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The Reaver Chronicles: Raphael (Book 2)

The Reaver Chronicles: Raphael (Book 2)

Vampires, I'd never seen one up close before. That is, until one tried to kill me. But he saved me, the Reaver Raphael. I know I'm only Human, but the more I learn of him, the more intrigued I become. He scares me, much more than I'd ever admit. My instincts scream at me to run. I know he's one of the four brothers who control the Underworld. I know he kills people without warning or trigger. I know the other Supernaturals fear him, and I know what he says goes… period. Yet, I find myself drawn to him, my fear tempered by a morbid curiosity. Being around someone as powerful as Raphael is daunting, yet every time I'm near him, I feel a swarm of butterflies in my stomach. But I'm aware of the danger. I've studied the Reavers, and I know their charm is designed to lure you in. Raphael doesn't even have to try… he exudes an effortless allure that draws me, and everyone else, to him. I know I should run, I want to run. But I'm frozen in place, and the warning signs only seem to heighten the allure. I've danced with danger for too long, but playing with fire has never felt so satisfying. That was, until I woke up in a strange place, surrounded by an unsettling array of supernatural creatures. Reality hit me like a slap in the face. And it's in this moment that I regret ever pursuing the man in the silver suit, who meets me in the diner... I've read enough love stories to know that love could be a fatal flaw, or a mans greatest strength. Could I be his? Or would our love become a fatal collision course from which neither of us would escape?
Fantasy
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When the Mafia's Hacker Wife Strikes

When the Mafia's Hacker Wife Strikes

Even the street punks knew that in Chicago, Catherine Leone was untouchable. I had three deadly protectors watching my back. My husband, Raphael Falcone, was the youngest underboss in the Chicago Outfit. He was known for his cold, iron-fisted rule, yet in a crowded room, he would kneel to adjust the hem of my gown. My childhood friend, Luca Vizzini, the family's brilliant new consigliere. He'd sworn to protect me since we were kids. And my twin brother, Salvatore Leone, who cherished me above all else. He took over the family at eighteen and treated me like royalty, making me the most envied Principessa in the underworld. On my twenty-eighth birthday, I waited in the living room all day, clutching a pregnancy test with two solid lines, ready to share the news that would change everything. Instead, they brought me my brother's body, murdered by a drug dealer hailed as a hero. And standing before me was my husband, Raphael Falcone, ready to clear the murderer's name. "Tell me why," A scream clawed at my throat, but I fought it down, "You know damn well who the murderer is." "Catherine, control yourself." It was Luca Vizzini, my childhood friend, who tied my hands. "Salvatore's gone, but you still have us. You're still Mrs. Falcone, still the Principessa of the Leone family." "The Leones have looked after Chiara for years. You know her father is all she has." They wanted me to confess to my brother’s fabricated crimes and apologize to Chiara. But they forget. Before I was Raphael's wife, I was Catherine Leone. A master hacker who could breach any system. I will deliver my own justice in ways they cannot imagine. And I will make them regret it.
Short Story · Mafia
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He Froze Me Out, so I Made His Legacy Burn

He Froze Me Out, so I Made His Legacy Burn

As the quality control supervisor of an import company, I need to finish up the storage of the final batch of king crabs before the Independence Day festivities. Just after entering the subzero freezer, the door is immediately locked shut. The alarm system also fails. When I realize I'm starting to lose body heat, I immediately take out the hand warmers from the emergency kit. However, the moment I apply them, a chilling sensation makes me instantly realize something is wrong. I scream from the cold, and the walkie-talkie transmits the boisterous laughter of my fiance, Martin Clay. "We're live-streaming and challenging the company's 'Ice Queen' to be locked in the freezer. Let's see how long she lasts!" The flirty voice of his female colleague, Lilian Saunders, also comes through, "Sierra, smile for the folks in the live stream! The number one donor wants to see it!" I instantly understand that they're live-streaming a prank on me. Not only did they lock me in the freezer, but they've also replaced my life-saving hand warmers with cooling patches meant for fevers! I grit my teeth, trying hard to stay calm as I call out to them for help. "The spare… spare hand warmers… Give them to me!" My fiance's voice rings out from the walkie-talkie, sounding unconcerned, "Oops! Lily gets cold easily, and it's her time of the month. The spares are all being used to keep her belly warm! "You're so healthy that you can just jump around a little and you'll warm up! You might even get some tips from the number one donor!" I stop arguing with them. With frozen hands, I pull out the signal flare gun and aim it at the most valuable and mysterious cargo in the freezer—a tube of frozen sperm worth 200 million dollars.
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His Possession

His Possession

I kept on running with Kay as we manoeuvred our way through the messy crowd. Kay pulled me through and we finally got out of the club. We couldn't take the main entrance because Yoshim's men were there. We were running through the dark alley, panting and gasping for air. Relief washed over me when I realised that I finally left that hell hole. We kept on running when I heard a gunshot. I immediately halted and felt a warm liquid trickling down my arm. I looked around and saw no wound, I glanced at Kay and my eyes widened. I immediately brought my hand to my mouth trying to suppress the scream that wanted to come out. Kay held his arm as he bled profusely, he groaned in pain and fell on his knees. “Oh my God, Kay are you alright? Ugh, what am I going to do.” I said while hyperventilating. I heard footsteps and looked up only to be met by those same devilish eyes. He wore a grin on his face. And to his left was Gail who clung to him like a barnacle. How did he even know I escaped? “Haha, I overheard your little conversation with the guard, so I told Yoshim.” She smiled while talking. “Gail, what the is wrong with you?” I said with anger and tears in my eyes. She shrugged her shoulders and her mouth curved into a smile. I pressed my hand on Kay's wound to stop the bleeding, he groaned in pain and I couldn't stop my tears. “I should've gotten rid of you a long time ago.” Yoshim said while pointing a gun to my head. I closed my eyes and waited for him to pull the trigger.
Mafia
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The Ceo’s Unwanted Claim

The Ceo’s Unwanted Claim

"You are trembling," Dante whispered, his hand sliding up my thigh, hidden beneath the white tablecloth of the crowded gala. "Please," I begged, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. "Please what?" He leaned in, his teeth grazing my ear, his grip on my leg tightening to a bruise. "Please stop? Or please... take me?" He dragged his thumb over my skin, ruining me in front of everyone, his eyes dark with a terrifying promise. "You belong to me, Evelina. And tonight... I’m going to make sure you scream it. *** Three million dollars. That was the price of my sister’s life. To save her, I sold myself to Dante Valenti. He is the king of Wall Street, a monster in a tailored suit who deals in acquisitions and ruin. He didn't just want my skills as a curator; he wanted me. My time, my freedom, and my absolute submission for five years. I thought I could withstand him. I thought I could keep my heart safe behind walls of hatred. But Dante doesn't just break walls; he burns them down. He strips away my defenses layer by layer, forcing me to play his dark, twisted games. He isolates me, controls me, and manipulates my reality until I don't know where the cage ends and I begin. He treats me like a prized artifact—something to be displayed, guarded, and owned. But as the lines between hatred and desire blur, I realize the terrifying truth: He doesn't just want to own my body. He wants to break my soul until I thank him for the chains.
Romance
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Hidden Omega At Alpha Academy

Hidden Omega At Alpha Academy

As a male Omega, stepping onto the ice was never supposed to be my dream. Hockey belonged to Alphas—strong, dominant, born to conquer both the rink and everyone on it. Omegas like me were meant to stay hidden, protected, controlled. But hiding had never been enough. The World Hockey Academy was the only place powerful enough to shield my identity, the only place my adoptive father—its Dean—believed I could survive. To the public, it was an elite sports academy. To those like me, it was a prison disguised as opportunity. To them… it was Alpha Academy. From the moment I arrived, I swallowed suppressants like oxygen. Every breath had to be measured. Every movement controlled. A single slip—one flare of Omega scent—and I would be exposed. I had to skate like an Alpha. Fight like an Alpha. Bleed like one. On the ice, weakness wasn’t forgiven. That was when I noticed him. The strongest Alpha in the academy. The storm everyone feared. His presence alone made my knees weaken, my instincts scream in panic and hunger all at once. His golden eyes tracked me every time I touched the puck, sharp and suspicious, as if he already sensed something was wrong. During practice, we crashed into each other. The impact sent us both sprawling across the ice—but it was his hand gripping my jersey, his scent crashing over me, that shattered my control. My suppressants burned uselessly in my veins. His lips curved slowly, dangerously, as he leaned close enough for his breath to brush my ear. “Funny,” he murmured, voice low and certain. “For an Alpha… you smell like prey.” My heart slammed against my ribs. If he figured it out, everything would end. And yet— my Omega instincts whispered something far worse. I wanted him closer.
LGBTQ+
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Forced To be Mrs. Billionaire

Forced To be Mrs. Billionaire

“Where have you been, Cosette Blanche Warren?” he whispered darkly. My throat went dry. I could feel his hands roaming down my thighs, his touch possessive. “Someone saw my wife with Franklyn Carrington today,” Yohan continued, his voice deceptively sweet. “Tell me, Mrs. Warren… is that true?” A chill ran through me. His tone wasn’t affectionate—it was laced with something far more dangerous. “Open your eyes.” I jolted at his sudden command and immediately obeyed. My body trembled under the weight of his stare. His fingers curled under my chin, tilting my face closer. Slowly, agonizingly, he licked the corner of my lips before whispering against them. “What did I tell you before, wife?” Tears welled up as I struggled to form words. “I-I’m not allowed to meet…other men,” I stammered. “Hmmm.” His fingers traced lazy circles on my waist before pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Then explain what happened earlier.” “Franklyn is just a friend, Yohan. I-I wasn’t doing anything wro—” “Liar!” he roared. I flinched as tears spilled down my cheeks. A scream tore from my throat when Yohan suddenly lifted me, throwing me onto the bed. My eyes widened in terror as he hovered over me, his expression twisted with something unrecognizable. “No one else can come near you, touch you, or even look at you because you belong to me alone, Cosette Blanche Warren!” His voice was a venomous snarl. “You will never escape me! You will never be happy! Because I won’t allow it!” Then, he laughed. A dark, menacing sound that sent a shiver down my spine. Tears streamed down my face as I squeezed my eyes shut. This was my life now.
Romance
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Forced By The Mafia King

Forced By The Mafia King

He slid a paper across the table, his eyes cold. " Sign it." She blinked, confused. "Why?" "It’s our marriage certificate." He spoke as if discussing the weather. "I’ve already signed it. Your turn." Siya froze. **Marriage?** To a man like him? Her? A whore. Pregnant. She looked up at him, pleading. "I-I can be your maid. Do anything. Just… don’t hurt my baby." Her voice trembled, careful, trying to bargain with the devil himself. But Abhimanyu’s gaze was relentless, unmoved. His tone cut like ice. "I want you to sign it right now." Her heart hammered in her chest. "But… how… why me?" She stuttered, breaking. "I don’t want to marry you." She stood, defiance shaking her body. The word **marriage** tasted like ash, reminding her of someone she loathed beyond reason. Abhimanyu leaned in, his smile devoid of warmth. "You **will** marry me. Or…" The room fell silent, thick with the unspoken threat. **The world knows** what he is capable of. "Plea.se," she whispered. Her voice was barely a breath. Siya’s legs screamed to run. But there was nowhere to go. His voice low, lethal. "Listen to me, TweetyBird. If I can save you, I can ruin you too.' His eyes darkened. "Sign it. And you’ll be mine." "Why me?" Her voice broke. ************ Siya laid on the bed on her fours, her hands tied together with a handcuff as Abhimanyu thrusted slowly from her back. He changed their position making her completely under his mercy. As the sun rose in the sky, he uncuffed her. "Scream my name!" He groaned going faster than before. But his pace didn’t slacken at all. He had turned into a needy beast, who was ruining every ounce of sanity left in Siya. *********** ***********
Mafia
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Pleasure Under His Command

Pleasure Under His Command

🔥🔥Warning – 18+ Only This story is full of raw passion, steamy romance, and tantalizing tension. By turning these pages, you confirm you are 18 or older and ready to be seduced by a world of pleasure, desire, and temptation. Read responsibly… welcome to an erotic world. He touched her in ways she didn’t understand but craved. Every movement, every kiss, every whisper made her shiver. His hands slid down her gown and tore off her panties. Spreading her legs as his face went straight to her pussy like he was starving. And goodness, that was just the beginning His tongue hit her like a rocket She screamed like a slut… She never knew she could scream like that. She had never been with anyone like him. She didn’t know what she was doing… but somehow, that didn’t matter. He took control, and she allowed him to. His tongue didn't just lick, it devoured her pussy, slowly and deep. Like he was memorizing every part of her body. “Fuck..” She cried her nails dug deep into the leather seat of the car, her legs shaking as he spread them wider shoving his two fingers into her without hesitation. After a brutal breakup that left her questioning her worth, Isabella Hart swore she’d never let another man make her feel small again. Her ex’s final words still echoed in her head... that she couldn’t satisfy him, that she didn’t even know what real pleasure was. So when a night out to forget turns into something wild, reckless, and unforgettable, Izzy doesn’t think... she just feels. One stranger. One night. One taste of what it means to lose control. He was dominant, commanding, intoxicating… and she never even got his name.
Romance
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Owned by the Mafia Boss

Owned by the Mafia Boss

I stepped closer. Close enough to smell his cologne—cedarwood, leather, and power. My hand moved. Smooth, practiced. The pistol slide from under the apron into my palm. I raised it fast. But before I could pull the trigger— BANG. Not my shot. A scream tore through the restaurant as another man launched himself toward Romano’s table, blade flashing. Another assassin. What the hell— Romano didn’t flinch. He shoved the table forward, knocking the attacker off balance. The blade scraped across wood, not skin. I ducked instinctively as the room erupted into chaos. Gunfire cracked. Glass exploded. People screamed and dove for cover. “Get him out—NOW!” one of the guards barked. I aimed for the second attacker. Didn’t even hesitate. One shot—head. Gone. The guard saw me. Confusion flashed in his eyes. Then rage. I ran. I weaved between overturned chairs, plates, and screaming bodies. The smell of blood was real now, thick in the air. One of the guards grabbed me. I slammed my elbow into his ribs, twisted, and brought the butt of my gun down on his skull. He dropped like a sack of bricks. Out. I had to get out. My boots pounded the floor as I tore through the narrow hallway. But then— “Elisa.” His voice stopped me cold. I turned. Antonio Romano stood in the middle of the carnage, suit untouched, blood spattered behind him like art. His eyes were on me. And he was smiling. It was darker. Slower. Like a hunter seeing something worth chasing. Somehow, he knew who I was. “Interesting,” he said softly, tilting his head. “They sent you.” I didn’t answer. I ran. But that voice followed me. He knew my name. And he let me go. This wasn’t over. It had just begun.
Mafia
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