We Don T Talk Anymore Jungkook

When war orphan Alexei Volkov flees Russia to Belgium, survival means stealing scraps until a mob nearly burns him alive. Rescued by Lucien Devereux, the ruthless Capo of Brussels’ underworld, Alexei is thrust into a world of blood, secrets, and power. Trained as an assassin and spy, he becomes indispensable—until a mystical ring from his uncle in India makes every man who sees him fall hopelessly in love. Soon, the Capo, the Mayor, the Police Inspector, and even the Governor crave for him. Is it love or a curse? And in a city drowning in obsession, who will Alexei choose?

Five years into my marriage to the Don, Ives Moretti, he left me for dead during a shootout to get his mistress, Isabella, to safety. I woke up three days later in a private hospital room. No apology. Ives was cold. “You’re my wife. You knew the risks. Stop being so dramatic.” Then, he added, “Isabella’s different. She’s fragile. She needed me.” That was followed by three months of the silent treatment. Like always, he expected me to be the one to break, to come crawling back begging for forgiveness. Three months later, I handed the Irish deal to Isabella on a silver platter. The big one I’d spent half a year building myself. Ives thought it was a peace offering. He smiled, a rare, genuine thing these days. “I knew you’d come around. As a reward, we’ll go to Vegas. I know you’ve always wanted to go.” The next day, Isabella whined about being bored, and he broke his promise. He took her to Vegas instead. Told me it was “urgent family business.” This time, I didn’t cry. Didn’t make a scene. Ives was pleased I was being so understanding. He had no idea I was already cutting all ties to the Moretti family. That he’d already signed the divorce papers. I was free.

I'm ten years older than Vincenzo Corleone. He had just turned 23 years old when he took over the Corleone family as the patriarch. A hint of teenage childishness could still be seen etched onto his youthful features. I was the one who held his hand and helped him calm the turbulence of his family affairs. I blocked three assassination attempts that were made on him. I used five years of my life to help him grow from a useless scion into the fearsome don who wielded the utmost authority in Nowork's underworld. Once, Vincenzo had embraced me in the church. He rested his forehead against my palm as he swore, "Age, identity, or the world's viewpoint of us will never stop us from being together, Freya. I will protect you with my life." But after that, he told his older brother, Marco Corleone, "Freya is too old. She's already 38 years old; I can practically smell the rot of age rolling off her. Even the crinkles in her smile disgust me to no end." Some time later, Vincenzo found himself a mistress who bore some resemblance to me. She was young and vibrant—like a white rose who had never experienced the ugly side of society. While Vincenzo gave me the title of the Donna of the Corleone family, he reserved his gentle, doting, and even passionate side for the mistress named Lina Marino. Vincenzo thinks he can pull everything off flawlessly. What he forgets is that the reason why I can establish my reputation in the underworld isn't because of his protection. I've been relying on my ruthlessness and my sharp sixth sense this whole time. When I slam the signed divorce agreement onto the spot before Vincenzo, I say with a smile, "You've fought by my side for so many years, so you should know very well that I can afford to go for high-stakes risks and withdraw my chips whenever needed. "But once I lose, someone here has to pay the price!"

Restaurateur and self-exiled heir Lucien Lenault's first look at the breathtaking young chef trainee for his trendy Chicago restaurant is a shock. She’s Elise Martin, daughter of a wealthy French fashion designer. She’s also the holder of a secret that could explode his carefully laid plans. Notorious for her flagrant exhibitionism, and for flouting the respectable façade of her aristocratic background, the coquine’s wild streak shocked most people. Not Lucien. He was tempted by it. It was a deliriously punishable offense as far as Lucien was concerned. But taking on Elise is more than a game. She’s a catastrophe waiting to happen, an inferno that’s burned many a lover. Lucien isn’t most men, however, and he won’t allow her to manipulate him. In order to control the defiant beauty—in order to see her submit—he’s going to have to willingly walk in the flames…

At the afterparty, my daughter, Mia Volpe, suffers from a sudden asthma attack. She collapses to the carpeted floor and goes through a seizure on the spot. But my Capo husband, Lorenzo Volpe, wraps an arm around his secretary, Sophia Bianchi, while watching Mia suffer before his eyes. Sophia had once shown him a forged paternity test of Mia and him. As such, he firmly believes that Mia is the bastard child of me and a Soldato. When Mia tries to reach out for Lorenzo, her complexion already bluish-purple from suffocation, he merely averts his gaze with a disgusted look on his face. "Daddy… S-Save… me…" I look everywhere for Mia's inhaler like a madwoman, only to realize that it's already empty. Sophia covers her mouth while tittering softly. "Dear me, Mia sure has an affinity for acting! Elena, I can't believe you and your daughter are willing to go to such lengths just to get Lorenzo to pay attention to you! "Since Mia likes acting that much, she might as well make the performance perfect." She lifts a high-heeled foot before crushing Mia's fingers, which were attempting to curl around Lorenzo's pant leg. Poor Mia was in so much pain, yet she couldn't let out a single sound. All she could do was scream silently into the void with her mouth wide open. I kneeled on the floor, my forehead already bleeding from smashing it against the floor repeatedly. "Lorenzo Volpe, Mia is your flesh and blood! Please, I'm begging you! Give me some medicine or call a doctor!" But Lorenzo just looks at me coldly, as though he's looking at trash. "A bastard like her is better off dead. Elena Corleone, stop using such underhanded methods to spoil everyone's mood." At that moment, what little love I still harbor for this man completely dissipates as I feel Mia's heartbeat gradually weaken. I no longer beg him for help. With trembling hands, I press the button on the emergency transmitter that I've sworn I'd never touch. That transmitter is the direct line to the highest authority in Smeraldia—my father, Don Vito Corleone.

He didn't bid for her, yet snatched her away from the highest bidder. Not only that, he killed them all. And Just like that, Rena's savior showed her a glimpse of his dark world. She should have taken to her heels, run away from him as fast as she could, but no, she had nowhere to go. On one side of her world, was her boyfriend, Roland, and his girlfriend, Soni, who put her up for sale in the first place, like a commodity. They killed her mother and ruined her life, and Rena was sure they would be waiting to catch her again. And, on the other side of her world, the highest bidder's gang might go looking for her to settle scores. Her surest bet was to go with her savior, whom she didn't even know his name. He has two conditions for saving her: win his daughter over and become his wife, or be returned to the wolves who wanted to tear her apart. To Rena, It was an easy task. She was good with kids… Except that her savior’s daughter wasn't a kid, she was Soni, her mortal enemy! Rena vowed for vengeance, but how would she seek vengeance when her savior loves his daughter a little too much? "Three days, Mr. Kaan, give me three days and I'll make you fall in love with me. Then, you'll have a reason to keep me," Rena promised. However, he looked down at her, shaking his head, he replied. "I don't fall in love... Make me obsessed with you, little kitten. The more obsessed I am, the harder it will be to let you go." He paused, lifting her jaw with a finger, "If you do, I might let you seek your revenge on Soni and Roland."

All of Novatia knew that Sophie Rossi was the foster daughter Soren Lucas doted on the most. However, on her 18th birthday, he punished her according to the family's rules. It was because Soren discovered Sophie had stolen his most precious Browning pistol and inserted it into her body. Three years later, Sophie returned with her body covered in wounds. She no longer loved Soren. However, Soren's fiancée, Isabella Johansson, refused to let her off. "You slut! How dare you desire your own Don?!" Sophie tolerated the cursing and beatings, only to discover the horrible truth. She 'committed suicide' by jumping off the cruise ship during Soren's wedding. Soren went crazy as he hugged her corpse.

Can money buy everything? Even love? Edan O'Connor, a millionaire, heir to a major investment company, promises his father to marry in front of him, on his deathbed, to fulfill his last wish, there is only one detail, his father does not tolerate his girlfriend, Vivian. So Edan decides to hire a girl to pose as his new girlfriend and fake a fake marriage in front of his father. At the hospital, Edan meets Alma Contreras, a beautiful and humble young woman, who has her mother hospitalized in need of surgery that she cannot afford. Edan proposes a deal, he will pay all his mother's medical expenses, if she pretends to be his girlfriend for a few days and an acted-out marriage. In the midst of desperation and need, Alma accepts. But there are two details, suddenly, what was supposed to be a fake marriage, becomes a real marriage and thanks to a last “minute surgery, Edan's father is saved, changing the course of his contract completely. What will happen when in the middle of the performance, true feelings begin to awaken between Alma and Edan? How will Vivian, Edan's real girlfriend, a pedantic and toxic woman, take the fact that her boyfriend has married another woman? Will love to be able to overcome the barriers of money and social class?

"Unbelievable! My virtuous daughter-in-law wants to become my mistress. I must be dreaming." Watching Edrick pretending to be all surprised, I wanted nothing but the ground to open up and swallow me whole. "I am truly willing to do anything you want," I desperately said. "Suck my d**k. I need to check the product before I buy it, right?" The playful expression on Edrick's face faded as he spoke with an intimidating tone. "What!" I gasped. On the day Elaira got married, she was kidnapped by her ex Edrick from whom she ran away five years ago while being pregnant and discovered that Edrick was her husband's father. On top of that, Elaira's husband tried to give her away to his father as a price for getting acknowledgement as his heir. After knowing that she was just a pawn in her husband's scheme for inheritance and becoming her father-in-law's mistress overnight who will she choose? Her treacherous husband or formidable ex who wants Elaira to give birth to his child even though she is now his daughter-in-law!

I am the lawfully wedded wife of Don Jones—the Donna of the Jones Family—and the founding CEO of his medical empire. I stood by Vincent's side as we built it up from a two-room surgical clinic into the crown jewel of European private healthcare. Then, in my eighth month of pregnancy, dying on the operating table, Vincent pulled every surgeon out of my maternity ward for the sake of his mistress. He killed our child with his own hands. He stripped me of the right to ever be a mother. He thought I was a homeless orphan with nowhere to go. He had no idea I was the sole blood heir of the Belmonte Family. After the divorce, I came home to command a global medical empire. He knelt and begged. I watched, cold-eyed, as he fell into hell.