Winx Club Evil Bloom

Growing up, Guinevere had no parents. She suffers from her aunt’s mistreatment. However, everything will change when she turns 18. A beautiful stranger appears in front of her door and says he is taking her. She knew she should run as far as she could but the man tells her that he owns her. Being sold to someone you don't know is one thing. Realizing that the one who bought her is not human is another. Because he is a devil. A beautiful temptation. Will she be able to run from this mad arrangement? Or will she be trapped in a dangerous game with him? In the underworld, watch how Guinevere discovers the truth about herself and succumbs to the slavery of a different kind.

Alaric is a man of great wealth, marrying an ordinary girl does not make him poor. But will Alaric's encounter with Emerald, a cold girl, change Alaric's nickname as the 'Demon King' because of the way he leads a big company? Alaric does not love Emerald, and neither does Emerald. They are united by the bond of marriage only because of an arranged marriage. Stay tuned!!!

Isabella Harrods is a young journalist who meets Terrence Langston, the CEO of Langston's jewelry and the son of the most notorious mafia lord, who was assassinated by his own son, Terrence. Following their meeting, a serial killer imitating Terrence's father's killing pattern emerges, triggering Terrence's PTSD. Even though there is a serial killer on the loose, their hate-to-love relationship blossoms. Terrence forces her to sign a blood contract stating that only death can keep them apart. As the murder rate and Terrence's recurring PTSD skyrocket, Isabella decides to track down the perpetrator. Having sealed a blood deal with him, what happens when she walks in on him while carrying a severed human head?

In two steps he was on her, yanking her up straight and turning her around to face the wall. She gasped at the change in dynamic: her teasing and taunting were shoved roughly to one side and now he was in full and total control. Jo trembled as he dropped a slow, sexy kiss on her right shoulder, then lightly nipped her soft skin before moving his mouth to her ear. “Don’t you move, angel,” he murmured. “Keep facing forward.” **** Jolene Angeles is fresh out of a nightmare marriage and parked at a roadside biker bar hunting for one thing: Mr. Right Now. In a few days, she’ll have a new job, a new city, a new life, and a single, forgettable one-night stand feels like the perfect way to burn the past down. Then she meets Zeke. Silver-eyed, dangerous. Exactly the kind of mistake she wants. One night, no names, no aftermath. Zeke “Silver” Bennett doesn’t lose control. Ever. He learned that lesson once, and it nearly destroyed him. So when he spots the dark-eyed woman across the bar, he knows the rules: one night, clean break, no complications. Until fate throws them together again... and secrets start detonating. They didn’t tell each other the truth. Now they’re forced to decide: can trust be built on lies? And if the truth finally comes out – raw, painful, unforgiving – will either of them be brave enough to risk real love?

Arthur James, the Devil Alpha, is a man of shadows, his heart as cold as the moonlit night. Yet, destiny intervenes, forcing him to marry Ava Charlie, a woman as pure as the driven snow. With a secret past and a fragile hope, Ava must navigate the treacherous world of werewolves. As their bond deepens, can love blossom amidst the darkness, or will the Devil's past consume them both?

She was always the shadow. He was always chasing the light. Lavinia Hartwell had learned early that love was rarely for girls like her. She was the quiet one, the overlooked one—always second to her luminous best friend, Verity Langford. Even Henry Wynthorne, the boy whose compassion had unexpectedly caught her heart in high school, only had eyes for Verity. But years change people. Henry’s dreams of studying abroad collapsed with his father’s death. Verity left. Success became his only compass, and alcohol his only escape. And somehow, in the wreckage, there was Lavinia—never demanding, never judging, quietly holding him together in ways he never noticed… until she was gone. When an arranged engagement threatened to give her to him, Henry assumed she was being forced into it and set her free. Lavinia smiled, thanked him—and walked away, taking with her the steady presence he had taken for granted. Only then did Henry begin to notice the ache. The way her absence unsettled him. The way another man’s hand on her waist ignited a heat that was not anger, but something darker, sharper, and dangerously possessive. A single night blurred the lines forever—her lips on his, soft at first, then desperate, as though she’d loved him all her life. Desire flared, undeniable. But in the morning, she was gone again. Now, with Verity back and the past colliding with the present, Henry must face the truth: he no longer loves the woman he once chased. But has he realized too late who truly held his heart all along? Slow-burn, sensual, and laced with aching restraint, this is a story of unspoken devotion, of a man’s reluctant fall, and of the quiet girl who was never anyone’s first choice—until she became the only choice.

A well-known actor, Ellie Syallis have fans of varying levels— most of them are obsessed, very obsessed. A day awaited by her fans came, where people that won and bought the limited slots came. They finally met their idol face to face, got to shake hands with the female and an autograph on one of her limited-edition DVDs, on cards and on pictures as well. But her once peaceful life will start to take turn for the worse she sees at that very moment. A man wearing a formal business suit with a stoic appearance approached her. She gladly offered her hand and so they shook hands. The male asked for her autograph and she said "yes" with a brimming smile. She couldn't take her eyes of the male. He was undeniably handsome and somehow mysteriously attractive. "Here!" She handed her autograph on the sheet of paper the male gave. “Have a nice day! And oh, please keep on supporting me!” She added and partly bowed. The stranger flashed a smirk that made her heart skip a beat, both in a pinch of threat or fear and in unknown excitement. "You're now my wife. Hello, Mrs. Folster. Can't wait to spend the rest of my days with you." Her facial expressions shifted to surprise, annoyance, fear, melancholy, and into anger as she finally took a glance on the paper she signed. It was a marriage contract!

He was never supposed to want her. She was never supposed to survive him. But some fates are written in stone. And their love? It might burn the world down. ***** DANTE SALVATORE is a devil blessed with the face of an angel and cursed with a past he refuses to confess. Raised in the shadows of Europe's deadliest families, he carved an empire from blood and betrayal. He doesn't believe in God. He doesn't believe in love. Only power and control. But when he's given a gift by an old enemy, a trembling girl in holy white ,he doesn't expect her eyes to shake something loose in him. Something dangerous that could unravel everything he's built. …. CELESTE MOREAU is a fallen saint. A girl with too much guilt in her bones and too many prayers left unanswered. Haunted by the night her mother died while she was sneaking out to meet a boy, she's spent six years behind church walls, trying to repent. Trying to disappear. She knew what the other sisters did in the shadows. She just prayed she'd never be chosen. But when her only friend begs her to take her place for a mysterious client, Celeste finds herself sold to the most dangerous man in Europe. He is sin incarnate. And when he touches her, she doesn't feel fear. She feels alive.

"Do you honestly think I enjoy this?" He asks, his grip around my wrist so firm, so strong, they hurt as I try to twist, to get away from him. "Enjoy seeing you squirm in my hold like this? Enjoy making you cry?" "Please let me go," I croaked, choking back tears. "Let me go, Alessio." "And then what? Risk you running back to him? You wish he would come rescue you, don't you? You love him." "I love nobody. I will never love neither of you." "And that's where we have a problem, Camille. You should love me. Me and only me. I'm your fucking husband!" — Camille Galitze is a daydreamer. Daughter of Galitze Sturm, a dangerous Bravta underboss, Camille knows her future won't be a fairy-tale, considering her father's formidable influence, and thirst for more power. Obligated to marry Richard Scarfoni, a man she doesn't love but has utmost respect for, Camille is sad. But things take a turn for the worst when, on her wedding day, Alessio Scarfoni, the rightful heir of the Bravta Mafia storms the venue, and gets married to Camille, instead of Richard. Alessio Richard is back for revenge, and all those who had a hand in his assassination attempt have their days numbered. But first, to solidify his place, he steals his younger brother's bride from underneath his thumb. Camille has only ever known Richard, but there's something about Alessio that lays just at the tip of her memory, but always out of reach each time she tries to recollect. When their twisted arrangement turns into something either of them saw coming, Camille must learn to trust and find peace in her new, blazing feelings for Alessio if she wants to live, and rule by his side as his queen.

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.