Quotes Calm

Elena had once believed that silence could mean safety. That a gentle hand and a warm cup of tea placed quietly on her desk every morning could be a form of love. Lucien was never cruel—not in the obvious ways. He remembered how she liked her eggs, noticed when she swapped her perfume, and sent flowers on days he knew she wouldn’t expect them. He raised her like one would raise a pet—softly, without question. And Elena, foolish in the way only the very lonely can be, mistook his quiet affection for devotion. She told herself he was reserved. Mysterious. That love didn’t always wear its heart on its sleeve. But when the old flame returned—the one who spoke his language without needing to try—Elena saw it. The difference. He looked at her like a man who had found his lost religion. And Elena? She had simply been convenient. No tears, no scene. Just papers on the breakfast table, beside the eggs he cooked perfectly. She didn’t accuse or beg. She only asked for freedom. He didn’t sign. He chuckled. A soft, dismissive sound. “A cat raised indoors doesn’t know how to survive on the street, Elena. You’ll come back." But she didn’t. She disappeared, like smoke—except she didn’t vanish, not really. She lived. She wore colour again. Laughed at bad jokes. Let strange men hand her coffee and ask for her number. Lucien? He watched. He watched her become someone without him. And it drove him mad. The night he cornered her outside the gallery, rain in his hair and desperation in his eyes, he looked like a man undone. "Elena," he breathed, "please. Look at me. Just once." She did. Calm as ever, and her love already gone.

“Young lady, you need to control yourself. I don’t know what’s come over you, but I’m here to take care of you strictly as your doctor. I’m a dermatologist, and you have an allergy. So, please… stick to the plan.” Those were the firm, detached words of Dr. Nolan—one of the most famous dermatologists in all of Texas. His tone was calm, his eyes unreadable, his face hidden behind a face mask, he was nonchalant and couldn’t care less about her or mess with his patients. But for Aria, a 23-year-old who had never been in love, never even been kissed, the moment she stepped into his office her world shifted. One look at his tall figure, one brush of his deep voice, and her breath caught in her chest. Even without seeing his full face, she knew he was devastatingly handsome. For the first time in her life, her heart beat faster for a man. The test ended. The prescriptions were written. Aria gathered her courage and asked, “Can I have your contact?” His rejection was swift. Cold. “That won’t be possible.” Her heart sank as she walked out of the hospital, his indifference and cold voice pressing against her skin. But then her lips curved into a quiet, determined smile. “I will make you fall for me, Doctor.” And so begins the story of Aria and the nonchalant Dr. Nolan, a story of obsession, rejection, and irresistible temptation. Do you want to hear more? Then click the first chapter and dive in. Grab your popcorn, because this is only the beginning.

"I moaned, bringing my thighs wide, further. "Do you like it, Sienna?" I nodded like an idiot, forgetting the fact that he was my stepbrother. "I do like it, Soren." My breath caught in my chest as I felt warm juice spill through my punani, "I love it, Soren. Everything you do to me." ***** The confused, pleasure-hungry nerd who fell for her stepbrothers? That was me, Sienna Cruz. At first, I thought I'd be able to conquer the urge of wanting my stepbrothers but no, I fell more deeper—lost in the ocean of depravity and Sin. Simon is the calm one, we were close. He was soft hearted and I liked him. Whenever we talked, I would find myself staring at his bulge. His morning erection was damn beautiful. He would ask, "Sienna, are you okay?" I would nod, lying I was but deep down what I craved was every inch of him. All that wanted to break from my lips was "Bury your cock deep in my pussy. Break every wall of restriction." And Soren? He was the demon amongst the twin brothers. I thought I hated him until I found myself staring way too much at the photo mom forced us to take during summer. His Ocean Blue eyes pulled me in. The arrogant smirk on his face spelt more than it looked. He was way too charming. Who did I like more? Simon or Soren? I swear I do not know. Soren was a demon, yet I find myself crawling back to his bed and when Simon flashed that cute smile at me? It made me helpless. Soren's charm was more gripping. I fantasized a lot about his rod and all I wanted was for him to ruin me in the worst way ever.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.