Novelas y relatos de Romancing The Beat

"Look at me," Draven commands, his hand coming up to grip my chin. His leather glove is cold against my skin, forcing me to look up into the shadow of his hood. "I don't lie to you. He wraps his traps in silk and silver, but it’s still a trap." "Then show me," I challenge, tears of frustration pricking my eyes. I reach up, my fingers gripping the edge of his hood. "If you want me to believe you over a man who has given me everything, show me your face, Draven. No more masks. No more shadows. Let me see who is talking to me." He goes completely still. For a long, agonizing beat, the only sound is the distant chime of the Cathedral clock striking one. Slowly, his hand comes up over mine. He doesn't push me away. Instead, his fingers wrap around mine, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he pulls the hood back. The breath catches in my throat. ………..Damian claims he’s here to salvage her from a billionaire's trap of illicit blood diamonds. Lisa’s mind tells her he's a dangerous kidnapper who just destroyed her future. But the moment he drags her away from the high-society lights of Antwerp and into his luxurious mountain,everything gets messy.

As the Principessa of the Falcone family, I craved danger and absolute freedom. But on my ninety-ninth attempt to escape my arranged marriage, Vito Moretti finally caught me. My dangerously handsome betrothed cornered me at an underground racetrack. "No one walks away from me, Liliana," he smirked from his modified Mustang. "You're the first." With my weakness for dangerous men, I made a life or death wager. "Beat me on the track, and I'll marry you. Lose, and you get out of my life." Our engines roared as we tore along the cliffside road, its curves dangerously free of guardrails. Nearing the finish line, I took a turn too fast and hurtled toward the edge. But just inches from victory, Vito jerked his wheel. He slammed his car into mine, knocking me to safety as his own plunged into the icy bay below. I scrambled down the cliff, terrified, and dragged his bleeding body from the water. "I lost," he gasped, life fading from his eyes. "You're free." My heart shattered into a million dazzling pieces as tears streamed down my face. Startled by my reaction, Vito swore softly. "Don't cry. I'll tell our fathers the broken engagement was my choice. No one will dare lay a finger on you." I sobbed and pressed my lips to his. "To hell with the bet, Vito Moretti. I'm marrying you!"

Before the adopted son, Luther Anderson, jumped into the ocean to end his life, he sent a text message in the family group chat. [Oliver’s too good. I just can’t beat him. I’m done putting up a fight.] Everyone mourned for him. I was called a murderer. My entire family hated me for it. My older sister, Samantha Anderson, who had once gifted me a piano, smashed my bones with a bat. “Since your musical talents overwhelmed his, I’m going to ruin your hands.” My fiancee, Camila Reid, threw a knife at me. “He’s always been jealous of your handsome looks. He’s always been insecure about it. You should ruin your face to make it up to him.” My parents sent me to a mental asylum instead. “If Luther doesn’t come back home safe, you’ll spend the rest of your life here reflecting on your mistakes. “You’ll only be released once you learn how to treat your brother well.” After that, Luther suddenly showed up and claimed that he missed my parents. Hence, he made a grand appearance. I also learned from the incident. I ignored my parents’ favoritism. However, everyone started to panic. “Oliver, are you going to desert us?”

Amanda knew her husband’s affections were never hers, especially when she had gotten married in the place of her sister, Selene. But even still she hoped Ryan would come to love her, so she endured the endless abuse from his mother, and the pressure to beat an heir for the esteemed Steward family. Amanda had sacrificed everything to be the perfect wife, from her job as a doctor to her freedom, wanting nothing more than to be acknowledged by the man she loved. But her hopes come crashing down when Selene returns pregnant with Ryan’s child. Amanda was abandoned without a thought, even when she revealed she was also pregnant, it meant nothing to Ryan Steward. Just like that Amanda was left to fend for herself, as even her parents turned a blind eye to it all. But she was determined to rise again, and she chose to pursue her dreams to give her child a secure future. Seven years later, Amanda had grown to become the most sought-after doctor in the country, and she had a brilliant son to support her. But what happens when fate brings her to meet Ryan once again, but this time as a doctor and client? What happens when he begs for her forgiveness for the past? Will Amanda forget the pain she endured and accept him? Or will their reunion set the path for a more thrilling train of events?

"We'd like you to come with us to the station immediately," Vanessa's heart began to beat faster, "I don't understand," she said, "What for?" "Mrs Spencer, you're wanted as a prime suspect in the murder of your husband, Mr Christopher Wesley. You need to come with us to the station for questioning. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you do or say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. I suggest you don't try to resist. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?" Vanessa's jaw dropped. Christopher was dead! It was impossible to believe. She'd just spoken to him that afternoon. It had to be a mistake. She nodded, "I…. I…. I need to call my lawyer," she said, when she finally found her tongue," "Ma'am, you can do that at the station. Turn around, please," —----------- Politician and governorship aspirant , Christopher Wesley is dead ; shot in the head right in his own house. The killer is unknown, but the police have a suspect —his estranged wife, Vanessa Spencer Detective Alaric Harper and his partner are placed in charge of this case and at first Alaric is certain that Vanessa had killed her husband. Her motive? He's not sure of. Could it be spite? Maybe the money? Or maybe she just got tired of him delaying their divorce? He's determined to find out and he's sure that he will, but one thing he never expected — falling for her…..

Based on gender-based violence If you were ever in a position where you couldn't defend yourself - please read the book. There is always someone out there who is willing to help! “if you can’t handle the punches, how will you ever stop them from abusing you?” “Hit me?” Blake yells. Making my eyes watery and angry. “Hit me, or I will hit you,” he said again. I picked up my fist to punch him as hard as I can, but he grabbed me and picked me up before my fist could connect with his jaw. Our eyes melted together, and I’m slowly disappearing into a dark place the more I stare. Emily Dawson was walking home one night from a small restaurant In Virginia where she works to pay for her doctor’s degree when she got jumped by three-man. they beat her and took all of her belongings. 12 years ago, her stepfather abused Emily when she was a child, so she never learned how to defend herself until Blake, the most popular and successful kickboxer in town, came to her rescue. At first, it was only about training and helping Emily get over her fears and learn how to defend herself until she fell in love with him, but that was a dark place she had to go in. Blake has a past of mistreating women, not abusing them but using them. Will he fall in love with her as well? Or will he keep their relationship with no strings attached?

After I, Wynn Jaffe, the Chief Forensic Pathologist, submitted my request to transfer into a clerical position, everyone in the department lit up with joy and approved it unanimously. Everyone except my boyfriend’s childhood friend, Yvette Hans, the rookie forensic doctor who called herself the ‘corpse whisperer,’ completely broke down. She burst into my office, grabbed onto my white coat with both hands with reddened eyes. “Senior, your skills may be outdated, but I truly hope you’ll stay and keep speaking up for the victims!” I coldly shrugged off her hand, packed my things, and walked away. In my previous life, she claimed herself as the ‘corpse whisperer,’ someone who could commune with the dead, hear their murmurs, and know what happened to them before they died. I worked tirelessly on every autopsy, dissecting, analyzing, and revising my reports. She only needed a single glance at the body to recite my entire report word-for-word. The victims’ families treated her like a saint, while they sneered at me, accusing me of disrespecting the dead. I could not accept it. I poured everything I had into every examination, but she always beat me to it, revealing the truth before I could. In the end, an extreme group of grieving family members, convinced I desecrated a corpse, kidnapped me, dismembered me, and dumped my remains in the wilderness. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn back to the very day Yvette first claimed she was a corpse whisperer.

In my final year of high school, my parents died, leaving me nothing but a crumbling brick house. And yet, I somehow got myself a younger brother. He was a second-year student at our school, at the top of his grade. But no one respected him. Even when he was bullied, the teachers turned a blind eye. Why? Because even if others didn't beat him, his drunken father did it every day, while his cowardly mother never dared to fight back. I dragged him home with all my strength, patched up his wounds, and kept him with me for several days. Later, when his mother was beaten to death, I called the police and had his father arrested. "Hey," I told him, "from now on, live with me. I don't have any family left. Call me sister, and I'll put you through school." He dreamed of getting into a prestigious university. So I dropped out, set up a street stall, sold my own blood, and even took illegal jobs just to support him. When he graduated, he said he wanted to start a business. I gave him every cent of my savings. And then one day, I watched him stand beneath the dazzling lights, a radiant girl at his side, holding a trophy for a youth entrepreneurship award. I looked down at the cancer diagnosis in my hands. A bitter smile tugged at my lips. In the end, I had raised him into someone I could no longer reach. It was time for me to leave the stage.

I miss out on a call from my fiancee, Lauren Sink, because my phone is out of service when I'm in the elevator. The next thing I know, I receive a text from her, stating that our wedding has gotten called off. "Let's call off our wedding. I don't want to marry you anymore. Gregory isn't feeling well, so I've gone over to his place to take care of him. I don't want you disturbing us." This is the 99th time Lauren has called off our wedding because of Gregory Cooper. But this time, I don't get to plead to Lauren in time because I'm in too much agony from the news. Suddenly, I see a row of comments appearing before my eyes. "Why aren't you pleading with Lauren to stay with you, Cameron? She loves you, you know! She just doesn't know how to convey her feelings for you!" "She doesn't love Gregory at all! She gets close to him and calls off the wedding with you just to make you jealous!" "If Lauren genuinely doesn't want you to disturb her, why would she tell you where she is? Hurry up and please her already!" My heart skips a beat at the sight. So… So Lauren has loved me all this time? But I don't want the love that I can't feel at all.

“You’re nothing but a slut who crawled into my bed for money—worth less than braille to me.” Nich’s voice was flat, cold, and utterly void of emotion, every word a sharp blade straight to my heart. “N… Nich!” I clung to him from behind, desperate to believe he didn’t mean it—only for him to pry my arms away and shove me aside roughly. “You’re a whore… the most disgusting woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” The slap cracked against my cheek, hard and stinging. Alongside it, he tossed a cheque—half a million pesos—right at my feet. “Get out of my life. Don’t ever let me see your face again.” A bitter, broken laugh bubbled up my throat. I tore the cheque into tiny pieces without a second thought. Tears streamed down my face, but I forced a sharp, unyielding smile. “Fine. I’m leaving. Keep your money. You think as a big-shot CEO you can buy anything you want? You’re wrong. My dignity isn’t for sale—not to a fool, and certainly not to a man as blind and stupid as you.” “From this moment on… we never knew each other.” Every beat of my heart felt like it was being pierced by a thousand needles. I once hoped there was goodness even among the wealthy—but I was wrong. Today I learned the cruel truth: for people like him, money is the only law, and wealth is the only justice that matters.