Vampires Don't Sparkle

ELARA Elara My father stole millions from the devil and ran, leaving me behind to pay the price. Nero Moretti is the ruthless King of New York’s underworld. He is cruel, cold, and utterly unforgiving. To him, I am just a debt to be collected. A pawn in his brutal game. I swore I’d never break. I swore I’d never give in to the monster who holds my leash. But the longer I stay in his gilded cage, the more I see the man beneath the monster. And the more I fear the dark, twisted heat awakening between us. In a world ruled by blood and secrets, can I survive him? Or will I lose myself to the man who owns me, body and soul? NERO She was supposed to be nothing more than leverage. Use her. Break her. Discard her. That was the plan for Petrov’s daughter. I expected fear. I expected tears. But Elara is different. And there is a fire in her eyes that refuses to die. A fire that tempts me to step closer. Keeping her close stirs a hunger I thought I buried long ago. An obsession I can’t afford. She was just collateral. A means to an end. But now, she’s the one thing I can’t bend to my will. And the only thing I will burn the world to keep.

“I’ll keep you safe, Anya. Even if I have to lock you away.” * * Her brother kept her away from the Bratva’s bloody world. But the night he was killed, Anya Vasiliev was thrown into it. Straight into the arms of his best friend, Roman Sokolov. Now the new Pakhan, Roman swears she’s safest with him. But his protection feels like a prison… and his obsession, like chains tightening around her throat. He says he’ll burn Moscow to the ground for her. But will she ever escape the man who swore she’ll belong to him? No matter the cost?

As my due date approached, a massive discrepancy surfaced in the Galante family's arms accounts. The leadership made a swift decision. They sent me, Sophia Vitale, the Don's wife, the woman everyone claimed had nothing better to do, to personally inspect the armory and verify the inventory. I believed it was a routine check. I never imagined my husband's godsister, Monica Leone, would use it as cover to blow up the entire armory. The explosion was deafening. Fire ripped through the sky. Concrete collapsed around me, crushing my body as a searing pain tore through my abdomen. I did not call my husband on his highest-priority private line. Instead, I sent a distress signal to my father. In my previous life, the moment the explosion occurred, I had used that same priority channel to call my husband. The child had survived. Monica had been obliterated in the blast. My husband had claimed he did not blame me. He had said Monica was an outsider and that an heir mattered more. He had spared no expense, hiring elite obstetric specialists to monitor me day and night. He had told me to stay calm and wait for delivery. Then, on the day I went into labor, he personally locked me and the baby inside an abandoned warehouse drenched in gasoline and burned us alive. "If you hadn't deliberately delayed, she wouldn't have died. Do you really think playing the innocent victim could fool me? Dream on," he said. "You like playing with fire so much? Fine. I'll let you experience her despair yourself." When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the armory, at the exact moment of the explosion.

The second I opened my eyes, I knew. I was twenty-seven again. Back when I was the Leone heiress. The golden girl of Arezzo. Engaged to the Don of the Grimaldis—Marco Grimaldi. Handsome. Loaded. Time magazine's "No.1 Most Desirable Husband in the World." Even the royal family of Inglane had tried to marry a princess off to him. Everyone called me the luckiest woman alive. Yeah. Right. The first thing I did after coming back? I grabbed the marriage contract and walked straight to my father's affair daughter— the fiancée Marco had actually wanted all along. Bella Leone. I slid the contract across the table. "It's yours. You're marrying Marco." She just stared at me. Six years. That's how long I'd chased him. And now I was handing over the contract like it meant nothing. "Everyone thinks you're the better match anyway," I said. "So go ahead. Convince Dad to get the Grimaldis to switch the contract. You can have the Grimaldi Donna title." Not this time. I'm not becoming that suffocated, invisible Don's wife ever again.

Oh my goodness! "You... You killed him" My lips trembled as I spoke. My eyes focused on Cyrus blood which was spreading out. "Your turn, Step Sister" ******** Betrayed by her lover, Grisella Morretti falls into the trap of Don Raniero, her foster brother who was a ruthless Mafia Boss. To Don Raniero, she was a gold thief that he had to teach some sort of lesson and extract a heavy price for crossing him. But what he doesn't know is that Grisella's capture is just merely a pawn in her own game of REVENGE. Put on your seatbelt as we dive into this gripping tale of secrets, lies and hidden truths.

"Say it," Tenz growled, yanking her hips against the hood of his blacked-out car, his hand wrapped around her throat like a necklace made of danger. Kyoline's breath shuddered as his mouth traced her jaw, his fingers sliding under the hem of her leather skirt, teasing, threatening. "Say you're mine, or I'll make you say it with your teeth clenched and your legs shaking," he hissed, dragging his tongue along her collarbone. She smirked through the haze of lust and war. "I'm not yours, Tenz... I'm just letting you play with me until someone better comes to steal me." "Someone like who?" he spat. A cold voice answered from behind the shadows. "Like me," Isaac said. And just like that... the chaos began. --- Kyoline Diego was born of blood, betrayal, and gunfire. A mafia princess with ash in her veins and a Glock in her purse. Her childhood ended the day her father-a respected Made Man-was assassinated. Left for dead, she crawled from the ruins with nothing but vengeance and two younger siblings she'd kill for. Now eighteen and jaded, Kyoline bartends for mob rats by night, runs guns for a price, and slays in gold heels by morning. Love? It's not on the agenda. Survival is. Enter Tenz Jersey-her inked-up, lie-laced mafia beau. The man who f*cks like a god and lies like a sermon. He gives her fire, chaos, and a reason to breathe. He also gives her bruises she wears like medals and promises that vanish like smoke. She tells herself he's enough. Until Isaac. Cold. Calculating. Beautiful in a way that feels like a bullet wound. He shoves her into an unmarked SUV, claims he's NYPD, feeds her lies and cannoli-then laughs while she figures out he's actually the most lethal hitman.....

His steel gray eyes pierced into hers, and Rose felt like he become luring her into his daJA abyss. She took worried steps backward, however she didn't understand that he cherished the chase and derived pride from looking her run.She knew she couldn't run nor conceal from him, but there has been no different choice. He without difficulty cornered her in opposition to the wall, trapping her there. considered one of his arms snaked round her tiny waist, and the other caged her among himself and the wall. "tell me what you need, Rose," he stated, his hot breath fanning her neck. The moonlight cast a shadow on him, making him appear to be the satan he was. "What I need is to tug you to hell in which humans like you belong," she seethed. He let out a raw, deep giggle that had her insides twisting."And you suspect you will go away hell after dragging me there? interesting," James chuckled. "i'll ensure you might not get out of there. i'll make certain you have got nowhere else to run however my arms. My call can be the handiest factor you can pronounce as it might be the simplest element you think about, and whilst that occurs, you will be absolutely mine, Rose," he stated sinisterly. Trapped among love and struggle, Rose need to sail through if she intends to protect the humans she loves.

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.

Gadis mana yang tak akan bahagia jika memiliki seorang pacar atau kekasih yang tampan, kaya dan mapan. Seorang kekasih yang akan memberikan apapun yang kita mau dan kita inginkan. Tak hanya barang-barang branded dan limited edition tapi juga bisa mengabulkan keinginan kita saat ingin berlibur kemana saja. Jangankan hanya mengelilingi dalam negeri, mengelilingi dunia pun bisa. Tentunya banyak gadis yang akan merasa senang dan bahagia jika bisa memiliki pacar yang nyaris sempurna seperti itu. Nyatanya, semua itu tak berlaku bagi Gladys Nathania Mahestri, seorang mahasiswi kedokteran tingkat akhir di salah satu perguruan tinggi ternama di Jakarta. Gladys justeru sering merasa merana dan makan hati karena kekasihnya. Bukan karena kekasihnya tidak tampan dan kaya atau mapan. Bukan karena itu. Sungguh, Gladys bukannya tidak mau bersyukur memiliki kekasih seperti Alfandra Shaquille Bimantara yang kadar ketampanan dan kekayaannya di atas rata-rata. Lalu, apakah yang menyebabkan Gladys sering merana dan makan hati karena sang kekasih? Berhasilkah apa yang diharapkan oleh Gladys dari sang kekasih? Ikuti kisah perjalanan cinta Gladys yang penuh liku hanya di Goodnovel.

I met him in a place no sane woman should ever be in Blackgate Prison. As a prison therapist, I was trained to see danger. Every part of me screamed to stay away, but I couldn’t. He was a legend behind bars, Nikolai Sokolov, ruthless, untouchable, the leader of one of Russia’s most feared Mafia syndicates. Darkness clung to him like a second skin. The dim light carved his face into something sharp and dangerous. He looked at me, cold and unreadable, and held me in place with his gaze. “Who are you?” His voice was rough, heavy with threats and scars I couldn’t see. I forced a smile, trying to keep my voice steady. And yet… a part of me felt at home in this danger, a shadow inside I had never admitted, one that hummed quietly at his presence. It was darkness like his, though he couldn’t know it. “I’m Dr. Korovin. I’m here to evaluate you.” The chains rattled as he shifted, a predator testing the limits of his cage. His lips curved, not into a smile, but into a warning. “My name is Nikolai,” he said slowly, deliberately, heavy with threat. “Remember it, Doctor.” I should have been scared. I should have run. But something inside me stirred, something dark, like him, and I didn’t yet understand it.