Zay Flowers Crying

Elena had once believed that silence could mean safety. That a gentle hand and a warm cup of tea placed quietly on her desk every morning could be a form of love. Lucien was never cruel—not in the obvious ways. He remembered how she liked her eggs, noticed when she swapped her perfume, and sent flowers on days he knew she wouldn’t expect them. He raised her like one would raise a pet—softly, without question. And Elena, foolish in the way only the very lonely can be, mistook his quiet affection for devotion. She told herself he was reserved. Mysterious. That love didn’t always wear its heart on its sleeve. But when the old flame returned—the one who spoke his language without needing to try—Elena saw it. The difference. He looked at her like a man who had found his lost religion. And Elena? She had simply been convenient. No tears, no scene. Just papers on the breakfast table, beside the eggs he cooked perfectly. She didn’t accuse or beg. She only asked for freedom. He didn’t sign. He chuckled. A soft, dismissive sound. “A cat raised indoors doesn’t know how to survive on the street, Elena. You’ll come back." But she didn’t. She disappeared, like smoke—except she didn’t vanish, not really. She lived. She wore colour again. Laughed at bad jokes. Let strange men hand her coffee and ask for her number. Lucien? He watched. He watched her become someone without him. And it drove him mad. The night he cornered her outside the gallery, rain in his hair and desperation in his eyes, he looked like a man undone. "Elena," he breathed, "please. Look at me. Just once." She did. Calm as ever, and her love already gone.

“Give me one reason, Liv.” He stalked toward me, cornering me against the edge of the desk. “One good reason why I shouldn’t bend you over this desk and fuck you senseless.” My breath caught. “This is wrong, Damon. So wrong.” I pressed my palms flat against his chest, trying to create space. “You’re my brother-in-law…” “Not yet, love,” he whispered, fingers curling around my waist possessively. “You’re still engaged to him, but the man you’ll be getting married to…” Two fingers slipped into my heat, making me gasp. “…is me.” I should’ve walked away. I should’ve resisted. But I couldn't forget what it felt like to be his. * Olivia have the perfect life. The perfect fiancé. Marcus is everything she thought she wanted—sweet, charming, dependable. Safe. She thought she have it all figured out... Until the night of her engagement party, when she comes face-to-face with Damon—her ex. The man who had broken, damaged and left her for ruin, three years ago. The man she’s about to call brother-in-law. Now, old wounds rip open. Feelings she thought she buried, clawed their way back to the surface. And the man she once loved? He isn’t asking this time. Damon wants her back. And he’ll burn every bridge, including the one with his own brother—to make her his again. NOTE TO READERS: This is a dark, emotional, and scorching hot love story. It features a possessive anti-hero, messy family drama, emotional trauma, and morally gray decisions. If you’re looking for a soft romance with flowers and sunshine, this might not be it. But if you crave forbidden passion, flawed characters, and a love story that burns through betrayal and pains… Welcome to Olivia and Damon’s world.

A single job can make or ruin you. What will you do? Warning: 40% sex, 100% sin. This isn't sweet little love story. This is dark, filthy Mafia territory, where rules don’t exist, and neither does mercy. For mature minds only. Themes include: Ruthless dominance Dubious consent & brutal obsession Public sex, eyes watching Best friend betrayal Power games that leave you wet and wrecked If you came for flowers and happy endings, check it out. And if you're ready to get fucked against the wall by a Mafia king who’ll make you scream his name loud enough for his enemies to hear .... then sit down, keep your mouth open, and behave. Because once you enter his world, you don't walk out untouched. ***** “Here. Sign this and you can start immediately. If you have anything important at home, bring it here....I’ll provide you with everything. "Clothes, food, whatever you need,” he said, the smirk returning to his face. She reached for the file hesitantly, her eyes narrowing slightly. Something felt…off. Too quick. Too intense. Just as she was about to flip through the pages, her phone rang. Tring… Tring… She glanced at Liam. He nodded. “It’s okay.” She quickly signed the last page without reading. Inside, her instincts itched. Something didn’t sit right. But she brushed the feeling off. Maybe he was just one of those flirty, arrogant bosses. “You signed without reading it,” he said in a whisper only she could hear. “Bold.” “I trust Liam,” she replied. Vincenzo smiled, not the kind that made people feel safe. She handed the file back and turned to leave. Vincenzo stood silently, watching her go. The way her hair swayed. The curve of her waist. That innocent look in her eyes. As she disappeared around the corner.

“You’re useless.” I lift my head, wrists aching where the rope bites into skin already numb from the cold. My father stands over me, his shadow long and sharp in the firelight spilling from the clearing behind him. I can hear the celebration. My sister’s laughter. The pack chanting her name. “I tried,” I say. My voice cracks, and I hate it for that alone. “I did everything you asked.” He scoffs. “Everything?” His gaze drags over me like I’m something rotten. “If you’d done anything right, your mother would still be alive.” My chest burns, each breath a knife. “She chose—” “She died because of you,” he snaps. “Because you were too weak to protect yourself. Too weak to be worth the trouble.” I swallow, tasting blood. “I’m your daughter.” “No,” he says coldly. “You’re a reminder of my failure.” He turns away, already done with me. “Be grateful I’m hiding you instead of killing you. An Alpha can’t afford dead weight.” The rope tightens as he knots it higher, out of reach. He doesn’t look back. Behind him, the pack howls in celebration. I lower my head and let the tears fall silently into the dirt because crying is the only thing they haven’t taken from me yet. But as the night deepens and the forest breathes around me, something else stirs—slow and patient. They call me useless. One day, they’ll choke on that word.

In the Santoro family, there was one rule: the heir marries a daughter from another powerful Family. But Alessio Santoro was crazy. He wanted to marry me, a nobody from a flower shop. He knelt in the family chapel for ten days straight. He even took a bullet fired by his own father, the Don. All just to walk away from his title and run away with me. I held him, crying, begging him to stop. He just smiled and kissed my eyes, wiping my tears. "Don't cry, Thea. As long as I can marry you, it's all worth it." In the end, the Santoros relented. But they had one condition: Alessio would still produce the next heir. Just not with me. He had to have a son with Aurelia Rossi. So I endured. I endured listening to them through the wall, night after agonizing night. I endured the smell of her perfume on his skin, the sight of her marks on his neck every time he kissed me. A year later, Aurelia got pregnant. It was a girl. Alessio begged me, his eyes red. "Just a little longer, Thea." So I waited another year. Finally, news came. Aurelia was pregnant with a boy. I thought we could finally leave, finally be free. But then disaster struck. Aurelia’s daughter had a sudden, violent allergic reaction. Everyone blamed me. They threw me in the cellar and left me to die. And Alessio? He believed them. This time, I was the one who gave up. I walked away from everything.

“Unfortunately, you must die, Luna Lyara,” Alpha Kaelen whispered. It wasn't enough that I had to endure the curse to replace him, and his decision to turn his face away from me for another woman, he still betrayed me until the end. He stabbed me with his own hands and pushed me off the cliff. When I thought everything was over, time spun back and brought me back to the past, exactly three weeks after I was cursed.  This time, I won’t be the victim. I’ll free myself from the curse, reverse fate, and protect the people I love. I won’t be dragged along by the predetermined path set by that scoundrel Kaelen. I’m determined to write my own destiny with my own hands! *** “…Lyara.”  I didn’t know what he was saying. I could only catch one word, my name, which he whispered softly.  Ah, there’s still someone who cares about me like this. With trembling hands, I tried to reach his face. The sticky sensation flooding his cheeks, I knew it. He was crying. Was he crying because of me? “Don’t… cry…” I said, my words breaking off.   The pain and tingling in my throat brought back the painful cough. My right hand fell onto his chest. Unintentionally, my fingers touched the pendant necklace around his neck. A unique and beautiful sun-shaped pendant.  “Thank you,” I said with a bitter smile.

Devil’s own incarnation in sparkling designers. Zade Dalton Gomez is a man not to be trifled with, and Carla Meadows has always been aware of that, which was why she knew she was doomed the moment this man involved himself in her mess and forced her into a contract marriage with himself. Tycoon, big shot, and powerful with near-impossible connections, Zade was a conventionally attractive, highly sought after bachelor in the country. Carla, whose reputation in the country is completely ruined after going to prison in place of a man that ended up backstabbing her, has been deserted by everyone and is left to face her plight herself. She hoped for a miracle that would bring her out of this humiliating mess, and not a union with the devil himself, which is bound to leave her scorched in the end. Zade detests criminals. Zade loathed Carla. She and her ex-husband were responsible for a trauma of his, and he vowed to punish Carla while making use of her— to kill a handful of birds at once before discarding her. It’s just a contract marriage, but neither of them anticipated desire coming into play. A contract marriage born from raw hatred, a thirst for revenge, and punishment. What could go wrong? ~~~ Ex-husband showed up with divorce papers for me to sign. He thought I’d be crying, but I readily signed it with a smile. When he sighted me in the arms of his arch enemy, he instantly grew jealous and now, he wants me back. But, too bad for him, cause I’ve moved on from trash to diamonds!

"Did you really kiss the Alpha?" Gary asked me and turned to the man bathing in the darkness. "Is she the one you were telling me about?” "Yes," he coldly said and turned around, walking away. "Please," I begged, crying. "Alpha Asher, please. I'm sorry for what I did. I didn't mean to, please forgive me.” I begged, crying profusely and Gary looked at me, pity flickering in his eyes. "Please, Alpha. Let's help her. She could be useful to you one day,” he suggested and Alpha Asher stopped in his tracks. I almost shot Gary a dirty glare. What did he mean by useful? I didn't leave my pack to come here and serve another fucking Alpha! The Alpha I kissed at that! I was about to ask what he meant by useful but the pain in my leg reminded me of what was at stake. To serve him for a while and then be free, or to die and not be able to do anything again. "Useful?” Alpha Asher asked, breaking my thoughts. "Yes, yes. I'll do whatever you want. Just help me, please. I don't want to die." I begged. "Anything I want?” he asked again, smirking. ”What could this man be thinking of that's making him smirk?” I mumbled to myself, trying to distract myself from his attractive lips. ”Answer me, woman. Would you do anything I want?”

My husband had a severe addiction for physical intimacy. However, in the seven years of our marriage, he never touched me, not even once. To suppress his urges, he soaked himself in bone-chilling ice water every night. His arms were covered in needle marks from constant injections. It broke my heart to see him like that. I offered myself to him many times, but he insisted on simply giving me a restrained kiss on the forehead before saying, “Don’t be silly, Summer. I’m not like those animals. How could I ever bear to hurt you? For you, I’d gladly live the rest of my life in a platonic marriage.” This strange, almost obsessive restraint of his lasted seven years. Despite the numerous times he pushed himself far enough to end up hospitalized, he still refused to cross that line. Then, on our wedding anniversary, a young woman named Anna Brandt came in for her ninth hymen restoration surgery. After the anesthetic was administered, her cheeks flushed red. As her mind grew hazy, she started crying weakly like a lost kitten. Looking at the love bites scattered across her body, I shook my head and assumed she was just another girl who had gone astray. That was until I heard her last tearful whisper. “John Shaw, you jerk.” My hand trembled and I nearly dropped the scalpel. Because my husband’s name also was John Shaw.

I had been on a business trip overseas for less than six months when I suddenly received a call from the hospital. "Mr. Jones, your wife is having a difficult labor. Should we proceed with a C-section or try to continue with a natural delivery?" The words hit me like a bolt of lightning. I stood there, frozen. When I left, my wife had not shown any sign of pregnancy. How could she be giving birth less than six months later? I quickly dialed her number. The moment the call connected, I heard her cries of pain. "Honey, what's wrong?" From the other end of the line, I could hear a nurse urging her to push harder. However, my wife forced her voice to sound calm. "Sweetheart, I just slipped and fell a moment ago. It's nothing serious. You should keep focusing on your business trip. Don't worry about me." As I listened, the faint sound of a baby crying filtered through the phone. My grip tightened so hard around the phone that it nearly cracked. "Is that so? Then, get some rest," I said calmly. After hanging up, I immediately called my father, the richest man in the country. "Dad, Rebecca's cheating on me. She's in the delivery room right now, having another man's child. Stop all investments in the Harris family immediately. I want her thrown out with nothing to her name."