Project Libitina

Haunted by her sister Sofia’s murder, marked by the signature black rose of the powerful Moretti crime family, FBI Agent Elena Rossi goes deep undercover as “Lia Moretti.” Her mission: find the killer and burn the organization from within her greatest obstacle: Dante Moretti, the lethally perceptive underboss who sees through her disguise almost immediately. Instead of exposing her, Dante makes her a twisted offer: her secrets become his to control, and in return, he grants her his protection from the rest of the family, for whom discovery means a death sentence. Forced into his trajectory as his personal project, Elena walks on a razor’s edge between her mission and her survival, while Dante’s cold dominance ignites a dangerous, all-consuming passion. As Elena digs for the truth, she finds her sister’s trail leads shockingly close to Dante himself. Her investigation is a minefield of conflicting clues, betraying her badge and her sister’s memory with every moment she spends in his arms. When a black rose appears on her own pillow a direct threat and her FBI handler forces her to betray Dante, her two worlds violently collide. Exposed and hunted by both the mafia and her own agency, Elena and Dante are thrown together as fugitives. In their raw, desperate alliance, they uncover a truth more shattering than either imagined: Sofia’s death was a message in a secret war within the family, and the real killer is the last person Dante ever suspected. To get justice, Elena must help the man she was sent to destroy and wage a brutal war for the soul of his empire.

“I thought what we had was real. I never for once played with the thought that you could be playing me.” His hands were running aggressively across his hair. “I was with you for revenge, Shawn. Did you really think you were going to get away with what you did to me?” I queried without remorse. His mouth slowly curled at a corner. “Do you want to know what I'll get away with right now? I'll get away with banging you hard tonight and then dumping you in the morning.” He closed the distance between us, and planted his lips on mine before I could protest. —— Calista Whitaker underwent a traumatic experience at the hands of Shawn Donnelly and his gang at High School. Shawn was holding a night party in his house and had invited Calista to come over and be his date. Calista who had been crushing on Shawn for over five years was elated and gladly went with high hopes. She gave her innocence to Shawn that night but only to wake up the next morning to find Shawn and his friends taking pictures of her naked. Turns out Shawn only approached her over a bet with his friends and soon, Calista’s nudes were flying all over the internet. Calista was both heartbroken and humiliated and her parents had to send her to stay with her grandma in the countryside. Six years later, Calista crossed paths with Shawn once again but as a representative of her company to take on the construction project of the company Shawn owned. Past emotions resurfaced the moment the two met again, and Calista now wanted nothing more than to make Shawn pay for all that he had done to her in the past.

Everywhere becomes silent as every single pair of eyes turn to us and although I'm used to attention, it's never been in this type of situation and I find myself wondering how to handle it. All worries fly out the window though when Hunter grabs my hand after locking his car. Murmurs erupt in every angle of the school ground at his actions and I glance at Hunter only to see a look of determination on his face. What is he up to? He suddenly turns me towards him and traps me against the car door. "You're right, we need to clear one misunderstanding" he states his breath fanning my face. "And what would that be?" I breath out already dazed by him. Get a grip Daisy, you're out in public! "That you are mine and all other boys can fuck off" He answers hoarsely just as he finally closes the space between us and takes my lips for a world-rocking kiss. ************* Daisy Heart is a friendly heiress with great friends who just wants to have a good high school experience. She thinks everything is beautiful except the heir to the Stone Empire: Hunter Stone. Hunter Stone is a playboy Heir who just wants to have a good time while young before responsibilities come knocking. He thinks everything is fun except the heiress to the Heart group of Hotels: Daisy Heart. After being forced into being partners and roommates for a school camp project, Hunter and Daisy are determined to make each other's life hell. The undeniable attraction between them certainly doesn't help. To make things worse, Hunter also knows that Daisy has feelings for his best friend. Sequel to series of fights, failed pranks and arguments, fate offers to deal a final blow to the situation. An arranged marriage.

The doors of elite research institutions aren't open to the unknown. But Rick Allen pulled Beth out of nowhere. He poured everything into nurturing her talent and promised her the world. The Allen family's compromise was simple: the Chief Young Scientist had to be Summer Belden—someone from their own social circle. From that day on, the words Rick said to Beth most often were, "Just wait a little longer." He told her to wait when her groundbreaking paper was published under Summer's name in exchange for research funding. He told her to wait again when the research she'd perfected over three years was packaged as Summer's signature work, paving the way to major awards. "The bigger picture comes first," he said. "The next Nobel Prize—I'll make sure it's yours." But when the paper credited to Summer—though written by Beth—was exposed for fabricated data, everyone reached the same conclusion: Beth, as a core member of the project, had tampered with the data to steal the credit. Locked in a glass-walled archive room, Beth looked at Rick standing outside the door. His gaze was ice-cold, full of disappointment. "Why did you touch the data?" he said. "You've ruined everything I've built." She remembered how he once told her, "In this world, yours is the only talent I truly recognize." He had promised, "I'll make sure achievements with your name hang among the stars." Now he stood with the others, judging her. He looked at her the way people look at a ruthless, ambitious fraud. When she was finally released, Beth dug her nails into her palm until blood ran down. This time, she wouldn't wait any longer.

The classified project I was working on wrapped up ahead of schedule, so I made sure to get back on my daughter's birthday. When I walked in, a girl I had never seen before was wearing my daughter's princess dress, a crown perched on her head. She sat in front of a cake as tall as she was, eyes closed, making a wish. I frowned and stepped closer. "Who are you? Why are you wearing my daughter's dress? Where's Heidi?" Before she could answer, two housemaids rushed out and started yelling at me. "Where the hell did you come from? How dare you talk to our boss's daughter like that? If you know what's good for you, get out! When the boss gets back, you won't like what happens." I stood there, confused. Boss? The boss's daughter? In this house, wasn't it just me and my daughter, Heidi Foster? I barely had time to speak before they shoved me toward the front door. In the middle of the pushing, something caught my eye. Off to the side, chained to a pillar, was Heidi. The girl I used to hold like she was the most precious thing in the world was now sprawled on the ground, digging through a dog bowl for food. A thick iron chain was locked around her neck, and her body was covered in bruises. My vision tightened. "Heidi, what happened to you?" The moment our eyes met, her hollow gaze filled with tears. She shrank back, then let out a soft bark at me, like a frightened dog. The maids looked at her with open disgust. One of them sneered, "Our boss said that that little thing was born to live like a dog. You have to keep her chained up if you want her to behave."

When I was three years old, my twin brothers, Silas and Julian, nearly died in an explosion while trying to save me. The Vampire King happened to pass by and turned them into high-ranking vampires. He had wanted to turn me too, so our family could stay together forever, but they refused. The King's power was too overwhelming, they said-the transformation would be agonizing. So they promised to turn me themselves when I turned eighteen. They spent every last penny they had on an impossibly rare serum-a blood-calming agent that would ensure I survived the transformation safely. But six months ago, they brought home a fifteen-year-old human orphan named Elena. Silas snatched my serum and handed it to Elena, his voice cold as ice. "You're strong enough to endure the transformation on your own. Elena is far more fragile than you-she needs this more." Julian's face twisted with undisguised contempt. He pointed at the door and snarled, "Get out! Don't come back until you learn to share!" I didn't say a word. I picked up the suitcase I'd already packed and disappeared into the rainy night. They assumed I was just throwing a tantrum. They figured I'd come crawling back in a few days. To celebrate ridding themselves of their "burden," they took the orphan on a vacation to the Caribbean coast-the trip I'd been dreaming about for years. But when they returned to the castle two weeks later, they were stunned to discover that I had undergone the Vampire King's transformation personally. Not only that-I had voluntarily signed a hundred-year agreement to join a classified isolation research project studying resistance to holy silver and crucifixes. A century of solitary confinement. I was never coming back. That day, they completely fell apart.

I collapsed at work and rushed to the hospital. When I saw the pregnancy test results, my heart filled with joy. Finally, something to save our loveless marriage. But my billionaire husband Ethan didn't ask if I was okay. He yelled at me for missing work. I noticed a Tiffany box in his car and my hope returned. Maybe he does care. Maybe he bought me something special. That night, his stepsister Mara came home after years abroad. She walked into our dining room wearing the necklace from that box. The one I thought was mine. She smiled at me while touching the diamonds around her neck. Then she took my seat in his car. My project at work. My place at the dinner table. Even my bedroom felt like hers. When the elevator crashed and we both screamed for help, Ethan came running. He pulled her out first. He held her like she was his whole world. He left me bleeding on the floor, begging him to save our baby. I heard them talking through the hospital wall. Mara asked if he loved me. The silence that followed broke something inside me I can never fix. His grandfather kept them apart because they're stepsiblings. Now he's dead. Now she's back. And I'm just the wife standing in her way. I'm pregnant with his child, but I'm starting to realize the truth. I was never his first choice. I was never even his second. I was just someone to fill the space until she came home. The question is, will I stay and watch him choose her over and over again? Or will I finally choose myself?

After my hundredth disastrous blind date, my best friend and I made a bold decision: we would have children without husbands. She chose sperm from a brilliant PhD donor. I chose a donor with an eight-nation mixed heritage. Later, the PhD donor from Kingsford University was diagnosed with low sperm motility and decided he wanted to marry my friend, Melissa Shaw. She agreed. Whenever she saw me going to my prenatal checkups alone, Melissa would wrap her arm around her husband and mock me. "You're destined to be alone," she sneered. "You can't even find a man to marry you. My husband just launched a major national research project. His future is limitless." What she did not know was that the father of my child was the Prince of Dubaria. He took me back to his country and made me his princess. The jewels I wore were so heavy they practically weighed me down. However, after she saw the yacht I posted on social media, Melissa suddenly called me in tears. "I don't know what happened," she sobbed. "My husband's project was suddenly suspended. We can barely afford baby formula for our child." She said she wanted to make up and even asked if I would be her child’s godmother. However, the moment I stepped through her door, she raised a chainsaw and hacked me to death. "Why do you get to live a better life than me?" she screamed. "Just because you chose better sperm?!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my best friend and I first decided to have children without husbands.

In my previous life, I, Ruth Spencer, fell seriously ill. Because of that, I managed to stop my husband, Zayne Colman, from going on a business trip to the country border. He immediately canceled his flight, pulled me into his arms, and gently comforted me. Over the phone, he gave instructions to my younger sister, Reagan Spencer. "The project comes first. You go in my place." But no one could have known that the so-called business partner was actually a ruthless scam syndicate. Reagan had her organs harvested and was tortured to death. I was devastated. Zayne held my frail body in his arms and hoarsely promised that even though Reagan was gone, he would still love me twice as much. And he kept his promise. For ten years, he never let me suffer at all. In fact, he spoiled me rotten. This went on until the day I gave birth. The pain nearly knocked me unconscious, but Zayne put his hand over the call button to prevent me from summoning help. The words he spoke were laced with malice. "If you hadn't gotten sick at such a convenient time back then, Reagan wouldn't have gone alone! I could have saved her. "It's your fault she's dead! She must feel so lonely down there. You and this bastard child can go keep her company!" That was when I finally realized that our love were nothing but a lie. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day he is about to leave for that trip to the border. This time, I release them to the path leading to freedom, or, in other words, to hell.

Everyone said I was too possessive when it came to my girlfriend, Amanda Crane. When Amanda first started taking photos of her childhood friend, Ian Lewis, I ripped apart all the rolls of film. When she helped him fix his computer, I called her 100 times in an hour. And when he called her from the airport, asking her to pick him up because the rain made it impossible to get a cab, I held a knife to my throat. I told her I'd take my own life if she went to him. Fed up, Amanda shipped me off to a psychiatric hospital that same night. When I got out, I vanished. Amanda was certain I was hiding somewhere, spying on her and Ian, but I never showed up—until the celebration party for a business project three years later. Ian put his arm around Amanda and swirled the wine glass he was holding. He shot me a taunting look, remarking, "You used to get so jealous, Steven. I'm sure you no longer mind if Mandy and I drink from the same glass now, right?" He waited for me to go berserk the way I used to three years ago, but I simply moved the bottle of wine closer to them. "I don't mind at all, of course. Have as many glasses as you want. It's great to see that your relationship has been progressing so well." Amanda paused. Her eyes started to redden. She stared fixedly at me and questioned, "Why don't you feel jealous anymore, Steven?"