Napoleon Paintings

In the third year after my fiancée, Iris Ford, falls off a cliff during a sketching trip in the mountains, I accidentally walk into her personal art exhibition. The person I have longed for day and night is right there, gently adjusting the scarf of the young man beside her. The walls are covered with portraits she once promises to paint only for me, but every subject of her paintings is that young man. Violet Bardot, Iris' best friend and the one who once helps me handle her funeral affairs, grabs me anxiously. "Graham, don't do anything rash. Iris has her reasons. After Jack Glenwood saved her, she suffered from a head injury and lost her memory. She didn't mean to stay away." I smile at how ridiculous she is. "It's one thing if Iris lost her memories, but did you lose yours too? Since Iris is still alive, why do you not bring her back? You've watched me live in pain and misery for three years. I had to rely on sleeping pills just to get by. Do you find that amusing?" Violet falls silent and doesn't dare to look at me again. The young man named Jack hides behind Iris timidly. In the next moment, Iris turns to look at me with a frosty expression. "Mr. Stevens, I do not wish to go back. The person I love now is Jack. Since I've forgotten my past, just treat it as memories from a previous lifetime."

I married my vampire husband ten years ago and gave him a half-blood heir, abandoning my career as a painter to become a full-time mother. Fortunately, my son inherited my talent. At just six years old, he held his first solo art exhibition, inspired by the theme "My Mother." But he never let me attend, and he never let me see his paintings. My husband said my presence would make Luke nervous---that I should stay home and do the housework as a good wife and mother, and wait for them to come back. I told myself he was just young and didn't know better, that he was only pushing back against my discipline, not truly rejecting me. Until the day I snuck into the gallery wearing a surgical mask pulled low. In the center of the crowd, my husband held our son's hand while tenderly pulling a woman in a red dress into his arms. He turned to the guests and announced: "This is Luke's mother---my wife." The three of them stood together, beaming with perfect happiness. And I---the one who'd stayed up all night setting up this exhibition---stood before the paintings while not a single person recognized me. That was when I finally understood. My seemingly gentle, caring vampire husband had long ago given our son a replacement mother. And I was nothing more than the human nanny who'd served her purpose by producing an heir.

I glared when his hand reached again to my neck. Our faces only an inch apart. His big hand was almost wrapping it whole. His thumb massaging my throat like a feather. "And when I thrust inside of you, I want to hear you scream my name. Every name of mine." "Dante. Adriano. Sol. Di. Angelo." His thumb stroking the center of my neck while uttering every name he owned. His eyes hooded in heat, lust clouding the windows of his soul. "And when you cum, it'll be Dante you moan." --- Hailynn Fleury is a talented painter. Growing up as an orphan, she and her best friend Ethan, always wanted to get back to the people that helped and cared for them. When one of her friends convinced her to auction her paintings at one of her charity events, it didn't take much persuasion knowing the money would go to the orphanage. On the night of the auction, her future took another turn when she saw a handsome man holding a gun. Later finding out that he was a mafia boss with an intention of keeping her from thereon. Witnessing him pulling a trigger to someone would have been the mafia boss' wisest decision to never let her go. Except that he couldn't touch the girl knowing the promise he had with his cousin. Dreams of bedding the girl is no longer an option. But how will he treat his ragazza, really? Find out how both of their lives took a turn- with the aspiring artist and the Italian mafia boss.

“You're a long way from safe, Miss Allard,” he whispers, his fingers tracing the strap of my bra until I shiver. "If you want to turn around, I’d suggest you do so now.” I stare up at him, watching as his dilated grey eyes dip to my cleavage. “Where will I go, Mr. Sinclair?” I ask, pulling him closer until our lips are inches apart. “Where can I go that you won’t find me?” **** 24 year old Ava Jade Allard has a few problems, but like most issues, there’s nothing a little money can't fix. So when Ava attends an art show to sell a few of her paintings to some of the richest, high-society members of New York, she’s sure she can kill two birds with one very rich stone. In and out, just like she hoped. But New York seems set on eating Ava whole, and as one mess leads to another, she finds herself in the arms of Billionaire Leonel Sinclair, a ruthless CEO who is still dealing with the consequences of a scandal he was entangled in 4 years ago. Now more desperate than when she started, Ava reluctantly turns to this stone-cold, terrifying, but somehow insanely hot Billionaire to help her set right what was wronged 4 years ago, while somehow doing the same for him, and with one contract marriage, Ava signs away her single status, anonymity and possibly her soul. Will this contract fix the manytraumatic wrongs of her past, or will Ava crumble under the weight of her grey-eyed, stoic CEO, whom she seems less and less able to keep her body and heart away from with each passing day? What happens when Ava agrees to these reckless vows and emerges as the Billionaire’s Bride?