Slammed Novels & Stories

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!"

Winner of The People Choice Awards (Fiction) 2019 for Best Diverse Books When "Gossip " meets "Pretty Little Liars" and had a kid with "Sherlock Holmes". That kid is "The Bad Nerd Boy". "You know my secret now. That's really bad, Summers." He smirked. That nerd smirked! And call me crazy but at this moment, he looked goddamn hot.      "I won't tell others." I blurted the words out, hoping it gave the assurance he needed so he would let me go because even though he looked damn hot, he also looked dangerous. Trying to stop myself from trembling, I bit my lips.  His eyes caught the movement and he bent forward, filling my nostrils with the smell of dope he smoked earlier. Tilting his head, he clicked his tongue and smiled. "Wrong move." With that, he slammed his lips against mine, knocking all the air from my lungs. He kissed me with no mercy. His tongue slipped at the seam of my mouth, and my mind went blank when I felt the tip of his tongue caressing mine. Pulling away he watched me with a mischievous look on his face as he said, "now I'm going to be yours." * * * Professionally edited by Fernanda Lemos. All Rights Reserved 2018 © agatharoza

“Brent, please, I didnt cheat on you!” “Shut up!” Here I was begging a man who was a cheat himself— begging him to believe me and take him back. Despite the fact that he had been the one that cheated. But where had the compromising pictures come from? “I can't — I can't b-believe you're choosing your ex over me, Brent! I'm your wife! Your wife!” “Not only have you ruined my reputation, you have ruined my family's name as well. I wish I can erase you and everything we have together from my memories,” he growled at me. “You'll pay for what you've done, Priscilla. I promise you.” “Brent, you have to believe me,” I wept, summoning up the courage to clutch at his arm but he snatched it away from me, making me fall back violently against the table. He produced a set of papers and a pen and slammed them down onto he table. “Divorce papers. I want them signed. Now.” ***************** Sent packing by her husband when she was two months pregnant, Priscilla Sinclair had no one to turn to so she buried herself in her work. Six years later, she met the father of her children who wants her and his kids back. Could there be a chance for him in her life again?

I was adopted. They were so good to me that every night before I fell asleep, I prayed to grow up healthy and happy in this home. Then Mom got pregnant. I hid under my covers and cried all night, quietly packing the little suitcase I had arrived with. But they didn't send me away. They loved me even more. The day my brother was born, Mom took my hand and gently stroked my head. "Having an older sister," she said, "is why we have a younger brother." Dad lifted me above his head and spun me around laughing. "Lily is our family's lucky star — our most beloved baby!" I finally stopped dreading every single day. I thought I had truly become part of this family. Then my brother snapped my favorite Barbie in half. I pushed him. He stumbled, sat on the floor, stared for two seconds, and burst into tears. Mom panicked, shoved me aside, and pulled him into her arms, asking over and over if he was hurt. Dad came running. He grabbed my shoulders and slammed me against the wall, eyes blazing. "Is this what I raised you all these years for — to bully your brother? Believe me when I say I will send you straight back to—"

My younger brother, Owen Rivera, and I are playing in Dad's refrigerated truck. Owen wants to grab my ice cream from me, but I refuse to let him have his way. He shoves me forcefully, causing me to lose my balance and fall to the floor, knocking me out on the spot. When I finally wake up and locate him in the freezer, I find out that he's gotten reduced to a frozen statue. The security footage shows that Owen has been screaming the words "Mommy, help me!" hysterically for three hours before his death. After Mom is done watching the footage, she breaks down on the spot. Then, she yanks me by my hair before slamming me against the wall. "What were you doing? You were at the entrance, dammit! Why didn't you open the door for Owen?" With reddened eyes, Dad throws me into the freezer. "Owen was cold and frightened in the freezer! You should have a taste of the same thing too!" The thick and heavy door is slammed in my face. Darkness and a bone-chilling coldness devour me instantly. I curl into a small ball in the corner Owen has just died in. My teeth are starting to chatter, and my consciousness is starting to slip away. I'm sorry, Mom and Dad. I don't feel cold. I'm not cold at all. I will never eat ice cream ever again in my next lifetime.

The she-wolf handling our trade route is new. And she demands freebies with every single deal. "I'll take this shipment of Moonstone. Throw in an extra two kilos. Or my Alpha will want answers." "Freebies aren't in the contract," I said, frowning. "Are you always this stingy? A little goodwill builds empires, you know." I couldn't be bothered to argue. I gave her a little extra each time, just to shut her up. But she got greedy. Every deal, she asked for more. Until today. She finished her inspection, then turned to leave without paying. I immediately blocked her path. "You haven't paid." She rolled her eyes. "I've counted. We've made fifty deals. Even supermarkets do 'buy ten, get one free.' Can't you spare me this one? Don't be so petty!" I almost laughed. Me? Petty? This is a multi-million dollar deal. I kept my cool. "No means no." She slammed her hand on the table, her eyes wide. "What did you just say? My brother Jett is the Delta of our pack! You give this to me, or I'll have him tear a pathetic delivery grunt like you to shreds and kick you out of this territory!" Oh. She has no idea. I am the heir to the Red Rock Pack. Even their Alpha answers to my father.

He strides closer, his eyes focused intently on her. She found herself backing away until her back came hit the wall. Even then he didn't stop, closing the distance between them until he was standing directly in front of her. His palms slammed against the wall beside her head. He had successfully trapped her, preventing her from leaving. They were inches apart, staring into each other's eyes. Amelia felt her heartbeat speeding up as she stared up at him, having no other choice. She felt her breath hitch. "You are unfa..." "Always, baby." Adrian smirked sexily. "Welcome to your new workplace." ..... Adrian Black is the perfect example of a monster without feelings. A monster that will never let anyone in. He has everything a person dreams of. He is egoistic, merciless and arrogant. He's meticulous and calculative with his every step. The type to pay back what has been given to him. Amelia Hayes was married to Ethan Cavendish. For her this was one of the best things that had happened to her life. But everything was just an illusion. Two people, a man with possessive desires and a woman who have been hurt by love. Two paths that were certainly never meant to collide had crashed into each other in the most unexpected of ways. Is it just the destiny? Danger and seduction has its own part in their journey.

The plane touched down in Tripoli at dusk. Behind me, the sky was on fire. I pulled out my phone and typed a message to my husband, Don Vito Hart. [I'm here. I came to bring you home.] No reply. I called his underboss, Enzo Stark. His voice was hesitant. "You… you really went to Libya?" An explosion rattled the terminal windows. My heart slammed against my ribs. "Which district is he in?" A long pause. Then, quieter: "He never left the country." His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "The business trip… it was a lie." The line went dead. A photo appeared on my screen. Time-stamped today. Vito was smiling. Bright, but something behind his eyes looked tired. His arm was wrapped around a woman. They were blowing out candles on a birthday cake. I recognized her instantly. Rosa Quinn. The woman he'd knelt and sworn on his mother's grave never to see again. Three years ago. I still had the scar on my own palm where I'd made him swear. Vito had forgotten. Today was my birthday too. My phone buzzed again. "Sera, the truth is—the Don never ended things with Rosa. We all knew. But you two seemed so happy… no one dared tell you." I read the message twice. Then I slipped the phone into my pocket. There was no need to pretend anymore.

My sister had struggled with depression since childhood. The doctor warned that she could not tolerate any kind of stimulation. As a result, my entire life fell silent. To avoid upsetting her, I never dared to laugh at home. I never dared to cry. When I got hurt, I did not even have the right to say it hurt. My parents would hug me with apologetic expressions and say, "You're the good one. Your sister's illness requires the whole family to work together. You're healthy. You're strong. Let her have more, okay?" One day, I accidentally knocked over a cup. The crash sounded enormous in the quiet room, and my sister's emotions shattered at once. My father struck me for the first time. He roared, "Can't you be careful? Do you have to push her until she dies before you're satisfied?" He shoved me to the floor. The back of my head slammed against the corner of the table, and blood poured out. But my whole family rushed to my screaming sister. No one even glanced at me. I lay on the cold floor as my vision blurred and my consciousness began to fade. To them, my sister's feelings were the only emergency. My small injury could wait. They did not know that bleeding inside the skull does not wait.

Charlotte had done everything in her power to make Milton love her. For three years, she had showered him with love and was the perfect housewife, even giving up her identity as the lost daughter of the Buchanan family. However, on their third anniversary and her birthday, he slammed a divorce paper on her face. “Your sister has woken up from her coma. You were nothing but a replacement for her. Don’t think that I don’t know of your plans of hurting her three years ago and taking her fiance from her? Hurry and sign the divorce papers before she gets discharged.” Milton said, coldly. Charlotte, shocked and hurt by Milton's accusations, tried to explain herself, but he was not willing to listen. At that moment, she realized that all her efforts had been for nothing. She had been nothing but a murderer and a replacement in Milton's eyes. In a bold decision, She embraced her identity as the only daughter of the Buchanan family. Her days of being a submissive housewife were over. As the truth about her past and the events that led to her foster sister's coma began to unravel, Milton Henderson found himself captivated by this new Charlotte—the one who stood before him with her head held high, declaring, You Shouldn't Have Doubted Me, Mr. Henderson. Hurry up and leave before my brothers return.”