Marble Floors Lyrics Novels & Stories

VINDEL THE BILLIONAIRE'S SPOILED DAUGHTER SUMMARY Vindel Holt had everything. Beauty, wealth, privilege—and the world at her feet. As the only surviving child of the Holt lineage, granddaughter of Guerrero Holt, the legendary billionaire founder of Agro One Apex, she was destined to inherit an empire that spanned continents. But privilege had spoiled her, arrogance had defined her, and manners had never mattered. Until the day her grandfather decided that being a princess wasn’t enough. In one cruel decision, Guerrero Holt froze her accounts, revoked her luxuries, and threw her out of the mansion. Overnight, Vindel went from a life of effortless power to a world where her name and money carried no weight. She found herself dismissed from every job she tried, mocked by staff, and forced to face the harsh reality she had never known. Her pride bruised, her fury uncontained, Vindel is thrust into the real world, and it is far less forgiving than she ever imagined. With no money, no servants, and no protection, Vindel is forced to navigate the world she once ruled from afar. From being mocked in luxury hotels to sleeping in cramped motels, every encounter humbles her, and every challenge teaches her lessons she never wanted to learn—respect, humility, and resilience. Yet, her fiery spirit refuses to be tamed. She lashes out, curses, destroys, and fights, proving that surrender is never an option for her. Amidst the struggle, Vindel discovers people who refuse to bow to her name, including the enigmatic Zayden, a man who sees past her wealth and refuses to be intimidated. As she works her way up from cleaning floors to learning the value of hard work, unexpected bonds form, transforming anger into passion, and arrogance into desire.

“The surgery starts in thirty minutes. Your heart matches Hazel perfectly - don’t be late.” For three agonizing years, Penelope played the quiet, obedient Omega in the Blue-Claw Pack, scrubbing floors like a servant while her billionaire husband, Julian, threw money at her to buy her absolute silence. She took the brutal degradation out of love for her fated mate , hiding a secret: she is actually the hidden Crown Princess of the Lycan King, possessing a latent genetic power capable of forcing ordinary Alphas to their knees. But when Julian demands she surrender her physical heart to save his scheming mistress, the invisible tether breaks. Penelope signs the ancient dissolution scroll , severing the fated bond with silver fire , and walks out into the freezing night - igniting an impending war between her royal lineage and the pack that dared to treat a queen like property. Bound by a cruel fated bond , Penelope became a broken shadow in a household that despised her, trading her royal crown for the soot and heavy labor of a low-ranking maid. She endured the icy, indifferent commands of Julian , the ruthless Alpha heir. While he spent his evenings enveloped in the desperate, manipulative pheromones of another woman , Penelope suppressed her own sovereign Lycan spirit , letting her hands bleed in silence just to ease the burden. Julian treated their marriage like a business contract , unaware that his "helpless Omega" bride was merely a substitute identity designed to escape the suffocating duties of the royal palace. The catch? While the Blue-Claw Pack attempted to freeze her bank accounts and strip her of every coin to force her submission , Penelope had never spent a single credit point of Julian’s wealth - her true financial and sovereign power remained completely locked behind the impenetrable borders of the Rogue King's domain.

On the day that was supposed to be my wedding—the bride wasn’t me. The ceremony I’d waited for five years for turned into a joke when Valentina, my sister, walked down the marble aisle in a white wedding dress. Her arm was linked with Luca’s — the man who was supposed to be waiting for me at the altar. “I’m sorry, Bianca,” she said softly. “But you are no longer the bride today.” Then she touched her stomach, eyes gleaming with triumph. “I’m pregnant with Don Romano’s child.” Her words detonated inside my skull, and the whole world went silent. As if afraid I wouldn’t believe her, she lifted something glossy up towards the light. A black-and-white ultrasound image. It read clearly: Gestational age — 12 weeks. My eyes burned, tears stinging as I turned to Luca, desperately searching for anything—a denial, an explanation, regret. Instead, he only sighed, weary and resigned. “Bianca, I’m sorry.” he said helplessly. “Valentina doesn’t have much time left. This wedding… it was her last wish.” “I’ll make it up to you,” he added. “We can have another wedding later.” My father, Moretti, stood behind him, wearing the same stern expression he’d worn my entire life. I have never seen him smile at me, not even once. “Bianca,” he said sharply, “Your sister is dying. Let her have this.” My brother nodded without saying a single word, as if that was enough to be a solid answer. All my life, they had chosen her—her tears, her whims, her needs—over mine. Today was no different. Something inside me quietly cracked. Fine. If no one in this family cares about me, I’ll leave.

They don't remember her name. That's fine. She remembers everything. Sera Ashveil has spent four years being the most forgettable wolf in Ironveil Pack. Lowest rank. Smallest room. First one awake, last one anyone looks at. She scrubs floors before dawn and swallows Moonveil root with her morning water and counts exits in every room she enters. She's not surviving. She's waiting. She doesn't know what she's waiting for. Until the night Alpha Caius stops mid-ceremony, turns toward the back wall where Omegas stand, and says two words that crack four years of careful invisibility straight down the middle. "You. Come here." And then the stranger arrives. He comes with no pack, no rank, no explanation. Just gold eyes that find her in a crowd like she's the only thing worth finding, and a stillness that makes every wolf in the room step back without knowing why. He doesn't speak to her. He doesn't have to. Her wolf — silent for so long Sera had almost stopped listening — wakes up for the first time in years and says one word. Not his name. Not a welcome. Just: *Run.* Sera doesn't run. She never runs. But the stranger doesn't leave either. And the questions he carries — about her scent, her blood, the thing inside her that has no name in any pack record — are the same questions that got her mother killed four years ago. Someone erased Sera's kind from history. Someone is still making sure they stay erased. She thought she was the last of nothing. She was wrong about that. She was wrong about him too. "The Alpha's Forgotten Omega" is a dark wolf romance about a girl who was written out of the story —and the war she starts when she picks up the pen.

His fingers were already at the lace between my thighs when he pushed me against the marble vanity, breath hot, voice darker than sin, his arousal pressing against my throbbing core. "Open your legs for me, Mrs Valentino." He didn’t wait. He plunged into me roughly, his mouth trailing down my neck like he owned it. I hated the way my body arched for him. I hated even more that he smirked when it did. I was supposed to be terrified, not trembling for the man who forced a ring onto my finger two days after abducting me. Before Dante Valentino touched me like that... before he whispered filth and promises into my ears, I was Valentina Morrison: a quiet girl, psychology graduate, volunteer counselor blissfully unaware that my entire life was a lie. I didn’t know the truth about my parents. I didn't know my bloodline belonged to a mafia empire that their hands were filled with blood. I only knew one thing the night I witnessed a murder in a Manhattan alley and it was that I was going to die...until he showed up. Dante, the most feared Italian boss in New York. He was ruthless and calculating. He didn't save me, he claimed me. Only because I’m not just some civilian. I'm the last surviving Castellano heir, the one piece of leverage that can rewrite the entire underworld. So Dante forced a marriage to protect me. To control me. To bind me to him in pleasure and law. And somewhere between running from gunfire and running from him, I made the worst mistake possible: I let the devil touch me. I let his hands teach my body a language my mind despises but my body craves. I let him explore me.

Lena Marchetti, twenty-eight, operates on fumes. Her father Marco's cancer treatments have swallowed her savings and the final credits of her degree. She interns at Croft Industries, a glass tower engineered to diminish. She is invisible, sweat gluing her blouse to her spine, until she drops Julian Croft's Montblanc pen. The crack on marble halts breath. She scrabbles on cold stone. When she lifts her chin, Julian crouches beside her. He doesn't retrieve the pen. He waits. His gray eyes hold hers, and heat floods her neck, damp and unwelcome. "You break it, you buy it," he says. "And you can't afford it." He leaves her kneeling. At 3:17 AM, her phone blares: Croft. Office. One hour. She goes. His office smells of leather and ozone. He slides a contract across the desk. Six months. Exclusivity. Her compliance. In exchange, her father's debt dissolves. Her signature slants, barely legible. After her best friend Dani labels Julian a sociopath, Lena sobs in the service elevator. He finds her. "Come with me." He escorts her to a 24-hour diner. He orders cherry pie, slides it across formica. She is wrecked—blotched skin, swollen lids. He studies her as if memorizing the topography of her distress. He teaches her to fence. She lunges, jabs his ribs. He laughs in that rusted, startled way that travels up her calves. She registers: I manufactured that sound. Elara Vance, Julian's former mentor who sold his first deal for a board seat, resurfaces. She invites Lena to lunch, offers employment. "He'll never perceive you as an equal. Work for me. Become a threat." The words burrow. Lena's palms dampen at his touch. While Julian travels, she picks the lock of a hidden room. A library.

He was hired to guard the boss’s daughter. I’m that daughter… and I’m dying to fuck my own bodyguard. His thick cock slammed into me again and again, stretching me so deep I saw stars. I was bent over the marble counter in the safe house, dress shoved up to my waist, his huge hand fisted in my hair as he fucked me like he hated how much he needed me. “What do you think your dad would do if he catches us here?” Arnold growled against my ear, voice dark and filthy, never slowing his punishing rhythm. I chuckled through a broken moan, pushing back to take him harder. “I’m his one and only princess. He won’t do a thing to me. As for you… he’ll hang you alive and watch until the last drop of your blood dries.” I smirked, trying to mask how dizzy he made me. Then he whispered fearlessly, “I know the rules, but I don’t care.” ______ My name is Dorla De Luca. I’m twenty one. I was almost kidnapped, and my mafia father decided the only way to protect his only daughter was to assign his most trusted and most dangerous bodyguard to watch me 24/7. He never expected that bodyguard to be the man I’ve been secretly craving since I was eighteen. Arnold Black Russo is thirty two, cold, lethal, and bound by a blood oath to my father. Loving him is suicide. My father would put a bullet between his eyes without blinking. Yet every stolen touch, every forbidden night, only makes the fire burn hotter. He was hired to guard me. Instead, he’s ruining me. And I never want him to stop.

“Let me see how much of a virgin you are. Let me know how quiet you can be when I tear your cunt apart.” And I almost called him, “Bastard!” He doesn’t need legs to break you. He doesn’t need your voice to own you. Ivan Petrov is the Don of the Bratva Sever, ruthless, calculating, and far more dangerous than the wheelchair he uses as a mask. Once a husband. Still a father. But love died with his wife. When Vanya is traded like cheap cargo to settle her father’s debts, she’s thrown into his cold, luxurious cage. A mute girl with ghosts in her eyes and fire she can’t speak. He sees her as another pawn sent to spy, another toy to shatter. He doesn’t want a wife. He wants to rip her silence apart. To force those virgin thighs wide, to make her body betray every secret she can’t voice, to watch her shatter on his cock while she claws at the truth she’s not allowed to scream. She thought marriage would be her prison. He intends to make her his favorite obsession: his fucktoy, his slut. In a world of blood-stained marble, poisoned secrets, and a Don who hides his strength like a loaded gun, one silent girl is about to learn exactly how loud her body can get when the beast decides to play. Will Vanya’s silence save her… or will Ivan drag screams she never knew she had straight from her throat? Viewer Discretion Advised 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🔞🔞 ☠️ Dark mafia romance. Intense power, forced proximity, virgin breaking, degradation, and raw explicit filth. Heavy on the heat, 10% plot. Not for the soft-hearted. Enter Ivan Petrov’s world only if you’re ready to get wrecked.

I stumbled over my own feet as he shoved me through the doorway, barely catching myself before I hit the polished marble floor. A gasped escaped my mouth as I straightened up, eyes wide as they scanned the unfamiliar surroundings. Or should I say - a mansion, everything about it screamed wealth, power and danger. I blinked rapidly, trying to push back those tears, smearing them away with my shoulder because my hands were bound tightly in front of me. The ropes bit into my skin, a cruel reminder that this wasn’t a nightmare. It was my new reality. “Welcome to my world, princess,” he said, voice like velvet over broken glass. ---- Lewis. The name alone makes my stomach churn. The man I once thought I loved. The one who walked into my life with a smile, too perfect and eyes too deceptive. At first, he was everything I ever wanted. Until he became everything I feared. He didn’t just hurt me, he broke me. And just when I thought there was no way out of his twisted love, his brother appeared. Like a storm. I thought I saw a savior in him. But I couldn’t have been more wrong. I never sought his attention. I never wanted his eyes on me. But he gave it anyway unrelenting, consuming, obsessive. He didn’t offer me freedom from Lewis. He offered me a different kind of captivity. One laced with soft touches and sharp edges. One that didn’t hurt my skin, but carved into my soul. He stole my sanity with his silence, my breath with his gaze, and my heart with his wickedness. I was a puppet of two devils - one who broke me openly, and the other who worshipped my broken pieces like treasures he owned.

My cousin, Sonia Sanders, only trusts OmniGo Maps, or OmniGo, for everything. While waiting for the bus during a trip, the bus that we are supposed to get on pulls into the station. However, Sonia grabs my arm and says, "Amanda, OmniGo says that our bus is only arriving in another ten minutes. This is not our bus!" I watch helplessly as the bus pulls out of the station, ultimately making me miss my flight and forcing me to pay double the price for another ticket back home. Once, after work, Sonia sees the green arrow on OmniGo and floors the gas pedal at a road intersection. She says confidently, "OmniGo says it's supposed to be a green light! That means this traffic light is wrong!" I look at the red light in horror. Before I can stop her, a vehicle driving ordinarily past the intersection crashes right into our car. In the end, my legs have to be amputated, and I become wheelchair-bound, while Sonia only suffers a mild concussion and a fracture. One rainy day, Sonia calls me an Uber to go to my follow-up at the hospital, but she sets the pickup point at a location that is flooded a third of a mile away. I try to change the pickup point to my home, but she snatches my phone away and says, "OmniGo says that this pickup point is highly recommended for disabled people to board. You can't just change the pickup point as you like!" As a result, I fall into a puddle, wheelchair and all. Sonia doesn't even turn back to look at me and leaves me behind. Because of the rain and the prolonged soaking of my wounds in the dirty puddle, I develop a severe infection, which then leads to multiple organ failure. Despite being rushed to the emergency unit afterward, I ultimately die from the infection. When I open my eyes again, I realize that I'm standing at the bus station again. Sonia taps on her phone and leans closer to me, showing me the details on her phone. "Look, Amanda, OmniGo says that our bus isn't arriving for another ten more minutes."