Please Don T Hate My Heart Novels & Stories

Bella’s life takes a dark turn when her father’s debt to the Jacksons falls on her shoulders, and the price is paid in blood. Lucas, one of the Jackson brothers, steps in, claiming her as his wife to save her. But before the wedding, Bella finds herself drawn to Damon, Lucas’s enigmatic brother. The ceremony shatters when gunfire erupts, leaving Lucas critically wounded. As he lies in a coma, Bella and Damon grow closer, crossing a line they can’t undo. When Lucas finally wakes up, shaken by his brush with death, he pleads for a chance to make their marriage work. Damon, however, drops the bomb about their affair. Lucas whisks Bella away, determined to salvage what’s left, but secrets and unfinished business loom. Will Damon fight for her, or will Lucas prove he’s the one who can truly win her heart? While traveling through Europe, Lucas discovers Bella is pregnant, with Damon’s child. It’s a gut punch, but he decides he’s got to step up if he’s going to keep her. Just as things start looking up for them, life throws another curveball. A freak accident sends them tumbling down a flight of stairs, Bella breaks her leg, and Lucas fractures his spine, leaving him wheelchair bound. Determined to see him recover, Bella throws herself into rehabilitating him while secretly using her father’s hidden Swiss funds to build a company. Back in America, the family drama kicks into high gear. Bella’s accused of shoving Lucas down the stairs to get rid of him, because, of course, she’d risk breaking her own leg for that. Damon’s met with a version of Bella he doesn’t recognize, convinced she’s only staying with Lucas out of pity.

My name is Clara Kelly. I was born in Brooklyn, into an Irish-American cop’s family. My father spent his whole career walking a beat out of the 84th Precinct. My mother volunteered at the parish. I was the first girl on our block to get into Columbia Law. The year I graduated, I was volunteering at a charity gala. I picked up the wrong glass of wine and ended up dumping it down the front of a man’s Brioni suit. That man was Adrian Francesco Moretti. Fourth-generation Don of the Moretti Family of New York, and one of the five families of Cosa Nostra. He chased me for four years. I said no six times. The seventh time, he stood outside my law firm in the rain until three-fifteen in the morning. I married him. Two decades in, he’d handed me the keys to the entire Moretti Family. In our world they called me “the Irish Donna,” a woman with no Italian blood who somehow held the seat. Childless by choice, the two of us. Famously in love. Until that Wednesday afternoon, when my college roommate of twenty years, my best friend Vivian Sinclair, walked into my living room with a five-year-old boy. She said the boy was Adrian’s son. She said that five years ago, she’d taken a used condom out of the wastebasket in my upstairs master bedroom, kept it frozen for three years, and done IVF. She said she was the real mother of the Moretti heir. She was the real Donna Moretti. “Be smart. Pack your bags and walk out. You might even get to keep your life.” “You’re barren. The Moretti Family doesn’t need you.” I looked at the woman I’d called my best friend for half my adult life. I didn’t say a word. She thought she was holding the winning card. What she didn’t know was that she’d just stepped onto a board Adrian and I had been laying for twenty years. I needed exactly one sentence to shatter every piece of the Donna fantasy she’d spent five years building.

On the day we were supposed to get engaged, my fiance, Christopher Vittorino, slid the ring—that was supposed to be mine—onto Lina Sorenzo, my stepsister's finger, right in front of the entire family. Christopher's uncle, Don Mark Vittorino, was the one who had specifically ordered his subordinates to deliver the ring that symbolizes the wearer's status as the future Donna of the Vittorino family to Christopher himself. I could only stare at Christopher's deep blue eyes in disbelief. Just as I was about to question him, he just gazed at me with a stony expression. Even his tone was cold and rigid. "The Don intends to send me to Maravena for the next five years to develop my own business there. Once I return, I'll take over the family business. "You don't have any skills at all, Isla. If you stay with me, you'll just be a hindrance to me and cause me unwanted trouble. "Lina, on the other hand, is fluent in Maravenese. Not to mention, she knows how to expand the family business overseas. She will serve as a brilliant assistant for me." After that, Christopher took Lina's hand and left the venue with her, not caring about the fact that the leaders of the other branch families as well as the elders kept murmuring among themselves. Because of that, I ended up becoming the laughingstock of the entire family. Five years later, Christopher and Lina return to the country. When he spots me showing up at a family gathering held by Mark with a ruby ring that signifies my status as the Donna on my finger, his expression changes instantly. "I can't believe you learned to steal, Isla!" I just ignore Christopher's accusations in favor of looking for the Black Rose Medal that my son, Toby Vittorino, has lost. That medal is a gift he received on his fourth birthday from Mark. Poor Toby has been sobbing for a long time because of its disappearance. I need to hurry up and find it as soon as possible.

Don’t Stop, Daddy An addictive dark erotic romance of secrets, power, and forbidden desire. Sierra Blake was always the good girl. The obedient daughter. The quiet one who never crossed the line. But when she returns home from college, everything changes because her stepfather, Damien Steele, sees her differently now. And the worst part? She wants him to. Damien is powerful, dominant, and dangerously off limits. Married to her mother. Her protector. Her sin. He shouldn’t look at her like that, speak to her like that, touch her like that. But when he does, Sierra can’t bring herself to stop him. What begins as a game of stolen glances quickly spirals into nights of whispered commands, velvet ropes, and aching surrender. Every kiss is a betrayal. Every moan, a deeper fall. And the closer they get, the harder it becomes to hide. Because her mother sleeps down the hall. And secrets like these always find their way into the light. He’s the man she should fear most. But all she can whisper is… don’t stop. Was

I first met Kai Valentine at the basketball court when I was ten years old. Kai was taller, louder, and faster than me. And from that day on, Kai became my best friend, my safe place. But then my parents passed away, and my family went bankrupt. After that, we weren't best friends anymore. We were just two strangers living in completely different worlds. Then, Kai starts "stealing" from me. He manages to steal every single girlfriend I've ever had. The day he steals my eighth girlfriend, I finally break. That's when I decide to fight back and get myself a boyfriend instead. That's right; I'm going to pretend to be gay! Let's see how he plans to steal this one. However, I never thought that my actions would make Kai go absolutely berserk. That night, Kai presses me against a dim corner in the stairwell. His fists slam into the concrete wall, his breath hot against my cheek. "If even he can be your boyfriend," he grits out, "then why can't I?" I laugh. "Are you out of your mind?" Kai just keeps pressing closer, his scorching gaze burning into me as his lips inch closer until he is just a breath away. "Do you still not get it?" Something hot and erect presses up against me. He then growls softly in my ear. "I never wanted to steal any of your girlfriends. The only person I ever wanted was you, Aiden Winston!"

　　Three years ago, at the very wedding I had meticulously prepared, my fiancé, Vito Rossi, turned the ceremony into a stage to propose to his childhood sweetheart, Isabella. 　　When I dared to confront him, he didn't offer an apology. Instead, he threw me into a subterranean dungeon. Whippings, starvation, and systematic humiliation—I nearly drew my last breath in that living hell. 　　Eventually, I chose to let them go. I walked away and married the man who sits at the absolute peak of the underworld—Lorenzo De Santis, the Godfather of the De Santis family. 　　Three years later, at the San Antonio Docks. 　　I accompanied Lorenzo for a business negotiation, but a sudden matter forced him to step away, leaving his men to receive me. I never expected to run into Vito after three years of silence. 　　Vito and his now-fiancée humiliated me in front of the crowd, even accusing me of being a spy and threatening to arrest me. 　　I turned my gaze toward my husband, who had just arrived—the man who rules the entire Mafia world. I lifted my chin and looked at him. 　　"Lorenzo," I said, my voice steady and clear. "This maniac wants to throw your wife into a dungeon again. How do you intend to handle this?"

The boy group shaking New York City to its core. The Three Golden Voices of New York. **GOLDEN ECHO** Jaxon (the magnetic leader with a voice that could melt steel), Kai (the playful rapper/vocalist who hides sharp pain behind his smiles), and Ryu (the quiet storm with deep, powerful vocals that anchor every harmony). Together, they’re unstoppable. Magnetic. Their blended voices could send shadows running and shatter stadiums. Fans scream their name like a religion. But everything fractures when *he* crashes into their world. Jaxon finds himself falling — hard, recklessly, maddeningly — for Kai’s boyfriend. The man who never asked for any of it. **Leonard Clifford**. Multi-billionaire. CEO of Clifford Enterprises. Cold as arctic steel, built an empire on ruthless control, and commands rooms without raising his voice. Respect follows him like a shadow. Desire does too — but he keeps everyone at arm’s length. He doesn’t chase. He doesn’t bend. Until Jaxon’s gaze locks on him at the wrong (or right) moment, and something cracks in that icy armor. Without trying, Leonard shatters the trio’s bond. Best friends become strangers. Secrets claw their way into the light. Jealousy burns hotter than spotlights. Lust and love tangle until no one knows what’s real anymore. One stolen glance at a mall perfume counter. One accidental rescue. One whispered “Shorty” that hits like a spark to gasoline. From sold-out arenas to penthouse secrets, the ride is messy, intense, forbidden. Friends to enemies. Enemies to something dangerous. And love that might destroy them all — or save them. This is gonna be filthy, heartbreaking, and fucking electric. Jump in if you're ready for angst, steam, betrayal, and two men who shouldn't want each other... but can't stop

“What do you want from me, Don? I'm your wife.” My voice trembled as the reality of what Alessandro might do to me settled in like a forest fog. “Exactly what I should get knowing how talented your mother was.” He growled, not sounding at all like the man I loved, while he unzipped his dress pants. Sure, I wanted to get laid but not like this. ~~~ To Don Alessandro Moretti, Elena is nothing more than a tool of vengeance. The daughter of the woman who once shattered his father’s empire. But what Alessandro doesn’t know is this: The amnesiac woman he married is no lamb—she's the top assassin and hacker of a phantom organisation. And when her memories return… All hell will break loose.

She was supposed to die. She didn’t. Now she’s coming back for everything. Elara Cade thought love could survive anything—until her husband proved her wrong in the most brutal way. Betrayed. Broken. Pushed off a cliff with their three-year-old son. One survived. Barely. Now voiceless and scarred, Elara wakes in a hospital with no child, no identity, and no answers. But a stranger with stormy eyes and a name like a warning—Damien Rhys—refuses to let her slip into oblivion. He saved her life. But Elara? She’ll take what’s left of it and set the past on fire. Ashes Don’t Bleed is a searing tale of vengeance, rebirth, and the quiet rage of a woman who refuses to stay buried.

WARNING: This book is rated 18+ and will contain explicit sexual contents. He's off-limits. But tonight, I'm done pretending. Bell thinks I'm his sweet little girlfriend. But it's his stepdad who sees the real me— wet, needy, and aching to be ruined. One look. One whisper. One filthy promise. And just like that… I'm on the kitchen counter, legs wide, moaning "Daddy." This isn't just sex This is sin And it feels so damn good to be a sinner. Welcome to the diary of a sinner—where shame is foreplay and obedience tastes like lust. Where pleasure is punishment—and sin feels holy. This is a collection of raw, filthy, indulgent one-shots where no desire is too dark to explore, no boundary too sacred to cross. Each story is a confessional soaked in pleasure, punishment, and the bittersweet afterglow of release. And you’re going to love every one of them, especially if you're looking for a book filled with wild sexual fantasies. Join the ride, if you can control the heat.