Soul Eater Lord Death Novels & Stories

Lorenzo McLaren is an underground Mafia Lord who controls New York City. He does whatever he wants and gets away with it Mariana Martinez is a college student whose life is turned upside down when she is kidnapped and sold into a Mafia ring. She refuses to give up and accepts the life before her, fighting and looking for ways to escape. But her defiance is cut short when it grabs the attention of Lorenzo. Mariana falls first but Lorenzo falls harder. Will Mariana be able to ignore her morals and love Lorenzo even with his dark side? And will Lorenzo have to sacrifice his empire for the woman he loves?

Aricka Evangelista, a red-haired girl with a pair of pitch-black eyes, never knew that one day she'll be chased to death by something that kills and possesses the body of those who have seen a certain book, the Death of God. The book contains secrets of the light and the dark and according to the myth, everyone who touched and read it will be taken by an unknown force and their body will be used to also kill others who will next take possession of the book. The more she runs, the more people are affected, and the more they chase her, the more she discovers.

“Why did you do it?” He demanded in a low voice, a warning, while closing in on me. The defiant look on my face crumbled a little as I hastily began to backtrack, it wasn’t long before I felt the edge of the bed behind my knees. “Fucking answer me, Kiara!” He roared, cold breath fanning the tip of my nose as he spoke. I gulped in fear, as what I had done just began to fully sink in. “I- I don’t…” A firm push against my forehead tipped me over and I fell on my back like a doll, panting wide eyed at a very furious Xavier. I scrambled backwards, or attempted to– but Xavier’s large hands clamped on my ankles, sharply jerking me downwards until my legs dangled at his sides. “Not only did you leave the house on your own– you crashed my car, set it on fire and then you went to a freaking, dangerous club…” He moved his hands off my ankles and circled my hips, grips tightening instantly, threateningly. “…and let worthless men touch what’s mine. Who told you that was acceptable?” I scoffed and rolled my eyes even though my heart was racing. “Who said I was yours? Since when did you make me yours?” “Since right now.” ————— Forced to marry Xavier Romano in order to spare her brother’s life, Kiara Francesco– sassy, rebellious and drop dead gorgeous, was determined to be no fragile and obedient wife; which surprised, spurred Xavier on and made his sinful hunger for her intensify with each passing second. Life as a very powerful mafia lord’s wife was no child’s play, seeing as it comes with a whole lot of danger. And Kiara was ready for the dangerous ride.

When your billionaire alpha 🐺 only married you for duty, you rejected him and left for good by faking your death When you meet again, his eyes on 🔥. He wants to devour you. But he's interrupted. “Mommy who’s that?” "A stranger." “Say that again? Who am I to her?!”

“Don’t tease me again, or else you really want it. There are no safe words in my bed.” He is rumored to know a thousand ways to disarm and pleasure a woman, and I am Olivia, the nymphomaniac. In a quest for revenge against my childhood bullies, I got locked into an unhappy marriage, with an untamed brother-in-law. Colt Fletcher, the morally-grey, rebel biker is ever excited by danger and prefers life on the edge. And from the moment he laid eyes on me, I became his forbidden want. I should know better, to steer clear of deadly desires like these but when fate forces us to live under the same roof, share the same boardroom, and every accidental touch burns, my resolve begins to collapse. But scandals don’t stay buried, and my husband is the devil. The price of this betrayal is death. I must choose between my husband who owns my name, and his brother who owns my body.

Lauren takes off her sunglasses at her own funeral... "Guess he really did wish me dead." cuz her Alpha ex husband isn't there Lauren was heartbroken and left the pack, but actually Alpha is searching for her like crazy. When she came back with her daughter, he would never give her another chance to leave him.

My husband was on a business trip when his plane crashed, leaving a final message. He said he didn’t want to hold me back and wanted me to terminate the pregnancy and start over. I couldn’t stop crying. That’s when I heard my son’s voice from inside me. “Mom, stop crying. Dad isn’t dead at all. “He’s just scum. Behind your back, he’s running off with his true love. They’ve eloped abroad for their honeymoon. “I know where his little stash is. While he’s not back yet, let’s grab the money and disappear. We’re set for life!”

In the third year after my death, the one who remained faithfully by my wife's side was still the bionic robot I had painstakingly designed. It looked exactly like me and carried within it every detail of my mannerisms, speech, and habits. The only difference was that it never lost its temper with her. Because of that, my wife never sensed anything amiss. Yet each night, she brought home a different man, deliberately testing "me," desperate to see the wild jealousy and rage I once wore so vividly. Then, one day, her childhood sweetheart and first love, shoved "me" off the balcony. It was only then, in her horror, that my wife realized… "I" didn't bleed.

The boy, George Larson, whom I once saved as a child, when he was struggling with asthma, repaid my kindness by imprisoning me for seven long years. "Luna, you're my everything. I won’t let you out of my sight," he said, his voice filled with obsession. He tied my hands and feet, keeping me bound to the bed like a helpless doll, but I did not love him; I wanted to escape. In his madness, he set fire to my family’s ancestral home. The last traces of the Sachs burned to ashes, disappearing into the wind. He said that since my home was gone, I could just live with him and that it would be my new home. However, because I refused to let him touch me, he found someone else—a girl with a beauty mark under her eye, just like mine. The girl, drunk on his affection, thought I was trying to imitate her by faking the same tear-shaped mark. In a fit of jealousy, she gouged out my eyes. My face was covered with tiny, bleeding holes, blood streaming down my body. When George came home, the girl gleefully stuffed me into a trash bag, proud of her handiwork. “George, look! I caught some trash that broke into the house!” George did not even glance at me. He just loosened his tie, his voice calm and detached. “Just toss it where trash belongs.”

One day, shortly after I had experienced a miscarriage, Alan brought me a bowl of chicken soup—and a divorce agreement. "Sophia's pregnant," he had said. "So let's just leave each other like mature adults do." Chicken soup had never tasted so bitter in my life. I knew Sophia Mason—he had sponsored her education before. She was also the one who caused my miscarriage. I did not cry. I did not throw a fit. I just asked why. He looked relieved. Then, he looked at me blankly. "The truth is I can't stand you over these seven years. Every time we lie together on our bed, I just can't help but be disgusted by what your body has gone through. "I know you suffered that because of me. But I can't do it. I can't stop remembering how defiled it is. "Our kid is gone. We owe each other nothing now—so let's end it here, right now." So that was it, huh? Hilarious. He had no idea who the "defiled" one was—him. Seven years ago, I inserted a memory chip into his brain to save him. And now, in three days' time, the chip will cease to function. He will remember everything… and he will wish he were long dead.