Rough Patch

Russia, the only place where sex and guns could ever taste so sweet—my exact nightmare. The only thing I’m here for is to grind my body over shady politicians for my father’s schemes. I’d be more than willing to do so if it meant I’d pull my mother and myself out of his chains and start a new life. I was so close, so damn close—until he came . . . very much unannounced. Konstantin Morozov, the man I am going to be married off to. Russia’s ruthless beast— earning his crown with bloodied hands. With this, I only had to face two challenges: infiltrate his notorious business as per father’s order and divorce him when the time is right. But dealing with a husband who has a Morozov as his last name was never easy, especially with a gun pointed at my head, and those rough, cruel hands wrapped around my heart. I wonder which blows up first?

“Do you want to know how this works?” he whispered.“Yes!” I gasped in response to his tug on my hair. “I want to know.”“Yes, what?” he asked, causing my mind to swirl with the realization of what he was into.“Yes, sir. I can be a good girl.” ****For Becca, going to Miami brought up old childhood memories with her best friend, Tally. She needed the break after a rough year attending Yale and a break-up with her boyfriend, Chad. She didn’t expect for her summer of fun to include sleeping with James, the Italian Stallion–Tally’s father.Knowing it’s wrong, she allows James to pull her into a vortex of pleasure that has her breaching the surface of reality and grasping for survival. Can Becca endure this pleasure without Tally finding out?Or will her secrets cause her world to crash around her?Submitting to My Best Friend’s Dad is created by Scarlett Rossi, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

🔞 Mature Content Disclaimer This story contains explicit adult themes, including sexual content, power imbalance, emotional manipulation, possessiveness, and mature language. Intended for readers 18+ only. The alpha kissed me like he hated how much he wanted me. His mouth claimed mine with violence, shattering the one rule we had agreed on. No kissing. No feelings. Just breeding. “Don’t fall in love with me, Lisa,” he warned, his voice rough against my skin. I laughed, breathless and bitter. I knew exactly what I was to him. A contract. A body. A means to an heir. Something he could use and discard while returning to the mate he truly belonged to. This was never meant to be about love. But his touch rewrote my resolve, and the closer I got to giving him what he wanted, the more I realized the real danger wasn’t pregnancy. It was what would be left of me when this ended.

Valentine's Day. I was stuck on ER duty at Brighton City Hospital. Theodore Madoff, who was supposed to be working late, strolled in carrying his student—Cecilia Kuntzer. She had red marks everywhere and that smug little smirk. "Relax, Mrs. Madoff. Just stomach pain. Lucky me, Prof. Madoff rushed me here." Theo pushed me to treat her. Turns out? She was pregnant. From rough intercourse. And the dad? Theo. My husband. The same guy who'd sworn off kids with me for ten years. Felt like a punch to the gut. But I still saved her baby. Next day, she uploaded a video—ID in hand, cheesy PowerPoint, accusing me of malpractice. Claimed I killed her kid. Then Theo asked for a divorce. Priscilla—his mom—stormed the hospital, shrieking about her dead grandbaby. She brought a mob. All these "righteous" strangers who stabbed me to death. Right there in the ER. I died with my eyes wide open. Then—bam—I woke up. Valentine's Day. Again.

<> “Just let me go. I promise I won’t tell... I... I won’t say a word.” “Shhhh.” He whispered, placing his hand on my mouth, hard enough to stop me from talking, soft enough to not hurt. God, no, I don’t want this, I don’t want any of it. “Spread your legs, Kitten.” His voice was rough I didn’t. I just kept sobbing, my tears touching the injury he carved on my chest made it hurt more. “Pl... please...” came out as a mumble instead of actual words. “Now.” He sounded like he was starting to get pissed off. *** Moving into college was supposed to be a new start for me, but with a masked stalker on my trail, surviving is near impossible, I don't belong to him, but he thinks otherwise and he wouldn't mind breaking every will power I have until I accept it. Trigger warning from author: This book is dark, if unapologetic villains in books bother you then this book is not for you.

Guns, katanas, arrows, bows, bullets, and strings were her ideal instrument of choice. While the youth her age was in a classroom studying, she was busy raising a child and training to be an assassin. Albeit having it rough almost all her life, she was a cheerful secretary to one of the most eligible bachelor CEO in town by day and a deadly assassin by night. Things were going smoothly for a while until she fell for the CEO. Xander was a man known for his charm and his wealth. Women loved his physique and wealth. Men were jealous of his gains in life. ................ Gunshots rang in the once peacefully chaotic room: A tremendous change from the blazing and super hype partying atmosphere to a battlefield. Alexander got lost in his mind for a few minutes. Shortly after, the nightmare from the past took the reign over his conscious mind. The momentary lapse in focus almost cost him his life: as a bullet came flying towards him. "Nooo...." came a familiar feminine voice running towards his form and then .....

Life is hard, but for Delaney Waters, it’s especially harder. From the moment she was born, she was excluded due to the fact that she was born under a black moon, one of the worst moons in werewolf lore. Even Delaney’s mother treats her like everyone else; coldly. On her eighteenth birthday, everything changes unexpectedly for her because she finds her mate and he is none other than Alec Castell, the son of the Alpha. This discovery leads them both down a path from which there is no return, and Delaney, as always, gets the rough end of the stick. A terrible event ruins Delaney’s life indefinitely, turning her into someone callous and bitter, and with a thirst to get back at the world that treated her so cruelly and unfairly. Her quest for vengeance leads to discoveries that shatter her foundations and make her question her entire existence, turning everything she thought she knew about herself on its head. Will she succeed in overcoming her badly-written fate or will the past repeat itself once more?

Kali once said, "Deus' Creations change so fast. Yesterday they cared, today they don't." ... As the threat started to enter in the Twins of Purgatory's life, a new chapter of training comes to enhance their Hold(Magic) also started. As the peace that they experienced in times of their training is still constant, little did they know, the dark continent is planning to break it. So, when Kali and Royalties go far from Mundo da Fantasia, dark continent grab the opportunity to ruin the peace of Mundo da Fantasia. Also, the prophecy that was told by Santos Esmeralda begun to bloom... THE PROPHECY... "AS THE SOLIS KISS LUA, ITS FORETELL TO BATTLE AIMS" "OATH OF FALLEN WILL RISE AND BECAME THOUGH" "THE LIFE AND DEATH HOLDER'S LIFE WILL CLAIM" "AND CLIMATE WILL GO ROUGH" "BLOOD CONTAMINATE THE WATER" "DESPAIR WILL BE THE SMELL OF WIND" "HARVESTRY OF LIFE WILL BE IN DESTROYER" "UNKINDLED THE FLAME AND BREAK THE SINNERS BIN" "DARKNESS WILL SUCKS THE LIGHTS" "AFRAID NOT, THE CHILD OF PROPECY WILL UPHEAVE" "ENRICH BY THE KNOWLEDGE OF ENLIGHTEN" "BRING BACK THE FALLEN AND ALL WILL BE UNCLEAVE" ...

A gasp escaped past her lips when she felt his tongue licking her skin where her neck meets her shoulder. Her heart drummed in her ears. Her chin quivering and her body trembling. A jolt of electrifying jolts ran down her body as his lips gave soft feathery kisses on her neck. She was a nervous mush in his arms. "Sweet," He rasped in his deep baritone voice. She stiffened, even more, when his nose caressed her jawline and he inhaled her scent. She was squished against his hard muscular chest and all she could feel and inhale was him. His big veiny hands, his muscular steel-like arms around her waist, and his sinful lips. "Your scent...mhmm... so f*cking addicting," a growl reverberated from his chest. "S...stop," She stuttered. "Shss..." The rough pad of his thumb caressed her lips.

The Clan Healer told me that without the vial of Progenitor's Blood, the Blood Blight afflicting me meant I had only seventy-two hours to live. But my husband, Miles, the new Duke of our world, gave the only vial of the precious cure to my adopted sister, Vivienne, the woman I had turned three years ago. "She's in agony from the rejection, Isolde. It's a pain you can't possibly understand." His tone was self-righteous, devoid of any concern for the patch of skin on my collarbone already turning to stone. I nodded, watching as the life-saving, dark red liquid slid down another woman's throat. I accomplished a great deal in the time I had left. As I signed the documents, the lawyer's hand trembled. "Are you certain you want to transfer everything, Your Grace? The territorial rights of a thousand-year-old clan..." I didn't hesitate. "Yes. To Vivienne." My adopted daughter, Lily, the girl I had risked everything to save, who was now forever frozen at the age of eight, cowered in Vivienne's arms, pointing at me and screaming, "Aunt Vivienne is my real mommy! You're the witch who turned us into monsters!" I offered no defense. "Yes, that's right. Be a good girl and listen to your new mother now." The Progenitor's Ring, the symbol of the clan's supreme authority, now rested on Vivienne's hand. "Oh, sister, you're too kind," she sobbed, her sobs a practiced performance. "I'll be sure to protect the family in your stead." I nodded. "You'll run things better than I ever did." I even signed away my control over the Elder Council, a council sustained by my own blood. For the first time in a century, a shadow of complex emotion crossed Miles's face. He stared at me,"Isolde, stop fighting. It's better this way. You need to rest." Yes. On my deathbed, I had finally become the perfect, submissive Isolde they always wanted. An Isolde who was about to turn to dust. The seventy-two-hour countdown had begun. I wondered, when I finally turned to ash,