Kindred Table Restaurant

All the hopes of saving her marriage from crumbling, crashed down for Madeline when her husband, Damien Rosewood gifted her divorce papers on their third wedding anniversary. She failed to give his prestigious family an heir. He accused her of the sins she never committed. Heartbroken and abandoned, she vowed to take back what she lost, her love, her husband. Three years later, she returned as the surrogate of his babies. The table was turned. Madeline had an upper hand over her ex-husband and his family. Slowly, he realized what he had lost and how challenging it will be for him to win her back.

Tetzuki Naver pretended to be an average guy to hide from his parents and abandoned his throne being as the Mafia King. But he worked on an organization that had a great intention on the city he\'s living in. And become friends with his team. But because one of his friends made a deal. He somewhat finds himself roaming around the city and lays his eyes on the restaurant that finds a waiter/waitress. He thought that his life at the restaurant where he would work would be usual. Until he met Thea, he felt something in himself. Strange, frightening, fierce, and destructive. Can Naver tear it down and hide it? Or willing to be deficient in front of others, especially his boss Thea?

Due to Asher's desperation, Alessia—who has been cursed with eternal life as payback for an awful sin—unexpectedly finds herself entwined in her destiny with the well-known restaurant owner. Even though their situations are different, they manage to create a special bond that is envied, and Alessia starts to see recollections of her past. Nevertheless, the threads of their seemingly flawless union come undone as Asher is forced to make a decision that will change his entire existence in order to save her. Alessia's long-awaited punishment finally arrives on the fatal day she learns the truth about her cursed immortality, connecting them both to an unavoidable destiny in a moving story of love, sacrifice, and the unwavering power of fate.

He slid a paper across the table, his eyes cold. " Sign it." She blinked, confused. "Why?" "It’s our marriage certificate." He spoke as if discussing the weather. "I’ve already signed it. Your turn." Siya froze. **Marriage?** To a man like him? Her? A whore. Pregnant. She looked up at him, pleading. "I-I can be your maid. Do anything. Just… don’t hurt my baby." Her voice trembled, careful, trying to bargain with the devil himself. But Abhimanyu’s gaze was relentless, unmoved. His tone cut like ice. "I want you to sign it right now." Her heart hammered in her chest. "But… how… why me?" She stuttered, breaking. "I don’t want to marry you." She stood, defiance shaking her body. The word **marriage** tasted like ash, reminding her of someone she loathed beyond reason. Abhimanyu leaned in, his smile devoid of warmth. "You **will** marry me. Or…" The room fell silent, thick with the unspoken threat. **The world knows** what he is capable of. "Plea.se," she whispered. Her voice was barely a breath. Siya’s legs screamed to run. But there was nowhere to go. His voice low, lethal. "Listen to me, TweetyBird. If I can save you, I can ruin you too.' His eyes darkened. "Sign it. And you’ll be mine." "Why me?" Her voice broke. ************ Siya laid on the bed on her fours, her hands tied together with a handcuff as Abhimanyu thrusted slowly from her back. He changed their position making her completely under his mercy. As the sun rose in the sky, he uncuffed her. "Scream my name!" He groaned going faster than before. But his pace didn’t slacken at all. He had turned into a needy beast, who was ruining every ounce of sanity left in Siya. *********** ***********

I stretched lazily on the bed, much like a contented kitten, before opening my eyes. Hovering above me was a face that could have been sculpted by the gods—a handsome, well-defined face with sun-kissed golden eyes. My first groggy thought was that Cara had finally brought home a decent, well-groomed man for a change. But…. Why is he in my room? I abruptly shoved him away, ending the spell. "Get off your asshole!" With a scowl on my face, I got up quickly. “Was personal space not mentioned by Clara, huh?” I spoke in an irritated tone. “Clara?” He turned and casually picked up some papers from a nearby table, settling down with an annoying smile. “And who might that be, if I may ask?” He doesn’t even remember her? Asshole “Well, if you must know, Clara—” I started, but my words faltered as something shiny caught my eye. What is..? Then my memories began to flood back. —it’s a damn golden sofa. Shit. Brain Freeze. ~~~ Growing up as the oldest kid on a Chicago farm was no picnic for Mary Johnson. Her folks, good ol' Mr. and Mrs. Becky Johnson, were salt-of-the-earth types, who worked hard on their small farm not far from the gritty backstreets of Chicago. They taught Mary and her siblings the value of hard work, self-value. But as much as Mary loved her family, she dreamed big, but those dreams took a backseat when she needed to step up and help support her family. Then, out of the blue, fate threw her a curveball. A chance in the US came knocking, and Mary didn't hesitate. And then she crossed paths with the Blacks – New York’s high society, dripping with wealth and power, who offered her a deal she couldn’t refuse.

DARK ROMANCE | EROTIC | VENGEANCE (Not suitable for sensitive person) " Don't worry, Cupcake. Everything is halal when it comes to us. " He twisted the hair string which was kissing her face. Sort of jealousy maybe. " Even if I f**k you here. " He patted the counter behind her. " On the counter. Or on the floor. Or the table of the shop, or the cash counter of the shop. My touch. " He was scanning her pale face when his back of finger caressed her soft and red cheek. " My desire for you. My intention towards you. Nothing is wrong.." Slap! After a hard sound, his words cut off and silence swathed the whole shop along with the kitchen. What will happen when her blind eyes see the wrath of his darkness? Will his obsession tarnish her soul? Will she see the color of the love she was promised?

“Can I know why I have been kidnapped, sir ?” She questioned in a low, but daring voice. “First of all, you weren’t kidnapped. You were sold off, so it’s merely a transaction.” He replied to her, standing from his seat to lean on his table. Drey’s sexual tension skyrocketed up in the air, and he almost couldn’t control himself at that moment. In his mind, he was groping her and having another round of hot sex right there on his work table, however, he was determined to make her life miserable for having the audacity to forget him and the amazing night they had just shared. He leaned further, and missed her lips by an inch going straight to her ears to whisper “Welcome to your worst nightmare.” The whisper sent shivers down Marie’s spines and her stomach churned from the proximity between her and the piece of art in front of her, and his strong thick voice resounding in her ears. After a one-night stand with the biggest Mafia boss in the state, unknowing Marie gets sold off to that same Mafia empire, and her once quiet life gets shaken up by a smoking hot man, violence, drugs and a surprise baby.

As I gazed into his eyes, I couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity, as if I had known him for years. "There's something about you," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Something that draws me to you." He smiled, revealing a set of perfect teeth. "I feel it too," he said, his voice low and melodic. "It's like we were meant to meet." I couldn't deny the electricity that coursed through me as he spoke, and I found myself leaning closer to him, wanting to feel his warmth. "Who are you?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. He chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "I'm just a guy," he said. "But I've been told that I have a certain charm." I couldn't help but laugh at his modesty, knowing full well that he was more than just a guy. He had an aura about him, a sense of confidence and self-assurance that was both intimidating and alluring. As we continued to talk, I found myself opening up to him, sharing things that I had never told anyone before. It was like he was a confidant, someone that I could trust with my deepest secrets. And as we parted ways, I knew that I had met someone special. He was more than just a guy, he was a kindred spirit, a soulmate that I had been searching for all my life.

In the late stages of her pregnancy, my wife slipped away into the mountains with her childhood sweetheart, seeking some reckless thrill under the open sky. Fate, however, had other plans. She suffered a massive hemorrhage, and the two were rushed to the hospital. As a doctor, I took one glance at her condition and instructed the nurse to prepare for the cremation. In my previous life, I had risked everything to save her. On that very operating table, she and the child inside her perished together. Her childhood sweetheart, overcome with grief and fury, rallied others to accuse me of seeking personal revenge. Their rage was relentless, and they broke my hands. "A butcher like you, without medical ethics, deserves nothing less than eternal damnation!" they shouted, their words burning like brands on my soul. Yet I distinctly remembered—the surgery had been a success. Her vital signs had stabilized. Clinging to hope, I begged my in-laws to conduct an autopsy, to uncover the truth buried beneath the accusations. Instead, they called the police, who swiftly charged me with performing surgery under the influence of alcohol. Stripped of my rights, I was thrown into prison, where suffering became my only companion. Years later, upon release, I stumbled across a sight that tore what was left of my heart to shreds—my wife, alive and well, behind the wheel of a luxury car, accompanied by her childhood sweetheart and their child, living off the fortune I had worked tirelessly to build. Their betrayal didn't end there. Coldly and methodically, they lured me into a trap, casting me into a cement mixer to erase every trace of my existence. When I next opened my eyes, time had rewound itself. I was back on that fateful day, the one when her hemorrhage began.

Napaangat ng tingin si Kylie sa isang lalaking sobrang pamilyar sa kanya at hinding-hindi niya makakalimutan ang itsura. His intense and brooding gaze was directed at her as he made his way to a two seater table just a few steps away from where she was sitting. Nakatalikod sa gawi niya ang lalaking kasama at kaharap nito sa table kaya ang inupuan nito ay nakaharap sa direksyon niya. Ang bilis ng takbo ng tibok ng puso niya ay maikukumpara na yata sa isang taong hinahabol ng kabayo. She tried to calm her nerves and her emotions, but it seemed like the sight of him was enough to make her catch her breath. That's when she realized that she could couldn't calm herself this time no matter how much she tried. Jake Ezekiel Cornejo, the father of her son, was just a few steps away from her. How the fuck would she be able to calm down?