Yuji Final Black Flash Novels & Stories

21-year-old Larisa Bronc; an unsuccessful reporter who couldn’t write a good story to save her life received a tip from an anonymous person. It was a tip that could lure any reporter in, and sadly, it had lured her. But little did she know, it was a trap, and she had fallen right into it. She had messed with the wrong person and now she was being blackmailed; her virginity or her life…? And that night, the one that she lost wasn’t her life. WARNING: This is a dark romance book, read at your own risk! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

"Marley!" He jerked off of his seat, "I forbid you from uttering that name henceforth. I can't believe this!" he grabbed his hair tightly.  "Mar-" "Don't!" he cut her off before flinging the piece of paper toward her which only flew a little distance from him to the carpeted floor.  "Nine weeks?" ****** The night; Liza, a nineteen years old stripper, Sacrifices her school to sponsor her sisters to college, Pays the bills, and wins bread. Things get worse when dean fires her after discovering she bares a customer's offspring. Wealth; Marley Woods, twenty-three with enough to be called a billionaire is the CEO of a known automotive manufacturing company.But a night's misbehavior engulfs him into a brain wrecking dilemma. Love and disaster; Zaphrina and Marley started on a rocky path with the help of his perspective on women. Sparks begin to build up between these two immiscible humans as Zaphrina becomes her worst nightmare's employee and fate being the perfect ribbon-wrapped gift it is, both find themselves in a situation neither can do without the other. Liza shows up just in time to ruin the smooth union with the help of someone who seeks Marley's grief more than she seeks his happiness.

If it was my sister being bullied, Mom and Dad would have believed her right away and fought for her without a second thought. However, it did not matter anymore. In my next life, I would pick parents who really cared about me.

Soren Blackwell is irresistible. Untouchable. Lyra knows she shouldn’t want him. He’s her best friend’s father but every glance, every word, every brush of his hand drags her closer… closer to temptation, closer to a storm she’s not sure she can survive. Caught between desire and reason, Lyra must choose: fight the pull of a man she can’t have, or surrender to the passion that promises both pleasure and peril.

Ivy Sinclair never expected her father's last desperate move to be selling her off like a pawn—to the coldest billionaire in Manhattan. Lucien Blackwood doesn't believe in love. But he believes in power, and marrying Ivy gives him just that—until the fire in her eyes threatens to melt the ice around his heart. Their vows are signed in ink and built on lies. She’s determined to protect her soul. He’s hiding demons that could destroy them both. But what starts as a calculated business arrangement spirals into a dangerous obsession. Secrets bleed. Betrayals burn. And when the past comes back with blood on its hands, their fragile union may be the only thing standing between survival and ruin. He owns her name. She could own his heart. But only if they don’t destroy each other first. In this house of fortune, love is the most dangerous currency.

“Who the hell changed the screw tolerance by 0.007 mm?” “I did. Is there a problem?” Kimmy Zabel, our department’s “good-luck charm” and full-time slacktivist, did not even look up from her compact mirror, where she was carefully applying lip gloss. “It just didn’t look right, so I tweaked it. Do you really have to yell at me?” The production line had been running on the wrong spec for twenty-four hours. I hit the emergency stop. Keeping my voice steady took some effort. “These parts no longer meet export standards. If we miss tomorrow’s shipment, even a month of overtime wouldn’t cover the penalties.” “It’s one tiny number. You’re being so dramatic!” Kimmy snapped her makeup case shut. “Anyway, it’s New Year’s Eve. I’ve got a date. I’m not staying here to suffer with you people.” Before she even reached the door, I gestured to the staff to pull the shutters down. “For precision components like these, one number translates into a million-dollar loss. You can take these defective units and explain them to the regulators.”

When Adriano Morelli realized I hadn’t submitted a single household request in three days, he called me himself for the first time in months. “Serafina,” he said, his voice smooth and patient, “the clinic has been cleared. Your file is back on priority. See? When you stop making things difficult and learn how this family works, I make sure you’re taken care of.” He always sounded the gentlest when he was reminding me who held the power. What he didn’t know was that by the time his name lit up my screen, the divorce papers were already drafted. From the outside, I had everything a woman could want: a guarded penthouse, a driver on call, designer clothes, and the last name of one of the most feared men in the city. But almost none of it was mine. The cards were monitored. Cash had to be approved. Staff took Viviana Costa’s orders before they ever listened to me. Even the wardrobe budget, my schedule, and access to the family office all ran through her hands. Adriano called it convenience. Three days ago, I was rushed into a private clinic, blood soaking through my dress, while a doctor told me there was still a chance to save the baby if the emergency deposit was paid immediately. I called Adriano until my hands shook. Viviana stalled the transfer. First there was no direct authorization. Then the amount was too large. Then Adriano was in a meeting and could not be disturbed over something that might not be serious. By the time the money came through, it was too late. The baby was gone. I had stayed with Adriano for two reasons: I loved him, and I believed that when it truly mattered, he would choose me. I was wrong about both. Our child died first. My marriage died with it.

“We can’t.” I moaned into his mouth, my body response the opposite of my words. “I know.” Levi’s hands were already under my skirt, fingers tracing higher. “Nate’s right down the hall.” Even as I said it, I was arching into his touch. “Then you better stay quiet.” His mouth found that spot below my ear that made me gasp. “Can you do that for me?” I bit my lip. Shook my head. We both knew I was a screamer. He smiled against my skin. “Good girl.” I married the scariest man in New York three months ago. Nate Shen. Alpha heir to a werewolf crime empire. Cold as winter, brutal as hell, and he took me as his wife to settle my father’s debts. Our arrangement is simple: I give him an heir, he gives me a prison made of silk and threats. Problem is, I already slept with his brother. Levi was supposed to be a one-night thing. Some gorgeous stranger who made me forget my life was falling apart. I didn’t know he was Nate’s younger brother until I saw him standing at our wedding ceremony. Now Levi sneaks into my room when Nate’s working late. Nate’s getting possessive in ways that make my breath catch, his grip unforgiving as he f*cks me into our bed. And I’m losing my mind because I can’t stop thinking about both of them. Pack law says sleeping with your husband’s brother gets you killed. Slowly. So why can’t I stop? Turns out I’m greedier than I thought. Is it a crime to love both brothers?

She was born a bastard. They poured wine on her, laughed at her mother’s grave, and thought she’d stay broken. They were wrong. Ava Rosier took their scorn, their money, and their men, one ruthless billionaire, one mafia emperor, and one forbidden brother who shares her blood. Now the illegitimate daughter sits on the throne they built, crown forged from their tears, rose petals dipped in their blood. Three psychopaths kneel at her feet, obsessed, ruined, and willing to burn the world for her smile. She never chose between them. She chose everything. This is the rise of the Blackened Queen. And no one escapes her empire alive.

For 1,095 days, Maya Vance was a ghost. She cooked three-star meals for a man who didn't know her favorite color and kept his failing shipping empire afloat with anonymous billions. She was the "Safe Choice." The "Placeholder." On their anniversary, Lucian Blackwood brought home his "White Moonlight," Cynthia Thorne. With a cold flick of a pen, he handed Maya a divorce decree. "She’s back. I don't need a substitute maid anymore. Get out." Maya didn't cry. She smiled—a smile that should have terrified him. Within twenty-four hours, the Blackwood name is erased from the stock exchange. The mysterious "Phoenix," the world’s youngest tech trillionaire, emerges from the of shadows to dismantle Lucian’s life piece by piece. When Lucian finally tracks down the woman ruining him, he doesn't find his "homely" ex-wife. He finds an Empress on a throne of his broken dreams. Now, he’s on his knees in the rain, begging for a second chance. But Maya Vance doesn't give second chances. She only gives invoices.