Novel & Cerita Mint Stained Shirt

I've been married to Sylvia Fuller, a mafia donna, for ten years. I'm there with her in every life-and-death situation. My hands, which are meant for playing the piano, have developed calluses from using guns. They are also stained with blood from the enemies. But when Sylvia turns 28, she falls head over heels in love with Wilson Hink, the young man she's brought back from the slums. Sylvia has hidden him very well… right until the moment I bump into him accompanying her to a prenatal check-up. Mad with jealousy, I demand Sylvia for answers, but she just passes me a divorce agreement in a lackadaisical manner. "Wilson is a man of religion. He can't sire a child without getting married, so I have to give him a legitimate status. Sign this agreement, and I'll give you 40% of my shares." I refuse to give my position away, so Sylvia keeps forcing my hand. In the end, she even kidnaps my younger brother, who's paralyzed from waist down, and drags him to the spot beneath a hydraulic press. "Sebastian Chance, either you sign the agreement, or watch him get crushed. Your choice." I kneel on the ground and beg Sylvia to stop. But soon, I hear the hydraulic press being activated. It doesn't take long before I'm completely covered in my brother's flesh and blood. I end up collapsing onto the gore-splattered ground. When I open my eyes again, I realize I've gone back in time—back to the time when Wilson has accompanied Sylvia to the prenatal check-up. This time, I don't say anything. Instead, I contact a rehabilitation center located overseas before filing for a divorce and leaving Sylvia behind. But once I'm gone for real, Sylvia actually goes crazy.

Warning- Mature Audiences only!. -Strong sexual content. - rated language. Original work. Description: "Get up!." He commanded. His voice was stern and his cold blue eyes pierced into my skin. I didn't look fazed by his intimidating demeanor. "You muckerfucker blood-sucking demon." I cussed, biting down my lower lip to hinder myself from not raining more curses at him. He smirked. He glided across the room until he stood in front of me, I looked right into his eyes as he lowered down to my level. His hand gripped my chin up, his blue eyes looking deep into mine. "You won't end well if you continue to speak to me like that," I smirked. "I am not afraid of you!" He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. "And you're afraid of death, I am death." My jaw dropped. He knows where to get me. He let go of me seeing my frightened look and looking satisfied. "But you didn't have to kill that girl for my sake. She did nothing." "Someone's going to cover up for you." He turned around and went to sit on my bed. "But I didn't kill him. There was nothing to cover up for." "Oh, dear." He said and lit his joint up. "He died." I froze. I killed someone too. I've stained my hands with blood. "Don't look too surprised and all that stunned. That's one thing you'll learn how to do and face. You've got to learn how to kill." *** Vanora Campbell's mom died leaving her with her uncaring father, she blamed her father for killing her mother and lived so carelessly thereafter. Her life turned upside down when her dad sold her to the Italian mafia boss, Zavi Covillie.

3 years ago, I faked a pregnancy to steal half a million dollars from my mate. I felt as if I didn’t have any other choice as I had to pay my brother’s ransom or let him die. Now, I would rather die than spend another day being treated with icy, bitter resentment. My name is Rachel Flores and I rejected my alpha mate because I’m ready to live, not just survive! *** "Who are you?" I came awake with a jerk, disoriented and aching all over. A heavy male body lay beside me---we were both naked except for the sheet covering our bodies. Embarrassment stained my skin bright red. I searched my memories of the night before, trying to figure out how I had gotten here while attempting to wrap the sheet around my body. I stopped when I realized I'd leave my bed partner totally nude. My skin felt too hot and too tight as I tried to work out how to get myself out of the situation. I wasn't used to being around naked men even if I was a werewolf. We cared about propriety no matter what humans thought! I remembered myself saying over and over, "I'm your mate!" I eased myself off the bed to look for clothes. I tried to be as quiet as I could so I didn't wake up the stranger. I didn't take the sheet to spare his decency, instead sacrificing my own modesty: I'd rather be caught naked than have to face a naked man I'd evidently seduced with all the subtlety of a bitch in heat! His scent was all over me, all over everything really. Rich and masculine...

Belle Miller at twenty three decides to lose her virginity to a stranger she met via an app named sex mate. After her one night stand with Ben, she hopes not to see him again but fate disagrees and lead her to him again. She finds out he is the famous Billionaire Ben Larkson and didn't know how to feel about it. On the other hand Ben wants her and even though he believes he doesn't love her just because he isn't a romantic, he still acts possessive over her. Read through to find out how his obsession for Belle turns into love, how he falls in love with her through their lust. Teaser:. Ben finished what he was reading before giving his attention to the Mrs Johnson he was expecting. Looking up from his laptop he saw a familiar face walking clumsily to his desk, wearing a shirt and a corporate trouser, with her papers scattered in her hands. Was she the Mrs Johnson? Did she lie about her name on the app? But she looked so innocent to do that. Belle Miller, he could remember her name from that night, it had been in his head all through Sunday. If she was the Mrs Johnson, then she was married, did she really make up a name? But then again, she was a virgin, he was her first, so she probably was a new bride. With all this thought on his mind, he just sat there gazing at her in shock. Did she use him? Did she use him to get her one night fling before beginning her married life? 'She was married.' It couldn't be, he wanted her again in his bed, he wanted this woman and she was married!

Sometimes God gave you what you want, sometimes you were born a werewolf rather than some pathetic little human, sometimes you got a chance to become a Human queen and rule both species… And, just like that, sometimes life fucked you up by letting you meet your mate whom you're supposed to reject, sometimes things get even more fucked up when your mate turns out to be a priest, the person who raised you, and sometimes your fucked up mind decided to seduce him. No, the fucked up things didn't stop yet, sometimes that person who always treated you like a child, the person who was not even supposed to touch any woman, responds to your innocent kiss by eating up your wet filthy hole as if his life depended on it as if the world is ending, and he will never get to eat again, and the thing between your thighs seems like the sweetest dessert to him. And finally, sometimes, you forget all the rules, you forget what is right and what is wrong when your miserable heart dares to yearn for someone you weren't even supposed to dream about, a saint. ••• " Remove your clothes, Freya.", he ordered in a low husky voice. But I didn't move...couldn't move as I watched him. His big body leaned over a bundle of dry grass, tight black shirt covered his hard chest, two buttons open, showing his pale white skin, his belt...now opened, slack just down enough for his dick to pop out, thick veiny shaft, wrapped under his slender fingers, its head, red as if his dick was angry. And when I looked up at his face, I couldn't believe he was the same man who raised me!

My fiance, Victor Blackwood, is a mafia boss who rules the country's underworld with an iron fist. To the rest of the world, he is the epitome of power. Yet to me, he is the embodiment of love. But I do not realize the cost of loving a man like him. On Valentine's Day, I cook his favorite dishes and wait for him to come home. However, time passes, and his chair stays empty. Uneasy, I go to Queenie Stone's social media page. She is Victor's foster sister. She posts, "All I said was that I felt lonely, and he came right away. "Even when I accidentally spilled wine on him, he didn't mind. Victor is still someone who puts family first, even if it means neglecting his lover. "He never lets me down. I hope things stay that way." In the photo, Victor's shirt is soaked at the waist. Queenie's handkerchief lingers near his most private parts, but he doesn't pull away. He merely looks at her affectionately. I do not make a fuss and give Queenie's post a like. Then, I send Victor a message that reads, "Let's break up." Victor ignores it as always. Later, I discover that when my breakup message popped up, he had said offhandedly, "Vivienne can't live without me. She's just acting out. "If I ignore her for a few days, she'll come crawling back by herself. She's easy to please." What he doesn't know is that I was easy to handle only because I once loved him. But now that I have decided to leave, he cannot make me turn back, no matter how he tries to win me over.

Manhattan was doing that thing again twinkling like it had all the answers, when really it just had expensive lighting. Alexander Knight leaned against the glass wall of his penthouse, seventy-five floors up, watching the city hum below him. Bourbon in one hand (mostly untouched), phone in the other. The merger docs stared back at him from the screen, but the part that actually kept him up at night wasn’t the billions on the line. It was the fine print from the Japanese investors: “Family stability preferred.” Translation: get a wife, look settled, or watch the whole deal slip away. He exhaled, fogging the window for a second before it cleared. His assistant had already sent over a neat little list of “suitable” women—discreet, polished, zero drama. Women who understood arrangements. He hadn’t even opened the attachments. Because something about the whole thing felt… hollow. His gaze drifted down, past the grid of lights, to the tiny café on the corner. Golden glow spilling onto the sidewalk, handwritten sign in the window: Local Artist Pop-Up – One Night Only. A woman stood in front of a canvas, head tilted, paint-smudged shirt slipping off one shoulder. She was talking to someone out of view, laughing softly, then stepped back to study her work like it had personally offended her. She glanced up—straight toward his building, straight at him somehow, even though there was no way she could see him up here. But for a split second, their eyes locked across the impossible distance. But right then, with the whole damn city glittering between them, he had this ridiculous, unshakable thought: She’s the one I’m going to ask. And hell help them both when she says yes.

My cousin, Myra Walsh, leaves a voice message in the family group chat in a mean and uncouth manner. "Mom, I'm not meeting that guy who drives a rundown car. One look at him tells me that he's a single pathetic loser." She then kicks my chair. "Hey Sam, that useless piece of shit is a good match for you. Why don't you take my place on the blind date?" I follow Myra's line of sight. There's an old-looking car parked outside, and the owner, Henry Quinton, is currently reclining against the car while smoking. My entire family thinks he's just an ex-convict who has just gotten released from prison and is unable to land a job yet. I'm the only one who knows that's not the truth. Last week, when I was carrying out my internship at a bank, I witnessed the bank manager inviting Henry into the vault. Apparently, the trail of numbers Henry has in his savings is as long as a phone number. After putting on some makeup on my face to make me pure and innocent, I put on an oversized shirt before heading out of the apartment. In the cold wind, I cower slightly from the cold as I hand a thermos flask over to Henry. "Sir, Maya said she's not a match for you, so I'm here in her place." Henry snuffs out his cigarette, his gaze fixing on my flapping hem for three seconds. "Lass, if you want to be with me, you'll have to suffer tremendously in life." "I'm willing to go through anything as long as I get to be with you." That night, Maya flaunts photos of the bag a rich scion has given her. As for me, I've gone over to Henry's apartment.

Twenty-six, brilliant, and achingly untouched, PhD student Cassie walks into the city’s most exclusive sex club because of a bet against her virginity. She chooses him blindly: a cruel Dom who drags her to the hidden chambers, spreads her trembling thighs, and takes her virginity with slow, savage thrusts while she screams. She never sees his face. She buries the memory under ambition, until her mother’s death forces her back to her home. Her brother offers her an internship with his best friend, Reginald Walker; an introverted, lethal and impossibly controlled CEO. The man whose mere presence makes her wet and reckless. Cassie pushes until Reggie snaps, chains her on the wooden crucifix, spreads her legs and fucks her till she's speaking in tongues. Despite the fact that Reggie cannot do emotions, their secret affair turns raw and desperate: His hand is always fisted in her hair, his neck filled with hickeys that his shirt cannot hide. Their love and lust is so violent it terrifies them both. Then the devil returns. Lucien is the one who broke Cassie's virginity and he recognises her one night, when Cassie moans Reggie's name at the Forbidden. He wants a taste of her again and asks Reggie to share, as sometimes they shared subs. Reggie refuses. Lucien vows to get her. When Reggie's past is dug up and dirty secrets are revealed, the trust in the relationship is broken. Cassie runs to her brother with a broken heart. Reggie drowns in whiskey and self-loathing. On his knees in the rain,he begs for her forgiveness and love. She gives it, but nothing is the same again. They start over slowly, trying to rebuild what Lucien nearly destroyed. One careful kiss, one trembling “I love you,” one fragile heartbeat at a time.

EXCERPT "Got you." His voice echoed above my head sending goosebumps up my spine as he pinned my wrist above my head. My pulse sped up as a traitorous and familiar heat began to appear between my legs. As if sensing the effect he had on me, his smirk widened, a devious glint appearing his his cold blue eyes. I shivered as I stared into those blue orbs that no longer held any warm affection. All that it held was raw hunger and an intense desire to possess that made me want to run. He was different. He was very dangerous. "Run again," he growled, thumb tracing the scar on my wrist—the one he’d kissed better a lifetime ago. "And I’ll chain you to my bed in the name of the man who owns you. "I’m not yours—" The rest of my words died down as he crushed his mouth to mine. His kiss wasn’t gentle—it was rough and held a lot of anger. I hated how my knees buckled. How my hands fisted in his shirt instead of shoving him away. BLURB Elena was wolfless. She was scorned, bullied, and named a jinx. She had accepted her fate and thought that she would be alone forever. Then he came. The Alpha King’s son. . He cut through her defenses and loved her like no one else did. Their bond grew stronger than any other every day, but good things never last. Dark secrets begin to get unlocked. Secrets that threaten to destroy Elena and everything that she is. Worse still, all those weapons in the form of secrets are closely related to her mate. Love turned to hate. Passion turned to fury. Will their bond, which once stood so firmly, stand the test of fate?