Soft Jazz

Diego strolled into his apartment, his heels clinking softly against the marble floor. He tossed his blonde wig on the couch, and his soft fingers propelled forward to count the dollar bills in his hands. “You're out crossdressing again?” His uncle, Roberto, a tall imposing figure with gray streaks on his hair walked into the room. “I might just have the perfect job for you,” Roberto chuckled softly and tossed a gun at Diego. “What?!” Diego's breath hitched in his throat as he swallowed the weight of the mission his uncle proposed. Cross dressing was one thing that Diego did with ease. There was no way he could do what his uncle requested; assassinating the infamous mafia lord of the Rocco empire. He stood in front of a mirror, holding the gun that Roberto had handed to him. There was no way that this soft and delicate hand could pull a trigger. Diego didn't expect that the mafia lord he was set up against was going to be a man who'll make his heart flutter. He tried to resist, bracing himself to complete his mission. But things only got heated when he found himself “entangled in the rival's hold.”

Betrayed by her mate and framed for treason, Athena, a, wolfless Omega, and daughter of traitors—has no choice but to run for her life. Hunted by pack warriors, she flees into the dark woods, her heart broken and her future uncertain. But fate always has a cruel twist in store. One minutes, she's in the woods running for her life, the very next minute, she's in the room of the most feared Alpha, who.is none other than the father of her cruel mate. The domineering Alpha king backs her up against the wall, her bones quivering from the hunger-filled glint in his gaze as he hand glides over her most sensitive skin in a soft caress. "I'll never let you escape from me again, mate." He said with predatory intent. He was her salvation and she was his redemption! And now, she'll make her evil ex kneel before her and call her stepmom and Luna Queen!!!

Before our wedding, my fiancée, Sarah Hargrave—a professor of medieval history—held a private ceremony in a secluded chapel in the countryside. But not with me. Under the glow of candlelight, she cradled Benjamin Wheeler—her first love, his face gaunt from the cancer consuming him—in her arms. Her smile was soft, almost reverent, as she murmured, "In the eyes of God, vows made before the altar are the only ones that matter. Even if the law says I belong to Daniel, my soul was never his." And so, to the faint echo of hymns and the scent of old incense, they drank from the same silver cup, exchanged rings, and stepped together into the dimly lit sacristy—their makeshift bridal chamber. I watched. Silent. Motionless. No outbursts, no demands for explanation. Just the quiet dialing of a clinic to undo the vasectomy I'd gotten for our future. From fifteen to thirty, I had loved Sarah for fifteen long years. But in all that time, there'd never been room for me. That space had always belonged to Benjamin, my stepbrother. So I let her go. Afterward, I joined a geological research team bound for the isolation of Antarctica—a land cut off from the world, quiet and clean. Before I left, I handed Sarah a divorce agreement…and a final gift to mark the end. I never anticipated that Sarah, who'd always met my devotion with frosty detachment, who'd never once glanced back as I walked away, would look ten years older overnight.