Romantic Killer Book Novels & Stories

“Are you Nightingale’s little b*stard?” “Who are you?” “I’m Darren Cain. That b*tch Nightingale killed my sister and my son. I’m going to take your life in return!” “You can’t blame me for that when it has nothing to do with me!” Colors drained from the horrified woman’s face. Darren was not bothered about that. He slapped her a few times across the face and went on to ripping her clothes off. “You’ve even given birth to foreign b*stards. Let me see how much of a sl*t you actually are!”

I couldn’t breathe, my lungs refused to draw in a breath. Dante’s voice was quiet and dangerous, rough with warning as he said, “Because I missed you.” He directed a cold smirk at me as he added, "Little sister." _____ Hello, dear readers. I write Dark Romance- about mafia, bully, arrange marriage, obsessed anti-heroes that you'll always fall in love with. And the theme of this book is the same. But this is the first time I am writing a book with mmfm. And if you skipped the Introduction, please note, this book will be DARK, with various themes you might not be comfortable with. A. Gupta

It was the recognition in his gaze, like he'd been looking for me. "Cassandra Roglas," he said. Not a question. Ice slid down my spine. "How do you know my name?" "Everyone here knows the Roglas name." He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping champagne from his hands with slow, deliberate movements. His accent was Italian, refined, dangerous. "Though you don't seem eager to claim it." "I don't know what you mean." "No?" His eyes tracked over my face, reading something I didn't want him to see. "You've been trying to disappear into the walls since you arrived. Either you're afraid of someone in this room, or you don't want to be found."

TW-RAPE (not a scene just a mention) “The Black Hunter strikes us once yet again leaving a gruesome mess in the house of the murdered. Despite being a messy murderer, not a trace of DNA can be found. Careful. Whoever he is, what does he want and why has he targeted these specific targets?”

SCARLETT I slumped onto my bed, feeling like a damn cliché. It was him. All this while, it’s been him. Damien Hunter. My brother’s arch nemesis and the heir to the mafia throne. Not just any mafia, but my family's sworn rival. He was my stranger… has been my stranger all these while. The only person I have relived my wildest and dirtiest sexual fantasies with. Talk about a plot twist straight out of a trashy romance novel.

I wouldn’t need more. I didn't want to kill Pascal from a distance; I wanted to be close. Close enough to feel the breath leaving his body. I didn't want to make that mistake again. If Rafa wanted honesty, the truth was simple. Pascal wouldn't stop, not until he finished what he started. Not until one of us is dead. I walked to the address Pascal gave me. That sneaky bastard slipped a note in my pocket while I wasn't looking. He knew I would come. Bastard.

CONTENT WARNING The Assassin’s Portrait is a Dark Romance featuring heavy themes that are not for the faint of heart. This story is strictly for mature audiences (18+). THEMES: • PSEUDO-TABOO: A forbidden, obsessive step-sibling dynamic. • HARD EROTICA: Graphic sexual content, power play, and BDSM. • GRAPHIC VIOLENCE: Blood, gunplay, and dark criminal themes (Bratva). • MORALLY GRAY CHARACTERS: Obsessive, possessive, and dangerous behavior.

Even if you saw the timing earlier it was truly amazing. 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 Kay is very sadistic huh? It's terrible to imagine him killing. In the blurb, Kay is like an Autumn Crocus flower. Purple flowers are very beautiful but dangerous. In that beautiful flower there is a colchicine compound that can cause death. Who said that? writing this chapter is not easy. Because Marry has to research the murder and the tools used by Kay. So hopefully many will like this story. See you in the next chapter. Bye ...

But here, in the quiet solitude of the bathroom, I could finally let out a shaky breath. My head was pounding and the door opened. "Occupied." I screamed "By who?" That wasn't a girl's voice or Marco, it was the strange man. The alcohol has not fully taken over me and my snapped to the door immediately. "Hello Killer" he smiled exposing his dirty teeth at my direction. So I was right, I did know who he was. That's when my head booted and I remembered that voice from Rarf club. He was one of Rarf's guard who had fun with little girls, suffocating them if they dont do as he says.

“Damien not glued to your side today? Odd. He tends to keep his… projects close.” Serena’s brows drew together. “What exactly are you implying?” “Oh, come now.” Camille stepped closer, her perfume cloying, her smile widening. “You don’t honestly think you’re the first, do you? Damien has a pattern. Swoops in, plays the saviour, dresses his women up like trophies, parades them around… and when he’s bored, he doesn’t just walk away. He breaks them. Quietly. Completely.” Serena’s jaw tightened, though her voice stayed steady. “Thanks for the unsolicited TED Talk on Damien Drake, but I’ll pass.”