Sound Fruit

Find Him “Somebody has taken Eli.” … Olivia’s knees buckled. If not for Dean catching her, she would have hit the floor. Nothing was more torturous than the silence left behind by a missing child. Then the phone rang. Two weeks earlier… “Who is your mom?” Dean asked, wondering if he knew the woman. “Her name is Olivia Reed,” replied Eli. Dynamite just exploded in Dean’s head. The woman he once trusted, the woman who betrayed him, the woman he loved and the one he’d never been able to forget.  … Her betrayal had utterly broken him. *** Olivia - POV  She’d never believed until this moment that she could shoot and kill somebody, but she would have no hesitation if it meant saving her son’s life.  *** … he stood in her doorway, shafts of moonlight filling the room. His gaze found her sitting up in bed. “Olivia, what do you need?” he said softly. “Make love to me, just like you used to.” He’d been her only lover. She wanted to completely surrender to him and alleviate the pain and emptiness that threatened to drag her under. She needed… She wanted… Dean. She pulled her nightie over her head and tossed it across the room. In three long strides, he was next to her bed. Slipping between the sheets, leaving his boxers behind, he immediately drew her into his arms. She gasped at the fiery heat and exquisite joy of her naked skin against his. She nipped at his lips with her teeth. He groaned. Her hands explored and caressed the familiar contours of his muscled back. His sweet kisses kept coming. She murmured a low sound filled with desire, and he deepened the kiss, tasting her sweetness and passion as his tongue explored her mouth… ***

“Where have you been, Cosette Blanche Warren?” he whispered darkly. My throat went dry. I could feel his hands roaming down my thighs, his touch possessive. “Someone saw my wife with Franklyn Carrington today,” Yohan continued, his voice deceptively sweet. “Tell me, Mrs. Warren… is that true?” A chill ran through me. His tone wasn’t affectionate—it was laced with something far more dangerous. “Open your eyes.” I jolted at his sudden command and immediately obeyed. My body trembled under the weight of his stare. His fingers curled under my chin, tilting my face closer. Slowly, agonizingly, he licked the corner of my lips before whispering against them. “What did I tell you before, wife?” Tears welled up as I struggled to form words. “I-I’m not allowed to meet…other men,” I stammered. “Hmmm.” His fingers traced lazy circles on my waist before pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Then explain what happened earlier.” “Franklyn is just a friend, Yohan. I-I wasn’t doing anything wro—” “Liar!” he roared. I flinched as tears spilled down my cheeks. A scream tore from my throat when Yohan suddenly lifted me, throwing me onto the bed. My eyes widened in terror as he hovered over me, his expression twisted with something unrecognizable. “No one else can come near you, touch you, or even look at you because you belong to me alone, Cosette Blanche Warren!” His voice was a venomous snarl. “You will never escape me! You will never be happy! Because I won’t allow it!” Then, he laughed. A dark, menacing sound that sent a shiver down my spine. Tears streamed down my face as I squeezed my eyes shut. This was my life now.

"Yes, us. I don't want to marry you," Luna stated, her gaze fixed on Lucas's face, devoid of expression. "So, you're going to marry the pianist then?" Lucas guessed, causing Luna to become more certain that the man in front of her was already aware of everything. "Of course. I love him, so I will marry him," Luna replied, observing Lucas's reaction carefully. "But this time, I need this marriage," Luna continued, dismissing Lucas's scoffing smile. "And?" Lucas asked. "We'll make a prenuptial agreement," Luna declared. "Do you think I'll agree?" Lucas responded dismissively. "You have to agree. Whether you like it or not, we're going to make a prenuptial agreement," Luna insisted, prompting a threatening smile from Lucas. "Luna Estrada, you're too confident. Do you think I'd agree to this marriage? I even declined it," Lucas replied, belittling her. "We're not going to make a prenuptial agreement because we're never going to get married," Lucas added, causing Luna to clench her fists as if she had been rejected by the man before her. How could Luna Estrada face rejection? She couldn't allow it to happen. "Hahahahah." Luna forced a laugh, attempting to make it sound mocking to Lucas, although at this moment, she wished she could throw her heel at Lucas's head. "Then why did your grandfather force my grandfather to persuade me to accept this marriage, huh?" Luna said with traces of laughter in her voice, emphasizing each word. "Are you serious?" Lucas asked, his face showing mockery. "Didn't you ask your grandfather who would marry you? Weren't you suspicious? Who knows, maybe your grandfather was referring to my own grandfather, trying to match us," Luna's inner thoughts raced, attempting to calm herself.

I groan, leaning my body over his, resting my forehead against his shoulder. “Ride me, Angel.” He commands, panting, guiding my hips. “Put it in me, please…” I beg, biting his shoulder, trying to control the pleasurable sensation that's taking over my body more intensely than any orgasm I have felt alone. He's just rubbing his dick on me, and the sensation is better than any I've been able to provide on my own. “Shut up.” He says hoarsely, digging his finger even harder into my hips, guiding the way I ride on his lap quickly, sliding my wet entrance and causing my clit to rub against his hard-on. “Hah, Julian…” His name escapes with a loud moan, and he lifts my hips with extreme ease and pulls me down again, making a hollow sound that makes me bite my lips. I could feel how the tip of his dick dangerously met my entrance… Angelee decides to free herself and do whatever she wants, including losing her virginity after catching her boyfriend of four years sleeping with her best friend in his apartment. But who could be the best choice, if not her father's best friend, a successful man and a convicted bachelor? Julian is used to having flings and one-night stands. More than that, he has never been committed to anyone, or had his heart won over. And that would make him the best candidate… if he were willing to accept Angelee's request. However, she's determined to convince him, even if it means seducing him and messing with his head completely. … “Angelee?” He looks at me confused, maybe my expression is confused. But I just open my lips, saying slowly, “Julian, I want you to fuck me.” Rating: 18+

“I should’ve known you weren’t as reckless as me,” he says quietly. “You’re Elliot’s little girl after all.” “I’m not a little girl,” I snap. “I’m twenty-five.” “And I’m almost twice your age, Natalie,” he says, almost like he’s giving up. “But that didn’t stop you from coming to me.” In a second, he has me pinned against the wall. His hands trails up the sides of my body. “Do you want me to stop?” he whispers, his breath hot against my neck. “I waited for you that night,” I whisper, my hand sliding up his chest. “I imagined us doing all the things you implied you’d do.” He groans softly, a low, guttural sound that vibrates through his chest. “Did you touch yourself?” he asks in a whisper, his eyes closed. My other hand moves lower, trailing down his body until I brush against the hard evidence of his desire. I feel his breath hitch, and I smirk, knowing what I’m doing to him. “Yeah, but it was your hands I was feeling.” On the brink of her second wedding anniversary, Natalie Jones uncovers a devastating betrayal—her husband, Michael Cooper, embraced passionately with his mistress. Confronting him in a dimly lit restaurant, Nat exposes his scheme to marry her for her father’s fortune and storms out, her heart shattered but her resolve unbroken. Ric Steward, on the other hand — billionaire and philanthropist — never expected his evening to ignite with scandal. When he sees Natalie—radiant, powerful, and on the edge of a breakdown—he’s immediately captivated. Their fiery, forbidden attraction is challenged when Ric learns she’s the daughter of a longtime friend. But that doesn’t stop Nat. It only makes her want Ric more…

I stood at the edge of Ironwood territory, boots sinking into mud as cold seeped through my coat. I hated being this close to their land. It smelled like wet dog, testosterone, and trouble. “You’re late, witch.” The voice hit low and deep, vibrating through the ground before it reached my ears. I didn’t flinch. I refused to give him that. I turned slowly, amethyst eyes narrowing as I found him at the tree line. Guilermo Santander. He stepped into the gray light, rain sliding off his broad frame. Six-foot-five of pure menace. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, silver streaks catching the gloom, and those amber eyes—burning straight through me. “I’m not late,” I said calmly, though my pulse spiked. “You wolves just don’t understand patience.” He stopped three feet away. My skin prickled as the runes along my ribs flared hot, reacting to the dense magic rolling off him. Suffocating. Intoxicating. “And you witches don’t understand territory,” Guilermo said. He didn’t sound feral. He sounded tired—like a man carrying a century of weight on deceptively young shoulders. He leaned in and sniffed near my neck. I stiffened. “You smell like sage and burnt sugar,” he murmured, voice dropping, darker now. “It’s giving me a headache.” “Then stop breathing,” I snapped. One corner of his mouth lifted, a flash of sharp canine. “Make me.” The air between us snapped tight. My magic stirred, violet haze curling from my fingertips without permission, brushing the leather of his jacket. He didn’t pull away. He leaned closer. And standing there in the freezing rain with a man who could tear my throat out, I realized two things: Elder Sibal was wrong—Guilermo wasn’t a monster to be chained. And I was in serious trouble.

“You know what you have to do,” Blake said, his eyes bearing hatred into Cassandra, “You don’t like me.” “No,” Cassandra answered, she had been rehearsing how to sound nice while she rejected his proposal but it was impossible. “What?” He asked surprised “I said no, I am sorry, I can’t do that.” She muttered. “You don’t have any idea what you are signing up for, do you?” He asked, both his hands balled into fists on the table, while she watched him silently. “How much did my grandfather pay you?” He asked again and then she looked away from his magnetic gaze, feeling embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I told Mr. McKnight that I would marry you. I don’t think anything would change my mind.” She feigned confidence, holding onto her own hands to stop them from trembling. “We can just try to get along.” “Get along? What was I expecting from a gold-digger?” he asked with deep seething frustration. “You all are the same.” I wanted to ask what he meant by that but I couldn’t. “This wouldn’t be easy I assure you, princess, there would be a price to pay, a fucking expensive one.” He gets up and puts on his cap. “See you later, dear wife.” Unable to say a word she watched him storm away, her heart hammering painfully at his threat. Cassandra’s life took a total turn when her uncle forced her to get married to his partner’s grandson. Even though she was reluctant at first but then she didn’t have a choice but to agree, if there was a way she could escape her cousin, Lance. She would gladly marry even the devil because what has she got to lose?

The sound of the liquor bottle breaking echoed against the walls of that room, making her flinched. She gazed into those intoxicated piercing green eyes hovering over her. "Leave from my room right now, Damien," her sapphire orbs filled with tears of terror, whereas her grip tightened on the towel covering her wet bare body but the person before her didn't follow her words. A shiver ran down her spine when he placed his both palms on the glass door behind her, caging her completely. "We will talk tomorrow when you will be sober up but please leave now," she attempted to push him away but her body froze when he pinned both of her wrists above her head, resulting in the towel slipping from her body. Her naked body trembled, both in fear and cold but the blazing rage in those bloodshed green eyes flamed up her being. She tried to wiggle out from his hold until…. "Do you still love him, Zia?" His question stabbed inside her heart like a dagger. Her tears of fear turned into anger. After she submitted every single inch of her to him last night, he was still asking her that question. "What if I said, yes…I still love Dylan then?" She challenged him but immediately hissed in pain when he dug his fingers in her tender skin. "Then I will kill him right in front of you," his cavernous voice husked against her lips but his words glossed her eyes more. How can he be so cruel that he didn't hesitate before thinking about killing his own brother? Her heart clenched when he pressed his lips against her and whispered those words in her mouth. "Because I will be the only person to ruin you in my love, Zia Damien Karlson,"

“Someone will hear,” I whispered, the words breaking into a tremor. His family and the entire Castillo group were gathered just down the hall. Smack. My gasp tangled in my throat. “No, they won’t.” His palm landed again, sharp and claiming. Smack. “Do you want to know why?” All I could manage was a desperate, breathless sound. “Because you’ll stay quiet.” His voice dropped, low and dangerous. “Won’t you, Abigail?” He rubbed the spot where he’d struck, the heat of his touch spreading like fire under my skin. Pins and needles rushed through me, making my breath hitch. I bit down hard on my lip, fighting the sound clawing its way up my throat. “Good girl.” His praise slid over me like sin, a command and a reward all at once. ***** Abigail swore off love the night she caught her boyfriend tangled up with the neighbor’s daughter. Relationships were nothing but heartbreak—until he came along. One touch from her new employer’s grandson, Christian Castillo, awakens a hunger she thought she’d buried forever. She knows it’s forbidden. She knows it can’t last. But desire has a way of burning through reason, and with Christian, surrender feels inevitable. Then her world shatters. Her employer is murdered, and the blame lands squarely on her shoulders. With prison looming and her only lifeline being a man who refuses to forgive her, Abigail is trapped between ruin and a marriage she never chose. But she won’t go down quietly. Someone is pulling the strings, and she’s determined to expose the truth—even if it costs her freedom, her heart, and the man she can’t stop craving. A story of love, betrayal, and the courage to fight for forgiveness—and for the truth.

My husband—one of the top elites of Raventon Street, cold and ruthless to his core—keeps a stray orphan girl he rescued from the slums hidden in an apartment. Rowena Fletcher is clean and fragile, like a newborn creature untouched by the world. And somehow, that innocence softens something in Micah Benson—a man who's spent years clawing his way through the brutal wilderness of capital. He thinks this secret game of his goes unnoticed, but I find out anyway. At the Benson family's charity gala, I smash his favorite antique vase in front of everyone. He doesn't even flinch as he simply signals the bodyguards to clean up the mess and then hands me a divorce agreement. "Sign it, Sabrina. The penthouse in Ashbourne City is yours." I burn the divorce agreement—and that's when he finally shows his true colors. He freezes all my accounts and launches a hostile takeover of my gallery. On the night the storm hits, I get a call from the hospital. My sister, Roberta Slater, has been in a car crash—she needs emergency surgery. In the security footage, he stood there, watching coldly. "Sign the papers, or start planning a funeral." I dropped to my knees and slammed my forehead against the floor, blood trailing down my face as I begged, "Micah, please… don't…" A long, flat beep echoed from the other end of the line, slicing through the sound of rain. Then a voice on the line says, "We did everything we could." However, I have gone back in time—to the day I first found out about Rowena. This time, I no longer cry. Instead, I plan my divorce on my own terms. I call Valebrook Bank that same night and begin preparing for a quiet disappearance. But the moment I truly vanish from his world, Micah loses his mind.