ของต้องห้ามnoneoflove-gun

Sienna Calder swore she’d never touch her father’s world—Dorian Ashford, shipping mogul and billionaire king, left her mom to rot while he built his empire. She’s there to curse his grave when he dies, not to claim a dime. But his will traps her, naming her co-heir to his $50 billion legacy alongside Roman Valtieri, the brooding, hard-edged protégé who’s clawed his way into Dorian’s shadow—and now into hers. They’re to run the empire together or lose it all, and Sienna hates him for it: too slick, too close, every look a spark she doesn’t want. Then a letter from Dorian’s cold hand ignites the fire—he was murdered, and Roman’s name’s scratched beside the truth. A silver key and a vial of blood—hers, his—drag her deeper, promising answers locked in Ashford estate.But the walls crash in fast: Ezra Locke, a scarred snake with a grin like a blade, wants that key, and he’ll drown the place to get it. Roman’s her lifeline—gun drawn, hands steady, pulling her from the flood—and she loathes how his touch burns, how his voice steadies her when the water’s at her throat. Caught between rage and a pull she can’t name, Sienna fights the heat growing with every near miss—Roman’s too damn solid, too damn close, and she’s torn between shoving him away and pulling him in. The empire’s crumbling, the cliff’s falling, and Ezra’s not the only shadow circling—something darker watches, waiting. Love’s a gamble when blood’s the stake, and Sienna’s playing with a deck her father rigged. Can she trust Roman’s hands to hold her up, or will the crown they’re fighting for crush them both in its ashes?

Two souls, forged in suffering, would collide in a dance of darkness and desire, testing the limits of love and redemption. Their paths meet when Asher's sister becomes the target of a predator, and Kaidën sees an opportunity for justice. As they navigate their dark worlds, they must confront the demons that haunt them. Will Asher's desire for protection and Kaidën's quest for vengeance spark a twisted romance, or will their shattered reflections destroy them? *** “You killed my mother.” Asher's voice trembled with fury. Kaidën's smile was cold, almost mirthful. “Who gave your sister to her husband who sold her to pay off his debts.” “I watched you murder her in cold blood!” Asher’s fists clenched around the gun he held pointed at the killer, memories of that night flooding back. Kaidën leaned closer, a sinister smile creeping onto his face. "I remember begging you to look away. But you didn’t. Did you enjoy it, Asher? Watching the woman who shattered your world writhe in agony? Or would you prefer to keep that little secret buried deep? Ah, but don’t answer that. Come, help me gather the pieces of your father's remains. It’s time to tidy up this little mess." Asher’s eyes widened in horror, realization crashing over him like a wave. All this time, he had been unaware that he was not only a witness to his father’s murder, but had watched it unfold until the very end, just like he had done that night when he watched his mother’s murder. Nodding, he picked up the severed hand of his father—the same hand that had beaten and broken him until his skin grew numb to pain. ‘Oh, sweet Emily, if only you could see our father now. How the mighty have fallen.’

Seven years ago, it was love at first sight when I met Lucas Yates, who was still a nameless thug at the time. For him, I chose to leave my wealthy family. After seven years of dating, he throws me a grand wedding the day he finally becomes the head of Devil's Advocate, a mafia organization. On the day of our wedding, his childhood friend, Yelena Jackman, crashes the venue. She confesses her love for Lucas, but he rejects her without any hesitation, vowing he will only ever love me in this life. Just as we're exchanging rings, Lucas' enemies show up to cause trouble. When he sees the gun pointing at me, he lunges forward to protect me without a second thought. Yelena, who should have run, takes three bullets while protecting Lucas and falls into a coma due to severe blood loss. Overwhelmed by guilt, Lucas sends her to the best hospital in the world. I have the same blood type as Yelena, so in the attempt to save her life, I donate so much blood that I go into shock. Guilt leaves me with sleepless nights. Every day, I pray she'll wake up. I'm even willing to look after her for the rest of my life if I have to. Lucas keeps comforting me, saying that I don't need to feel so guilty, as Yelena did all of it of her own volition. He says he'll take up the responsibility of making it up to her. I'm extremely grateful to Yelena for saving Lucas and allowing me to have such a wonderful husband. However, on the day of our third wedding anniversary, I receive a mysterious message. "Lucille, you shameless homewrecker! I'm his lawfully wedded wife! If you know what's good for you, you'd better scram and go as far away as you can. If you don't believe me, you can always head to City Hall to see just who is registered as Lucas' lawful wife!"

His voice dropped lower. “You saw the news, didn’t you? The little warning on the LED TV?” Her eyes flickered. “…Yes, sir.” “Then why didn’t you turn back?” Her mouth opened, but no words came out. “And you saw they’ve never shown my face on the news.” He tapped his temple, eyes glinting. “But now you’re staring right at me. You know exactly what I look like. You think I’ll let you walk away?” “No! Please!” Isabella’s voice cracked, tears falling. “I promise with my mother’s grave—I’ll never speak of this! Please, just spare me!” Alessandro smirked, lifting his gun. “People like you swear. People like you also betray. Let’s see…” Her whole body locked. “No, no, please—” The gun fired. Isabella screamed. But when she opened her eyes, the bullet hole smoked in the wooden floor beside her. Her chest heaved. Her hands shook. She collapsed onto the ground, sobbing. Alessandro leaned back, laughing softly. Then—something in her snapped. She pushed herself up on trembling legs. “You want to kill me? Then fucking do it!” His brows lifted. “What the fuck is wrong with you gangsters?” she yelled, her voice shaking. “Do I look like someone who can hurt you? You almost made me wet my pants out there with your bullets. Do you think that’s funny?” One of his men growled, stepping forward, hand raised. “How dare you talk to the boss like that—” “Stop,” Alessandro ordered sharply, raising his hand without taking his eyes off her. Isabella’s chest heaved. “You think taking lives is funny?” She beat her chest with her fist. “Fine. I’m going to walk out that door right now. Shoot me if you want.”

I had spent my whole life living in the shadow of my sister, Juliana, the woman everyone in the mafia's heir circle adored and protected. She had no idea that I had been reborn. Just like in my previous life, she smiled sweetly and gently, insisting that I pick my fiancé first, pretending to be thoughtful and gracious. However, this time, I refused. In my previous life, I naïvely believed she meant well. I married the man she recommended, Chester Kane, an heir who was said to have been paralyzed after an ambush. I gave up my right to inherit the family, becoming his caretaker, his crutch, the medicine he used to fight loneliness. However, no matter how much warmth I gave him, his heart remained frozen. The truth only came out during my sister's pregnancy celebration. When an assassin from a rival family raised his gun toward her belly, the man who had not stood in years suddenly rose to his feet. He shoved me toward the muzzle of the gun. All seven bullets tore into my womb. As I collapsed, I saw him pull my sister into his arms, shielding her with his own body and taking the final shot for her. Only then did I understand. He had never been paralyzed. His family had never abandoned him. He pretended to be sick because Juliana's heart belonged to another man, and he refused to be tied to me. "I'm sorry, Tania," he said. "I lied to you. However, I couldn't let Juliana lose the heir she's carrying. I'll repay what I owe you in our next life." When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my father asked us to choose our marriage partners. This time, I chose no one. Yet back then, they were the ones who begged for my love.

Bah voilà jme présente ! Moi, c'est Zaïna, orpheline, j'ai 15 ans, je suis Comorienne mais avant tous Musulmane. Malheureusement je ne sais pas pratiquer. J'y connais rien. On ne m'a jamais apprise. On m'a poser à mes 1 ans apparemment. Bref ma vie jvous la racontera après. Bref physiquement ? Jfais 1m60, un truck comme ça ! J'ai une couleur de peau matte. J'ai un corps normal et les formes la où il faut. J'ai les yeux marron claiiiir qui vire au marron foncé quand jsuis énervé. Les cheveux noir/marron, tous est en fonction du soleil. A l'ombre tu les verras noir et au soleil tu les verras marron. Bref ils sont long et y'a beaucoup de volume ! Mais personne sais. C'est chignon ou natte, jamais je les montre. Bref assez parler dmon physique. Jsuis une meuf genre qui parl pas, qui calcule personne mais quand il faut j'ai une grosse bouche et sa peut aller loin en deux quatre six. Dans cette orphelinat, jparle à dégun depuis le drame (A suivre...). On m'appelle même la "muette". Ok leur délire mais m'en bas les couilles je leur répond pas. J'ai un coeur en pierre, double portes blindé, double serrure et trois codes. Rien ne m'atteint à part mon passer mais personne la connait. Bref mes journées se passe comme ça: Réveille => école => boxe => chambre et je bouge plus de la journée. Ah oui oui depuis cette incident j'ai décidé de plus me laisser faire. Mes parents ? Même vu pas jparle. Ils m'ont abandonné dès ma naissance tsssss et voilà ou je suis maintenant DANS UN ORPHELINAT DE MERDE . A suivre...

When I was 18 years old, Luigi Conti, the craziest heir of the Conti family, pulled out a gun at an auction and executed the Don of the Serra family. That man happened to be my foster father, also the one who had me auctioned away as though I were a slave. When he was being dragged toward the armored car by the military police, he kept laughing like mad despite having blood streaking down his face. "Why must I atone for my sins? Since God refuses to save you, let me be your savior! From now on, no one in Sandalay has the guts to clip your wings anymore, my darling Isabella!" Seven years later, Luigi gets released from prison. He looks at me as I wash dishes for a living in the slums before snuffing out the cigar trapped between his fingers. That night, Luigi returns to his family and steals the position of the Don. After we get married, I'm the only person who has the highest access over the vaults under the Conti family. Luigi even forcibly expands the ring that signifies ultimate authority—which has been passed down from generation to generation for a century—and slides it onto my ring finger. He buys half of Sandalay's estates just so he can fill the vineyards with the white grapes I've mentioned in passing. He tells me that his turf is called Isabella. But everything changes when I discover a photo album stashed in a hidden compartment in Luigi's study. All 2,000 photos feature a young woman in a white dress who is reading in the library. That is the female assassin he's planning on training. The woman looks very pure and innocent. She's most suited to conquer certain bigwigs' hearts. But now, it seems that Luigi's the one being conquered by her. When Luigi finds out about my discovery, he throws the photo album into the fireplace and watches it burn in the fire with a stony expression. "I'm just repackaging her so that she can aid me in money laundering. Just pretend you never saw the photo album." I push the signed divorce agreement over to Luigi. "I said, sign the agreement." Frustrated, Luigi pins the divorce agreement on the table with a knife, his expression insanely dark. "Isabella Serra, have you forgotten about the Conti family's rules? There's no such thing as divorce. We can only be widowed."