Novel & Cerita Urban Beauty Salon

Dominic Pendragon, a ruthless mafia rules the city’s darkest empire with an iron fist—feared, ruthless, and untouchable. Love has no place in his world... until Matteo Rossi crashes in like a storm. Matteo’s street-smart, scarred by a past he can’t escape, and desperate to survive. When a botched scam puts him in Dominic’s sights, he expects death—but instead, Dominic offers him a dangerous deal. Drawn together by pain and secrets, these two men from opposite worlds share a fiery connection neither can deny. But trust is a luxury they can’t afford—and betrayal lurks in the shadows. As rival gangs close in and their hidden pasts unravel, Dominic and Matteo must choose: fight for a love that could destroy them... or burn everything to ashes. can they? Enemies. Lovers. Survivors. This is a story of power, passion, and a love forged in fire. #BL #MafiaLove #EnemiesToLovers #DarkRomance #ForbiddenLove #Angst #SecretPast #PowerAndObsession

For 200 years, a generational cursed family has fed on its own female blood… but Isabella’s mother refused to be part of it, fleeing with her daughter to start a new life. Years later, tragedy strikes again, leaving Isabella to grow up under a cruel stepfather and a stepmother who treats her worse than a servant. When her stepfather’s business teeters on the edge of ruin, an arranged marriage to ruthless Mafia billionaire Tavian Crowne is offered as salvation. Tavian is cold, unfeeling, and notorious for his disdain toward women after his mother and first love’s betrayal—but he expects a spoiled heiress, and he has no idea who Isabella really is. But, danger waits in every shadow: enemies from outside, the lingering secrets of her mother’s past, and a brother who believes Isabella must die.

At the National High School Football All-Star Game, my boyfriend Evan had just been named MVP. Sophia, the cheer captain, immediately posted on Instagram. Caption: "Guess who got a little something from the champion himself~" The photo turned out to be a pair of Evan's worn underwear! Scrawled across them in lipstick were the words: "For my dearest Sophia." She held them up with her long acrylic nails, pouting for the selfie. The internet exploded. "Why does she have his underwear?" "Isn't it obvious? They're totally together." "Sitting here waiting for the official couple photo." Within seconds, a close-up of the two of them cheek-to-cheek surfaced in the comments. Congratulations and teasing flooded the feed. I gripped my phone, a chill spreading through my entire body. Evan had promised to go public about us ages ago but kept putting it off, saying he needed to prove himself first. He'd been stalling ever since. Now here I was, his actual girlfriend, and I didn't even get an invite to his victory party. I took a deep breath and called him. "Explain." On the other end, Evan's voice was lazy, almost amused. "The fans grabbed everything off me. Jersey, pads, all of it. Sophia insisted on keeping something as a souvenir, so I gave her the underwear. No big deal." "The Instagram post is just riding the hype. Don't be so uptight about it." Then Sophia's voice chimed in. "Yeah, honey, Evan and I are like brothers! I've seen everything on him already. It's just a pair of boxers, so don't be so petty." I listened to their increasingly flirtatious banter through the speaker, then slowly pulled off my engagement ring and tossed it aside. "Fine," I said to Evan. "I'll be the bigger person. Why don't you skip the 'girl bro' thing and just make her your girlfriend? I'm tired of watching this act."

SLAP "You think I’ll let Cassian take the fall ?" "He’s my son. You? You’re just a face I regret making"!!. Lucien was born with a secret. One even he didn’t understand. One his father always knew — and hated him for. While his twin, Cassian, lived a life of freedom, Lucien lived locked behind doors, punished for simply existing. He wasn’t allowed outside. He wasn’t allowed to live. He was hidden. Forgotten. Broken. Until one party changed everything. A mafia princess was hurt. Cassian was to blame. But their father made sure Lucien paid the price. That night, Lucien was handed over to Zayn Kingsley — A billionaire mafia heir. One of the Eight who rule the city from the shadows. He has two wives. A daughter. And a dying father whispering: “Give me a son. A true heir. Or lose everything.” Zayn doesn’t believe in weakness. He doesn’t believe in love. And he definitely doesn’t believe in men like Lucien. Zayn is cold. Ruthless. Homophobic. But what Zayn doesn’t know… Is that Lucien carries more than pain. He carries a secret that defies biology, logic, and everything Zayn thought he knew: 🩸 Lucien can bear an heir. And what started as punishment becomes obsession. What started as hate begins to burn into something forbidden… and terrifying. ---

Snowie Walton, the belle of the class, claimed she could hear my thoughts. When a classmate gained weight from hormone medications, she pointed at me and shouted, "Why did you call Eva a disgusting fat pig? Do you think you'll never be ill in your life?" The others believed her right away. They surrounded me, relentlessly demanding that I apologize publicly. From that day onward, I was isolated by the entire class. Later, during a lesson, the teacher mentioned her family. Snowie suddenly turned on me again. "What do you mean that our teacher only got this job through connections and that she has no capabilities at all? Show some respect!" I desperately explained that I had never thought such things, but the teacher didn't believe me. Not only was I written up for disciplinary action, but my scholarship was also revoked. Then, confidential documents from the school labs were stolen. Once again, Snowie blamed me. "How could you sell those files to foreigners and say that they were only worth a hundred thousand?" I was arrested by the police and convicted of leaking state secrets. I was sentenced to life imprisonment. In the end, I died in prison, consumed by depression. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day Snowie accused me of insulting Eva. By this time, she didn't know that I had uncovered her secret behind her so-called ability to hear my thoughts.

Tyler Demon Hunter- the beast. He is the ruthless bastard, who has killed people as ants. The mafia leader of his clan, Italian billionaire. The world is afraid of his power, his rage but not the Angel. Angel Rose, the simple innocent soul, who has struggled all her life to meet the ends. She is a brave soul, all alone in the world, working as a waitress and a florist, in the streets of Italy, earning barely enough to achieve her dreams of becoming a psychologist one day. She is the most beautiful girl you’d ever see, but life has never been as easy for her. Never! What happens when the beast falls in love with the beauty? Beauty needs no worldly affairs and the beast has no other option to shower his worldly love, cause he has not known anything else ever. They will be tied in a knot. Happily ever after in the scene, but how? She is an angelic beauty and he is a ruthless beast. He loves her but she hates him. What happens when two completely poles apart meet?

Anam is happily living her life with her sisters. Ayan just moved to a new place. what happens when Ayan crashes with a blonde beauty on his first day of work.

On a public holiday, I took Henry's mom, Johanna, to a new salon at Vanderbilt Court for a makeover. Halfway through, she suddenly cried out. I rushed over—burnt smell hit me hard. I yanked the machine off her head. Too late. Her hair was fried. Blisters spread across her scalp. I called the salon manager. She barely looked at us, lips curling. "What a hassle. If you can't afford luxury, don't pretend. I won't charge you. Now get out." I pointed at her. "You burned my mother-in-law. You're paying for her treatment and taking her to the hospital. Or I report this." Her brows shot up. Hands on her hips. "Oh, so now you're faking injuries for money? You even broke our premium equipment. You owe me a hundred grand today. And just so you know—this whole mall? My husband owns it. Pay up, or I'll make you." My heart stuttered. Vanderbilt Court... Johanna had just bought it and handed it to Henry. And he really had a side chick right under our noses.

On our tenth wedding anniversary, I made a special trip to the salon to have my hair done. While settling the bill, I noticed an extra charge on my account. It was a coloring and perm package. Judging by the price, it was a package meant for waist-length hair. Mine had been cropped short for seven or eight years. I called my husband, Jason Moore. "Have you used my salon membership card recently?" There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before he laughed lightly, "Oh, I lent it to Quincy a few days ago." Quincy Hahn was his business partner, a fine arts student with long hair. She treasured her natural curls more than anything. She would never be willing to dye or perm it. More importantly, her elder sister was a major shareholder of this salon. Why would she ever need to use my card? I said nothing more and ended the call. Then, I headed straight to a location displayed on my phone. In the cafe, a long-haired lady was nestled in Jason's arms. Her freshly permed curls were soft and bouncy, framing her blushed face with certain demureness. Jason had always complained that my short hair made me look rough and manly. I lacked gentleness and charm. It seemed this long-haired lady suited his tastes perfectly.

The air in the Parisian haute couture salon smelled like money and fear. I’d waited six months for my wedding dress. Now, it was draped over the shoulders of Sofia Ross—the trending influencer, and my mafia fiancé Vincent Cassio’s god-sister. The salon manager was sweating bullets, his eyes darting between me and the man lounging on the velvet sofa. Vincent Cassio stood up. He adjusted a fold of the diamond-encrusted train on Sofia with a casual flick of his wrist. “Her premiere next week needs a statement piece. She’s borrowing it. Pick something off the rack and stop making a scene.” His tone was flat, final. Under the crystal chandeliers, Sofia admired herself in the full-length mirror, a triumphant smile on her lips. I looked at my reflection in the same mirror, wearing jeans and a soaked trench coat. I looked like a lost tourist. Suddenly, the entire past year of planning felt like a sick joke. I didn’t yell. I just felt cold. Numb. I slipped the five-carat engagement ring off my finger. It hit the glass coffee table with a sharp, final click. “You’re right, Vincent. I don’t need this wedding dress. This wedding… I don’t need it either.”