Wrapped Synonym

"Hate was the only thing between us—until it wasn’t." -ISLA- Revenge is my birthright. Ever since the fire that claimed my brother and shattered my family, I’ve rebuilt the Moreau empire from the ashes. But every brick I’ve laid, and deal struck has come with one goal in mind: uncovering the truth behind that night. Ciaran Valente is the man I’ve hated since I learned how to hate. Infuriating, cruel, and too clever for his own good, he thrives in darkness, just like I do. But when the ghosts of my past tie his family to my brother’s death, my hatred becomes the least dangerous thing between us. Because Ciaran doesn’t just step into my world—he consumes it. He sees through my armor, breaks down my defenses, and dares to turn my pain into something far more dangerous than vengeance: desire. But love doesn’t exist for people like us. Only power. Only lies. And when the masks come off, one truth will destroy us both. -CIARAN- Isla Moreau is my personal form of torment. Sharp-tongued, calculating, and as untouchable as ice. I’ve craved breaking her for years—not just to prove I could, but because there’s nothing more tempting than watching a queen fall. But Isla isn’t a game. She’s fire wrapped in steel, and she hides secrets even darker than my own. When the past collides with the present, revealing the cracks in our perfect façades, I discover something I didn’t think I was capable of: obsession. She consumes me—mind, body, and soul. But while I want to own her, she wants vengeance. While I crave her surrender, she wants the truth. And in the end, we’re not just enemies. We’re fated to ruin each other.

I hadn't seen my mafia husband, Luca Moretti, and our daughter Dora in three whole months. Why? Because his mother, Fiona, said Dora should stay with her "for a while." And Luca? He was "too busy with business," as always. So when Luca finally called and said he was going to pick me up for a family reunion at the villa, I was overjoyed. I thought maybe, just maybe, I'd finally get to hold my little girl again. I spent the whole damn day running around the city, buying her favorite dolls, snacks, a new pink dress, anything I thought would make her smile at me again. But when the car arrived, it wasn't what I imagined. Before I could even say Hi, Dora turned her head, took one look at me… and then wrapped her arms even tighter around Maria, the maid. She buried her face in Maria's neck like I wasn't even there. Like Maria was her mom. I tried to approach her, but Dora straight-up told me she didn't want to ride in the same car as me. And Maria, wearing that fake, polite smile, kept trying to gently talk me into giving Dora "a little more time." I looked over at Luca, hoping he'd step in. Instead, he just looked annoyed, like he couldn't be bothered to lift a finger to help fix things between me and our daughter. Clearly, they didn't want me there. So what was the point of trying to join the ride? I stepped back from the SUV. Then Luca just turned to me and said, "Just wait here. I won't be long." What he'll never understand is… I'm done waiting for him.

His fingers slid into my hair, tugging just enough to tilt my head back and expose my throat to him. “We shouldn’t be doing this, Mr. Turner,” I breathed, my voice breaking on a gasp as he found a sensitive spot just beneath my ear and sucked lightly. His growl was low and primal, vibrating through my skin as he pressed his body against mine. I felt every hard line of him, his heat bleeding through my clothes. “Why not?” he murmured, his voice rough with restrained need. I swallowed hard. “You’re… you’re my ex-fiancé’s father.” He paused. For a moment, everything stilled… his breath against my throat, the air between us, even the rain outside seemed to hesitate. Then he lifted his head, and our eyes locked. His were a stormy blue, intense and unwavering. “No one has to know, Catherine,” he said quietly, his voice was like a dark promise wrapped in silk. Then he leaned in with his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “I can be your dirty secret.” A shiver ripped down my spine. His words settled deep in my gut, awakening something dangerous. I bit my lip. Every cell in my body screamed for me to walk away but I didn’t. Instead, I gripped the front of his shirt, pulled him down, and kissed him hard. Desperately. He rumbled low in his chest, kissing me back with equal hunger, his hands roaming my body like he already knew every curve. When he finally broke the kiss, I was breathless. Then he dropped to his knees between my legs, with his eyes darker now. “I’m going to show you the world,” he said. “If you’d let me.”

Staring at the garden doors, waiting for her to walk in after her first shift, the doors swing open and I stuck in place at the sight, her long beautiful blonde curls cascading down the front of another Alpha's chest, her face buried in his neck, her tan legs wrapped around his waist as her body lays against his back. I stumble backwards, I can't breathe, my wolf growls in my head, "MINE!" Looking in the rearview she's waving her arms and jumping up and down in a white t-shirt. I know what she wants, and I'll need to go off grid until I can convince my wolf to take the rejection. I scream, "STOP, COME BACK!" as I watched as the small red taillights disappear into the darkness. A tear rolled down my cheek as I turned and looked at the pack house, my wolf howled in my head, "MATE, GO AFTER HIM NOW!" This isn’t how I imagined my 18th birthday would go. I return to the Alpha Academy in Denver, only to find him gone, I steal his car and now sit at a crossroad, my wolf stirs, "go east." I sarcastically laughed, "really and you know this how?" She giggles, "his wolf will direct him back to the last place he scented you, he's heading back to NY." I arch a brow, " we'll track our Alpha, and hear his explanation." Following the path of bloody bodies, in the dodgiest bars, I know I'm on the right path but finding a young girl with his scent all over her, crying in a car outside of one, not what I was expecting. He did it to her too, captured her heart and walked away, just like he did me. Now I want a rejection not an explanation.

At nineteen, Elise Jones failed her ninety-ninth attempt to escape an arranged marriage. On the eve of being forced to wed an older man, she ran into the arms of Merrick Grant, the once-promising heir who had exiled himself from Crown City to a forgotten border town. Elise knew another woman had once held his heart, but it didn’t matter to her. She only wanted a way out—someone strong enough to pull her from the life that was swallowing her whole. What began as raw survival turned into months spent wrapped in each other’s lives. When the time came, he brought her back to Crown City, the glittering, intoxicating world he’d once abandoned. No one knew that the polished, silver-spoon heir of the Grant family had spent month after month living with her in a shabby rental apartment, worlds away from the life that once revolved around him. Elise retook her exams, reclaimed her top-student title, and began rebuilding the future she once dreamed of. But the night before Merrick and his first love were set to announce their engagement, Elise was forced out of Crown City and stripped of everything she had fought so hard to earn. Years later, they crossed paths again in New Harbor. She walked past him with another man’s hand in hers. That night, a Maybach stood parked beneath her apartment until dawn, while message after message lit up her phone. He wrote: “Elise, it was only ever you.” Elise had grown up with nothing, yet she never bowed to fate. She seized every chance to change her destiny with both hands. From the moment they met, Merrick was drawn to that fierce, unyielding spark—an instinct that pulled him in and a clarity that undid him. She was a cactus rising through desert sand, a wild rose he nurtured with his own hands, and the woman who had always lived at the center of his heart.

“You want soft?” Marco’s voice whispered against my ears. I tried to keep my breathing steady, but the way he leaned over me…one hand braced on the wall, made it impossible. “I’m not soft, Cassandra. I’m not the kind of man who lights candles and whispers pretty lies in bed.” He leaned in, our lips inches apart “Listen to me, dolcezza, I fuck. I dominate. I tie your hands, your legs and make you forget your own name.” I pressed my lips tightly, refusing to give him the satisfaction that only his words was messing with my head, “You don’t scare me, Marco.” His hands wrapped around my throat..not to hurt. Just enough to remind me I was his to command. “No, but I do something worse.” His lips brushed my ear. “I make you beg.” I hated him. I hated the way my pussy ached for his touch. I hated my body for betraying me for wanting him. “Say it,” he whispered. “Tell me who you belong to.” “I don’t belong to anyone.” He shoved my legs apart roughly, plunging two mighty fingers inside me, “Then why is your pussy soaked, bella? Hmm? Tell me do you want my cock or my collar?” I swallowed hard, “Both.” Marco smiled. “Then be a good girl for daddy. Kneel!” **** SEQUEL TO FORCED TO BE THE BILLIONAIRE’S SURROGATE CASSANDRA’S STORY She was sold to the ruthless mafia don to bear an her for his cold, gay son. But she finds herself caught in a dangerous web of forbidden desire. But the real danger isn’t her supposed fiancee—it’s Don Marco, her ruthless father-in-law. It begins with whispered temptations and stolen glances, then escalates into late-night visits and nights of forbidden passion.

"Oh God!" I moaned softly, the heat of Noah's breath hitting my neck as he buried his face in it. His large arms wrapped tightly around me like he was telling me I was his forever. My arms also found their way around his neck, my hand grabbing his soft blonde hair as his piercing gaze met mine. His lips moved from my neck back to my lips where it was before. His tongue conquered mine while I squirmed inside and moaned in his mouth. I could feel his hot bulge pressing against my stomach. "we shouldn't be doing this Noah" I said breaking the kiss. "Why? Cause you're my brother's wife?" he questioned me, the corner of his soft full lips curling with a smirk. He didn't wait for a reply before going back in for a kiss. This man I was making out with on the kitchen counter was my husband's brother. *** Nana thought she had it all a high-powered career, a stable marriage to her husband Simon, and a future carefully mapped out by their influential families. But behind closed doors, her perfect life unravels as Simon’s cold indifference leaves her lonely and questioning everything. When Noah, Simon’s charismatic younger half-brother, returns from overseas, he’s no longer the boy she remembers. Now, he’s all grown up and offering the understanding and attraction she’s been starved of. As Simon’s betrayals cut deeper, Noah becomes her unexpected confidant, comforting her in ways she never imagined. Yet, beneath his caring facade, Noah has his own agenda, subtly steering Nana’s broken heart closer to his own. Torn between duty and desire, Nana finds herself trapped between two brothers: one who’s betrayed her and one who promises the passion she craves.

"Alex... help… please…" I tried to whisper, but no sound came out. I saw them, Alexander had his arms wrapped around Sophia, who was clutching him like her life depended on it. She was pressed against his chest, her face buried in his neck, and she wasn't letting go. "Don't look at her," Sophia whispered loudly. "You'll only make yourself sick with guilt. This isn't your fault. She did this to herself by being dramatic." That's when I heard the scream. "Oh my God! Mrs. Sterling!" Rosa, one of our housemaids, came rushing into the dining room. "Mrs. Sterling, what happened to you?" Rosa dropped to her knees beside me, her hands fluttering over my body like she didn't know where to start. "You're bleeding! There's so much blood everywhere!” I was bleeding? I couldn't feel anything below my waist anymore, but when I managed to glance down, I saw the dark stain spreading across my dress. "Mr. Alexander!" Rosa shouted, her voice cracking with an anger I’ve never seen in her before. She looked ready to commit murder. Did I look that bad? “Your wife is dying! How can you do this to her? How can you stand there holding another woman while your wife bleeds to death on the floor?!" Rosa snarled. "Rosa, lower your voice," Alexander snapped, but I could hear something different in his tone. Uncertainty. "Take Ivy to the hospital and stop making a scene, or you'll be looking for another job." Rosa shot back, tears streaming down her face. "¡Sos un bueno para nada! What kind of man are you?" I was going to die. Right here on my dining room floor, wearing my mother's blood-stained dress while my husband comforted another woman.

NINA “My wife will ride you for her org-sm and for your come to fill her, so she can do her duty as Mrs. Sokolov.” Jeremiah’s fingers flexed around my throat. “Go on, little wh-re. Climb over him. I know you want to.”   I crawled over Lachlan, curling my fingers around his thick c-ck, and wondered — how big was Jeremiah? How long? How thick? Lachlan hissed, “Kitten, stop playing or I’ll come all over your hand.”   Jeremiah growled, “We can’t have that. All his come belongs in your c-nt, wife. So get on with it.” His lips brushed my ear. “Don’t stretch this out. I have something else that needs stretching.” Shuddering, I got to my knees. As I aligned Lachlan’s c-ck with my entrance, another hand wrapped around mine — larger, slick with oil. Jeremiah.   A moan escaped as my husband guided his lover’s c-ck to my core. I sank down slowly, the stretch burning until I took every inch. “F-ck,” Lachlan groaned. “You’re perfect around me.” “You too,” I moaned, pressed against his chest, lips tangled in a kiss.   Then, without warning, Jeremiah pushed in two fingers — into my other h-le.   I gasped as he stretched my untouched muscles. He didn’t stop. Not until I was full. Everywhere.   Lachlan groaned. “I can feel you.”   “I know,” Jeremiah said, his fingers thrusting deep. “Move.” Lachlan obeyed, lifting me until just his tip stretched me, then pushed me back down. I whimpered. My hips jerked. Lachlan cursed.   “You like that, wife?” Jeremiah’s voice rasped in my ear. “Being used by both of us?”   _ This is a twisted, dark MMF mafia romance where love is savage, hate burns deep, and survival comes at a deadly cost. Read-TW!!!! MF-MM-MFM-Dark-Twisted-Betrayal-Amnesia-Revenge-NonCon-Mafia-Humiliation-Dominated-Controlling-Ruthless-Mystery-Thriller-READ-Trigger-Warnings

On Christmas Eve, my father got the man I had secretly loved for ten years drunk and sent him to my bed. When I woke up the next morning, Roy pulled away from my attempt at a good-morning kiss. His voice was cold and distant as he agreed to marry me. After the wedding, Roy wasted no time submitting a transfer request. He took an overseas post and left. He did not return for five years. I gave birth to our daughter, Eve, alone and waited for him to come back home. When I heard that Roy had finally applied to return to a domestic position, I was overjoyed. I spent days preparing, imagining our first reunion as husband and wife. But even when the clock struck midnight, he still hadn't come home. Our daughter, ever so thoughtful, placed her most treasured possession—a photograph of Roy—into my hands. "Don't cry, Mommy," she said softly. "Look, Daddy's right here." I tried to convince myself that his absence was due to a delayed flight. But later that night, while watching the news, I saw him. He was on a crowded city street, holding a young girl in his arms. Beside him stood a woman, her smile soft and warm. Facing the camera, Roy said, "Being with them is my greatest wish." At that moment, something inside me broke. I wrote up the divorce papers, packed our things, and planned to take Eve to change her identity. I didn't want him anymore. The day before we left, a man I had never met came to see me. He was Roy's father. "You could call me Dad," he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. "But I'd rather you call me Ryan." I told him everything about the past five years—how I had waited, how I had hoped. When I finished, he laughed softly, an unusual warmth in his voice. "If it was just business," he said, "perhaps your father should have tied a bow around me and sent me to your bed instead. But I hold my liquor well—if I ever end up wrapped in a bow, you can be sure it's by choice."