Soft Voice

"Dario, someone might see us," She tried to pull away, with a hint of nervousness in her voice as she whispered. But Dario wasn't deterred. He reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, with his fingers lingering on her cheek, and his thumb tracing the outline of her lips. Ivy's heart began to race as she tried to back away. "You're looking sexy this morning," he said, his voice low and husky. "And that dress...you're driving me wild." Ivy's heartbeat quickened at his words, her body responding to his touch. She couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. She could feel the breath on her skin as he leaned in closer, with his lips inches from hers, she knew she was lost. "I want you, Ivy," he whispered. Ivy closed her eyes, unable to resist the pull of his gaze. He pressed his soft lips to hers, and she felt a wave of desire wash over her. As their kiss deepened, she knew that there was no turning back. One night in a club changed everything for a billionaire CEO and his secretary. A passionate and romantic night together led to an unexpected twist when they both discovered she's his new secretary and he's her boss. Can they navigate the lines of power and passion, or will their forbidden love be doomed from the start?

WARNING: Please, before reading this book, note that it contains: violence, abusive scenes, and mature scenes. "I was supposed to kill you, Cassius," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Do you think you can?" he replied, his gaze piercing. He gently took my hand, the warmth of his touch contrasting sharply with the coldness of the IV drip that fed into my arm. "I would shoot a bullet into your head if..." I started, but before I could finish, he sealed my lips with a kiss—soft yet filled with an urgency that took my breath away. **** Zara Singh, an undercover assassin, receives a contract to seduce and eliminate Cassius DiMarco, the most feared Mafia king who is known for his ruthlessness. But what would happen when she finds herself unexpectedly drawn to Cassius? And what would happen when Zara finds out Cassius had a hand in her parent's death? Would she be able to forgive him? #2

Dark Romance; A spoiled girl’s game leads her into the arms of an attractive, no-nonsense man. Logline: After playing a reckless game, a spoiled and gullible girl did not expect to find herself in a serious relationship with an intriguing and no-nonsense guy who starts to discipline her. Excerpt: She listened as he stepped forward with his belt, moving closer to her and crowding her with the musky scent he was wearing. She fought to hold back her fear as finally, he came to stand behind her. She felt his fingers gently combing her hair down over her shoulders. Then he started speaking slowly, his deep voice starting to shake her demeanor as he talked to her."You didn't marry a soft knight in shining armor that will cuddle, ignore and pet you every time you choose to deliberately get out of line. I will punish you thoroughly for your disobedience..." WARNING! This is Dark Romance. Do not read if you find the theme offensive.

In the coastal quiet of Baler, a studio is born—not of architecture, but of intention.* Founded by Yam, a poet whose words cradle pain gently, and Franc, an artist who paints tenderness into walls, the studio becomes a refuge for those learning to stay—with grief, love, longing, and themselves. As visitors arrive, they leave behind more than footprints: a sigh recorded in bamboo, a poem tucked into the “Found Letters” shelf, a mural painted in crooked lines. Through zines, tea, silence, and sketchbooks, the studio teaches softness as revolution. Ren creates the *Window of Soft Returns*, an installation of anonymous voice recordings—each whisper forming a community of echoes. Drew builds the *Staircase With No Wrong Turns*, inviting people to walk through emotions without shame. Franc offers brushstrokes as brave work, and Yam curates writing circles that map healing in half sentences. Together, they host festivals that feel like hugs, and they begin traveling their archive, letting softness cross oceans. Even those who once left—like Miguel—return, discovering that some doors never truly close. Others, like Tala, capture the studio’s sound and turn it into a podcast of breath and becoming. Over seventy chapters, the studio transforms into something larger than itself: a mural of memory, a sanctuary for second chances, a place where return is sacred and voice is proof of survival. In the final bloom, the studio stands not as a monument—but as a reminder: > *“Staying isn’t easy. > But chosen together, > it becomes home.”*

He owns her body. She owns his secret. Only one can break first. From children to lovers. From lovers to people separated by hierarchies and bound by oaths. Daya and Night rule as Alpha and Shadow of the most feared pack in all of Eyriena. But beneath the throne lies a dangerous obsession neither of them can fully escape. "Let me go, Night," I met his gaze, forcing my voice to remain calm despite the urgency rising within me. His hand cradled my cheek with deceptive gentleness, but his grip around my waist was like iron — unmovable. The raw power of a hybrid radiated from him. “No.” His voice was low and commanding. “I’ll say when you can leave. And right now, I need you here.” His lips trailed heat down my neck, my pulse betraying me. His hands slid expertly down, finding the buttons of my shirt. His fingers worked skillfully, undoing them one after another, revealing my bra — barely holding in my full, straining breasts. “Mine," he murmured possessively, eyes locked on the soft mounds rising beneath... As ancient secrets unravel and a deadly curse tightens its hold, Daya must choose either to betray the only man she's ever loved — or lose herself completely to his dark side. In this world, love demands blood.

“ what are you? How do you affect me so? “ He asked, his voice coarse. . . His voice leaving sinful sensations against her neck, his breath sending tons of emotions all over her body. It was unbearable. She moved closer to him, letting her body touch his in shameless abandon. “ I don't know what you mean? How do I affect you? “ she said her voice barely a whisper. Her eyes looked up at him innocently, not grasping the effect she has on him. Their lips are barely an inch away from each other now, hot within and outside. Penetrating deep into their bodies. “ I have never met anyone like you, how can I find my mate in you? “ He growled. His hands reached up to cup her soft face. Held it in place so he could see through her eyes. Nobody has ever affected him the way she does. And it was definitely not his wolf animalistic behaviour. This is just him, what would happen if his wolf awoke and he is not able to control himself. After unintentionally killing his brother, Dante, now an outcast from his pack, leaves London and adopts a new identity as a brooding rogue mercenary to find some solitude but his new neighbor, However Ava Damaris, (a human) has different plans for him. Repulsed by his devil may cry persona, Ava was determined to turn him into a kind hearted gentleman. As they both begin to uncover some hidden secrets of a deadly scheme, a fierce passion blooms between them, which neither anticipated -- and neither can resist.  But will Ava still love him after finding out that it was his kind who had killed her beloved parents? Or will this knowledge alter her deep feelings for him?

Peter's eyes pleaded. "I'm sorry for what I did, but—" Dominic cut him off. "If I had not married your daughter, you would have fallen here in pieces by now." Peter's voice barely audible. "I'm sorry..." Just then, the office door swung open. Valerie's soft voice interrupted the tense scene. "Dinner is ready." Every head turned towards the door. Valerie's eyes widened as she took in the room's atmosphere. "Dad?" Dominic's expression remained stern, but a flicker of warning flashed in his eyes. He nodded subtly at Kael. Kael strode towards Valerie, his movements fluid. "Vel, let's go." Valerie's voice trembled as she asked Kael, "What's going on? Why is Dad kneeling there?" Kael's expression softened, but his eyes remained guarded. He offered a gentle smile. "You don't need to worry about him, Valerie." Valerie's concern deepened. "But what's happening?" Kael's tone turned cold. "Anyway, that man doesn't deserve anyone's concern." Valerie's eyes widened. "That man is my father." Kael's jaw clenched. "That man was neither a good father nor an honest man. He's getting what he deserves." Suddenly, the sound of a bullet firing cracked through the air. Valerie's eyes went wide, and she took a step forward, but Kael grasped her hand, holding her back. "Don't go there, Valerie," Kael warned, his voice low and urgent. "The boss is very pissed off right now. It's not safe." Tears welled up in Valerie's eyes, spilling down her cheeks. "He was my father," she whispered. Valerie, wife of mafia king Dominic, faces danger when Viktor, seeking revenge, targets her and their unborn child. Despite Arthur's protection, Valerie is kidnapped and brutally attacked by Viktor, resulting in the loss of her child. The tragedy unleashes Dominic's darker side, transforming him into a heartless and cruel leader, driven by vengeance.

When the earthquake struck, Pierse Jones instinctively shielded me with his body, taking the full brunt of the impact and suffering multiple fractures. In the hospital room, the girl in the next bed looked at me with envy and said, “Your husband didn’t even care about his own life to save you. He really loves you.” I forced a smile. “Yeah.” But just last night, after I had fallen asleep, he slipped into the bathroom, his voice soft and soothing as he spoke to someone else—his little mistress, “I’m fine, don’t cry. Be good.” “As long as I think of you, I’m not afraid of anything.” Pierse and I grew up together, from childhood sweethearts to each other’s first love. We had been together for ten years, admired by everyone as the perfect couple. No one knew he had a mistress on the side, a girl who looked just like me when I was eighteen.

His lips brushed my palm and every time his hot breath hit my skin, it set my nerves on fire. “What the—” I whispered, breathless. And then, with deliberate slowness, Sevastian slipped my ring finger into his mouth. My eyes widened in disbelief, my heart hammering against my chest. His teeth scraped my skin before sinking into the flesh, just enough to make me twitch from the sharp pain. I gasped, both from the sting and the bite I got from him. My entire body tensed as he bit down harder, marking me not with ink or metal, but with flesh and teeth. When he finally released my hand, my skin throbbed, the faint mark of his bite was visible against my finger. I cradled my hand, staring in disbelief at the mark he left behind. “This,” Sevastian murmured, his voice low and sharp. “Is my mark and ring.” His tone carried an edge, dangerous yet confident, as if the words were meant to bind me. “The symbol that you are no longer Celestina Valeztina-Savelli.” His lips ghosted over my skin, and my chest tightened as he whispered the next words. “...but Celestina Valeztina-Ortega.” His next words were a soft snarl, dripping with ruthless certainty. “My property, my wife.” He added, while locking his gaze on me. There was no hesitation in his eyes, no flicker of remorse, only that same ruthless determination that chilled me to my core. I tried to pull my hand back, but he didn’t let go. "You’re insane," I whispered, my voice barely audible, trembling despite my best efforts not to show it. “Yes, I’m insane,” he replied with a hint of mischief in his voice, “And I can drive you crazy…” He paused, letting the tension hang in the air.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, I discovered I was two months pregnant. I wanted to surprise Owen Reed with the news. However, on my way home with the gift-wrapped ultrasound report, I got caught in a street shootout. A stray bullet tore into my abdomen. Right as I collapsed on the pavement, writhing in pain, Owen appeared out of nowhere. He had told me he was away on business and would not be home until evening, but here he was, frantically shoving through the crowd. He ran right past me and toward a woman up ahead. "I'm sorry I'm late. Don't worry, nothing's going to happen to you." His voice was soft, gentler than I had ever heard it. He swept her up in his arms and disappeared down the street, surrounded by bodyguards. He never saw me. I was barely three feet away, bleeding out on the ground. When I woke up in the hospital, my baby was gone. That was when I knew I was done with this marriage.