Knife Drop

I had been in a secret relationship with my mafia boyfriend, Dante Castellano, for seven years. No public contact. No photos together. No proof I had ever stood by his side. He told me, "Once I'm powerful enough that no one dares touch you, I'll make it official." I believed him. The day before our seventh anniversary, I found a ten-carat diamond ring in his suit jacket. I cried with joy, thinking seven years of hiding were finally over. The next morning, I wore my most expensive dress and sprayed on the only perfume he had ever given me. I practiced my smile in the mirror, the one I would give when he proposed. Then, my phone lit up with a breaking news alert. [Breaking News: Seven-Year Love Story Reaches Perfect Ending—Romance Blogger Alessia Romano Accepts Boyfriend's 100th Proposal!] In the photo, the influencer with eight million followers stood on her tiptoes, kissing a man. His hand rested on the back of her neck. On that hand was a scar I would never mistake. It was the scar Dante got when he took a knife for me.

Some legacies welcome you home. Others sharpen a knife the moment you walk through the door. Hannah never asked to be a Black. But blood doesn't negotiate. Found after years of being lost, she barely had time to breathe before the truth came crashing in — the family she'd longed for didn't want her. Her siblings made sure she felt every inch of that. But nothing cut deeper than the discovery that only one of them could marry Lucas Bristo, heir to the Bristo empire. And her sister would kill to make sure it wasn't Hannah. The cruelest joke? Lucas — arrogant, insufferably charming, with eyes that pin her in place and a touch that sets her chest on fire — was never supposed to matter. Now he's the one thing she can't let go of. While Hannah fights for the love she never planned and the birthright that was always hers, her adopted sister and blood brother are already conspiring — their alliance soaked in secrets and something far more sinister. They want her gone. But Hannah Black didn't survive being lost just to be destroyed after being found.

"This is my first time... it hurts... oh, it’s bleeding..." Allie winced as a cut from the kitchen knife throbbed on her finger. Liam glanced at her, his face full of concern, and applied the medicine with a sharp, almost angry tone: "I’ve told you not to go near the kitchen! Just tell me what you want to eat, and I’ll make it for you!" For Allie, her 20th birthday gift was discovering her boyfriend's betrayal with her best friend in bed. Furious, she turned her back on Nick and married Liam Hart, the city’s most influential and untouchable man. From that moment, she faced endless challenges: Nick’s constant manipulations, Liam’s family scheming against her, and the toxic people in their lives. Everyone sees Liam as the perfect, doting husband—no one knows the price she pays for his love. Exhausted, Allie faced Liam one night, her voice trembling with frustration: "Liam Hart, you are a monster in disguise." Liam, looking hurt, replied with a soft grin, “You wound me, darling. How could I possibly be a monster when I’m the one who’s supposed to protect you?”

Kai writes the truth no one wants to hear. Especially not about Jax—the untouchable alpha captain who owns the rink and everyone’s attention. Kai’s articles tear Jax apart, call out the ego, the dirty hits, the way he plays like the world owes him. Jax should hate him. Instead, he watches. Remember. Because four years ago, one drunken night at a party locked them in a room, and Kai walked away pretending it never happened. Jax never forgot. Now the pull is back—violent, quiet, impossible to shake. Jax corners him, crowds him, makes him feel it all over again. But Milo’s there too—the steady defenseman who’s loved Kai silently since freshman year, who knows exactly what happened that night and did nothing. One secret could burn the team down. One choice could burn Kai down. In a world where the ice is thin and loyalty fractures, love isn’t clean—it’s a blade. And someone’s going to bleed. ***************** Trigger Warning: ‘Dark romance for mature readers only. Contains dubious consent, captivity, degradation, choking, knife play, violence, blackmail, and heavy emotional trauma. All characters are adults. Purely fictional.”

I was once the most respected female intelligence officer in the underworld. I controlled black market trade, port lockdowns, and risk assessments for every smuggling route. These were the basics every new recruit learned on their first day in the Mafia. But my intel was never reliable. As time went by, everyone caught on. In this city, whether the ports were locked down or open for business didn't depend on intel. It depended on whether Vincenzo's childhood friend was in a bad mood. I had just sent an order over the family's secure channel: "Level-one lockdown. All shipping routes are closed." A moment later, the ports were thrown wide open. My rival mocked me in front of everyone. "Isabella's supposed to be the queen of underworld intelligence, isn't she? What happened, did she lose her touch?" Other family members twisted the knife without a second thought. "Her husband changes the rules at a word from his precious Amelia. Who's going to listen to her anymore?" "She's on the hook for any losses from this. That route reopening is going to bankrupt her!" I clutched a stack of formal censures from the family. I said nothing. It didn't matter. I was done being a pawn in their games. Soon, I would be gone for good.

Seven years ago, I turned my back on my powerless fated mate, Soren, and chose a powerful Alpha instead. Now, I’m dying alone in this shitty apartment with seven days to live. The Moon's Glow is fading inside me. Without the Final Rite, my soul will be chained to this earth, a ghost doomed to an eternity of torment. And no Alpha will perform it for me. Coughing up another mouthful of blood, I dialed the one number I swore I’d never touch again. Soren. The mate I rejected. Now, the most powerful Alpha in the North. I begged him for the Final Rite. Moments later, his engine screamed down my street. But the boy I once knew was gone. The man staring back at me now held nothing but pure, undiluted hatred in his eyes. "Well, well. Look what we have here," he sneered, his voice dripping with venom. "The fallen princess. When are you going to finally drop dead? The second your heart stops, I’m dumping your corpse in the Feral Lands for the scavengers."

“Next time I see you, I’m not letting you walk away.” The stranger said as Nova wiped his cum off her lips. Nova was a quiet, shy, and bookish girl… also very innocent. At least, that’s what everyone thought. Until one filthy game of truth or dare in an exclusive club stripped away her innocence and left her kneeling in the dark… mouth full of a stranger’s thick cock, swallowing every drop of his release without ever knowing his name. She fled after he finished. But he didn’t forget and neither did she. And the next day, when she followed her best friend to her father’s luxurious estate for his 45th birthday dinner, she locked eyes with the last man she expected to see— The man she gave head to the night before. Her best friend’s dad. Now he knows. Now he wants her. And Nova’s filthy little secret? She wants him too.

I was the top bounty thief in the organization. The best they had. After turning in my final score, I announced on the spot that I was done for good. Then, I stood in my studio, blending paint. A single photograph was pinned to the wall before me. Black Viper filled the doorway, the light behind him casting his face in shadow. "What's it like," he asked quietly, "pretending to be an artist?" He stepped further inside. "Does paint smell better than blood?" I placed the palette knife down and wiped my hands slowly. "I'm done. I walked away." "Old Fox didn't approve of it." "That's not my concern." Black Viper crossed the room and tapped the old photograph on the wall. "Are you certain?" I did not want to look. I told myself not to. However, my gaze shifted anyway. A young boy stared back from the photo. "The blind kid?" I had spent ten years searching for him. "Where is he?" I moved toward the wall, reaching to rip the picture down. "One last job," Black Viper said, pressing his palm against the photo. My hand stopped in midair. "What's the target?" "The final lot at next month's auction that the Gilbert Group will be holding. "It's called Mermaid's Tear."

In my last life, I was kidnapped alongside the fake heiress, Lilith Howe, at the same time. My father, the richest man in the country, claimed he had to prove his impartiality. Without a second thought, he told the police to rescue Lilith first and refused to pay a ransom for me. In front of the cameras, he declared with solemn conviction, "A daughter of the Howes must have backbone. We will never give in to criminals!" Lilith returned without a single scratch, and the internet crowned her a miracle girl. Meanwhile, I was killed by the kidnappers. There was barely anything left of me to bury. As my soul hovered above the scene, I watched my brother sneer at what little remained. "Good," he said. "At least she won't come back and be an eyesore to Lilith. We'll finally have some peace in the house." When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment the kidnappers called with their demands. A knife was pressed against my throat. On the other end of the line, my father's voice was just as cold, just as absolute. "I'm not choosing. My money belongs to charity. If she's a Howe, she should be ready to sacrifice for the family." I laughed. If he was willing to destroy his own flesh and blood for the sake of so-called honor, then this time, I would grant them a reunion in hell!

This is a dark mm romance with dub-con/CNC, blood play, knife play, robe play, light bdsm, kidnapping of MMC, torture, murder and possessive behavior. If you have any of these triggers, please do not continue. This book is only suitable for readers over 18. Contains graphic sexual scenes, bad language and unprotected intercourse. The last place expected to see my last hookup was at my mother's wedding and worse, he's my new stepbrother. My mother and his father hoped we would get along, how do I tell them we have gotten along just not in the way they think? Extract: “Fratello,” he murmured, his lips curling into that maddening grin. “What?” My chest tightened. “That’s your safe word,” he said. “Say it once, and everything stops. I won’t touch you again. From that moment, I’ll only ever treat you as my stepbrother.” Even as he spoke, his hand gripped me, and I gasped, trembling. My body betrayed me, responding in ways I hated and craved all at once. “Until you say that word,” he whispered, eyes dark with something between amusement and hunger, “you’re mine. Mine, brother.”