What Was Lucifer's Angel Name

Lara is a prisoner, she will meet Mark in a hard situation, what will happen?? Both of them are completely devoted to each other...

The stable days of famous model Angel Backer begin to crumble when Ian Caccini comes back into her life, bringing with him tornadoes of emotions and dark secrets that could jeopardize the young woman's entire vision of the future. However, she will not be able to resist the unrelenting voluptuousness that the brunette makes her feel, even if the consequences of this are crucial. After all, no future would be interesting with the absence of Ian Caccini's wet kisses.

I'm betrothed to Hylton Miller from the moment I'm born. For as long as I can remember, he protects and loves me like I'm already his wife. Even if I get a tiny splinter on my hand, he holds it carefully as he gently clips it away. That is, until the young woman his family sponsors offends a client and is about to be sent to Zubania. He drugs me with a glass of wine. When I wake up, I'm in a foreign country and trapped in an illegal factory. Here, I endure inhuman abuse, torment, even humiliation... At my lowest, when despair almost swallows me whole, that sponsored young woman appears before me in a pristine, custom-made white gown. She smiles sweetly and presses the play button on a voice recording. And from the speaker comes the voice I long for every day and night. "It's fine. Alina's the young lady of the Winslet family—they won't do anything to her. But Priscilla? She's different. Worst case, I'll make it up to Alina when she gets back…" In that moment, it feels like someone tears my heart open with their bare hands.

On the day the true heiress and I swapped places, my childhood sweetheart, bound to me by a promise made in youth, gripped my hand before our families and declared, "I chose you, not your title." Anna Pedersen, tears brimming in her eyes, enveloped me in a trembling embrace. "Joanne, we'll always be family. I'd never take what's rightfully yours." Everyone assumed I'd turned misfortune into fortune. Though I lost my status as the Pedersen heiress, I gained a steadfast lover and a selfless sister. But three years after fate corrected itself, photos of Calvin Thomas escorting Anna to a prenatal checkup flooded the internet. When I confronted him, he exhaled a plume of smoke and said coolly, "Anna is my true betrothed. This is just setting things right. Why are you so worked up?" He seized my wrist and dragged our engraved engagement ring across the back of my hand, leaving a bloody gash. "This scar will remind you of the twenty years of life you stole. Your life and I belong to their rightful owner."

This story is about an angel who comes to earth and falls in love with a human. And struggle with his destiny.

The yacht I'm steering crashes into a huge wave, scaring my husband's junior, who has a heart condition. So, my husband orders someone to tie me up and dangle me in the ocean by a rope. He even tells the captain to head straight into the waves. "You know Wren has a heart condition, yet you still scared her! How can you be so evil?" I beg him to let me go and tell him that I was following a charted path; I didn't mean for anything to happen. However, he just mocks me. "You've been a yacht driver for so long. Haven't you experienced anything like this before? I'll make you go through what Wren did! Let's see whether you'll pull this again!" After a day and night of this torment, he relents and decides to pull me back up. It's too bad he doesn't know that the waves have already torn me to shreds.

After the plane crash, my body was never recovered. My soul drifted back to the home I hadn't stepped foot in for five years. They didn't know I was dead. They were still waiting for me to come home for Christmas. When my mom got the call from the airline, she froze for a long time, completely at a loss, before breaking down in tears. I followed them as they went to the memorial crash site. That was when I noticed something strange—I could see their levels of regret hovering above their heads. My brother's regret level read: 40%. My father's showed: 60%. Even my sister-in-law had 30% over her head. But my mother's regret level? It flashed a cold, unchanging 0%.

When Alexander Smith stands in front of me and says he's going to marry someone else, that's when I realize he's been reborn too. I remember our 20 years of love in our past life. A plane crash. And then, rebirth. "This is to save Sophia," he says. "In our past life, she was sold to a Vostmark oligarch after her father's political scandal. Not long after, she took her own life due to abuse. I can't let that tragedy happen again, so I need to get engaged to her." As he speaks, he hands me an orange prescription bottle. "If you take this, you'll forget me for a little while. You won't feel the pain. It's just seven days. Once her father's scandal blows over, you'll stop the medication and your memory will return. Then I'll end the engagement and officially propose to you." I stare at the bottle, knowing it's a lie. Not the part about Sophia's suicide. The lie is about the drug. He thinks it only causes temporary memory loss. But I know better. The suppressant causes permanent damage to emotional memory. The seven-day countdown isn't the time it takes for my memories to return. It's the time it takes for my love for him to die.

What's a Mafia without his Angel? Theoretically speaking, more devious, out of control, and needless to say, heartless. What if this Angel is a cop to want to put him behind bars? But when the mafia and cops are forced to work together to solve a serial killer case, all the tables are turned. Join Anastasia and Elijah on their journey to uncover who the mastermind behind this entire case is...

I should step back. But I don’t. His hand slides to my waist, firm, deliberate. Not asking. Claiming. My stomach tightens, heat curling low, and I feel every inch of him before I even see him. He’s behind me, close enough that I can feel his breath at my neck. My pulse stutters as his fingers trace slow, unhurried circles up my back, and I know I should pull away… but I can’t. His lips brush my neck. Not a kiss yet, just the promise of it. My head tilts back before I can stop myself, back arching like my body is betraying me. Then he speaks. Low, calm, in control “Don’t make a sound.” A shiver runs through me. Not from fear. Not exactly. From… him. He’s in control. I can’t fight it. I don’t want to. And somewhere deep inside, I realize the terrifying truth: I’m letting him have me.