Personalized Leather Bible Niv

"Say it," Tenz growled, yanking her hips against the hood of his blacked-out car, his hand wrapped around her throat like a necklace made of danger. Kyoline's breath shuddered as his mouth traced her jaw, his fingers sliding under the hem of her leather skirt, teasing, threatening. "Say you're mine, or I'll make you say it with your teeth clenched and your legs shaking," he hissed, dragging his tongue along her collarbone. She smirked through the haze of lust and war. "I'm not yours, Tenz... I'm just letting you play with me until someone better comes to steal me." "Someone like who?" he spat. A cold voice answered from behind the shadows. "Like me," Isaac said. And just like that... the chaos began. --- Kyoline Diego was born of blood, betrayal, and gunfire. A mafia princess with ash in her veins and a Glock in her purse. Her childhood ended the day her father-a respected Made Man-was assassinated. Left for dead, she crawled from the ruins with nothing but vengeance and two younger siblings she'd kill for. Now eighteen and jaded, Kyoline bartends for mob rats by night, runs guns for a price, and slays in gold heels by morning. Love? It's not on the agenda. Survival is. Enter Tenz Jersey-her inked-up, lie-laced mafia beau. The man who f*cks like a god and lies like a sermon. He gives her fire, chaos, and a reason to breathe. He also gives her bruises she wears like medals and promises that vanish like smoke. She tells herself he's enough. Until Isaac. Cold. Calculating. Beautiful in a way that feels like a bullet wound. He shoves her into an unmarked SUV, claims he's NYPD, feeds her lies and cannoli-then laughs while she figures out he's actually the most lethal hitman.....

I stepped closer. Close enough to smell his cologne—cedarwood, leather, and power. My hand moved. Smooth, practiced. The pistol slide from under the apron into my palm. I raised it fast. But before I could pull the trigger— BANG. Not my shot. A scream tore through the restaurant as another man launched himself toward Romano’s table, blade flashing. Another assassin. What the hell— Romano didn’t flinch. He shoved the table forward, knocking the attacker off balance. The blade scraped across wood, not skin. I ducked instinctively as the room erupted into chaos. Gunfire cracked. Glass exploded. People screamed and dove for cover. “Get him out—NOW!” one of the guards barked. I aimed for the second attacker. Didn’t even hesitate. One shot—head. Gone. The guard saw me. Confusion flashed in his eyes. Then rage. I ran. I weaved between overturned chairs, plates, and screaming bodies. The smell of blood was real now, thick in the air. One of the guards grabbed me. I slammed my elbow into his ribs, twisted, and brought the butt of my gun down on his skull. He dropped like a sack of bricks. Out. I had to get out. My boots pounded the floor as I tore through the narrow hallway. But then— “Elisa.” His voice stopped me cold. I turned. Antonio Romano stood in the middle of the carnage, suit untouched, blood spattered behind him like art. His eyes were on me. And he was smiling. It was darker. Slower. Like a hunter seeing something worth chasing. Somehow, he knew who I was. “Interesting,” he said softly, tilting his head. “They sent you.” I didn’t answer. I ran. But that voice followed me. He knew my name. And he let me go. This wasn’t over. It had just begun.

"Jett?" My voice trembled. "Shhh, Bunny," he murmured, tilting the bottle and pouring the liquor over my p***y. The cold sting hit my swollen folds, and I jolted up, gasping as the burn spread through me. "Ahhh—!" I nearly buckled from the mix of cold fire and his hot tongue as he went back to eating me. My body jerked off the table, chasing the torment I knew I couldn’t withstand. He pulled back, eyes dark, smirking as his tongue followed every drop running down my thighs. "F***," he groaned. "You taste even better with whiskey on your pussy." --- I thought my biggest mistake was crushing on Jason Maltideon—my best friend, the boy I’d spent my life yearning for—only for him to reject me the moment the Goddess fated me to him. But my real mistake? Giving myself to the wrong man. His twin brother—Jettison Maltideon. He’s everything I should fear: wild, reckless, a walking sin wrapped in leather and gasoline. The kind of man who fights too hard, drinks too much, and smirks like he knows exactly how to ruin me. I hate him. I hate that he looks just like the man who shattered my heart. I hate that he knows my darkest secrets—and doesn’t care. But most of all, I hate that when he touches me, I burn. Jettison wants me. He doesn’t take no, and he’s made it clear he’ll chase me until I break. Now, with the Moon Goddess pulling our strings in a storm of betrayal, forbidden bonds, and a sickness tearing our pack apart, I’ll have to decide— Is Jettison my ruin? Or the only wolf who was ever meant to save me? Note: Rated 18+. Dark romance, morally complex characters, and triggering themes.

Serene’s heart raced as she stood in Nicholas’s dimly lit study, the scent of leather and whiskey heavy in the air. She’d been dusting the bookshelves when he entered, his presence filling the room like a storm. Now, he stood inches away, his black suit hugging his broad shoulders, his dark mullet framing a gaze that burned with intent. “You missed a spot,” he murmured, his voice a low growl, pointing to a shelf she’d already cleaned. Her cheeks flushed as she turned, the hem of her maid uniform riding up her thighs. “I-I’ll get it, Mr. Volkov,” she stammered, reaching up, but his hand caught her wrist, firm yet gentle. “No,” he said, stepping closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Let me show you.” His fingers slid down her arm, leaving a trail of heat, before guiding her hand to the shelf. His chest pressed against her back, and she gasped at the hardness of his body, the evidence of his arousal unmistakable. “You’re trembling, little maid,” he whispered, his lips brushing her neck, sending shivers down her spine. “Do I scare you… or do I excite you?” Her breath hitched as his free hand trailed up her thigh, slipping beneath the lace of her uniform. “Mr. Volkov…” she whimpered, but her protest melted into a moan as his fingers found her, teasing her through the thin fabric of her panties. “ Nicholas,” he corrected, his voice rough with desire, his touch growing bolder, circling her most sensitive spot until her knees buckled. “Say it,” he demanded, nipping her earlobe. “N-Nicholas,” she gasped, her body arching into him, surrendering to the fire he’d ignited. In that moment, the billionaire and his naive maid were bound by a hunger neither could deny.

Leon Vincent, the shark of Warren Street, is the one who raised me. Twelve years ago, a fire tore through the orphanage and took everything from me. He was the one who pulled me out of the flames and gave me a second chance at life. To repay him, we make a weird deal—a 99-debt contract. I have to either obey him or be abandoned 99 times. After that, the debt will be cleared. Every time he goes on a date with some high-society socialite, he'll toss another insanely expensive piece of jewelry into my safe. In just two short years after turning 18, I've accumulated 96 diamonds in my safe, each one marking the 96 times he's cast me aside. One day, his fiancee, Elena Harrington, sends me a provocative email. "Dearest Isabelle, Leon and I are finalizing the wedding invitations. Do you think velvet with gold foil or matte leather would be more elegant? The ceremony's early next month. Can't wait to see you there! Love, Elena." Right after that, Leon calls, asking me to pack his bags for the summit in Parienne tomorrow. I simply send the wedding gift I've prepared in advance—a seven-figure emerald necklace—straight to his darling Elena without any words. That night, Leon returns to the apartment and finds out what I've done. He praises me for being considerate. Late into the night, he pulls me into his arms with rare tenderness. Nothing is left between us; no clothes, no holding back. He whispers that he wants to give me a special kind of reward, one that only I can carry. Somehow, Elena discovers my pregnancy. She stands on the balcony of Vincent Estate, screaming like her life depends on it. "Leon, I'm begging you! Don't let her have that baby! If you do, I'll jump!" The cold and proud Leon begs me, for the first time, to get rid of the baby. Everyone at the party awaits my breakdown, but I just smile softly and nod. "Alright. I will." He whispers in my ear, "Our marriage is just a business arrangement. I don't even like her. Once we're divorced, I'll give you another baby." What he fails to realize is that it was never in my plans to keep this one. There are only three more times left before I pay off this life debt from when he pulled me out of that fire all those years ago. After the 99th time, I board a ship bound for Azara to join a medical research mission. From that moment on, my life will be mine alone to live for.