Novel & Cerita No More The Don's Broken Doll

I can't get married to you" I kept walking back,not breaking eye contact till my back hit the wall and he closed the distance between us. Towering over my petite frame he pinned me against the wall, playing his hands on each side of my body he trapped me between him and the wall. My heart thundering. "Your opinion doesn't matter here" His deep ,emotionless voice sent chills down my spine. _____________________________ Vera A 21 year old is a beautiful,naive and sweet girl who had everything taken away from her at a tender age was taken by her aunt and uncle after her parents murder by an uprising against the ruling Russian mafia which was Mikhail's (Vera's father) mafia. From then on Vera had been living with her cousin and her parents for 18 years and is not aware of the dangerous life she was born into and the fact that they aren't her real parents. Julius He is the boss of the Greek and Italian mafia owning the biggest mafia in the world. He is rude , arrogant and ruthless billionaire Being the most feared mafia leader he has no room for emotions or love in his life but what happens when one dinner changes everything and awakens something in Julius¿ On one hand Vera is being forced to marry Julius to protect her dad but is Julius being forced?

I married Don Matteo in secret. Every time he fucked his childhood sweetheart, he promised me a real wedding，in front of the Five Families. For five years, Matteo promised me ninety-nine times. And ninety-nine times, he left me at the altar. The first time, Cecilia’s prize-winning show cat died. To comfort her, he postponed the wedding for three months. I stood at the altar alone, eyes red, trying to calm down the family elders. The second time, Cecilia threw a tantrum at a casino and shattered a hundred-million-dollar antique vase. He diverted the private jet meant for their wedding and rushed through the night to clean up her mess. And every time, right before our wedding, his childhood sweetheart would have some kind of emergency. I cried. I screamed. I even held a gun to his head. But Matteo would just pin me against the wall and shut me up with a cold, hard kiss. “She’s just a fuck. You are Mrs. Falcone. Have some goddamn class.” After the ninety-ninth time, I was finally done. I slid the papers across the table. The ink was still wet, the Falcone family seal stamped at the bottom. “Our marriage, our alliance—it’s over.”

****Excerpt**** “You see yourself as ordinary,” he said softly. “But entire worlds have crumbled and come apart for far less than a woman of your beauty.” He pushed his horn further again, filling her another inch. Her flame flared white-hot behind her ribs. Begging, pleading, clawing. “That’s it, my little whore. You like that, don’t you?” he preened against the corner of her mouth. His voice hit her harder than the horn. Dirty, cruel, worshipful. The word whore sent heat spiralling down her spine, making her clench around the invasion. She hated the word. She loved how he said it. “Please…” She started. He squeezed her throat, cutting off the rest of her words. Her breath hitched violently at the pressure, but she surrendered to the feeling. “Unless you are about to beg me to fuck your ass harder with this horn, I don’t want to hear how you can’t take any more.” He growled, low and threatening. A wave of want crashed into her so hard she whimpered. Adelaide should have been scared. In a way, she was. It wasn’t fear that made her heart pound, it was the terrifying realisation that she wanted exactly what he demanded. She wanted to feel the thickness of his horn deep inside her, wanted the stretch, the pain, the pleasure. She wanted all of what she knew he could give her. She leaned her head back to run her tongue over the seam of his lips. “Fuck me harder.” She said softly, the words barely a whisper. They carried the desperation, surrender, hunger, devotion, need. Her voice trembled with the weight of what she was giving him. Of what she was asking him to do to her. He growled. The sound vibrated through her, deep and possessive.

I married Don Alessandro in secret. The Five Families of Chicago had ruled for generations. And I had married into the most powerful of them. For four years, Alessandro made me promises. One hundred and twelve times. And one hundred and twelve times, he left me standing alone. The first time, his ex‑girlfriend’s father had a heart attack. Alessandro canceled the wedding and stayed with her for three full weeks. The second time, she crashed her Maserati into a fountain in Monaco. Drunk. He flew there overnight and paid off the police chief personally. Every time, right before our wedding, she manufactured another crisis. I begged. I screamed. I put a knife to my own wrist. Alessandro just laughed, pulled the blade from my hand, and fucked me against the nearest wall. “She’s my ex‑girlfriend. You’re my wife. You don't need to be jealous of her.” After the one hundred and twelfth time, I stopped feeling anything. I pushed a piece of agreement in front of him.“Our marriage. Our alliance. Consider it terminated.”

When the gas cooker exploded and Sharon Milton was close to death, only her five-year-old son, James Collins, was at her side. Her spirit stood next to James and looked at him as he sobbed and called Sean Collins. He begged Sean to come home and save his mommy. However, Sean only scolded him and told him not to lie like Sharon before hanging up. James wiped the tears from his eyes and called 911. When the ambulance finally arrived, Sean appeared and stept in. "Daddy, Mommy is bleeding out and needs the ambulance. Please don't take it from her!" "You little liar. Looks like your mom hasn't taught you very well. Step aside! Riley is due. She needs this ambulance more than Sharon!" James's eyes had turned red due to all the crying, but Sean pushed him away and left without even taking a look back. He got into the ambulance with Riley in his arms. "Daddy... Daddy! Please save Mommy!" James sobbed as he chased after the ambulance, but he didn't see the speeding truck that was heading towards him. Sharon shouted her son's name and wanted to push him away, but there was nothing she could do. She could only watch as James was run over by the truck. Beneath the wheels, there was a pool of blood spreading across the ground. Sharon was about to lose her mind. Over the past years, Sean had abandoned Sharon and James countless times for Riley Winston and her daughter. Whenever Sharon and Sean had an argument about this matter, Sean would always just say that he was repaying Riley's father for saving his life. Sharon just felt that Sean didn't know what he was doing. What she didn't expect was that he didn't care about her and James's lives at all. Sharon felt that she was the one who killed James. Her heart ached as she took her last breath. If there was another life, she just wished that she had nothing to do with Sean.

I'm in a secret marriage with Jessica Justice, a female CEO, for eight years. In order to please Cole Miller, Jessica has almost gotten divorced with me 99 times so far. The first time she brings up divorce, it's because my socks' colors are mismatched. The second time she does, she claims that the way I mop the floor is too ugly. … The reason of the 98th divorce is that I step through the doorway with my left foot first. Every time divorce is brought up, I'll always beg Jessica to not go through with it in an extremely lowly and humble manner. After that, I'll accept her condition to get back with me, which is always a punishment. Apparently, my pain and suffering is the only thing that can make Cole smile. The punishments range from washing Cole's feet to eating 100 slices of mango—which I'm very allergic to—and getting sent to the ICU as a result. This time, since Cole is in a bad mood, Jessica decides to go with a thrilling punishment. "As long as you can climb up a tower of 6500 feet without wearing a safety line, I will never bring up divorce in front of you ever again." All color has been drained from my face. Still, I nod while gritting my teeth together. But the next day, Jessica brings up divorce to me for the 100th time. The reason is that Cole has climbed 6499 feet just to please her. But apparently I've climbed an extra foot, so I end up stealing his thunder. This time, I no longer plead to her to stay. Instead, I tell my grandpa that I agree to inherit my family's assets that are worth ten billion dollars. Heck, the number of socialites who yearn to marry me can line up to the moon and back.

He didn't want her money. He wanted her. Elara Vance is one bad week away from losing everything. Her freelance career is barely keeping the lights on, her sister is falling apart on her couch, and her car is about to be repossessed. So when she accidentally damages a stranger's luxury car on an empty street, she knows she's ruined. But the man who steps out of the black sedan isn't interested in her insurance. He isn't interested in the police. He isn't even interested in the forty‑two thousand dollars she owes him. Adrian Volkov wants something else entirely. He's been watching her for weeks. He knows about her sister, her bills, her father's death. He knows she's desperate enough to do anything. And he's about to prove it. The contract is simple: she moves into his mansion, follows his rules, and becomes his Doll. In exchange, her debt disappears. No police. No record. No questions. But the rules aren't what she expects. The mansion is a cage, the servants know more than they say, and Adrian's cold exterior hides something darker than she ever imagined. He doesn't just want her body. He wants her submission. Her trust. Her surrender. And he won't stop until he has all of it. Elara tells herself it's just a transaction. A way to survive. But the line between obligation and desire blurs with every glance, every touch, every night she spends in his bed. The more he controls her, the more she craves it. And the more she learns about his past, the more she realizes: she was never the one in control. And now that she's his Doll, he'll never let her go. Doll is a dark romance with explicit content, power dynamics, and a slow‑burn descent into obsession. Recommended for readers 18+.

“You don’t mean anything to me,” he spoke dangerously, the tips of his fingers curling in my hairs as he jerked my neck back. “A mere toy that I’ll use whenever I want,” a breathless whimper escaping my lips. “Leave me-“ “Or what?” His lips stretched into a wide grin. “Tear me with your tiny claws?” He backed me into the wall behind me and leaned in closer, his grey eyes pierced my soul. “Remember, Amara, you exist solely for my pleasure.” He pulled my hair harder and my flesh burned the moment he nuzzled his face into my shoulder. I bet he could hear my heart beat accelerating with passing breath. His other arm circling to wrap around my waist, my heart pounded when his strong sandalwood essence in-filtered my senses. “Rhys-” “Shh…and for your punishment, I want you to bend over the wall and lift you skirt.” ****

Everyone in the social circle of Kingsford said I was nothing more than a lapdog raised by Charles Mankin. I was always at his beck and call. I did every filthy, ludicrous thing for him under the sun. When he street raced, I rode shotgun. When he drank himself senseless, I made him hangover soup. When he chased girls, I prepared protection for them. Over time, everyone knew: Charles had a dog who never ran, never bit back, no matter how hard he kicked. They all said I must be madly in love with him. Even Charles started to believe it. So he pushed further, more freely, more cruelly, crossing lines as if they never existed. Then came my twenty-fifth birthday. He, in a rare stroke of mercy, said he'd celebrate it with me. But instead, what he got was the news that I was leaving the country. He went berserk, charging through the airport like a man possessed. I peeled his fingers off my wrist one by one, smiling like I'd never been happier. "Don't be stupid," I told him, still smiling. "That was never love." That night, Charles smashed apart his family home like a rabid dog.

In college, Elara Hayes was invisible, a quiet wallflower, mocked and overlooked. One drunken night, she made the mistake of sleeping with the golden boy, Leonard Shaw. By morning, he denied it, mocked her, and turned the entire campus against her. She left, broken and disgraced. Years later, Elara is no longer the girl he humiliated. She's now the face behind a rising fashion empire, cloaked in elegance, success, and unshakable poise. When fate brings Leonard back into her life at a prestigious award ceremony, he doesn't recognize the woman he once destroyed. But she remembers everything. And this time, she’s not here to be ignored, she’s here to rewrite the story. On her terms.