Mafia Boyfriend

A human. My mate? No. That wasn't right. Humans were weak. They were servants at best—slaves at worst. They didn't belong with us. They weren't made for love. I turned suddenly and slammed my fist into the stone wall beside me. The sharp crack of bone against stone echoed through the room. The boy had been dragged away, out of my sight, and I still felt the burn of his presence in my chest. My claws had already pushed out, sharp and uncontrollable. My eyes burned, the edges of my vision tinted red. The beast within me was on the edge of taking over. "He's nothing!" I roared to no one in particular. "He can't be my mate!"

เพราะความเข้าใจผิดของทอร์ช...ทำให้พริมโรสต้องตกอยู่ในฐานะทาสบำเรอของเขา

A single misstep, and the consequences were severe. I am Moxie Guerra, known to all who know me as a devil with the face of an angel. At the age of seventeen, I am a woman with high standards in every aspect of life. I insist on the best food, the most luxurious clothing, and when it comes to men, they must be extraordinarily wealthy, attractive, and well-known. Born to my father's mistress, who passed away after my birth, I am scorned by my father's second family. As the daughter of a mafia boss, I was brought up in a perilous environment. No one perceived me as patient or kind. Instead, I was feared, much like my father, which was my Achilles' heel. However, when I discovered that my father had arranged my marriage to the richest son in the country without my approval, my rebellious streak surfaced. I wasn't just the daughter of a mafia boss for appearances. I was as obstinate and egocentric as my father. I decided to flee to a place where my father would least expect me to be. I stopped at the nearest bar for some liquid courage before driving to my mother's hometown. It was a humble province, filled with trees and dirt roads, a stark contrast to my opulent lifestyle. But my survival was more crucial than my sophisticated tastes. However, my car broke down in the middle of a vast highway on the way there. Despite being inebriated, I managed to survive. A man in a black Hummer arrived and came to my aid. His smile was menacing and disconcerting.

Nakipaghiwalay si Kisses sa boyfriend niyang si Dashiel. High School pa lang naman kasi sila kaya hindi niya gaanong sineryoso ang kanilang relasyon. At matapos naman ang ilang taon simula ng mamatay ang kanyang ama, bigla na lang ini-announce ng kanyang ina na nag asawa na ulit ito. Ang masaklap pa roon, hindi niya inaasahan na ang napangasawa pala ng kanyang ina ay si Dashiel, na siyang Ex boyfriend niya... at ngayon ay Stepfather na niya!

Diane always thought to herself that if ever she had the chance to turn things around, will she do it? Or if she ever had the chance to run away from the start, will she run or stay? Truth is... Hindi niya alam. Maybe if she was asked to run away from the moment they had laid their eyes on each other, she would probably grab the chance to run away from him... from that scary, cold and heartless gaze. But why and how will she ever want to escape his cold gaze when she is already trapped in his warm heart?

On the day of Zephyr’s art exhibition, I saw people stand around a portrait of myself. My cheeks were flushed, and I was bare. My posture was the one we used in bed last week for fun. Zephyr even got the mole on my chest right. As people stared at me mockingly, I demanded, “Why did you do this to me?” He was unbothered. “It’s not as if I asked you to sleep with someone else.” But he did let people see how I looked when I was having an intimate moment with my own boyfriend! “It’s just a painting. Why are you being so petty?” I was stunned by the mockery in Zephyr’s gaze. Then, I called my assistant. “I’m attending the international art festival as the organizer.”

My boyfriend, Blake Finch, has passed out drunk on the bed. All I hear is his loud snores. But his roommate, Dylan Olson, begins to scoot closer to me. I can feel scorching heat rolling off his body. "Giselle, what should we do now that Blake is asleep?" A mix of embarrassment and a quiet thrill shoots through my veins, making my throat go dry. "No… Ah… Don't do this… He's going to wake up…" As soon as my voice falls, I feel a hand rest on my butt. Soon, it starts groping me.

In the third year the law firm was established, Claire Stone joined the firm as an assistant. From then on, my boyfriend started buying breakfast for her. My childhood friend also drove her to and from work. As for me, I became the wicked woman who bullied the newbie. The repeated disappointments made me decide to expel them from my life. So I agreed to a marriage contract with someone else, and while my boyfriend and childhood friend mocked me, I left the firm we had formed together. Later, they learned that they had been showering all their love and attention on a spy sent by a rival law firm. When they regretted their actions and asked me to go back to them, my husband sent them an invitation to our wedding.

Three days after my boyfriend’s adopted sister died a tragic death, I clutched a so-called "hush money" check in my hand and became an accomplice in everyone’s eyes. My boyfriend once knelt in the pouring rain to beg me, and his sister’s five-year-old daughter cried and begged me to testify, but I refused them both. Ten years later, when I was dying of cancer, my boyfriend had become a billionaire. The first thing he did upon returning to the country was to forcibly extract my memories, even though I would suffer endless pain. "Elara, you vain, heartless monster! Lily and I must have been blind to ever treat you like family!" "Lily has been dead for ten years, and you’ve been walking free with that dirty money the whole time!" "Today, I’m going to find out exactly who paid you off—the person you protected just for money!" My boyfriend held a press conference to publicly crucify me for my crimes. But after seeing the whole truth, he went completely insane.

My boyfriend and his godsister were caught by the vice squad at a scandalous party. When I went to the police station to bail him out, he was disheveled, his exposed skin marked with dried candle wax and whiplash scars. His godsister, Sonia, clung to him, sobbing into his arms. “The light in Sonia’s house was broken. It was too dark, so I went to accompany her,” he said. I couldn’t help but wonder, Did he accompany her all the way to the police station too? In the past, I would’ve demanded an explanation, but I was too tired now—too drained to argue. Without a word, I signed the papers. The vice squad officer looked at me and asked, “Are you Anthony Leeman’s family?” I shook my head. “No, I’m not familiar with him. Just a colleague.” Lowering my gaze, I typed out a message to my father: [I agree to get married. Give me three days, and I’ll marry him.]