Alive

“Answer me honestly Serena. Did he kiss you?" Arsenio asked Serena. He had backed her against the wall, making her lose her one chance at escaping him. His body was tense and every nerve in him was on end as he awaited her response. “What is it to you Arsenio?! He might be a bad person but at least he knows what he wants and he sure as hell goes for it. You kiss me one moment and the next you tell me it's a mistake. You tell me how badly you want me and try to chase anyone who shows the least interest in me and yet you keep me at arm's freaking length. Enough Arsenio. I will do what I want to do…how I want to do it and with whom I choose. Hell, I'll even spread my legs wide open for Gerald if it would mean…” Arsenio had heard enough and he quickly turned her to face the wall. He held her both hands with one of his above her head before he pressed his body so close to hers. “You have been naughty, Bellisomo. Teased me to no end and made me go crazy countlessly. Now let's find out if your body agrees with your words “ Arsenio said and his fingers went missing under the short blue gown she had worn to test Gerald Mason. ******************** Arsenio Vladmiro - son to Massimo Vladmiro and Amelia Vladmiro finds out about his forbidden feelings for the one person he should not think of in that manner - Serena Toralba. She is the daughter to their family’s Consigliere and their parents raised the both of them in the same mansion together. He struggles between going for the girl he has always seen as a younger sister till seven years ago or letting her go. He had his pretty share of women in the world but the one woman he shouldn't want is the one his heart thrums for.

“I’m sorry but I can't continue this. We have both gotten what we intended from fooling the world that we were actually a couple. It's time to go our separate ways Jarek… like we said we would, “ Olivia said, hoping the tone of her voice would not betray her and convey her true need…her true desire. “Too late Liv.” Jarek said stunning Olivia. “As a Stark, it’s my duty to uphold the rules of any binding and keep to my end of the bargain but with you… With you, I plan on breaking every rule out there that exists as long as I keep on being yours. I can not bear to see you with another. It will kill me…” Jarek replied and the last clause came out as a whisper as he tilted her chin up to face him properly. “I could go raving mad Miss Forte. Stay with me!” His last words had stolen the other words she had rehearsed earlier, it had snatched the willpower Olivia thought she had perfectly. “Kiss me Mr Stark. My name is Olivia and it feels pleasant to meet you, “ Olivia said as she ran her hands from his chest to his shoulders. He did not have time to react to her sub - introduction before he clasped his lips on hers. She hummed a moan at the familiarity of his lips that she had thought she would never get to experience again and she earned a groan from him as the ‘supposed’ reuniting kiss, intended to be soft and alluring graduated to something ferocious. Hands finding buttons, fingers sinking in hair… ********************* Jarek Stark, the only son to the Stark Empire, was a mystery to the media. They know he exists but no one could tell who exactly he is. He worked as a lawyer in a law firm and got intrigued by a particular woman who wasn't fascinated by any of his charms. Her name, Olivia Forte. A woman with a strong sense of justice for others than herself. She is unaware that in the shadows she has a fan -a stalker - who uses his spare time to keep tabs on her. He makes no advances towards her because he was aware of the love she had for her boyfriend. That was until he cheated on Olivia. Seeing an opportunity to get close to her, he latches on it. Would Olivia still desire to be with Jarek when he becomes her boss and reveals his true identity to her and others? Would their relationship also be able to stand when she finds out his secret and also when he finds out her deleted past?!

“Lor…Lord Kamaz” Zelda moaned as she held onto Ragnar’s shoulders. She could feel the temperature of his skin and he was cold to the touch but yet she felt like she was burning. ‘How is it possible that someone this cold could transfer this level of heat?’ He had only placed a kiss on her neck and had run his tongue along a pulsing vein but she could feel how badly her core ached. He did not want to hold onto her, he was trying all he could so his hands would not grab her and that was the greatest form of torment he felt could come to him. Not even the angry looking gashes and slashes on his back from the whippings he had gotten could be compared. “The whole Kingdom almost found out my secret today, little bird…” He said as he brought his nose closer to her neck and took a much needed deep inhale. He closed his eyes as he savoured her scent…that scent that could only come from her. No one else had ever smelled so appealing in all his life. “I don't want you going to any of the chambers meant for the Upper Royals. I don't want them seeing you. I don't want them even thinking about you. I could have laid his head to rest today if those fingers of his had touched you.” He said, recollecting how close he was to decapitating his half brother. “Tell me…Did He Touch You?!” He asked. Zelda's eyes flew open. She looked into his eyes and saw his eyes were still swirling a shade of red. It will be troublesome if he stays this way. She placed one of her hands on his face and he relished in the warmth of her skin. “He didn't. You came before he could…” She said. He nodded his head and his eyes darted to that vein on her neck that was pulling him in. He didn't want to hurt her but yet he could hear the thrum of her blood and not tasting it was maddening enough. “You need to go" He said and he removed his hands that had cornered her to the wall. She knew he was withdrawing from her…again. He was still trying to hold onto his title as the most revered Prince of Noble character, even in this moment because he didn't want to harm her. Instead of speaking, she stood on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on his lips. Her lips parted as she landed on her feet, her chest heaving as she wondered what he would do. The red in his eyes glazed, their hearts drummed in their ears and in a unified heartbeat, he lifted her up with his left hand and crashed his lips on hers. A groan from the depth of his desires quietened in the tangle of their tongues. She wrapped her legs around him and he leaned into her body on the wall. Her fingers sunk in his hair... ***************** Lord Ragnar Kamazotz is a vampire and the first ever of his kind. The beast in him only recognizes the tune of one lady…his Zeda. In his earliest years, she was the only person that could calm him down or get him close to sanity with the help of her instrument. All that stopped when she was hung by the greedy members of the royal family and he slayed all those involved in her death He survived by relying on The Prophecy that promised her coming back. Seven centuries later, he meets her again and his world is at peace until scenes from the ancient days rise up in this present one, threatening to kill her…again! People called her his poison but he called her ‘his Antidote.

“You thrill me little one. You make every damn principle of mine waver. You do it effortlessly…without even trying. Who are you really Amelia?” I asked, my eyes drinking in her facial features that have had me spell bound since the very first freaking second. She is the safe haven I run to after a day of dealing with blood and guns. “Just the least of your assets. Nothing more than something you own” Amelia said and she turned around to continue the dishes. I could feel her mixed hatred towards me. Her hatred was as alive as her desire. I held her hands and dropped the plate she was holding in the sink. I peeled the wet gloves off her hands before lifting her and placing her atop the counter. “What are you doing Massimo?” Amelia asked. Her voice low, so as to not attract anyone. “I don't seem to own you…you seem to own me” I said as I parted her legs - her gown hiking higher - and I stood in between them. “What do you…” Amelia started but I placed a finger across her lips. “I want you little one and I can't wait anymore” I said, my voice husky with desire and want as I pulled her waist closer to me. “Let me taste you Piccino…” I said. “Then have a taste…just a taste” Amelia said, wrapping her hands around my neck and shocking me to the core. “A taste it is…” I said before my lips came down on hers and my body hummed to how good she felt, smelt and tasted. I wanted her on my bed… I needed her in my life… I yearn.... ********* She was sold as a payment and he treasured her because he knew she was priceless…

"You know I am not spewing nonsense Karen. Yes, your wolf might not be there to witness within you that I am yours but you can't deny the fact that you are drawn towards me, somehow, somewhere within, you know!" Karen was breathing hard, she could not believe what she just heard. What Ralph said was the truth and that was why she had been trying to push him far from her. ’My mate???’ "But there is no way to prove it" Karen said with her chest heaving up and down. "There is" Ralph said and his eyes were fixed on hers intently. "How?" Karen asked and her voice came out as a whisper. She was paralyzed by the scorching blazes of Ralph's eyes and the sincerity she could feel from his words. Ralph leaned into her without his body touching hers and took her lips in his. She wanted to push him off but the strength of his hands held her in place and he deepened the kiss. She surrendered and her lips soon followed the pace that his, had set. It was gentle, promising and sent fiery messages all over her skin. Ralph soon let go of her hands and placed his body by hers on the bed as the kiss continued and grew into something ferocious. Their tongues began to play tag and their lips sought dominance over the other. Her hands held unto his shirt and his hand lifted the hospital shirt she had on and began to caress the side of her belly. Karen pulled away from the kiss as she sought air. "Now, do you know how?" Ralph asked. ********************* Meet Ralph Hernandez - the Supreme Alpha of all werewolves and lycans alike and his mate - Karen Zane. She won't bend to his whim because he is the Supreme Alpha, especially when she thinks he is her father's murderer. Follow them on how Karen makes the cold hearted Supreme Alpha Ralph Hernandez fall helplessly in love with her, only for her to leave him - despite her feelings for him. Would Ralph be able to find Karen? Would Karen find out who killed her parents and rescue them from the wickedness of her cousin?

I'm a moaning mess as Antonio slams into me from behind. His hips hit me hard, and each deep thrust sends shockwaves through my body. My breasts bounce with every movement, my eyes roll back, and I moan his name without control. The pleasure he gives me is overwhelming-I can't hold it in. I feel my walls tighten around his thick length. The pressure builds fast, and then- I explode around him, my orgasm tearing through me. He groans loud and deep as he releases inside me, his hot seed spilling into me in thick pulses. Just when I think he's done, his grip shifts. He turns me over and lays me flat on the bed. His dark eyes stare into mine for a moment, filled with raw hunger. I glance down- He's still hard. Before I can react, he grabs my wrists, pins me down, and pushes himself inside me again. He fills me completely. My hips rise on instinct, meeting his rhythm. Our bodies move together, locked in a wild, uncontrollable dance. "You're fucking sweet," he groans, his voice rough and breathless. "I can't get enough of you... not after that night, Sol," he growls, slamming into me harder. The force of his words and his thrusts make my body shake. "Come for me," he commands, his voice low and full of heat. And just like that, my body trembles. Waves of pleasure crash over me. I cry out, shaking with the force of my orgasm. "Mine," he growls again, louder this time. His voice is feral, wild, like a beast claiming what belongs to him. The sound sends a shiver down my spine. *** Solene was betrayed, humiliated, and erased by Rowan Brook, the man she once called husband, Solene is left with nothing but her name and a burning hunger for revenge. She turns to the one man powerful enough to destroy the Brooks family from within: Rowan's estranged and dangerous uncle, Antonio Rodriguez. He's ruthless. A playboy who never sleeps with the same woman twice. But when Solene walks into his world, he doesn't just break the rules, he creates new ones just for her. What begins as a calculated game quickly spirals into obsession, power plays, and secrets too deadly to stay buried. Because Solene isn't just anyone's ex... she's the woman they should've never underestimated. Can she survive the price of revenge? Or will her heart become the next casualty? And when the truth comes out, will Antonio still choose her... or destroy her?

I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.

I spent a year scrubbing floors in my fiancé’s club, hiding my identity as the daughter of the Capo dei Capi. I needed to know if Connor Bishop was a King worth merging empires with, or just a puppet. The answer came walking in wearing a neon pink dress. Jaden Juarez, a civilian he was infatuated with, didn't just treat me like a servant; she deliberately poured scalding espresso over my hand because I refused to be her valet. The pain was blinding, my skin blistering instantly. I video-called Connor, showing him the burn, expecting him to enforce the code of our world. Instead, seeing his investors watching, he panicked. He chose to sacrifice me to save face. "Get on your knees," he roared through the speaker. "Beg her pardon. Show her the respect she deserves." He wanted the daughter of the most dangerous man on the East Coast to kneel to his mistress. He thought he was showing strength. He didn't realize he was looking at a woman who could burn his entire world to ash with a single phone call. I didn't cry. I didn't beg. I simply hung up the phone and locked the kitchen doors. Then, I dialed the one number everyone in the underworld feared. "Dad," I said, my voice cold as steel. "Code Black. Bring the papers." "And send the wolves."

I was the fiancée of the Chicago Outfit’s heir, a bond sealed by blood and eighteen years of history. But when his mistress pushed me into the freezing pool at our engagement gala, Jax didn’t swim toward me. He swam past me. He scooped up the girl who pushed me, cradling her like fragile glass, while I struggled against the weight of my gown in the murky water. When I finally dragged myself out, shivering and humiliated before the entire underworld, Jax didn’t offer a hand. He offered a scowl. "You’re making a scene, Eliana. Go home." Later, when that same mistress shoved me down the stairs, shattering my knee and my dance career, Jax stepped over my broken body to comfort her. I overheard him telling his friends, "I’m just breaking her spirit. She needs to learn she’s property, not a partner. Once she’s desperate enough, she’ll be the perfect obedient wife." He thought I was a dog that would always return to its master. He thought he could starve me of affection until I begged for scraps. He was wrong. While he was busy playing protector to his mistress, I wasn't crying in my room. I was packing his ring into a cardboard box. I cancelled my transfer to UCLA and enrolled at NYU instead. By the time Jax realized his "property" was missing, I was already in New York, standing next to a man who looked at me like a queen, not a possession.

I was meant to study law. Instead, the law sold me. My father's debts sold me into a contract marriage with Dante Moretti, the heir to a mafia empire who hides behind a billion-dollar legal empire. To the world, he's the polished, untouchable CEO. Behind closed doors, he's ruthless, demanding, and dangerously irresistible. I swore I'd outsmart him that I'd serve my time and win my freedom. But every kiss feels like a trap, every touch like a dare, and every secret I uncover pulls me deeper into his world. And the longer I stay, the harder it is to remember: Am I his prisoner... or his bride?

I was the Architect who built the digital fortress for the most feared Don in New York. To the world, I was Brendan Wiggins’s silent, elegant Queen. But then my burner phone buzzed under the dinner table. It was a photo from his mistress: a positive pregnancy test. "Your husband is celebrating right now," the caption read. "You are just the furniture." I looked across the table at Brendan. He smiled and held my hand, lying to my face without blinking. He thought he owned me because he saved my life ten years ago. He told her I was just "functional." That I was a barren asset he kept around to look respectable, while she carried his legacy. He thought I would accept the disrespect because I had nowhere else to go. He was wrong. I didn't want to divorce him—you don't divorce a Don. And I didn't want to kill him. That was too easy. I wanted to erase him. I liquidated fifty million dollars from the offshore accounts only I could access. I destroyed the servers I had built. Then, I contacted a black-market chemist for a procedure called "Tabula Rasa." It doesn't kill the body. It wipes the mind clean. A total hard reset of the soul. On his birthday, while he was out celebrating his bastard son, I drank the vial. When he finally came home to find the empty house and the melted wedding ring, he realized the truth. He could burn the world down looking for me, but he would never find his wife. Because the woman who loved him no longer existed.

For seven years, I was the architect of my fiancé's criminal empire and the strategist behind his every move. I was Dante Gallo’s unofficial Consigliere, his partner in everything but name. Tomorrow, I was finally supposed to marry him and take my place as the queen to his throne. But on the eve of our wedding, a single text message sent by mistake detonated my life. It was a photo from Dante, showing a platinum wedding band on his hand. The message read: “Married this morning. She’s safe now.” My gaze fell to the engagement ring on my own finger. It was the identical band, just smaller. The engraved initials ‘D.I.’ didn’t stand for Dante and I. They stood for Dante and Isabella—his childhood sweetheart. My entire relationship was a lie; I was just a shield to protect his one true love. He dismissed my discovery as a "tantrum." Then, his new bride began taunting me, sending a picture of them tangled in bedsheets with the caption: "Loser." They expected me to break. They thought I would shatter. They were about to find out just how wrong they were. I forwarded the picture to Isabella’s fiancé, a man far more dangerous than Dante. "Your fiancée is in Suite 8808 at the Grand Hyatt," I told him. "I'll meet you downstairs. We're going to crash their party."

For three years, I kept a secret ledger of my husband's sins. A point system to decide exactly when I would leave Blake Santos, the ruthless Underboss of Chicago. I thought the final straw would be him forgetting our anniversary dinner to comfort his "childhood friend," Ariana. I was wrong. The real breaking point came when the restaurant ceiling collapsed. In that split second, Blake didn't look at me. He dove to his right, shielding Ariana with his body, leaving me to be crushed under a half-ton crystal chandelier. I woke up in a sterile hospital room with a shattered leg and a hollow womb. The doctor, trembling and pale, told me my eight-week-old fetus hadn't survived the trauma and blood loss. "We tried to get the O-negative reserves," he stammered, refusing to meet my eyes. "But Dr. Santos ordered us to hold them. He said Miss Whitfield might go into shock from her injuries." "What injuries?" I whispered. "A laceration on her finger," the doctor admitted. "And anxiety." He let our unborn child die to save the blood reserves for his mistress’s paper cut. Blake finally walked into my room hours later, smelling of Ariana’s perfume, expecting me to be the dutiful, silent wife who understood his "duty." Instead, I picked up my pen and wrote the final entry in my black leather book. *Minus five points. He killed our child.* *Total Score: Zero.* I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I just signed the divorce papers, called my extraction team, and vanished into the rain before he could turn around.

Seven years ago, my fiancé, Don Dante Moretti, sent me to prison to take the fall for my adopted sister, Chiara. He called it a gift—a way to protect me from a worse fate. Today, he picked me up from prison only to abandon me at my family's estate. His reason? Chiara was having another one of her "episodes." My parents then informed me I'd be staying in the third-floor storage room, so as not to disturb the fragile girl who stole my life. They celebrated her "recovery" with a lavish dinner party, while I was treated like a ghost. When I refused to join, my mother hissed that I was ungrateful, and my father called me jealous. They assumed I couldn't understand their venomous whispers. But prison was my university. I learned Spanish. I understood every word. It was then I realized I wasn't just a sacrifice; I was disposable. The love I once felt for all of them had turned to ash. That night, in the dusty storage room, I logged onto an encrypted channel I'd set up years ago. A single message was waiting: "The offer stands. Do you accept?" My hands, scarred and steady, typed back, "I accept."

For five years, I lived a beautiful lie. I was Aliana Hughes, the cherished wife of the city's most feared Mafia Capo and the beloved daughter of the Don. I believed my arranged marriage had blossomed into love. On my birthday, my husband promised me the amusement park. Instead, I found him there with his other family, celebrating the fifth birthday of the son I never knew he had. I overheard their plan. My husband called me a "naive fool," a placeholder to legitimize his secret son. The ultimate betrayal wasn't his affair, but the sight of my own father's car parked across the street. My family wasn't just aware; they were the architects of my ruin. Back home, I found the proof: a secret photo album of my husband's other family posing with my parents, and records showing my father had bankrolled the entire deception. They had even drugged me on weekends so he could play happy family. The grief didn't break me. It turned into something cold and sharp. I was a ghost in a life that was never mine, and a ghost has nothing to lose. I copied every damning file onto a USB drive. As they celebrated their perfect day, I sent a courier with my parting gift: a recording of their treachery. While their world burned, I walked toward the airport, ready to erase myself and start over.