Roman Series Novels & Stories

He started protesting at Liam. "You shouldn't let a guard like that stay beside you," Rang said sarcastically, but his tone was laced with unconcealable unhappiness. Rang was an old man with dull brown coloured hair. There was a wound on his left temple he got in a battle with humans decades ago. The wound couldn't be healed completely no matter what treatment he tried. “The previous king would have imposed a severe punishment because he dared to express his own opinion in such an important meeting.”

The thunk and swish of something by my head caught my attention and I saw Cassi’s ball and chain connect with the face of a Nephilim, who staggered backwards clutching his face, blood pouring down. “Pay attention Liam” she growled, her eyes hard as she dropped into her fighting stance, readying herself for the next strike. The Nephilim screeched as he launched himself at her, she swung again and I heard his skull crack, blood pouring from the side of his head. Quick as lightning I unsheathed my blades and swung them together, so they cut his head clean off before he even knew what was happening. His eyes wide in surprise and mouth formed an O as blood sprayed through the air, the tang of blo

He dusted off his tunic and while he did a group of people had formed behind us. “Noblemen and women, I am Romulus, the owner of the Nubian, famous for his large cock. No normal woman can take him, therefore I bring to you four of the most exotic and beautiful women in all lands so you can, with your own eyes, watch as the Nubian ravishes them.”

AURORA I’ve known the Romanos since I was eighteen—barely old enough to drink, barely old enough to understand what real power looked like. And yet, even then, I saw it in them. I felt it. Their name didn’t just command fear—it commanded reverence. Years passed, but time with the Romanos wasn’t measured in calendars. It was measured in blood, in loyalty, in the weight of silence between unspoken truths. The Romano—Viktor, Dominic, Sammy, or even Alessandro Romano, were not the kind of people who wore their hearts on their sleeves. They were tough nuts. But when the matter came to their hearts, they were weak.

Roman says with a death glare in his eyes as he gets up from his chair, holding his hand out for me, keeping up the facade of being the perfect gentleman. “Please don't hurt Ryan.” I say with tears in my eyes. “When I'm done with you princess, you would wish I had taken out my anger on Ryan.” Roman says with a determined crazed look in his eyes.

' She asked resting her back on the wall. 'Between Roman and Roy who is more dangerous when crossed?' 'Roy might have a look of a dangerous Alpha but he is actually less mean when crossed but you see your bright and go-lucky-guy natured Roman, he doesn't forgive that easily,' Selene answered. 'Even family?' I asked. 'No family has ever crossed him until Emma. Even in fight Roman is the most ruthless. You see that reputation of being ruthless, it is mainly Romans' reputation. They are just painting them with the same brush because they are twins,' Selene explained further

“You’re stubborn, you know that?” “I’ve been called worse.” Though it didn't reach his eyes, a tiny smile tugged at his lips. “Fine. But if you’re in, you’re in all the way. No turning back.” With my heart racing, I nodded. "I get it." His voice trailed off to a whisper of conspiracy as he leaned nearer. “Roman isn’t just dangerous—he’s connected. Powerful people owe him favors, and they’ll protect him at all costs.” "What about Camille?" With a deliberately bland tone, I asked

The world did not yet know it, but Rome had begun to bleed. Far from the shadows of Dante Moretti’s empire and the ruins of the Marcello estate, a new storm was brewing—silent, patient, and deadly. In the vaulted crypt beneath Geneva, surrounded by sealed documents and codes older than the Council itself, the Romanos had returned from the grave. Not just to haunt. But to reign. Geneva – Council Vaults Giordano Romano moved like a man reborn, the years in hiding etched into the lines of his face, not with weakness, but with fury sharpened into resolve.

The driver's side door flung open immediately, and Roman stepped out onto the stones, his massive frame unfolding from the vehicle like a force of nature. He took one look at me standing there shirtless, covered in a light sheen of sweat and another man's blood, then looked down at Graham's weeping, bleeding form sprawled beneath me. He didn't even blink. His expression remained neutral… he'd seen worse, done worse, and we both knew it. He just removed the unlit cigarette from his mouth and tucked it behind his ear with casual efficiency. "Well," Roman said, his voice a dry, gravelly bark as he walked over, his heavy leather boots clicking against the stones in a steady rhythm, "looks like t

Roman. The sound of her name in his mouth made every muscle in her body tighten. She closed the chest, straightened, forcing her face into calm. The dagger pressed against her arm like a secret heartbeat. “Come in,” she said softly. The door opened. He stood there, Roman Voss, tall enough that the light behind him framed him like some carved statue. His shirt was open at the throat, the mark of his bloodline curling along his collarbone like a living vine. His hair was still damp from a recent wash, the dark strands falling into his eyes.