No More The Don's Broken Doll

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.

"When does a person die, when it stops breathing, when its heart stops beating?" "No a person dies the moment it looses hope, that's when u become an empty shell, a living doll when you have no more expectation from the world, where there are no feelings just emptiness" "Many people would think that immortality is a blessing little do they know that this is the cruellest curse someone can give you" ******** *creepy smile* " Oh Celea you really think that you will ever be able to live me" he was caressing her face, he looked like he was crazy... "what are you talking about?" " I'm saying that you will never be able to escape me, I won't let you go even if you love someone else, you are mine" " your hair belongs to me" touches her hair " your lips belong to me" touches her lips " the eyes that look at me with indifference belong to me" touches her eyes " your heart belongs to me..." his finger went down her neck to her heart, action wich made Celea look at where his finger's at. Claus than goes to her ear and whispers " your whole existence belongs to me Celea"

"This is the body donation agreement, Mr. Lewis. Please sign here." Joel Lewis looks at the paper before him. His hand trembles as he grips a pen. The other party can sense his hesitance. They say considerately, "Body donation is a big thing, and it's normal for people to change their minds at the last minute. You can go home and discuss this with your family—" "I've already signed it." Joel smiles bitterly. "Family" is a term that's beyond him. There's no longer any space in his wife's heart for him, after all.

His hand fisted in my hair while the silk tie kept my wrists helpless above my head, his voice dark and thick with lust against my neck. “You’re soaking my fucking pants, Celeste—moaning like a needy little wife who wants to be fucked until she forgets her husband’s name. Is that what you want?” I arched into him, breath hitching as the words tumbled out, “Yes, sir.” ___ Celeste Maddox is the picture-perfect political wife, composed, elegant, and utterly unwanted. Behind closed doors, her marriage to golden boy Ethan is a hollow performance: no affection, no passion, just cold smiles and a carefully curated public image. But everything shatters when she walks in on Ethan tangled in the sheets with her own sister. Heartbroken and reckless, Celeste lets herself unravel for one night in the arms of a commanding stranger—someone who touches her like she matters, who makes her ache and moan like she’s never known pleasure before. She never planned to see him again. But fate has other plans because the stranger? He’s Dr. Rowan Wolfe, the couples therapist Ethan hires to fix their broken marriage. Now, every session is torture. Every glance, a spark.And when Ethan stops showing up, Rowan doesn’t stop seeing her. Talking turns to touching. Therapy turns to sin. And Celeste finds herself tied to the bed of the one man who makes her forget every vow she ever made. She swore she’d never cheat. He swore she was only his plaything. They’re both liars. However, some sins are worth every damn consequence.

"I'll do anything!" she pleads, grabbing my hands. "I'll do anything. Just let him go. He made a mistake." "That's not an excuse. It was a costly mistake." "Please. I'll do anything you want. Anything at all." I let the silence hang in the air between us as I think carefully, my eyes drawn to how firm and full her tits are. "Anything, princess?" She lets go of my hands and straightens, raising her chin. I watch as she swallows nervously. "Y-Yes. Anything at all." I raise my fingers to her face, smearing my thumbs with her tears. I trail them down her strong jaw, to her throat, over the small hollow between her collarbones, the skin of her chest, stopping between her tits. I circle the spot quietly while she holds her breath, perhaps in anticipation. "Would you let me fuck you, Titania?" — Feisty, yet innocent Titania Williams is best known for being at the wrong place at the wrong time, and this time she's getting more than she bargained for. When her dear Uncle Patrick betrays one of the most powerful Mafia Lords in New York, Kristoff Stavkros, Titania is caught unexpectedly in the underworld web of crimes and deceit. To save her uncle's life, she makes Kristoff an offer. She'll be his for a month. Thirty days, he owns her body. Stupid, right? But Titania plays by the rules. But how can she come out victorious when Kristoff keeps changing the rules and is hell-bent on making her his forever?

My mate, Charalambos, was the heir to the Nightshade Pack. To take over as Alpha, he was sent to Noctis City, the capital city, for special training. When he left, my stepsister, Francesca, insisted on going with him. He refused at first, but she forced his hand, threatening a hunger strike until he gave in. Eventually, he allowed her to accompany him as his assistant. This went on for three years. Throughout those three years, our mate bond stayed strong. I never felt the slightest hint of betrayal. He constantly reassured me through our mind-link. "You're the only one for me." At some point, I started receiving photos anonymously. Francesca kissed him in the face, but he never refused. Once, Charalambos and I were on a video call in the dark, and I could hear Francesca’s breathless voice clearly while she whispered his name in the heat of it. Three years later, the day he returned to the pack, I saw her walking behind him. She had been with pup for five months, and there was a smug, victorious smile on her face. He looked at me apologetically. Guilt was written all over his face. "I'm sorry. I’ve only ever loved you. Once the pup comes, you can raise it." I was done. I had waited for three years. I made up my mind to reject him.

Three weeks after Lily had a one night stand with a stranger, she discovers she's going to be a mother at the age of twenty-three. Her father, a business tycoon, hurries to marry her to a rich man's son to avoid scandalous rumors. However, on their wedding day, just when she is about to say 'I do', a man appears at the door of the church and stops the wedding. To Lily's horror, it's the man she had one night stand with, and turns out he's not an ordinary man but a filthy rich don, and she just found herself marrying him.

He’s even more attractive up close, my nostrils are invaded with his expensive scent and sex appeal. My knees grow week in my seven inches platform heels. His perfect brow raised. “Did I not request for a private session?” My daze was broken as I blushed in embarrassment of literally eye fucking this man. I nodded slowly and cleared my throat. “There’s a no touching rule, sir.” I state breathlessly. He stared down at me intensely with a slight smirk on his full lips. “Go on.” ******** Yanna has been stripping for a year to pay off medical bills, unknown to her that she is the daughter to the former don of the Italian mafia. An unexpected private session with a mysterious man, changes the course of her life as he is none other than Enzo Bernadi, the current don of the italian mafia who had been promised a wife by the former don. What happens as she is forced to wed Enzo and has to adjust to the life a mafia don's wife. Expect thrilling plot twist, action, betrayals and most importantly, the steamy romance that'll brew due to their force proximity. *Expect mature scenes*

"Boss, your one night stand five years ago, Katya Petrov, is back, and she has a son who looks just like you. On your orders, we will bring her to you, but you have to know, she has now become powerful." *** Five years ago, Katya was naive and believed that the handsome stranger she met at the bar was a knight who would sweep her off her feet, and save her from the shackles of her ruthless father, who has promised her to an old Mafia Don. But it is to her shock when she discovers that the man who broke her virginity was only using her to get to her father. Ferrara De Castello gives no fuck about what he uses to get what he wants as long as he obtains the required result. To him, the end justifies the means. And at the beginning, his desire was to ruin the Petrov clan, but now, his obsession is Katya Petrov and claiming the smart little boy as his heir. Problem is, the sweet innocent Katya he knew before, is as good as dead. And she will do everything in her power, to stand in his way. But four year old genius Christopher has other plans for his mommy, if she insists on staying away from his dad, "Mom, why don't you like daddy?"

I was twelve when Henry Shaw took me home from the orphanage, gave me a new name, put me through school, and gave me a good life. Ten years later, his first love returned from abroad. Her name sounded like mine, and her face looked like a mirror image. I quickly realized I had been a stand-in all along. Crushing the diagnosis in my pocket, I decided that I was going to live the rest of my life for myself, even if I did not have much time left.