My Beautiful Enemy Novels & Stories

I just hope it's sooner rather than later because I am damn sick of this cell and being chained to the wall. At this point, I'm willing to do anything. And that includes being nice to my enemy. It's hard to call Solana my enemy, though. She's such a bright light and so damn beautiful that she sometimes makes me forget what I'm saying right in the middle of my sentence. She also makes me forget that I should hate her.

Lying was easy when the truth wanted to crawl out of me anyway. “I always do”, she said with a disarming smile, her breath on my shoulder. Her skin was warm. Her waist fit perfectly under my hand. She didn’t look at me. Not fully. That was smart of her. She was no longer a lawyer in a suit and bun. She was a weapon in a silk dress. And I had just pointed her at a city built on secrets. And fire. I hated how beautiful she was. It wasn’t the kind of beauty that asked for attention, it demanded it. Even disguised, even muted by red curls and false eyes, she was still her. And that was the problem.

Our eyes locked, burning with tension, two fiery souls bound together by an unbreakable thread. I stared, my mind reeling, thoughts racing like a runaway train. Her face was a haunting echo of Santos's features – the same piercing emerald eyes, the same determined jawline, the same defiant curve of her lips. The shape of her eyes, the curve of her lips, and her dark hair, a cascade reminiscent of Santos's raven tresses, all screamed one truth. Santos's daughter... my sworn enemy's bloodline... my mate. The realization struck like a thunderbolt, shaking my very foundations, rattling the walls of my soul.

This time, with my shoes on. ========== I faced my worst enemy. I had stared down terrible men, and one woman. But this was my one, true enemy. No one else bore that title. Every other person I had encountered was either a competitor or a target I had been paid to deal with. Financially. Structurally. It was never personal. Not like it was with this devil. I was dressed, head to toe, in black. Tonight was the end of everything. I had my usual weapons on me, but most of them required me to be much closer to the devil than I wanted to be.

He tilted his face a bit and Jer nodded. "I am sorry Mag. It’s just she never left like this. I am okay, don’t worry. I am not weak. It’s just that... I am fine Mag. I have you. And you will have to bear me in all moods got it". Jer said in a demanding tone and Magnus chuckled. "Anything for you baby". He softly captured his lips for a warm gentle kiss. "I think I have fallen for my enemy Magnus". Jeremy whispered on his lips. "Fallen deep baby". Magnus held him tight in his arms. Ghosting his lips roughly. And Jer sighed in his mouth. He knew Forth would make this night beautiful, rough and sinful. ********** Tabby

The day replayed again and again: Dr Adrian’s warning, the whispers, Damian’s smirk. She hated how his words lingered. She hated that her body reacted to his nearness. “He’s the enemy,” she whispered to herself. “Nothing more.” But her heart didn’t listen. Her phone buzzed suddenly, lighting the dark room. She reached for it, frowning. A message. From Damian Cole. You can run all you want, Butterfly… but you’ll always find me waiting. Her heart slammed against her ribs. She dropped the phone onto her pillow, staring at it as if it might explode.

“Why would Jones want to hurt Roman?” “Jealousy, everyone sees the way you look at Roman, he sees it too. You would still choose the toxic man who hurt you over the sweet boy who is being nice to you.” Brielle kept explaining. Her words made Reyna blush in embarrassment, everyone could see how she looked at Roman? How does she look at Roman? “So they pull out that old rule: The enemy of the enemy is my friend and they become allies to get rid of Roman. His son is out of the picture and he gets the girl.”

I’m too beautiful, too lively, too me for him. Dumbass. You think you’ve captured me? You just ignited a storm.

My heart pounds so loud I am sure the whole castle can hear it. Why do you keep coming here?I do not have an answer. But part of me does not want him to stop. The next morning, I find another note. It is on my pillow. Waiting for me when I wake up. You looked beautiful in the moonlight. — C I stare at the words. Beautiful. He called me beautiful. I press the note against my chest. My heart is racing. My cheeks are warm. I should be angry. I should be disgusted. He is my captor. My enemy.

He struck the mattress right next to my hip, the sound like a gunshot. ​"I’m going to ask you one more time," he hissed, pinning me to the bed with his weight, the leather of the crop pressed against my throat. "Is the boy mine?" ​I looked into his frozen blue eyes and realized the truth wouldn't just set me free—it would start a war. ​"Yes," I whispered, the word finally breaking free. "He’s yours, Dante. And he’s exactly like you." ​Dante froze. The crop fell from his hand, hitting the floor with a dull thud. For the first time in ten years, the monster disappeared, and the boy I loved looked back at me.