O'block Chicago

Reaching adulthood, Pax then ends up in Chicago being an unregistered and unknown chemist living in a place resembling a garage; not planning to change anything of his lifestyle, until he met someone who was able to help him with an unknown chemical substance made only in his knowledge. In cause of his mental incapacity at several points of his living, the said project resulted in a disaster, causing some of its built evaporated elements open to other people without their awareness of the possibility of obtaining them. With that supposed substance running around within the air, it then goes in the way of people who are proved worthy of them to be obtained. Scattered along the country, they find their way to each other, desperate to learn control with what they have possibly acquired.

In the fifth year of being Mrs. Cloud, my brother-in-law passed away. My mother, stressed by the thought of my older sister spending her youth in widowhood, wanted her to have a child with the help of my husband. I refused outright, but my protests were useless. My mother brought people to block the door, and I was left to watch helplessly as my husband and my half-sister entered the bedroom together. "She's your sister. What's the harm in letting her have him?" I thought that my husband couldn't possibly do anything with my sister since she was family. I thought he would draw the line, out of decency, out of respect. However, as time passed, my heart grew cold. Only then did I realize that I was the only one who cared about this matter. While I clutched our daughter in my arms and cried in silent devastation, he was going at it with my sister.

Even the street punks knew that in Chicago, Catherine Leone was untouchable. I had three deadly protectors watching my back. My husband, Raphael Falcone, was the youngest underboss in the Chicago Outfit. He was known for his cold, iron-fisted rule, yet in a crowded room, he would kneel to adjust the hem of my gown. My childhood friend, Luca Vizzini, the family's brilliant new consigliere. He'd sworn to protect me since we were kids. And my twin brother, Salvatore Leone, who cherished me above all else. He took over the family at eighteen and treated me like royalty, making me the most envied Principessa in the underworld. On my twenty-eighth birthday, I waited in the living room all day, clutching a pregnancy test with two solid lines, ready to share the news that would change everything. Instead, they brought me my brother's body, murdered by a drug dealer hailed as a hero. And standing before me was my husband, Raphael Falcone, ready to clear the murderer's name. "Tell me why," A scream clawed at my throat, but I fought it down, "You know damn well who the murderer is." "Catherine, control yourself." It was Luca Vizzini, my childhood friend, who tied my hands. "Salvatore's gone, but you still have us. You're still Mrs. Falcone, still the Principessa of the Leone family." "The Leones have looked after Chiara for years. You know her father is all she has." They wanted me to confess to my brother’s fabricated crimes and apologize to Chiara. But they forget. Before I was Raphael's wife, I was Catherine Leone. A master hacker who could breach any system. I will deliver my own justice in ways they cannot imagine. And I will make them regret it.

I was his one weakness. Don Alex, the king of New York. And I was his queen. But days before our child was due, I was thrown into the Dockside Deathmatch—a cruel game broadcast for the underground world’s entertainment. The bullets flew, hidden traps lay in wait, and my every terrified, pathetic attempt to survive was broadcast live on giant screens. Then, I heard his second-in-command on the loudspeaker. "Boss, your wife's about to pop. You sure you wanna be here?" I froze. Alex was here? A moment later, a woman’s sugary voice dripped through the speakers. "Forget that bitch. Alex told me the only thing that mattered today was being here with me. Right, honey?" It was Scarlett. The Chicago Outfit's princess. Alex's childhood sweetheart from Chicago, a woman he had always pampered and shown a distinct bias towards. He had turned down her advances for years, but he never refused her whims. Today, she was in a bad mood and insisted on watching the deathmatch, so he was here to keep her company. I screamed for Alex, begged him for help, but he was convinced I was an assassin in disguise. Because Scarlett laughed and said the game needed to be more exciting. So he pressed the button. Vicious patrol dogs hunted me. My water broke, mixing with blood on the ground. I was in agony. The game hit its climax as more dogs and gunmen closed in from all sides. Everyone was betting on who would be the next to die. Alex smiled, his voice a low, careless drawl, "I’ll bet on that filthy pregnant woman to die." He didn't know the truth until I bled out on an operating table, our child dead with me. They say the ruthless Godfather shattered. Broke completely.

I shoot to my feet and practically scream, “She?!? They’re sending a woman?” I suddenly hear the sound of heels clicking on the floor, and turn to see a pair of eyes I never thought I’d be seeing again. “Yes, Tate, they sent a woman. I’ve been hired to save your sorry ass,” she calmly states with a look of disgust in her ocean blue eyes. **** What will happen when Ashton Tate, the scandal-ridden MVP second baseman, comes face-to-face with his ex-girlfriend, Elizabeth Mason, whom the team has hired to salvage his reputation and career? Sparks are sure to fly when the two of them are forced to spend every waking moment together, in an effort to revamp his bad-boy image. Unresolved grudges, past heartache, and malicious former flames and rivals block the path to redemption at every turn. Can Elizabeth help Ashton find his way back to the man he once was, or is this his last strikeout?

“Spread those thighs, little one.” His voice was a low growl as his hand closed around her hips. “Y-yes, Daddy,” she gasped, trembling as he dragged her down to his mouth. “Mmmhh… Daddy’s good girl,” he muttered darkly against her slick heat. “From this moment, your body, your screams, your soul—belong to me.” **************************************** He bought her with blood money. He keeps her with chains and silk. She swears she’ll never bend, but in his world of shadows and sin, defiance only feeds his hunger. In Naples, he’s “Il Diavolo”—the devil every man fears. To her, he’s the ruthless savior who dragged her from an auction block straight into hell. And hell has never felt so addictive. Claimed by the Don is a dark mafia romance laced with filthy dominance, dangerous obsession, and a love story sharp enough to cut.

In the glamorous world of Chicago's elite, Ava Reed, a shy bookworm on scholarship, finds herself entangled in a dangerous game of power and desire. When she crosses paths with Max Blackwood, the city's most eligible bachelor, their worlds collide in a whirlwind of secrets and deceit. Desperate to escape her hometown and protect herself from a menacing admirer, Ava strikes a precarious deal with Max, the billionaire CEO of America's newest investment firm. But their contract marriage is just the beginning of a tumultuous journey filled with passion, jealousy, and betrayal. As they navigate the treacherous waters of high society, Ava and Max must confront their demons and face the ultimate question: is their love worth risking everything for?

She was the daughter of a monster. He was the man who put a bullet in her father’s skull. Now, they're both trapped in a game of obsession, betrayal, and blood. When Mirabella Belluci escapes her brutal Mafia past in Chicago, she doesn't expect to be hunted by the man who freed her. Giovanni Moretti. He is cold, calculating, and a sworn enemy of her family and is meant to watch her from the shadows. Instead, he watches too closely... and wants too much. But in a world where love is weakness and loyalty is lethal, desire comes at a cost. And the closer they draw to each other, the deeper they sink into a war that could destroy them both. "Obsession is just another kind of loyalty.”

It all began with a single post about canceling a food delivery order. Overnight, I became the internet's punching bag. Thousands of vicious messages flooded my inbox, filled with photoshopped memorials urging me to die. They doxxed my family, plastered my personal details across shady websites, and used AI to create obscene images of me, spreading them in vile chat groups. They spread lies about my income, claiming it came from illicit sources, and accused me of carrying diseases. I didn't call the police or block the messages. Instead, I read every hateful word before singling out the 100 worst offenders. Every day, I sent each one a luxurious meal: Boston lobster, Australian wagyu, the works. Each delivery came with a simple note: [Thank you for your hard work.]

In eight years together, my boyfriend—Shayne Raffield—blocked me eighty-eight times. This time? Because I missed his call. At my best friend's birthday party. Usually, I'd panic-order a gift, then stand outside his office, head down, ready to beg. But today? I blocked him first. The Chat Feed popped up, loud as ever: [Nooo, Ley-Bae, don't block Shay-Shay! He's just got abandonment issues. Comfort him!] [Shay's heart = shattered; Eyes = red. Ley, go! One pout and he's yours again!] Then Shayne called. Didn't say a word. Just breathed for ten seconds and hung up. The Chat Feed freaked out. [AHHHH SHAY LOVES LEY SO MUCH HE JUST SUCKS AT SAYING IT. THIS COWARD'S GONNA LOSE HIS GIRL.]