dominic's heart finally turned cold. So why did Isabella regret it? She knelt with Alexander, who likewise barely clung to life, and wept as she begged Dominic for forgiveness. "Dom, I know I was wrong. Let's get married again. I will make him kneel and beg you for forgiveness," Isabella said. "Scram," Dominic replied. Isabella nodded eagerly. "Fine. I will throw him out right now!" "Get the fuck out too!" Dominic barked.

In the third year of our marriage, my wife’s ex-boyfriend of eight years suddenly posted a picture on social media showing off a multi-million-dollar wedding house. His caption read: “Wow, got myself a huge villa, I’m the master of charming women!” I stared in shock at the picture, which showed my wife swiping her card at a sales office, and left a single comment: "?" A second later, my wife called to scold me. “I was just fulfilling a promise I made to him back when we were dating, buying him a house. Why are you getting mad at him?” “What? Are you really going to be so vicious as to force me to break my word?” That evening, her ex showed off another lavish post, this time flaunting a renovation bill worth hundreds of thousands. I knew it was a gift from my wife to please him. But by then, I no longer cared.

At my engagement banquet, a student sponsored by my fiancé sneaked drugs into a wine glass. To save my meticulously planned event, I quietly had a servant replace the glass. But then, the student and a notorious playboy had a scandalous encounter. A video leaked. Her reputation was ruined, and she jumped to her death. Then my refined fiancé forced me to kneel at her grave and tortured me to death with drugs. Only then did I learn she was his lifelong love. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the engagement banquet.