Romantic Murder Mystery Novels & Stories

The tension between us thickened, filling the space until it felt impossible to breathe without tasting it. My back pressed against the wall as his hand slid along my side. Every movement was deliberate, controlled, yet beneath it I could feel the hunger not desire, but need. Outside the room the mansion was quiet too quiet. A sudden knock at the door shattered the moment three sharp knocks. We both froze. His expression changed instantly, the intensity vanished, replaced by calculation. He stepped away from me, his hand instinctively reaching for the firearm he kept in the drawer beside the bed. "Stay here, " he ordered.

Something that smelled like endings. Vincenzo was the first to move. He walked to the crate where the folder had been, picked up a photograph that had fallen, looked at it for a long moment. Then he set it down, turned, walked toward Alex. "His curse," Vincenzo said. "The wolf and the hound. You think there's any truth to it?" Alex looked at him. At the man who had dismantled his life, who had given him a suit and a gun and a place at his table, who had held him in the dark and told him he loved him.

he murmured, eyefucking her entire body. She inhaled deeply and opened her eyes, and his blue orbs met hers. Scarlett wanted to be fucked by him now that he was entirely exposed in front of her and Scarlett was feeling his body with her hands; they were basically just fuck buddies. Scarlet's father was Damien's business partner, and she is a well-known model. She fell in love with his looks at first sight, or desire, and ventured to propose a deal to him at a party held by her father, despite knowing how dangerous he is. Surprisingly, he agreed.

He nods, “It’s been sorted, no police will be involved.” Dimitri returns his nod, his anger flaring up even more as he sees the look on Antonio’s face. Guilt. He knew something. “Spill it, Russo. What did you see?” he demanded. There were enough lies between them. When it came to his wife, it was life or death. “It was my sister. La Strega Rossa is my dead sister.” He says in dismay as if he did not believe it himself. Dimitri stared at him, “Did you not kill her a few years ago?” he asks and shakes his head, watching Antonio as he sank into a chair. “I did. The limo she was in exploded; the bodies burnt beyond recognition. I do not know how she survived.” Antonio answers, incredulous. Then

Copyright ©️2021 by Mylovelyreaders All rights reserved. ⚠️DARK ROMANCE⚠️ If you’re looking for some action thriller romantic drama then I would love to welcome you all to my first ever book on this platform ”Psycho Mafia”. Guys this is my first book. This story is entirely my imagination and the characters are fictious. Any resemblance from the resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locals is entirely coincidental.

Emma asked. "Yes I am, it's great plan" I said. "What? No! You aren't going to kill anyone Alex" Jasmine said. "That man killed my parents." "I know but you can't kill him, that will only make you a murderer" she said. "That man took everything away from me, I was right there and he shot my parents and then made me forget. Then he played me and came to me to save his daughter, I didn't remember anything and I thought he was a good man. I got close to him and sometimes he was like a father figure to me. I was laughing and dinning with the man that murdered my parents but I had no idea, even when I suspected him I refused to believe myself cause I thought he was a good man. He not only messed

She caught herself smiling the more she thought about Xavier sitting on the reading chair and a romance novel placed under the antique lamp. So he loved romance. Yet he was so terrible at it! Is he though? She asked herself again as she picked an old book with an eye-catching title. She could tell the book was at least sixty to seventy years old but well preserved. It only had a title on it but Halle could tell it would be good. She sat down on the reading table and even though she didn’t need the lamp, she turned it on, a relaxed smile on her face as she began to read, lost in the world that the book pulled her into.

“A haunted winter garden.” “Exactly. Peak gothic romance.” His mouth twitched. “You have an interesting definition of romance.” > “Says the man whose idea of flirting is emotional repression.” That earned her a laugh — quiet, genuine, the kind he tried to hide behind a sigh. And for the first time since they’d become bound by heartbeat, the air between them didn’t hum with tension. It just… was. --- But something about the roses wouldn’t leave Mira alone. They pulsed faintly with light — soft blue, the same hue that had marked the curse.

The lantern cast her shadow long and warped against the wall, stretching her thinner than she really was. There was something on the table. She hadn’t left it there. Ben felt the spike of fear the moment her eyes landed on it. A ribbon. It lay coiled neatly beside the lamp, pale blue, clean and new. Completely out of place in the modest, worn-down room. Her breath hitched as she reached for it, fingers hovering just above the fabric. She hadn’t owned anything like this. Her chest tightened. She picked it up, the silk cool and unfamiliar against her skin. It smelled faintly of something sharp and foreign, like leather and smoke.

If you ask me, he should be the sacrifice…" Before I could finish, Ximena had already plunged her hand into James's chest and ripped out his heart. She chewed on the fresh heart, bite after bite. Then, she ordered the eerie puppets to drag his body away and drain the blood to use for the wedding feast. The puppets carried out the command with excitement, like it were a holiday. They hung James's corpse upside down from a withered tree to let the blood drain. "You should do it, my husband."