Novel & Cerita Pollen Count Brooklyn

"I've got just one body count," Elara breathed, lips trembling. "Do you wish to make it two?" Alpha Kael's mouth hovered inches from hers. "Take off those glasses," he whispered hotly, "and loosen that hair... so I can have a reason to ruin you." He must keep her for one hundred nights. On the final night, he is destined to kill her, or remain a monster forever. *** The Alpha King carries an ancient curse. His only hope of redemption is to find his fated mate, bind her to him, and survive one hundred nights without losing control. But the curse was never that simple. If she survives the last night, his humanity can only be restored through her death. To locate her without revealing his true nature, he walks among humans as a powerful and ruthless billionaire, concealing the beast behind a polished exterior. He expects a long, difficult search, he never expected her to be standing right in front of him. ***. She is the talented fashion stylist assigned to take his measurements. Just another client, and just another job. Or so she believes. But with every fitting, every charged glance, and every brush of her fingers against his skin, the rules grow harder for him to remember...and the danger becomes impossible for her to ignore. Because some curses are not broken by survival, They are broken by love.

She thought she could endure a loveless marriage to repay her family’s debt—but she didn’t count on the cost of her heart. Once the proud daughter of a wealthy businessman, ELENA BRADFORD watched her life crumble when her father’s betrayal left her and her mother drowning in debt. Desperate to protect her family, she reluctantly agreed to a marriage contract with her father’s former business partner’s reckless son, ADRIAN HAWTHORNE—a man who once loved her during their university days but now only mocks her fall from grace. Trapped in a cold marriage filled with scorn and humiliation, Elena finds herself suffocating under the weight of Adrian’s cruelty. But everything changes at a high-profile dinner when she locks eyes with the one person she never thought she’d see again—LUCAS EVERHART, her childhood best friend, who once confessed his love before vanishing from her life. Now a powerful CEO, Lucas is stunned to see the woman he loved trapped in a toxic marriage. Learning of her misery, he vows to free her from the chains of her past—even if it means clashing with Adrian who refuses to let her go. As old feelings reignite and secrets unravel, Elena must decide: will she fight for the love she once believed in, or will her past mistakes keep her from the future she deserves?

I'd just put the condom on when someone started pounding on the door. My wife, Jocelyn Gill, shoved me aside, panic all over her face. I shot a glare at the door. Her adopted brother, Calvin Tyler, stood there, flushed, staring at her. The bulge in his pants wasn't subtle. "Jocelyn, please help me. I feel awful. I think I'm having an episode!" Seeing him like that, nothing like before, my temper snapped. "Then go get treated. Why are you barging into your sister's room? You got no shame? You can't even get married because of this, so now you're wrecking mine?" Jocelyn rushed over and slapped me. "Finley, how can you say that? Calvin's still a kid. How could he think something that disgusting? Before his parents died, they asked me to take care of him. I'm a psychiatrist—if I don't treat him, how do I face them? You're acting nothing like a brother-in-law. Apologize to Calvin right now, or we're getting divorced!" In two years of marriage, I'd lost count of how many times she'd pulled that card over Calvin. Back then, I'd risked my life just to win her. She thought I'd never leave. She was wrong. This time, I was done loving her.

When the heatwave apocalypse hits the Earth, the ozone layer has completely dissipated, forcing mankind to move into the underground city. My husband, Rhett Calloway, and I get to stay on Level Two, seeing as we've funded the construction of the underground city. On day in the third year of the heatwave apocalypse, Rhett brings back a sickly young woman from the slums located on Level Three out of the blue. "Nora, the living conditions on Level Three are very difficult. Anna is in poor health. I can't just sit by and watch her suffer." After that, Rhett carries Anna Archer into our home. I keep my gaze lowered as I remind him, "Don't forget that there's a strict population count on Level Two. The available slots in every family are fixed." "I know that. That's why you need to head down to the slums on Level Three to replace Anna for the time being. Once she recovers from her illness, I'll bring you home." The moment I hear Rhett's response, I remain rooted to the spot for a long time. After walking out the front door, I do my best to suppress the quiver in my tone as I call a number that belongs to Level One. "I've already thought it through. I've decided to join the project to end the apocalypse on Level One."

Divorced and remarried—I've lost count of how many times Aaron and I stepped in and out of marriage. He once treated me like something precious, but less than a year after our wedding, he asked for our first divorce. The reason was simple, Vivian was coming back. "Vivian's a public figure," he told me. "I don't want anyone thinking she's involved with a married man." That third-tier actress had nothing but her father's sacrifice to her name. He had taken a bullet for Aaron—a life for a life. And because of that, Aaron believed he owed her everything. Every time Vivian returned to the country, Aaron divorced me. And every time she left, we remarried. The first time we split, I drowned my tears in whiskey and stumbled back to his house half-drunk. The lights inside were warm. He was with her. And I stood outside, shivering through the night. The second time, I tracked his every move—restaurants, auctions, charity galas—just to "accidentally" run into him again. Later, I learned better. The moment he mentioned divorce, I would quietly pack my suitcase and disappear from his mansion. My love and humiliation kept me trapped in that endless cycle of breaking up and coming back together. But this time, when Aaron waited for me at City Hall to remarry, I never showed up.

From the time I could count coins, my parents hammered one lesson home—if a boy did not start saving young, he would never have enough to win himself a wife. They opened a bank account in my name, vowing that money would only ever flow in, never out. And so, every birthday bill and crumpled allowance found a home in that card. I kept funneling every hard-earned paycheck into that same old account even after I moved to the city to chase my own future. At that point, that habit was done more out of reflex than reason. However, I was blindsided by acute kidney failure after years of working myself to the bone. Suddenly, that money was not just savings—it was my lifeline. My dad's voice trembled on the phone. He claimed he had forgotten the password and urged me to just take out an online loan for now. I hauled myself to the bank, my feet still shaky from my dialysis treatment. I clutched my ID, determined to file a loss report and reset the password myself. The teller's words froze me in place. "Sir, this account was emptied six months ago." Panic surged through me. I demanded a full printout of every transaction. The statement of the most recent transfer glared up at me from the paper, stating, "Wedding fund for our precious daughter, Natalia Callahan, plus the down payment for her luxury car."

After returning home from a flight, I realize that my bottle of hair conditioner has run out in the bathroom. The thing is, my husband, Carlos Zappa, doesn't use hair conditioner at all. Seeing Carlos through the frosted glass, I decide to probe him for answers. "Did any guests stay over lately? Or have you started doing hair care?" Carlos flips through the documents, which are stamped with the Zappa family crest, impatiently at my questions. "Maybe a maid accidentally toppled the bottle over when she was cleaning the bathroom. Also, why are you annoying me with such minuscule matters?" When I put on the bathrobe, I feel a ticklish sensation coming from the collar. As soon as I look down, I notice a strand of dried yellow hair being entangled in the collar. The moment the steam dissipates, I see two pairs of intertwining handprints on the bathroom's glass door. I never thought that my home would grow this popular during my one-week trip away from home. I've been married to Carlos for three years, and yet this is my first time finding out that he's actually this wild in bed. So, I secretly text my father, the Don of the Carozza family. "Dad, Carlos has cheated on me. Does the bet we made three years ago still count?"

He closed the gap between us and his hand travelled to my waist, pulling me closer to himself. His cologne filled my nostrils and he cupped my face in his hand gently. The look in his eyes whenever he looked at me always seemed like he was watching something so ethereal and now wasn't any different. I was supposed to hate him, to not be able to stand him. But why was I letting him do this? And why did I like it too? Love it even? He smirked at me, leaning down with our lips almost touching, his minty breath fanning my face. "I'm fucking addicted and obsessed with you if you haven't noticed." He paused as he studied me while I took a deep breath. "Are you sure you can't stand me?" He asked. "Or are we going to keep on lying to ourselves, babydoll?" ~ Vittoria Belluci, popularly known as 'Lilith' is short tempered, bossy, fiesty, poor social skills and a beautiful resting bitch face. Roman Argentero, Brooklyn's popular mafia don known for his playboy status, cockiness, flirtatious behavior but also ruthless and finally his Greek god appearance. A one night stand in the past, an arranged marriage, a stupid bet, a hatred she has for him and his family, and an addiction he has to her. Will she find out how her sister died? Or who keeps wanting to kill off her family? And doing all that with a fragile promise to herself to not fall in love. What happens when a Belluci falls in love with an Argentero who is already addicted to her?

Torn between the billionaire who broke her and the mafia prince who’d kill to keep her. Three years ago, Victor Kane—cold, powerful billionaire—shattered Isabella "Bella" Moretti with one cruel sentence: “You’re too fragile for my world.” He walked away, leaving her heartbroken on the marble floors of his Manhattan penthouse. She rebuilt her life in Brooklyn’s shadows, vowing never to return to his glittering, controlling empire. But Victor doesn’t let go so easily. Now he’s back—wealthier, darker, more obsessive. Private jets, diamond collars, whispered commands in the dark: he wants her again. And this time, he’ll chain her to him forever. Then there’s Nico Moretti—her childhood best friend, the dangerously handsome heir to New York’s most feared crime family. The man who’s held her through every storm, buried her secrets, and never once demanded more. Until Victor reappears. Nico’s loyalty ignites into raw possession. His touches burn hotter. His eyes promise violence to anyone who tries to take her. He’s done waiting in the shadows. If she won’t choose him, no one else will have her. Two alphas. One rules boardrooms with ice and billions. The other rules streets with blood and loyalty. Both are dangerously obsessed. Both will destroy everything to claim her body and soul. In a deadly game of jealousy, betrayal, and scorching desire, Bella must decide: Surrender to the ex who once ruined her? Or fall into the arms of the best friend who’ll burn the world to own her? One woman. Two monsters. No safe escape.

My sister, Bella, had a baby in a back-alley shithole. Then she disappeared. A midwife tracked me down using an address Bella left behind. She shoved the newborn at me like a sack of garbage. My parents fell to their knees. Crying. Begging me to take her bastard. Just like that, my future as a promising artist was gone. The neighbors, the priest, my landlord… they all called me a whore. A sinner who had disgraced God. They ran me out of the neighborhood . My life was over. Eighteen years later, Bella waltzed back into my life. A cheap thug with a fake Rolex dangled from her arm. She held my son, crocodile tears streaming down her face. She called me jealous. Accused me of stealing her flesh and blood. Of keeping a mother from her child. And my son? The one I bled myself dry for? The son I poured every last cent into, turning him into a brilliant painter? The son I starved for, so much that I ended up in a hospital bed? The moment he saw his "real" mother, he cast me aside without a second thought. "You pathetic, broke bitch!" he spat. "You stole everything from us! All the happiness that was supposed to be ours!" My parents threw me out like a dog. Bella's thug husband had his men corner me in the red-light district. They pinned me against a wall, their threats vile and clear: Never come back. I had no way out. I threw myself off the Brooklyn Bridge. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back. Eighteen years in the past. Then came the knock. Hell had found my door. I wasn’t going to be the fool who gave everything and got nothing. This time, I took control.