Shaking Uncontrollably And Cold Novels & Stories

Two pink lines on a pregnancy test. I was going to surprise my husband, Vince, the Moretti family heir. Instead, the surprise was on me. A pair of black lace panties—not mine—left in his car. The air reeked of cheap perfume and betrayal. I stormed his casino, demanding answers. But I found her in his private suite. Sophia. She smirked, looking me up and down. “You must be the wife. I’ve seen your picture on the nightstand. Vince says you’re a boring little nun. Says he can’t even get hard looking at you.” I snapped. My hand shaking, I hurled a glass of red wine in her face. She shrieked, stumbled back, and crashed into a glass cabinet. Blood bloomed across the carpet. Vince burst in and slapped me so hard I hit the floor. "Are you insane?! She's carrying my heir!" My heart shattered. As I fell, a darker pool of blood spread beneath me. Our baby. I was miscarrying. And when forced to choose between his wife and his whore, Vince chose her. He forgot who put him on his throne. I’m not some trophy wife he can discard. I am a DeLuca. A princess of the underworld. So for revenge, I married his worst enemy, Dante Costello. And when we burned his empire to the ground, Vince finally broke. He got on his knees and begged me to come back.

I stood in the shadows, the scent of pine and frost heavy in the air, watching my mate, Ethan, smile—truly smile—for the first time in years. But not at me. At her. My cousin, Isla. His first love. She sat beside him, warm and glowing, with our pups, Lucas and Mia, curled up against her like she was their real mother. They were laughing, sharing bites of ice-cream cake, the kind Lucas once said made his stomach hurt. I was never meant to be here. I wasn't his choice. He didn't fall in love with me—he was assigned to me. To him, our bond was never about love. It was a political arrangement—an alliance between two packs: his power, my father’s ambition. A tie forged not by hearts, but by bloodlines and borders. He never touched me unless required. He never looked at me like I was his Luna. In that moment, as their laughter echoed under the full moon, I felt the mate bond falter—thin, fading, like breath in winter. And I knew. I had played my part long enough. So I turned away. It was time to severe the bond that was never truly mine. But when he sensed I was really leaving, when the tether between us began to snap, he broke. Dropped to his knees, clutching the pups like lifelines, his voice raw. "Please," he whispered, "don't leave me." Even the pups cried, reaching for me with shaking hands. "Mom, we’re sorry… We didn't mean it. Please don't go."

The first time Rafael betrayed me, he threw the woman from his club at my feet. His eyes were bloodshot as he told me to take my pick. My love for him was a sickness, so I forgave the transgression. For the second betrayal, I had the dancer sent out of New York, warning her never to set foot on the East Coast again. On the night of our engagement party, sealing the union of our two families, Rafael pinned me against the walnut desk in the study. His eyes burned with rage as he demanded: "Where is Nina? She's carrying a Mancini heir." "It was a mistake. You can take your anger out on me. Nina is naive; she doesn't deserve this. I'm begging you, just let the child be born safely. I swear I'll never see her again." "You're afraid of childbirth. This gives you an heir without the risk." "Listen, Alessia. You are the future Donna of the Mancini family. When that child is born, it will know only you as its mother. I swear on my life." He forced me backward until shards from the vase I'd knocked over cut into my skin, staining my silk dress with blood. I looked at him and smiled, then gave him the address of a safe house in Brooklyn. He slammed the heavy oak door behind him. Shaking, I pulled out my encrypted phone. "You were right about him. Is your offer still on the table?"

"Once I fuck you, you are mine, so if you do not want this, all you have to do chocolate is leave right now." "I want you", with an uneven and shaking voice I responded, "I want this". The pleasure his hands gave was magical, just imagine what it would feel like if he claimed me right here and now"... With that he added an extra finger to my very tight pussy, working his way in and out, they ecstasy I felt, very ravishing, I could feel my self cuming close to the end, it felt good so damn good...... Everything Blue explores the story of two entirely opposite people, from age difference, to life's experience and expectation. Melio Blanchard is cut between the romance she seeks and the danger that draws her near. Their meeting at Anthony's and Cynthia's Child christening sparked something in Both of them, for Shaun, it was pure desire, living in a city where perfection and surgeons could be used interchangeably, he wanted to know what it felt like to be with an original, to bend her over, touch her bosom that held pure pleasure, suck on them till she would cum clean and straight. Then spread her and eat like someone whose been starved for days. For melio, it was a spark, she wanted experience, experience that would make Christian stay with her if ever she reached out. They both knew that their kind of relationship was forbidden, Melio wanted it to be pure lessons and Shaun wanted it to just be casual, moreover she is younger than and he knows how such story ends.

When we're in a meeting during an overtime shift, Jazmine Garcia's secretary, Alvin Bauer, whisks a powerbank from her bag, as if it's the most natural thing to do in this world. Jazmine merely glances at him. She opts not to comment anything and just continue the meeting instead. The next morning, I hand over a divorce agreement that I've just printed. Jazmine chucks it into the trash can impatiently. "All this just because Alvin used my powerbank?" I nod for a moment before shaking my head. "It's because he never told you that he wanted to use your powerbank, and yet he took it from your bag in a natural manner. On top of that, you didn't stop him from using your powerbank, too." Jazmine shoots me a nasty glance at my words. Then, she drops her signature onto the divorce agreement before throwing it at my face. "You really have too much free time on your hands! All you do is pay attention to such menial matters and picking fights with me over them! "I've already signed the divorce agreement! I'll have you know that since you have the guts to bring up divorce, you should be ready to suffer from the consequences! I will never go back to you!" Jazmine and I are childhood friends, and our relationship has spanned for more than 20 years. She refuses to believe that I'll give up on our relationship over such a petty matter in such a short time. But the straw that ends up crushing the camel is never the final straw.

“You still don't get it, do you?” she said, shaking her head. “Think about it, Brianna. You've just been fired with little or no hopes of getting a new job because you're a what? Remind me again. Oh, a single mother. How long do you think the money Mr Yang gave to you would last for? How long do you think I'm going to continue giving you, huh? Think about it. The same Jason you're trying to protect right now would still blame you for bringing him into this world when you exhaust that money with you and there's nothing else to spend or no one to run to.” “So, what are you trying to insinuate?” I asked, raising a brow. “That I become a surrogate mother just because I'm in need of money? I'm only in need, Hayley. I'm not desperate to have it. Besides, let me remind you that I went through a Cesarean Section just to have Jason. I'm not going through that again.” *********************** Having lost her job, Brianna is left to drown in an ocean of confusion on what path to take next. But then, she's presented with an offer to be a surrogate mother for a hefty sum of money, and another from a strange man asking her to return home and take charge of her father's company. Would she choose to be a surrogate mother or return home to take over the company of a man whom she never got to meet her whole life?

She believed she left him behind forever. Five years ago, she walked away from the one man who had ever lit her soul on fire - Lucian Blackthorne, the ruthless millionaire Alpha who claimed her as his fated mate after a single night of forbidden bliss. She rushed to safeguard the secret blossoming inside her, resolved never to let him find the truth. But fate didn’t care about her intentions. When he strolled back into her life at an elite supernatural charity dinner, his seductive silver eyes focused on hers, arousing every suppressed longing she had battled to conceal. He was much stronger now and even more deadly. His control ripped her hard-earned barriers, leaving her shaking with desire and horror. Because if Lucian found her secret, he would never let her or their son go. As he lured her back into his heady world of money, power, and primitive supernatural passion, secrets long buried began to claw their way to the surface. She understood her secret wasn’t the only one that might kill them both. He desired her loyalty. She desired his touch. But when treachery ruined the fragile hope rekindling between them, she was forced to face the final question: may she submit to his love, knowing it may cost her freedom… and her child’s future? Because the stain of midnight longing could never be erased - no matter how deeply she attempted to bury it.

I died five years ago. Now my husband, the Don of our Mafia family, wants me to take the fall for his sister again—this time for accidentally killing a British noble's heir during an arms deal. He's holding a fake confession letter with my forged signature, storming into my old apartment in the rust district, only to find it empty. Frustrated, he grabs the corner store owner downstairs, demanding to know where I am. The owner pauses, wiping his hands on his apron, calmly tells him: "Serafine? She died five years ago." "Heard it was retaliation from a rival family during the gang war. They ambushed her in an alley... shot her over a dozen times. She died immediately." My husband, Lucien, refuses to believe it. Convinced the owner is on my payroll, hiding me to help me escape his reach. He scoffs, his eyes filled with scorn: "Oh, so what? Because I called her out for messing up that last job, now she's throwing a tantrum?" "You tell her, if she doesn't come back and take the fall in three days, I'll revoke her grandmother's 'special family protection'! Let the old woman rot!" With that, he storms out, his rage still simmering. The owner watches him leave and sighs, shaking his head. "There's no grandmother left to protect... That woman passed away not long after Serafine did... couldn't survive the winter without our family's medical supplies and protection..."

On the day of my prenatal checkup, I found out my husband Don had booked me a termination surgery instead of a postpartum care package. I thought he had placed the wrong order and was about to tease him, but Vincenzo spoke flatly. "I didn't book it wrong. I need to come clean with you about something." "I've been keeping another woman. She's a good girl. She doesn't want a title or to take your place as Donna." "But she got pregnant recently. I've already made her suffer enough. I can't let her child suffer too. I have to give the child the Moretti family name." I froze on the exam table, my voice shaking uncontrollably. "Then why did you abort my child?" He wiped the ultrasound gel off my belly and smiled. "I just want you to adopt Giuliana's child. I'm having yours terminated because I'm afraid you'll play favorites and treat her kid differently." He handed me the consent form, calm and composed. "I promise you will always be Donna. No one will ever take your place." I gave him a long, hard look, then was wheeled into the operating room. "Never mind." "Vincenzo Moretti, you're going to regret this every single day for the rest of your life." He didn't know it, but I was the only woman in the world who could ever give him a child.

The day I went into labor with the twins, I bribed the family doctor to shoot me up with every heavy-duty suppressant he could get his hands on. Anything to stall the birth. Why? Because in my last life, Vincent—my husband, the Don—claimed to have a low sperm count. To guarantee an heir, he lined up ten mistresses and told the whole house: whoever popped out a son first, her kid would be the next Corleone Don. He promised if I delivered first, he'd ditch the others. Said our baby would inherit the throne. I bought every word. When I found out I was carrying twins, I couldn't stop shaking—I thought I'd won. But after I gave birth, he tossed me and the babies into the freezing wine cellar and locked the place down. "Lucy came from nothing. I just wanted to give her kid a name. You started rumors, pushed her into despair, and now she's dead—her and the baby. You're vile. Not fit to be the Don's wife. Think about what you've done. I'll open the door in three days." Then he had the butler seal it shut. What he didn't know? That night, the cellar caught fire. Me and my babies? Burned alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back—right before labor. This time, I'm not staying. Soon as I deliver and get back on my feet, I'm taking my kids and disappearing for good.