Spike Spiegel Cigarette

Three days before the wedding, the church called to inform me that my fiancé had changed the date. When I went to ask him why, I walked in on him throwing a bachelor party with his friends. "Samuel, this was the day Claire personally chose. Why would you suddenly change it?" someone asked. Samuel Gordon stubbed out his cigarette, looking utterly nonchalant. "Because that day happens to be Janet's birthday," he said. "I need to celebrate it with her." The room fell silent in shock. "Aren't you afraid Claire will find out and kill you? Have you forgotten what she did before?" At the mention of my name, Samuel gave an icy snort. "That was all in the past. Claire loves me to death now. She even took three bullets for me once, so how could she ever bring herself to hurt me?" I stood at the doorway, watching the snow fall behind me, and let out a long sigh. Five days later, he stood in an empty church, frantically calling my phone. "Did you forget? It's our wedding day!" "I didn't forget," I said. In another church, wearing a wedding gown, I was saying "I do" to another man.

Sam and I have been married for ten years. He always said he would give me the wedding of my dreams. However, three days before the ceremony, my eyes, which had been blind for the past six months after saving Sam’s life, miraculously regained vision. The first thing I saw when I opened them was Sam tangled in bed with his pretty secretary, Alisa. The bed was still shaking while Alisa typed on her phone. She showed it to him, smirking. [Sam, we're out of condoms. Why not ask your blind wife to grab one for us?] Sam’s veins bulged at his temple. His eyes darted toward me in panic. Alisa, however, scoffed and typed again. [What are you so scared of? Your wife’s blind. What’s she gonna see?] Sam sighed in resignation. “Hazel, can you pass me the box of cigarettes from the nightstand?” That cigarette box he mentioned was clearly labeled: Durex Ultra-Thin—Bare Feel. My heart shattered, and I booked a flight to Rockbridge before the wedding. When Sam came running after me, hysterical, I said coldly to him, “Sam. I can see.”

“Roll your fingers into your cunt, fuck your pussy fast, and spill every inch of your juice on my face, cause I want to taste you. Right here and now!” * My best friend’s dad and I hate each other. Or so we thought. It used to be a tug of war for us. He thinks I am a lousy girl who has nothing to worry about, and I think he is a cold man who hides pain and mischief behind that hard-angled face of his. But all of that changed when I bumped into him stroking his cock and moaning my name to the picture I posted on IG to spike my still very obsessed ex. I had many plans for the years, but none included fucking my best friend’s dad during the Christmas celebration she had informed me of. But I did, and every day after that became dangerous, pulling us deeper and deeper into places only cock and cunt could reach. I am just a broken girl. One who saw herself as someone unworthy of love, until I found it in the wrongest of places. I shouldn’t want it. I shouldn’t desire him, but it started as lust and whirled into something dangerous. Now he makes me cum every night and makes me laugh every day, but at what expense do I have to keep us? I have a dream, and it's about two people who shouldn't want each other. 80 forbidden percent and….20 percent Damnation. Hello!!!! And… welcome to Ruins!

At nine months pregnant, I suffered an unexpected miscarriage. My husband, Graham Pearson, fought back his own grief as he comforted me. He would whisper to me every day, trying to soothe my shattered heart, "Whitney, we will have children again someday. Our little angel was here for a while, and next time, we'll make sure we hold onto them..." Under Graham's careful care, I slowly began to pull myself out of the numb fog I'd been trapped in. But then, a month later, I overheard him talking to one of his friends. "If Whitney finds out the baby didn't actually die and that you've let Cassidy raise him, don't you think she'll flip out? You've worked so hard to get where you are; you can't let this mess it all up." Graham casually flicked his cigarette, his voice almost detached as he waved a hand dismissively. "Cassidy can't have kids, but she loves children. If this baby brings her joy, it's a blessing for the child, too. "I might never get the chance to be with Cassidy, but letting her raise my son, in some way, feels like a kind of fulfillment..." The truth hit me like a frozen wave, paralyzing me in place. It turned out this whole ordeal had been part of Graham's plan from the start.

Everyone said my good looks were what saved me from my family's downfall. It was how I managed to become a Donna. I was the only one who knew why he had to compromise to marry me. Xavier Whitmore, the tall and handsome Don, was unable to have physical relationships with a woman. When I shyly took off the gown on our wedding night, he sat in his chair and lit a cigarette before remarking in an icy voice, "I'm allergic to women. That said, you have my word that you will be the only woman in my life." He kept his promise. Though he never so much as touched me in the five years of our marriage, he provided me with a life of luxury and wealth. Although it was merely a title, being his only woman brought me happiness. Everything changed on the day my men and I were ambushed by a rival mafia family. We barely made it out alive. When I returned home, I found him locked in a tight embrace with his widowed sister-in-law, Alice Ortega. "Alice, I won't let you remarry. If you do, I'll make sure that man dies a thousand deaths." I scoffed. It wasn't so much that he couldn't handle being physical with a woman. It was simply that he could not be physical with anyone but her. In that case, she could have the pleasure of being the Donna.

I spend ten years helping my fiancé fight and claw his way to the top. Finally, he becomes the head of the local mafia. But once he has everything, he falls for another woman. Suddenly, he wants nothing to do with the promise he made to marry me. Just as he boasts about throwing her the wedding of the century, one of his men can't hold back his confusion. "Olivia stood by you through everything. Weren't you crazy about her? And now you're marrying someone else?" Joshua Harding snuffs out his cigarette, slowly turning the silver couple's ring he shares with Abigail Mauser between his fingers. "Olivia?" He scoffs. "She's got blood on her hands. How could she ever compare to my sweet, innocent Abigail?" The subordinate hesitates. "But Olivia's sharp. If she finds out and turns against you, then what?" Joshua frowns before smirking coldly. "Belcove is completely under my control. It's not like I'll lose it without her around." Little does he know I'm standing outside and listening to every word. I drop the medicine I brought him into the trash and pull out my phone. I text his biggest rival, Michael Sheridan. "Want Joshua's turf and his life? I'm handing them to you!"

“I’m not your toy. Find someone else you can play with because that won't be me. I won't be the one to satisfy your sick desires.” “What makes you think you have a choice?” He murmured, his voice low and dangerous, sending shivers down her spine. “Because you don't go around telling people you own them and you certainly do not own me.” “Every inch of ground you step upon, I own." He closed the distance between them in one step. "And unfortunately, for you darling. Everything I want. I get.” ⋆༺ ︎︎ ༻⋆ Zeus Trojan rules Castello City's in shadows, a ruthless mafia thriving in havoc and sin where every corner bows to his command. But Saoirse, the innocent cigarette girl haunted by her parents' murder and her brother's deadly illness, is about to shatter that rule. Blackmailed to save her little brother, she vows vengeance against the man who stole her freedom—yet destroying a king demands more than revenge: it means slipping deeper into his gilded cage, unraveling his secrets, and surrendering to his darkness that will bind them in an unbreakable, intoxicating obsession. And in a game where power devours the weak, can Saoirse destroy the man who owns her the world or will their forbidden desire consume them both?

Tara isn't your everyday beauty shit she wasn't a size 0 runway model, she was curvey thick and flawless nonetheless. It took her years to see that in herself after going through the ups and downs of being tossed through the foster system she had all but lost her faith in herself. This is why she chooses to become an advocate for foster kids like her. When she first launched her UFCP program she had only one private supporter. Now here she was at a huge charity banquet representing her program publicly and the program would now be recognized nationally. It was like a dream come true especially when she runs into the investor who happens to be an old friend from the foster system who was in the same house as her. Giovanni Berlusconi, he had glowed up since she last saw him all those years ago and he apparently felt the same about her. The only problem was he was a mafia king pin and Tara might have known much about the mob, but she sure as hell knew she wanted no parts of it. Especially after two of her colleagues end up dead in a mysterious car crash after questioning Gio's family connections to the recent spike in missing persons cases in the city. Tara had tried to blow him off politely but Gio wasn't having it. Stopping by her office unannounced. Tara was desperate to avoid the mob boss at all cost that is until she accidentally stumbles on to a private family meeting and witnesses him killing someone. Now she has only two choices marry the very man she fears or die.

“That’s your stepbrother, Ivan,” her mother said as they stopped by the pool. His legs were in the water, a cigarette between his lips, smoke curling into the sky. And right then, Gianna knew she hated him. She hated men who smoked. Or drank. Or reminded her of the father whose scars still lived beneath her skin. After six months away, Gianna Vale returns home to find everything changed, her mum has remarried the alpha of the Wolfe pack— a new house, a new name, and a new problem: Ivan Wolfe. Cold. Arrogant. Impossible to ignore. She wants to hate him. She tries to. But one look is all it takes — one heartbeat, one spark — and the bond between them ignites. Ancient. Unbreakable. Forbidden. They’re mates. A truth neither of them asked for… and one they can’t escape. Because in the Wolfe Pack, love like theirs isn’t fate — it’s a curse. If two fated mates from their bloodline unite, one is to die or become rogue. And when one reckless moment crosses that line, the mark changes everything. And that curse runs deeper than Gianna ever imagined — tangled in her family’s past, in long forgotten memories , and in secrets that were never meant to surface. Now desire becomes danger, loyalty becomes war, and Gianna learns that some destinies were written long before they were born. She was supposed to stay away. He was supposed to reject her. But fate never plays fair.

I had always been a people pleaser. Yet somehow, I ended up transmigrating into the role of the vicious wife of a general. After three years away at war, Scott Holden returned and brought his so-called true love back with him. I handed over the main bedroom without hesitation, cooked for her myself, stayed up all night stitching a pair of matching pillows, and even had all the staff lined up to welcome her properly. But instead of being pleased, Jennifer Cross burst into tears. "This is all my fault. I have no name, no status, yet I'm staying here at Holden Residence, letting Lillian humiliate me like this. If that's the case, I'll just leave!" It hit me all at once. So that was what she wanted. A proper title. So I drafted a divorce letter for Scott myself, brought it to him, and said with an ingratiating smile, "After you divorce me, could you maybe keep me on the side as a mistress? My parents are gone. I don't have anywhere else to go." Scott flew into a rage. "I see right through your little tricks. Jennifer is just staying here temporarily. Are you really that petty?" From that day on, he never set foot in my room again. Then one day, enemy forces attacked. Jennifer and I were both captured and strung up on the city wall, forcing Scott to choose between us. Before he could even decide, I shouted eagerly, "I'll die, I'll die! I'm totally willing! I love that rush you get from falling from high up, that adrenaline spike!" After all, once I died, I could finally go home. But for the first time, Scott's eyes turned red with panic.