Novel & Cerita Whiskey Lullaby Alison Krauss Lyrics

They've called me a lot of things; Desperate, reckless and stupid. My name is Arthur Rowen, and three months ago, my world ended. My father was murdered—skull branded on his forehead like a sick calling card, Lionel family signature marking him as a traitor. My twin brother Asher vanished the same night without a trace, like he never existed. The police won't help because Lionel's own them. So I did what any desperate, reckless, stupid person would do: I got myself hired at The Pit of Lust, the Lionel family's underground sex club. The plan was simple: infiltrate, investigate, find Asher, get out. Then Andreas Lionel noticed me. Seven years older, dangerously beautiful, rumored to have appetites that would make a devil blush. The man who might have signed my father's death warrant. He wants me in his private suite, in his bed and under his control. Maybe I should run and while I'm at it, I should remember why I'm here but Andreas touches me like I'm something precious, not another pretty body in his collection. Fucks me like he's trying to ruin me for anyone else, while somehow making me feel whole for the first time in my life. The worst part? It's working and my legs are spreading with each passing night shamelessly. I'm falling for the man who destroyed my family. My brother is still missing and my father is still dead. And I'm still lying to the one person who's made me feel alive. They say revenge is a dish best served cold. No one warned me it would taste like whiskey and sin on Andreas Lionel's tongue Or that I'd crave the flavor like an additive.

I'm a mafia princess with crippling social anxiety. My fiancé, Rocco Falcone, is our family's consigliere. He’s the exact opposite of me—extroverted, effortlessly charming, a master at reading and bending people. He's supposed to be my protector. My only link to the outside world. Tonight was the charity gala for my late mother. I was hiding in the darkest corner, a mask covering my face. Rocco was supposed to give the speech. My speech. He never showed. [Emergency. Sorry. Skip the speech, I know you hate the attention. Driver will take you home after the auction. Don't wait up.] Then I saw Livia’s new post. It was a picture of Rocco, draping his suit jacket over her shoulders. He was looking down at her, his eyes full of a tenderness he never showed me. The caption was a gut punch: [No prom date, so my big bro saved the day! Couldn't have done it without him! ] The cold hit me. Bone deep. He ditched a memorial for my dead mother... to take his stepsister to a university dance? The guests began whispering and sneering that I, the famously awkward, socially crippled princess, couldn’t even force a word out. I stared at the whiskey I’d ordered for him. The ice in my glass was melting. Just like the hope in my heart. When I got back to our empty penthouse, my screen was lit up with missed calls and texts from Rocco. The last one came in thirty minutes ago: [Aurelia, trouble at Livia's prom. You know how she gets. Couldn't leave her. Your mother's gala means everything. I'll make it up to you, I promise. Next time will be perfect. Trust me.] I didn't reply. An engagement held together by "next time." Was a promise like that even worth keeping?

"Jett?" My voice trembled. "Shhh, Bunny," he murmured, tilting the bottle and pouring the liquor over my p***y. The cold sting hit my swollen folds, and I jolted up, gasping as the burn spread through me. "Ahhh—!" I nearly buckled from the mix of cold fire and his hot tongue as he went back to eating me. My body jerked off the table, chasing the torment I knew I couldn’t withstand. He pulled back, eyes dark, smirking as his tongue followed every drop running down my thighs. "F***," he groaned. "You taste even better with whiskey on your pussy." --- I thought my biggest mistake was crushing on Jason Maltideon—my best friend, the boy I’d spent my life yearning for—only for him to reject me the moment the Goddess fated me to him. But my real mistake? Giving myself to the wrong man. His twin brother—Jettison Maltideon. He’s everything I should fear: wild, reckless, a walking sin wrapped in leather and gasoline. The kind of man who fights too hard, drinks too much, and smirks like he knows exactly how to ruin me. I hate him. I hate that he looks just like the man who shattered my heart. I hate that he knows my darkest secrets—and doesn’t care. But most of all, I hate that when he touches me, I burn. Jettison wants me. He doesn’t take no, and he’s made it clear he’ll chase me until I break. Now, with the Moon Goddess pulling our strings in a storm of betrayal, forbidden bonds, and a sickness tearing our pack apart, I’ll have to decide— Is Jettison my ruin? Or the only wolf who was ever meant to save me? Note: Rated 18+. Dark romance, morally complex characters, and triggering themes.

Serene’s heart raced as she stood in Nicholas’s dimly lit study, the scent of leather and whiskey heavy in the air. She’d been dusting the bookshelves when he entered, his presence filling the room like a storm. Now, he stood inches away, his black suit hugging his broad shoulders, his dark mullet framing a gaze that burned with intent. “You missed a spot,” he murmured, his voice a low growl, pointing to a shelf she’d already cleaned. Her cheeks flushed as she turned, the hem of her maid uniform riding up her thighs. “I-I’ll get it, Mr. Volkov,” she stammered, reaching up, but his hand caught her wrist, firm yet gentle. “No,” he said, stepping closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Let me show you.” His fingers slid down her arm, leaving a trail of heat, before guiding her hand to the shelf. His chest pressed against her back, and she gasped at the hardness of his body, the evidence of his arousal unmistakable. “You’re trembling, little maid,” he whispered, his lips brushing her neck, sending shivers down her spine. “Do I scare you… or do I excite you?” Her breath hitched as his free hand trailed up her thigh, slipping beneath the lace of her uniform. “Mr. Volkov…” she whimpered, but her protest melted into a moan as his fingers found her, teasing her through the thin fabric of her panties. “ Nicholas,” he corrected, his voice rough with desire, his touch growing bolder, circling her most sensitive spot until her knees buckled. “Say it,” he demanded, nipping her earlobe. “N-Nicholas,” she gasped, her body arching into him, surrendering to the fire he’d ignited. In that moment, the billionaire and his naive maid were bound by a hunger neither could deny.

Axel, handsome, smart, with a secret that hasn't been revealed yet, a secret that could clear up that mess of conflicting feelings that he was just having, that made him feel bad of what he felt for HER. Was it possible to have such strong feelings for someone who was connected to you by blood? But was she? She was the only person who helped him, who got him out of his crisis, who calmed his head when he started thinking too much. Emma was his sleeping pill, and the heartbeat that made his heart live. Ali never let her feelings control her, she didn't want to get hurt, and she never would let anyone get inside that part of her and hurt her. But there was him, Miles, there had always been only him, and he had tried so hard that by now she had become accustomed to his presence, to have him in her bed, but what would have happened if Miles had found something better? Someone who could give him what Ali never did in all those years? Would Alison have understood how important he really was to him or let him fly away from her? Liam had eyes always and only for one person, but that person never looked at him, her attention was focused on someone else, and Liam had done nothing but remain silent, let that love consume him silently until he met her, Ellen. She was everything a man could want in a woman, she consumed him, turned him around in her hands. But what would have happened if that love, that little flash of light had returned when he least expected it? If he had awakened in him that something he thought was lost forever? Who would have chosen Liam?

My father died of esophageal cancer. For the final two years of his life, he could barely swallow anything. By the time he passed, he was nothing but skin and bones. The first New Year after his death, he came to my mother in a dream. "I'm starving," he said. "I just want to taste the thick-cut steak you used to make." My mother believed it without question. That very day, she pan-seared a large platter of steak and carried it to his grave. The next morning, she suffered a sudden heart attack and died on the spot. Devastated, I handled my mother's funeral together with my husband. That same night, my husband dreamed of my father as well. "Chester," he said, "I haven't eaten in so long. I want your pâté, served with some strong liquor." When my husband woke up, he bought the finest liver pâté, opened a bottle of single-malt whiskey, and went straight to the grave. However, not long after returning home, he collapsed from acute liver failure. He was rushed to the ICU and died three days later. I was on the brink of collapse myself. I left my daughter in the care of a close friend while I tried to handle the endless wave of tragedy. That evening, my daughter never came home from school. I searched everywhere, and finally, on the road to the cemetery, I found her. She was clutching a bowl of spicy stew, several grilled sausages floating in the broth. "Mom," she said, "Grandpa and I used to eat this all the time. I dreamed he said he was hungry." I finally lost it. I knocked the bowl from her hands and carried her home. That night, my father appeared in my dream once more. "I suffered so much while alive," he said. "Have some pity on me. "New Year's is coming. I want to come home for a meal. Make sure you cook fish." I woke in terror. Holding my daughter, I sat before the three framed portraits for two full days without eating or drinking. On New Year's morning, I realized she was no longer breathing. Clutched tightly in her hand was a packet of spicy dried salmon. I could not believe it. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother, her eyes red with worry, said she was going out to buy steak.

On Christmas Eve, my uncle, Garrett Wayne, takes a sip from the fancy whiskey I bought. Then, he points at me while grinning. "Well well well… I've been watching you since you were a kid, Flint. You were a bed-wetter when you were a little boy, and now that you're all grown up, you stay cooped in your parents' shop while running that social media account of yours. You don't have any skills at all. "My Ronnie, on the other hand, has an amazing job that will continue paying him and keeping him around no matter how hard times get. Small businesses like your family's will definitely crumble as soon as the tiniest change happens in the global economy!" All of my relatives roar in laughter at Garrett's quip. My cousin, Ronnie Wayne, pretends to be playing on his phone, though his grin has already become ear-splitting. Mom and Dad can only laugh along as well even though deep down they are very uneasy and anxious. I just gaze at Garrett coldly. In six hours, the blizzard apocalypse will descend onto this world. At the same time, a zombie outbreak will occur across the globe. In my previous life, Garrett, who had looked down on my family and me, didn't hesitate to push us into the upcoming zombie horde just to take over my parents' grocery store. In this lifetime, I swear that I will never let him off the hook! I'm about to pick up a plate of food and smash it onto Garrett's head when I hear a mechanical voice chiming in my head. "Ding! You have been bound with the Rage System! You may talk back and retort to others to your liking in exchange for supplies. The more arrogant you sound, the better supplies you'll receive!" As I look at Garrett's insufferable face, I let out a chuckle. "Oh yeah, I'm not skilled at all. But I suddenly remember this funny little thing. Uncle Garrett, you claimed that you had gone on a business trip to Brimstone eight years ago. But the truth is, you got arrested by the vice squad, right? "Does Aunt Cassia know about this?"

The five major mafia families in Neopolis had an unwritten rule. None of the core family members was allowed to marry a commoner, but the heir to the Colombo family, Adrian Colombo, had fallen in love with me. Adrian openly defied his family's committee for me but ended up being slapped a hundred times in public as his punishment. He was also forced to drink whiskey with glass pieces mixed into it. While getting his stomach pumped at the hospital, he smiled and comforted me, "Don't cry, Ella. I'm willing to accept any punishment as long as I can be with you." After that, Don Colombo finally agreed to let Adrian marry me, but on one condition. He had to give his family a new heir by having a child with his deceased older brother's fiancée and his sister-in-law, Cecelia Gambino. Adrian agreed to the terms in order to marry me. He told me that we could be together forever after Cecelia gave birth to an heir. After that, he slept with Cecelia 99 times until she was pregnant. I thought we could finally be together, but Adrian told me apologetically that Cecelia was pregnant with a girl. The heir of the Colombo family had to be a boy. So, he slept with Cecelia another hundred times before she was finally pregnant again. Just when I thought I could finally marry Adrian, his daughter with Cecelia ingested cyanide by accident, and everyone thought I was the culprit. I was forcefully sent to the convent for one year. Adrian looked at me angrily. "How could you hurt my daughter, Ella?! She's innocent! How could you be so cruel? I'm so disappointed in you." He did not believe me! I felt a sharp pain in my heart. It felt like it was being torn apart. I was suddenly reminded of how he had made a promise to me in front of God. "Ella, I swear I will only love you in this life." When he was punished by his family for me, he said, "Ella, I'm willing to suffer any punishment just to be with you." Every time we slept together, he would kiss me over and over. "Don't leave me, Ella, or I'll die." However, when he stood next to Cecelia and carried their daughter in his arms, they looked like a real family of three. I was suddenly tired of everything. Adrian, from now onward, your name would never again appear in my prayers. From now onward, we would live as though we had never met each other and we had never been in love. I would set you free.

On the night my family got wiped out, someone had hidden me behind the barrels inside the wine cellar. The gunshots kept going off the entire night outside the cellar. I could only curl up between the barrels while listening to unfamiliar voices cursing in Etarino. All I could do was gnash my teeth together in order to not make any sounds. At the break of dawn, the wine cellar's door was opened from the outside. Two people could be seen standing in front of the pouring light. The first person was Antonio Corleone, a 15-year-old teenager who was also the oldest son of the Corleone family. He was still holding a gun, which had smoke wafting from its barrel. The second person was Matteo Corleone, Antonio's younger brother. His clothes were stained with blood that didn't belong to him. Antonio crouched down before draping a coat over my body. "Don't be scared, Elena," he said. "From today onward, I'm your family." Matteo squeezed Antonio away before stuffing a warm slice of panettone into my hands. With red-rimmed eyes, he said, "My brother is right. I'll kill whoever has the guts to hurt you." It was Christmas Day of 1999. Back then, I was ten years old. For the next 20 years, I grew up in the estate located in Vosaro and became an essential part of the Corleone family. At the same time, I also grew up to be the woman both Antonio and Matteo have a crush on. The entire family has noticed their obsession and love for me. Antonio and Matteo help me exact vengeance on the people who killed my family. They even buy a football team and name it after me. Everyone thinks that the brothers are head over heels in love with me. They patiently wait for the news when one of them will marry me. Even I also think the same. But on the night before my 30th birthday, when Don Corleone asks the brothers who among them wishes to marry me, Antonio snuffs out the cigar in a crystal ashtray. "Father, you should know that I'm terribly busy with the family's affairs, so I have no time to marry anyone." Matteo swirls the whiskey in his glass while wearing a flippant smile. "Father, I'm only 33 years old, and I'm not done having fun just yet. Besides, marrying Elena is just a joking promise that I've made when I was young. I'm not going to follow through with it." The next day, the brothers decide to propose to my enemy's daughter, Sophia Volpe, at my birthday banquet which I have painstakingly prepared. They even force me to drink the entire bottle of grappa despite the fact that I've been suffering from stomach issues for ten years just to please Sophia. When I get carted into the ambulance after suffering from stomach bleeding, Antonio and Matteo immediately cover Sophia's eyes with their hands while claiming that I'm just faking my illness. The moment I feel blood rising from my throat, I've made up my mind. On the day I'm set to get discharged, I dial a phone number. "I will get married to the heir of the Rossi family."