Knuckles Crying Novelas e Histórias

•••[Excerpt]••• "Stop... Stop!" Rosana's voice quivered as tears of fright brimmed her vision. She had been crying for hours, but not because she was leaving the beautiful life she had planned with her fiance behind. She was crying because her newly wedded husband had tortured and murdered a man mercilessly on their wedding night. "Stop, please..." He ignored her. "No... Stop touching me. Take your bloody hands off me!" Indeed, his hands were covered with the blood of the man he had killed earlier. But he didn't care. "S... Stop touching me!" He grabbed her neck and she gasped, her eyes widening in shock. "You shouldn't make me do this on our wedding night, Bambolina. You are mine and I will take whatever I want, whenever I want, wherever I want, and however I want, till death do us part, Mi Amor" ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ Rosana Marcello was already living the life she had dreamt about. With her boyfriend-turned-fiance by her side, nothing could be more perfect. Some weeks before the wedding, she was called back home by her parents and welcomed with devastating news. She had been betrothed since when she was a little girl but never knew. Now, he has come to claim what is rightfully his. With or without her approval. He is deadly, He is evil, He is the ruthless Sergio De Niro, known by everyone. Rosana can't escape this. She can't run away from him because he will comb the world and kill everyone in it, just to find her. She is now his possession, his property. It's either she tames him and melts his cold heart or he breaks her into a thousand pieces. Will she succeed or get consumed by his burning hell?

Jennifer Smith was left at the altar, betrayed on live TV, her family ruined, her life destroyed. Pregnant. Humiliated. Broken. Then Adrian Hale stole her son and disappeared. Three years later, Jennifer isn’t crying anymore. She’s angry. She’s powerful. And she wants her child back no matter what ,she will burn them whoever comes in her way... With a dangerous ally at her side and revenge in her blood, she hunts Adrian down only to be captured, forced into marriage, and locked on his fortress island. He wants control. She wants blood. And love? Love might be the most fucked-up battlefield of all. Revenge and Obsession. A stolen child.This time, she won’t lose.

Everyone knew Peter was crazy about me. But five years into our marriage, he knocked up his mentor's daughter. Crying, Cindy grabbed his hand. "I won't let Yuna know." Peter just stared her down. "You'd better not. I'm only helping you because I owe your dad. Don't get any bright ideas." She had the baby on my birthday. Peter looked at the kid like he was already in love. Then Cindy, all smug, texted me: [Ms. Zander, don't you think my baby deserves a dad with a real title?] I signed the divorce papers and caught a flight to Hampsburg.

To protect my boyfriend, Nico, the illegitimate son of our allies, the Moretti family, from their internal power struggles, I agreed to leave New York with him. But on the eve of my adoptive father, the Don of the Falcone family, signing our transfer orders, he backed out. Through the hidden door of the cigar lounge, I heard his right-hand man tease him: "So you really kept up that act for three months just to get rid of the princess?" "But she's your childhood sweetheart. You really have the heart to some miserable fishing village in the Baltics all by herself?" Nico's voice was nonchalant. "It's just an outpost across the pond. How far can it be?" "Scarlett is too controlling. If I don't get her out of the picture, how am I supposed to get any breathing room? Besides, I need to put Chloe at ease." I stood behind that hidden door for a long time that night, my grip on the doorknob tightening until my knuckles were white, before I finally let go. I turned and walked away, pulling out my tablet to change my flight plan. I changed the destination from the official plan of that desolate Baltic outpost to a seat at the High Table in Sicily, which is the absolute center of old-world Mafia power. Everyone seemed to have forgotten. I am the princess of the Falcone family. And he is nothing but filth from the gutter. We were never a match.

On the eve of our wedding, Ellis Stewart threw a tantrum and hurled the wedding ring I had given her. I spent the entire night searching through the icy lake until my numb fingers finally closed around it. When I went to return the ring to her, I overheard her speaking with a close friend. “How many times have you toyed with Jonathan already? “It’s been three years since Gregory’s passing, and you still can’t forget him?” “If Jonathan hadn’t clung to me three years ago, begging me to pick him up, how could Gregory have died in that car accident?” Ellis replied coldly. “He’s the one who killed Gregory. Everything that happened was nothing but his own doing.” My knuckles whitened around the ring, and for an instant, it felt as though all the blood in my body had turned cold. So Ellis had never loved me at all. My unwavering devotion had been nothing more than a crucial piece of her revenge. In silence, I let the ring fall from my hand. Then I pulled out my phone. “Dad, Mom, I’ve figured things out. I agree to the marriage you’ve arranged. Let the wedding be in three days.”

My name is Elvira Rossi, daughter of Don Rossi, head of the Itavelle mafia family. Three months ago, my father was killed. Our operations were stripped bare, nothing left. The accounts were draining fast, and the family still had mouths to feed. Then a DNA report surfaced out of nowhere. According to it, I was the LaRosa family's long‑lost true heiress, missing for eighteen years. Money, at last, had found its way to me. For the sake of my people, I was willing to set aside my pride and play the part of a sheltered heiress. The car sent to escort me back to the estate broke down halfway up the mountain? I steadied it with one hand and carried it the rest of the way to the hilltop manor. The fake heiress dissolved into tears, accusing me of pushing her? I answered by striking the century-old tree in the courtyard, splitting it clean through. She went silent immediately. My fiancé sent bodyguards to "teach me self‑defense"? My two friends politely introduced them to the concept of being permanently embedded in a wall. As my so‑called "family" shook in fear, my knuckles cracked softly. After all, before inheriting the mafia, I inherited my father's favorite rule: "If violence can solve it, don't waste words."

My boyfriend Orion was the leading hunter of the Bright Moon Pack, who was sent on an S-class mission three years ago. Before he left, he told me to wait for his return, after which he would mark me. Holding him to his promise, I waited for over a thousand days, and he eventually did come back. I was delighted, but just ten days after I blissfully prepared for the marking ceremony, I overheard him speaking with his fellow hunters. "Are you sure you're going to mark Elara? What about Dahlia and Emery? Especially Emery—the pup's two years old and looks just like you. There's no hiding it at all." "Hell, the whole thing about a secret mission was a farce, to cover up for you hanging around for Emery's birth. If Elara knew the truth…" Orion shot his deputy a sharp glare right then. "Just tell Dahlia to keep her mouth shut and hide the pup. Elara's the only one for me." Dahlia? The pup? As it turned out, in those three years I was worried sick for him, he had a pup with another woman. My knuckles clenched, I returned to my room and called my father. "Dad, I want to go home."

My wife, wanting to spend a romantic birthday date with her first love, added a dose of sleeping medication to the milk bottle of our sick, crying daughter. The medicine took effect, and our daughter drifted into a deep sleep, which allowed them to enjoy a romantic, undisturbed date together. When I came home, I found our daughter still sleeping. By the time we arrived at the hospital, it was too late. I called my wife, but she answered with irritation. "Is it because I'm celebrating Shawn's birthday that you must ruin it? I'll go home after the celebration is over." Then, she turned off her phone. Little did she know that, for the sake of one romantic date, she had taken our daughter's life.

On her wedding day, she made the most daring decision. Instead of exchanging rings with her supposed groom, she made a live proposal to the city's richest man - Miguel Winslow, rejecting her groom - Daniel. It was a game of recklessness but if it meant escaping her cold family, and her groom whose true identity she has just found out, she doesn't mind not being careful. She is an heiress but has never been treated as one. Many know her as a crying doll and people would never have thought she could be an orchestrator of surprising plans to come. Surrounded with lies, will she ever drown in them as she tries to tame her rightful path? And will the man that never honors invitations but ended up in her ceremony somehow accept her sudden request? _At what expense?

My daughter, Tina, locked herself in her room, crying so hard her body shook. I pried the door open and saw that she was clutching a test paper that was torn to shreds and pieced back together. It was a math Olympiad selection test. She should have gotten a perfect score, but was given a score of zero instead. "Mom," she sobbed, "the teacher said 3x5 is not equal to 5x3; that it's taking shortcuts. She tore my paper up in front of everyone, revoked my eligibility for the competition, and told the whole class not to talk to me…" I looked at the deep red scratch marks on my daughter's wrist and immediately picked up the phone to call the principal. "What good does it do for your school's reputation to drive a kid who loves math to their breaking point?"