Slammed Synonyms

She is the forbidden blood that ignites his hunger. He is the ruthless king who has sworn to destroy her kind. But fate has other plans. She is his enemy, the one thing he has sworn to destroy. But one bite, one taste, and she becomes his obsession. She fights him. He hunts her. And in a world teetering on the edge of war, their desire might be the deadliest weapon of all. ************* Celest’s back slammed against the cold wall, her breath coming in sharp gasps as Magnus caged her in, his body heat searing into hers. “You keep running, little bunny,” his voice was thick with dark amusement, but beneath it lurked something raw, something canal. “Yet, here you are. Right where I want you.”

This was the sixth time Dante Falcone had slammed that damned divorce agreement down in front of me, forcing me to sign. This time, I did not resist. He set down the pen. In that instant, a suffocating silence filled the room. His deep brown eyes locked onto me, sharp and probing, as if he were trying to see straight through my soul. "Why so obedient this time, Sofia? Or are you planning another trick? Don't forget who you are. Mrs. Falcone." I removed the ruby ring that symbolized the mistress of the family, the one he had placed on my finger when he proposed to me in Sicily. I set it gently on the desk, a surface stained with both blood and money. My voice was calm, lifeless. "No, Dante. I'm just... tired. Your world is too loud."

"Daddy? When are you coming home? Mommy's on the bed, and she won't wake up." Luca's voice shook, breaking up with tiny, hiccuping sobs. "If she's not getting up, wake her. She's just being lazy, " Bill barked. "Look, I'm busy. Go ask your mom if you need something, and stop calling me for every little thing!" Then he hung up, just like that. He was too busy flirting with his secretary to care. Me? Luca? We weren't even on his radar. What he didn't know was that I was already dead. But later, when reality slammed into him like a truck, he clung to my photo, sobbing and begging me not to leave. Too late.

For six years, I took bullets for him and erased every sharp edge of myself. Because of the way he protected me, outsiders all believed I was the woman closest to his heart. However, when I asked for just one sincere “I love you”, he laughed and refused. “Mafia marriages aren’t about feelings. Know your place.” Then he said, “If Sophia doesn’t like it, don’t even bother.” When the bomb countdown hit thirty seconds, my don husband shoved me aside without hesitation and ran out holding Sophia in his arms. Only then did I understand that after six years of entanglement, I wasn't even worth a single hair of his sister. I slammed the divorce papers into his face. “I’m going to personally send you and your precious sister straight to hell!”

My husband pretended to lose his memory in a car accident just to fulfill his young girlfriend's wish to become vice president—and to strip me of my position. As I passed by, I accidentally overheard her whisper to him, "Since you agreed to let me borrow the title for seven days, can I borrow you for seven days too?" He smiled and leaned down to kiss her lips. "Of course. Use me however you like." I stopped in my tracks but did not expose his lie. The next day, at the conference table, he slammed his hand down and declared that his girlfriend was his real wife. He ordered me to get out of the company and hand over all my projects. Every employee turned to look at me, waiting for me to put a stop to his outrageous performance.

I was in the office bathroom stall when I heard them trash-talking me. The intern I'd trained for three months whined, "She's a heartless witch—like a robot with zero brain cells." I was about to swing the door open when another voice jumped in, laughing. "Documents incomplete." "Receipts don't match." "No signature? Denied." "Seriously, we've all memorized the freaking rulebot's script!" Once they were gone, I headed back to my desk. The intern stormed in and slammed a fat stack of reimbursement forms in front of me. "Don't go on another power trip and block everyone's claims." I skimmed the obviously fake receipts. Normally, I'd tear into her. But this time, I just smiled. "My head's killing me. Can't read the fine print."

After our class reunion, my best friend naturally expected me to play chauffeur and drive everyone home. I agreed. However, halfway down the road, a limited-edition luxury car slammed into the back of my car. The owner, who claimed to be a wealthy businessman from overseas, waved off the idea of filing an insurance claim. He said the crash was fate, and with a grand gesture, handed the luxury car over to me on the spot. From that day on, I drove the million-dollar luxury car every day, until jealousy consumed my best friend. She secretly sabotaged my car, and it ended with my death in a fiery wreck. My boyfriend turned on me, insisting I had simply fallen asleep at the wheel. My parents, unable to bear the shock, both died of heart attacks. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the reunion.

My mom, a wealthy philanthropist who donated millions, only allowed me to spend a single dollar on each meal. Even the cheapest dish at school costs two bucks. To survive, I had no choice but to eat my classmate’s leftovers every day. When Mom found out, she didn’t show any sympathy. In fact, she came to school and, in front of all the students, slammed a plate onto my head. “Pathetic little thing! I’m not stopping you from eating, so why are you begging? “The school meals are expensive? Then why don’t you work hard and save up?” Out of anger, I took Mom to court. If I won, she would go to prison for abusing me. If I lost, I would be executed completely. I was confident… Who would’ve thought Mom would win?

He slammed her back against the closed door making her grit her teeth as she glared at him. “Camellia,” his voice was dripping with controlled fury yet that endearment rolled off his tongue in a raspy growl. “I don’t like other men touching you,” he grumbled, grabbing her jaw, his fingers firmly pressing into her cheeks as he made her hazel eyes look into his dark greys. “I’m not yours,” she said with gathered-up bravado though his intimidating presence made her feel so timid. He leaned closer as her eyes fell on the camellia flower that was inked on his neck. His hot breath tickled her lips as his intense stare lingered on her lips. “You’re mine, Camellia. Mine!” With a low growl, he crashed his lips on hers. DARK ROMANCE!

One of the men cracked his knuckles loud enough to make my stomach flip. Another grabbed my wrist and slammed my hand flat on the table. A blade glinted as it rose. ​“Please! Please—” Hot tears blurred my vision. My heartbeat roared in my ears. ​“Make it quick.” Moe snapped his fingers. "Seven hundred thousand," Kieran said, sliding the folder across the table. "Pretend to be my wife for six months." ​Kieran Wolfe is a billionaire with a cold heart who must marry to secure his inheritance. But he has one rule: she can never, under any circumstances, touch him. ​Sienna thinks the debt collectors were the dangerous ones. But as she signs the contract, she realises that being the wife of a man who refuses all human contact might be a far more dangerous game.