The Dinner

For 23 years old woman, Gia Florence went through lots of breaks up and she never been in a relationship for more than six months. All because she ends up being cheated or any other reason. She always thinking of a fairytale where the princess meets her prince charming and they live happily ever after but didn't find the right guy to be her prince charming yet until one day, she encounters Lucas Santiago who also her father's business client. She had this feeling that he is different from any of her ex and wants to get to know him. She tries various ways to get his attention but it's hard than her thought. So, she gains all her courage and tries again and again. ***** I waited for a few rings before he picks it up. "Hey Lucas, it's me, Gia," I said. "Yes, I know it's you, Miss Florence. What do you want?" He asks. "You save my number?" I ask to ignore his question. "Even if I didn't save your number, I'd probably already memorize your number because this is not the first time you call me. So, what do you want from me, Miss Florence? I am busy right now," "Come on, it's weekend. Stop working on the weekend, will you? Take a rest and enjoy the weekend." "If you don't have anything important to say, then bye." "Wait! Don't hang up yet." "Yes?" He asks and I know he annoyed right now. "Can you accompany me for dinner tonight?" I ask hoping he will agree. "No." With that, he hangs up. I look at the screen and sigh. ***** Wants to know what happens? Give it a shot! It will be a roller coaster love story but also it is worth it to read it.

After half a month of nonstop overtime, I secured a contract worth over ten million, pulling the company back from the brink of collapse. My boss, Richard Gray, was overjoyed. At the celebration party, he called me the pillar of the company and announced that he would reward me with a bonus. However, when the end of the month came, and I opened my payslip, I froze. Negative 250 dollars. A negative commission? I actually owed the company 250 dollars? I immediately called the finance department, asking if there was a mistake on my payslip. They replied, "No mistake. This is the cost calculation formula that Mr. Gray personally instructed us to use. He said you'd understand once you saw it." I went straight to Richard for an explanation. He laughed. "The contract that you signed, after factoring in the concessions, upfront resources, and hidden expenses, left the company with a net loss of 150 thousand. Since the loss was due to your personal decisions, you're responsible for five percent. That totals to 7500. "Considering how hard you worked, we deducted it from your base salary first. But your salary wasn't enough, so you still owe the company 250. Don't worry. The company treats its employees well. We'll write that off." Soon after, he awarded 100 thousand dollars to the newly arrived intern. I watched the newcomer, probably connected to Richard, cheerfully treat the entire company to dinner with her bonus, and something inside me just snapped. From that day onward, I did the bare minimum. I clocked in. I clocked out. Nothing more. Later, when a critical project went catastrophically wrong and the company faced a colossal compensation demand, Richard came begging me to fix it. I just smiled and said, "Sorry, Mr. Gray. I've already resigned. If there are any problems, you can ask the intern who got the 100 thousand dollar bonus to handle it."

A group of armed robbers ambush the kindergarten, resulting in my son, Finn Hart, becoming a hostage. A ticking time bomb is strapped to his tiny body afterward. My husband, Nolan Hart, also known as the best bomb disposal expert in the whole nation, arrives at the scene immediately. Meanwhile, I stand by the monitor in the command van, my eyes glued to the screen. I can see a burlap sack covering Finn's head. My poor son is trembling violently out of fear. But once Nolan and his assistant-slash-first love, Summer Castellano, enter the scene, the latter actually has the guts to ask for permission to dispose of the bomb. "Nolan, let me have a taste of what it feels like to be a heroine who gets to save lives. Is that okay?" As Nolan gazes at Summer, he flashes a doting smile at her. "Go ahead. You can just cut the red wire. Don't worry, if anything happens, I'll face the consequences on your behalf." Summer reaches out with her scissors excitedly and snips the blue wire without hesitation. The next thing everyone knows, the countdown on Finn's bomb shifts from ten minutes to ten seconds instantly. Both Nolan and Summer's expressions change drastically. They quickly turn tail and flee the scene. On the other hand, my eyes go as wide as dinner plates at the turn of events. Just as I'm about to rush into the kindergarten, I feel a tiny hand grabbing the hem of my shirt forcefully. "Mommy, Daddy will save Wyatt, right?" I look down to see Finn, who's standing right next to me. For a moment, my mind goes blank. Suddenly, I recall having heard him telling me when he called me with his smartwatch earlier today. "Mommy, Wyatt insisted on swapping clothes with me. He said my new sportswear looks better than his!" Wyatt Castellano is Summer's son… as well as Finn's half-brother.

I used to think I understood survival. By twenty-one, I’d figured out that my body was something I could trade, and honestly, I didn’t flinch at using it. Rain pounding outside, apparently, I barely noticed. I was too wrapped up with Bobby, his cock sliding against my lips while I tried to forget the outside world. “I need to fix supper,” I muttered, and then took him in my mouth. He groaned. His hands knotted up in my hair, pushed me lower, and I swallowed every part of him. A hundred bucks. That’s what it took to make all this feel like just another night, just another transaction. That’s my reality, balancing family, hiding secrets, hustling through college by day, doing whatever it takes at night. But then my dad’s promotion depends on one dinner party. Suddenly, I’m orbiting two men who don’t just spot weakness, they exploit it. What starts with forced politeness turns into something darker. Surveillance cameras watch as I give in again and again, my body traded in deals I never agreed to. The difference between “okay” and “forced” vanishes every time I obey. At some point, I realize what this compliance has actually cost me. Not just my body, my choices, my future, all of it chipped away until the only decision left is brutal: keep giving them what they want and disappear inside myself, or risk everything to fight back against the machine trapping me here. My family’s fate is always tied to me. My body isn’t mine to bargain with anymore. So I keep asking myself: after everything, can someone like me actually claw my way back from submission when it was forced from the start? Keep reading to find out.

Despite being married to me, Don Massimo Cortese has forgotten my birthday once again. On my 25th birthday, he brings his most capable Underboss, Catia Sangalli, home with him. "Catia is pregnant." His tone remains even, as though this is nothing more than routine business. "She's pregnant with my child." My eyes become as wide as dinner plates. I can only stare at Massimo in disbelief. There isn't a trace of guilt on his expression. If anything, there's a hint of calculation in his eyes. "My family needs an heir, which you can't produce at all." That's when I finally give up on Massimo. After wiping my tears away, I pass him a divorce agreement that I've prepared in advance. Massimo just smiles lightly as he signs the agreement without hesitation. His friends are confused, to say the least. "Aren't you going to ask the Donna to stay, Don Cortese? Everyone in Napango knows very well just how much you love her. Are you seriously going to let her go like this?" Massimo says firmly, "Don't worry. She will never be able to leave my side. Angelica doesn't even have any family in this world. Who else can she seek out but me? "She's far too temperamental right now, so she needs to be taught a lesson. Once she finally learns her place, she will come back to me." I pretend to not hear the conversation as I pack my luggage quietly. What Massimo doesn't know is that I've taken the initiative to give up on my inheritance rights to the Rocchi Famiglia's assets five years ago because of the family rule that states, "No Rocchi is allowed to form marital ties with other forces." This time, I'm going to cut all ties with Massimo and return to the Rocchi manor as their heiress alongside my unborn child.

"Does my son fuck you this good? No? Then take this dick like the good girl you are." My father-in-law had me bent over the kitchen counter, hand clamped over my mouth to muffle my moans, while his son—my husband—called my name from upstairs... *** You think you know what you're getting into? You don't have a fucking clue. This isn't some tasteful romance where the camera pans away. This is the raw, uncut, NC-17 version of your filthiest 3 AM fantasies—the ones you'd never admit to anyone, not even yourself. We're talking Daddies who don't ask permission because you already gave it with those desperate eyes. Men old enough to be completely off-limits but experienced enough to make you forget your own name. They'll bend you over their desk, fuck you silent at family dinner, and make you call them Daddy while reminding you how young, and tight you are. Trigger warnings? Everything here is designed to trigger you. Age gaps that'll get you disowned. Rough hands leaving fingerprint bruises on your hips. Choking that blurs your vision while he calls you his perfect little slut. Public sex in places you'll never see the same way. Getting passed around because one man isn't enough. These men don't make love—they fuck, claim, own. They'll use every hole like it belongs to them because it does. Degrade and worship you in the same breath. Call you their dirty girl while balls deep making you scream. Now be a good girl, turn the fucking page, and let Daddy show you what you've been missing.

“Don’t moan too loud, angel.” Cassian’s voice was a husky whisper against Seraphina’s ear, his fingers moving deep inside her as her back arched helplessly against the wall. The air was thick, the danger sharper than the pleasure tearing through her body. Her husband was only a room away. “Be a good little slut for me,” Cassian murmured, lips brushing her throat, “or Lucian will hear you, and then he’ll know exactly who owns you.” Seraphina bit down on her lip, muffling the cry that threatened to break free. Her heart hammered in her chest - guilt, desire, fear - all colliding at once. It was madness, sin, everything she swore she’d never do… and yet she couldn’t stop. Not when Cassian’s touch felt like salvation. **** Seraphina thought she had married her dream man. Lucian Veyron, the dazzling billionaire who swept her into a fairytale romance, promised her forever. But after the vows, he became a stranger - cold, cruel, and determined to make her life miserable. Then the accident happened. Seraphina wakes in a private ward, nursed by gentle hands and soothed by a voice that calls her beautiful, a man who worships her body like she’s his only prayer. But he isn’t her husband. He’s Lucian’s identical twin - Cassian Veyron. Cassian is everything his brother isn’t - tender, protective, dangerously addictive. When she's stronger, they return home with Lucian confined to a wheelchair, Cassian moves into their mansion to help. Now Seraphina is forced to live under one roof with the husband who broke her… and the brother who makes her burn. Every glance across the dinner table is fire. Every secret touch in the hallway is temptation. Every stolen night feels like a sin she never wants to escape.

"I thought you were my savior. I didn't know you were the one who set the fire." The day the debt collectors came for my family, I couldn’t even scream. My voice has always been a prisoner of my anxiety, leaving me defenseless in a world of wolves. Then came Ignatius. My brother’s best friend. A man with the face of a saint and the wealth of a king. He didn't just save me; he bought my world. He paid the debts, moved me into his palatial estate, and whispered that I was finally safe. For the first time, I felt the warmth of a "hero." I gave him my trust. I almost gave him my heart. But a saint doesn't keep cameras in your bedroom. The crushing realization hit harder than any blow from a collector: Ignatius didn't buy my debt—he created it. He paid the men who terrified my mother. He orchestrated the ruin of my brother. Every tear I shed was a calculated investment in my total dependence on him. He didn’t want a lover; he wanted a broken pet. Now, the "Saint" has dropped his mask. Ignatius thinks because I am mute, I am powerless. He thinks because I am fragile, I am his. He’s wrong. If Ignatius wants to play the Predator, I’ll find a bigger one. His father, Cane—the cold, ruthless patriarch of the empire—is the only man Ignatius fears. I’m moving from the guest room to the master suite. I’m going to tear this family apart from the inside out, one forbidden dinner at a time. Ignatius ruined my life to own me. Now, I’m going to make sure the debt he owes me costs him everything.

When I was young, I saved a fae—charming and extremely handsome. In return, he offered me one wish, and I, lost in romantic fantasies, asked for the strongest wolves to be obsessed with me. It sounded dreamy—until it wasn’t. Obsession, I learned, is a storm disguised as a dream. First up, my stepbrother—his obsession turned him into a tormentor. Life became unbearable, and I had to escape before a mating ceremony that felt more like a nightmare than a love story. But freedom was short-lived. The next wolf found me, nearly made me his dinner, and kidnapped me away to his kingdom, proclaiming I would be his Luna. He wasn’t as terrifying, but when he announced our wedding plans (against my will, obviously), his best friend appeared as competitor number three. “Great! Just what I needed,” I thought. This third wolf was sweet, gentle, and truly cared—but, alas, he wasn’t my type. Desperate, I tracked down the fae. “Please, undo my wish! I want out of this romantic disaster!” My heart raced; I really needed him to understand me. He just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry, you’re on your own. But I can help you pick the best one out of them!” How do I fix this mess? Facing three intense wolves: “Marry me, I’ll kill anyone who bothers you!” the first declared fiercely. “No, marry me! I’ll make you the happiest ever,” the second pleaded. “I’ll destroy every kingdom you walk into. You’re mine!” the third growled, eyes blazed. “Seriously, what have I gotten myself into?” A long sigh escaped my lips. Caught between a curse and a hard place, I really just wanted peace and quiet…but which one do I choose?

When I was seven, my father brought home a beautiful lady who gave me a mango. That day, my mother watched me happily eating the mango while she signed her name on the divorce papers. After that, she jumped off the roof of our building. From then on, mangoes became the nightmare of my life. So on my wedding day, I told my husband, Alan Holt, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." Alan pulled me into his arms, quiet. From then on, mangoes became off-limits for him, too. On Christmas Eve of our fifth year of marriage, Alan's childhood sweetheart, Larissa Fennimore, left a mango on his desk at the office. The very same day, Alan announced he was cutting ties with Larissa and fired her from the company. That day, I truly believed he was the man I was meant to be with. Half a year later, I flew back from overseas, having just closed a partnership deal worth about 200 million dollars. At the celebration dinner, Alan handed me a drink. After I had finished half the glass, his so-called childhood sweetheart, the woman who had been kicked out of the company, stood behind me with a big grin and asked, "Does the mango juice taste good?" I stared at Alan in disbelief, and he was trying hard not to laugh. "Don't be mad. Larissa insisted I played a little joke on you. I didn't actually give you a mango; I just gave you a bottle of mango juice. But I think she's right. The fact that you don't eat mangoes is a real problem. You were really enjoying that juice just now." My face went cold. I lifted my hand and threw the rest of the mango juice in his face, then turned around and walked away. Some things are never a joke. I wouldn't kid around with mangoes or divorce.