Sound Hashira

He pinned me against the wall. "You are nothing but trash from my past", he said. "Just a used toy from the past" a loud sound resonated in his office. Coming to my senses I understood that the devil was slapped. By me. I looked at him with tears in my eyes, afraid of his reaction. But his face was completely blank; he was touching the cheek I had slapped. I opened my mouth to apologize but nothing came out. Instead a pair of soft lips were roughly placed on mine like it was punishing me. Being the ex-wife of a billionaire is not fun. Especially when he promises you the world and in the end leaves you with nothing but just a suitcase of clothes. Claire White is the former Claire Knight, billionaire Adam Knight's ex-wife. Their marriage as well as the divorce was the most gossiped about and favorite topic of everyone in New York. During their marriage the headlines were: New York's most eligible bachelor marries the poor waitress within a week. Is she pregnant? Or just a gold digger who couldn't wait to get her hands on Knight's large fortune? And after divorce: Adam Knight finally confirms divorce with Claire White and states, she was just a gold digger. Now after 5 years Adam Knight is in California, both of them meet, sparks fly. But Claire is not alone now. She has a 5 year old daughter with her who looks nothing like Adam. Now Adam is one hundred percent sure she is a cheater who played with his feelings and his money too. So now he is hell bent on making her pay in every possible way. But secrets are revealed in the most unexpected ways. Is she really a gold digger? Or a victim of circumstance?

BOOK #1 MARINOS' MAYHEM SERIES "I said 'act like my boyfriend' for just five minutes, not 'act like my fucking husband' for the rest of your life!" Adrian Price half-yelled, his fingers curled into a tight fist as he glared at the terrifying, yet super gorgeous man in front of him. Giovanni Marino blinked slowly, taking his time to register every detail of Adrian's figure into his memory, not minding that he was disturbing his work at all. "I don't see a big difference between the two." "Oh, for fuck sake! You're a thug, but surely you're not dumb, are you? Do you not know when to stop?" Adrian scoffed, his anger growing thicker. "Sadly, I don't seem to know what 'stop' means. You made the idea of being someone's boyfriend sound so great now I don't think I wanna stop." Adrian Price knew asking a mobster to fake being his boyfriend would get a lot of unnecessary attention from lustful eyes off him, but what he never knew was that the man he had just picked was no different from the unwanted pests that lingered around him, wanting to have a taste of him. Giovanni Marino enjoyed clubbing as much as he enjoyed killing; however, despite this, he was extremely lonely. Now, the big bad man had found a toy he could play with, and he was having the best fun of his life. Would he ever stop and return to his lonely life? That, he wasn't sure he could do that. Not even when he realized Adrian was his enemy's son. He needed Adrian, either to break him or to make him.

He joined them like the others to destroy me. When he was good, he made me believe we could weather the storm. When he turned bad he made me believe he was the storm. “Good luck to your present Luna and if you haven’t good luck when you find her. I never loved you more than a friend, and today I’ll repeat I don’t love you, never did and never will not in a million years. What happened between us was in the past which was never meant to blossom. Let me go, I don't belong here, not in this pack and never will….” Before the words could successfully leave my lips a deafening sound rocked the cell and a large open dent came on the wall. Tagon. He took long hoarse breaths, his tight fist stuck in the wall. His eyes darkened with angry growls. What kind of a man has he turned to? It felt so hard not to think of the past. It was so hard not to think about how things were. The good days. He was the sweetest man I’ve ever met. I was foolish back then to think those affections were real. I was stupid to think my tainted blood could be made pure by garnering his favor and his affections. There were only two events he ever got mad: the first time we met where he met me crying and the second was when I told him… nevermind. He clicked his tongue sharply, “As long as you live you would forever be under my dominance. I own you. Your life, your blood and even your soul to do whatsoever my soul pleases. You are my slave and that’s your lot!”

“How long has this been going on?” Fatima’s voice is steady, almost too steady. Her husband of six years stands there without a hint of shame. “Does it matter, Fatima? Yes, Leslie is pregnant with my child, but nothing is going to change,” he says, annoyed that she dares question him. Her calmness makes him shift, though he refuses to show it. “How. Long?” She repeats slowly, keeping her voice low so she won’t wake their sleeping children. “Three years.” Fatima blinks. “You’ve been cheating on me for half our marriage… with your business partner?” “Lower your voice. Don’t make it sound bad. I’m a man – these things happen.” He even chuckles. “Leslie will be taken care of. You’ll stay the wife, and Leslie and I–” “Will get married,” she cuts in. He stares, thrown off, until she adds, “Top drawer in your office. Divorce papers. Sign them first thing tomorrow.” No tears. No raised voice. No trembling. Just calm finality, and that unsettles him more than anger ever could. “I’m not letting that happen. You’re my wife.” “Ex-wife,” she corrects softly. Before he can react, Fatima pushes her chair back and stands. She doesn’t storm off or slam anything. She simply picks up a magazine from the table and walks out with quiet, controlled steps, far too composed for a woman ending a six-year marriage. And that hits him harder than any shouting would have. No tears. No pleading. No hesitation. Nothing. It wounds his pride. He deserves tears. “Hold on,” he snaps, rising quickly from his seat.

She woke up to any empty bed , "panicking" she called 911 . She tried to sound freaked out but before she could say much about the matter at hand, her husband walked in . She was gravely disappointed but quickly masked it with relief . Reluctantly ,she cut the call and hugged her husband ,only for him to tense up. " who was on the phone?" He asked pulling back from the hug . She kept quiet knowing what would come next if she had said 911 . When she didn't reply ,he took her silence for an answer. He knew she was messed up but calling 911 all the time had been extreme. Annoyed he went farther away from her facing anywhere but at her . " you got to stop doing that" He clenched his jaw,really upset . " stop doing what?" ' stop wishing me dead ' he thought "Calling freaking 911 everytime I'm not around you " Silence followed. She thought he meant that as in I can't breathe without Lucas beside me kinda vibe but no... He knew. "I'm not asking you to go climb Mount Everest or jump off a cliff .I'm just asking you to grow up,Jen .You're a 22 year old act like it " He made his annoyance evident .He made no attempt to hide how pissed he was . His voice was harsh , cold and very very distant. It was always like that ,one had to get used to it She wanted to cry so bad that she had been caught but she knew he had known for a very long time now . 'Crying now would only prove him right' she thought. Finding her presence irksome, he left the room. Maybe getting married to Lucas was just crazy . Lucas was handsome ,rich ,independent. He was everything any girl wanted . everything that her father wanted for her .

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.

Mia Fernando, A 26 Year old Spanish Woman with Exquisite Beauty, Anywhere she Went, All eyes would turn, She was endowed with Exquisite Black Colored Eyes, Auburn Lush hair, Small and Pointed Nose, Cute Pouty Lips CARL GONZALEZ, a 30 Year Old Ruthless Business Man, He Owned an IT Company which was Responsible for Most Of The Modern Technology we have today Immediately He walks into The Company, Everywhere Goes Quiet and Chilly, Employees Shook and The Mention of Him Name, Peed their Pants at the Sound of His Voice "Why Spend Time Falling in Love when I can make Billions Of Dollars During that time?" These Were His Favorite Words He Hated The Sight of Women but only had a soft heart for..... HIMSELF, His Mom Died Immediately He was Born, His Father joined His Mom When he turned 8 and Ever since then, He had been fending for himself At Age 9, He would go about Each street giving Rich People Shines on their Shoes, He Built what he has today Carl Always thought Women were nothing but Weak, Gold digging Fellas until He Met Her Her Innocence Drew her to him, The way she would scrunch up her face when she was Disgusted, The Way her eyes brow would raise when she was Confused, The way her eyes twinkled when She smiles, He Knew He wasn't In Love with her but He Felt The Monsters within him fall at her foot He Claimed her as His the moment he heard her Voice and When He Saw her for the First Time, He Claimed her as His Bride One Day He Decided To Do Something Ruthless To Get Her, He did something Which got her Wanting to Run Away from Him, What did he do You Might ask He........

I knock on the door, heart pounding like it always does when I’m about to see him. “Come in,” Justin’s voice calls—cool, smooth, and frustratingly calm. I take a deep breath and walk in, holding the folder tightly. “Here’s the report you requested, sir.” He doesn’t even glance at me. Just keeps typing, his expression unreadable. “You’re late,” he says without missing a beat. I clench my jaw. “There was a delay at the printer—” “No excuses, Joanna. Just do better next time.” Ouch. Professional and cold. As always. I nod, ignoring the sting in my chest. “Yes, sir.” I turn to leave, gripping the doorknob—just one more second and I’ll be out of this weird tension-filled office— “Wait.” I freeze. I turn around slowly. “Yes?” Justin stands now, walking toward me. In his hand, a familiar brown paper bag. He holds it out. “You didn’t have lunch.” I blink. “I’m fine.” “You skipped breakfast too. Eat.” I hesitate. “What is it?” “Chicken pesto. No onions.” My breath catches. He still remembers? “Why are you doing this?” I ask quietly. He shrugs, not meeting my eyes. “I just… remember things.” My fingers brush his as I take the bag. Warmth. Stupid warmth that shouldn’t still feel this familiar. Then, he looks at me—really looks at me. “You shouldn’t skip meals… wife.” Silence. My chest tightens. “Don’t call me that.” But my voice is too soft to sound convincing. I walk out before I say something I’ll regret. His words echo in my mind like a dangerous lullaby. Cold one second. Kilig the next. God… he’s still him. And that’s exactly the problem.

“Maybe I'll come back later. I'm sorry,” I said, tension strangling my voice. “No, please. Stay!” He said in a calm tone. I looked at him hysterically, and, like he had just recognised his own nudity, he smiled confidently. “I'll just put on something if you're uncomfortable.” “Uncomfortable?” I scoffed, trying to sound assuring. “No, I'm not uncomfortable. I've seen a lot of naked boys.” He shot a glance at me, sending a thrill running down my chest. “Boys?” He asked, closing the distance between us. He grabbed my left hand and placed it on his hard breast, his heart beating steady, a stark contrast to mine, which raced like an antelope running from a predator in a jungle. “Well… I've seen a lot of naked boys, but not a naked man…” I whispered softly, gazing and feeling lost in his starry eyes. ******************* Reina Grayson, the wolf-less Alpha's daughter, harbours a dangerous secret: she possesses a silver wolf. If her Pack discovers, she’ll be killed. When Alpha Van Killian, whom she was forced to marry, rejects her for her step-sister, Reina is poisoned and dies. Gifted a second chance by the Moon Goddess, she is reborn as Narah Smith. On her eighteenth birthday, she uncovers her true identity, but she had lost her wolf. She returns to her hometown, now living among her enemies as a common maid. As she navigates her past, she forms a bond with Alpha Van, who believes she’s his second chance mate despite being married to her step-sister. But with a vengeful heart and a determination to uncover the mysteries of her death, Narah must choose: embrace her fated mate or accept Alpha Zander’s proposal? Can she seek revenge on those who wronged her, or will she remain forever in the shadows?

****Excerpt**** “You see yourself as ordinary,” he said softly. “But entire worlds have crumbled and come apart for far less than a woman of your beauty.” He pushed his horn further again, filling her another inch. Her flame flared white-hot behind her ribs. Begging, pleading, clawing. “That’s it, my little whore. You like that, don’t you?” he preened against the corner of her mouth. His voice hit her harder than the horn. Dirty, cruel, worshipful. The word whore sent heat spiralling down her spine, making her clench around the invasion. She hated the word. She loved how he said it. “Please…” She started. He squeezed her throat, cutting off the rest of her words. Her breath hitched violently at the pressure, but she surrendered to the feeling. “Unless you are about to beg me to fuck your ass harder with this horn, I don’t want to hear how you can’t take any more.” He growled, low and threatening. A wave of want crashed into her so hard she whimpered. Adelaide should have been scared. In a way, she was. It wasn’t fear that made her heart pound, it was the terrifying realisation that she wanted exactly what he demanded. She wanted to feel the thickness of his horn deep inside her, wanted the stretch, the pain, the pleasure. She wanted all of what she knew he could give her. She leaned her head back to run her tongue over the seam of his lips. “Fuck me harder.” She said softly, the words barely a whisper. They carried the desperation, surrender, hunger, devotion, need. Her voice trembled with the weight of what she was giving him. Of what she was asking him to do to her. He growled. The sound vibrated through her, deep and possessive.