Rocco Montenegro is Spain's most feared mafia lord-ruthless, untouchable, and merciless. The boy who once knew warmth and friendship died alongside his mother's screams, leaving only a man built from shadows and vengeance. He trusts no one. He loves no one. Sienna Wilson has spent her life searching for answers. Her mother left home one evening and never returned, leaving her trapped in the child care system, alone and forgotten. The only piece of her past that remains is a hazy memory of Rocco, the boy who once made her laugh-the only person who ever felt like home. When fate brings her into Rocco's world again-as his personal chef-she expects to find her childhood friend. Instead, she meets a man who is cold, cruel, and terrifying. A man who insults her, tests her, and pushes her to the edge. But despite his arrogance, despite his lethal reputation, she refuses to be afraid. She doesn't know the truth. She doesn't know that Rocco's father is the reason her mother never came home. And Rocco? He swore never to let her get close. But the past has a way of creeping in, and the more she fights him, the more he remembers. She was never meant to be in his world. He was never meant to want her. But some destinies cannot be rewritten-no matter how deadly the cost.
A single gunshot shattered the silence.
The sound echoed through the grand estate, reverberating off the marble floors and high ceilings.
Rocco Montenegro stood frozen, his small eight-year-old body rigid with fear. His father, the mighty and merciless Don Montenegro, lowered his smoking gun with a satisfied smirk. At his feet lay a woman Rocco knew all too well.
Sienna's mother.
Her lifeless body was sprawled on the floor, eyes wide open, frozen in eternal terror. Blood pooled beneath her, staining the expensive Persian rug a deep crimson.
The air was thick with the acrid scent of gunpowder and death. Rocco couldn't move. His chest rose and fell in rapid succession, but no breath filled his lungs.
His throat burned with the urge to scream, but no sound escaped. His wide, tear-filled eyes darted between his father and the body. This isn't real.
This isn't real.
His father turned to him, still gripping the gun in his hand. His sharp features were carved from stone, his expression unreadable except for the wicked gleam in his cold, dark eyes.
"Te lo advertí." (I warned you.) Rocco flinched at his father's voice, deep and laced with menace.
"I told you, boy. The moment she found out what I do-the moment she learned what kind of man I am-would be the moment she died." His father stepped closer, his polished dress shoes sinking slightly into the blood-soaked rug.
"And look at her now." Rocco's tiny fists clenched at his sides.
"What's going to happen to Sienna?" His voice was barely a whisper, but it cracked under the weight of his emotions. His father's lips curled into something resembling amusement.
"Sienna?" He chuckled darkly.
"She's nothing. She's a problem that has been dealt with."
"No," Rocco whispered.
"¡Papá!" A scream tore through the room. His mother-Isabela Montenegro, burst into the study, her golden-brown eyes widening in horror as she took in the scene.
"Dios mío..." (My God...) She rushed toward her best friend, but two of his father's men grabbed her before she could collapse by the body. She thrashed against their hold, screaming Sienna's mother's name.
"¡No! ¡Suéltame!" (No! Let me go!) His father barely spared her a glance.
"You knew the rules, Isabela. You knew this day would come if she got too curious." His mother sobbed, struggling against the iron grip of the guards.
"She was my friend-my sister! She had a child!" His father sneered.
"She should have thought about that before sticking her nose where it didn't belong." Rocco stared at his mother, his young mind trying to make sense of her pain, of the situation.
Then his father turned back to him, leveling him with a hard stare.
"Look closely, son," he said, his voice devoid of sympathy.
"This is who we are. This is what we do. Kill or be killed." Rocco's little hands trembled at his sides. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't.
"She was going to go to the authorities," his father continued, tilting his head.
"She would've destroyed everything I built. They would've taken me away, left you weak and defenseless. Do you want to be weak, Rocco?" Rocco didn't answer.
The silence earned him a sharp slap across the face. His head snapped to the side, a stinging pain blooming across his cheek.
"Talk to me when I'm speaking to you, boy." His father's voice was sharp, slicing through him like a blade. Rocco swallowed down his cry, his small fists clenching so tightly that his nails dug into his palms.
"No, sir." His father nodded approvingly.
"That's my boy." His mother was still screaming, still pleading, still crying for the woman who lay lifeless on the ground. His father waved a hand, dismissing her agony like an afterthought.
"Take her away." The guards dragged his mother out of the room, her sobs echoing in the halls long after she was gone. His father sighed, glancing down at the body with mild disinterest before flicking his fingers at his men.
"Get rid of it. Make sure she's never found." Rocco's stomach twisted into knots as he watched the men move. His father crouched in front of him, gripping his chin in his firm grasp.
"This is the life we live, son. Get used to it." Then-darkness. Rocco shot up in bed, gasping for breath.
His chest rose and fell in rapid succession as beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. His hand flew to his face, fingers pressing against his throbbing temple. That dream. That goddamn dream.
Twenty years later, and it still haunted him. He exhaled sharply, his jaw clenching as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
His bare feet met the cold floor, but it did nothing to ground him. His mind was still trapped in the past, still hearing the gunshot, still smelling the blood.
He pushed himself to his feet and walked toward the massive window of his penthouse bedroom. The sky was still dark, the city of Madrid sprawled beneath him in an endless sea of lights. His gaze flicked to the antique clock on the wall.
4:00 AM.
A humorless chuckle escaped his lips. Of course. He turned away from the window and strode toward the mini-bar in the corner of his room. He grabbed a crystal decanter, poured himself a generous amount of whiskey, and took a long, slow sip.
The burn was welcome. It grounded him, reminded him that he was alive, that he was in control.
Control.
That was what mattered. He hated these nights, the ones where the past clawed its way back into his mind like a relentless ghost. He had long accepted his father's lesson.
He had to.
In this world, love was nothing but a weakness-a weapon others could use against you. Rocco had no intention of being weak. He placed the glass on the bar and ran a hand through his dark, tousled hair.
The faintest flicker of a memory surfaced-a pair of bright, curious eyes. A little girl who used to follow him around, giggling at his every word. Sienna.
He hadn't thought about her in years. He had no idea where she ended up. Probably forgotten him entirely. That's if she was still alive. And yet, for some reason, she was on his mind tonight. Rocco scoffed and turned away from the bar, shaking off the unwelcome thoughts.
It didn't matter.
The past didn't matter.
Only power.
Only control.
And he would never let anyone take that from him. He set the empty glass down and walked toward his bathroom. It was going to be a long day. And he would make sure that no ghosts from his past would interfere with it.
Caroline Alexander had finally escaped her abusive billionaire husband-only to watch him marry her own cousin. Betrayed, broken, and penniless, she vowed revenge. But before she could act, a bullet ended her life. Or so she thought. In the afterlife, the gods offer her a deal: thirty days back in the world of the living. But not as herself. Caroline wakes up in the body of a wealthy heiress-one who has spent the last twenty years in a coma, surrounded by enemies who want her dead. With only a month to settle two scores-her own and the heiress'-Caroline must navigate a web of deception, power, and deadly secrets. But as the clock ticks down, one question remains: Can she get her revenge before her borrowed time runs out?
Seven years ago, Layla ruled. The Queen Bee of university life, she toyed with hearts-until Roman. He was supposed to be just another conquest, the quiet engineering student who didn't care about her games. But when she made him fall, she never expected to fall harder. Then everything shattered. Layla left him broken, and just days later, his little sister died alone. Now, Roman is no longer the bookish boy she knew-he's a ruthless billionaire, powerful, untouchable... and out for revenge. When Layla, drowning in debt and desperation, seeks his help, he offers her a deal: five years as his. His to command. His to break. She refuses. Roman smirks. Then you're not desperate enough yet. But when she has no other choice, Layla signs away her freedom, stepping into a game of obsession, pain, and something far more dangerous-old desires that refuse to die. He swore he'd ruin her. She swore she'd never love him again. But the past has secrets, and when they surface, neither will ever be the same. In a battle of love and vengeance, the heart is the deadliest weapon of all.
Rita Devilroke loved Leandro Riquel with everything she had. He swore to give her the world, but when love wasn't enough, he left. No warning. No goodbye. Just gone. Three years later, he returns as a billionaire, ruthless and untouchable. Rita, still clawing her way through life, refuses to be a chapter in his redemption story. But Leandro didn't come back to apologize, he came back to claim her. This time, she's the one with the power to break him
I once believed I understood love, passion, and longing, until I met him. He turned my world on its axis, making me the object of his obsession while he became the embodiment of my deepest transgression. I became his devoted lover; he became my salvation. He commanded me with unyielding intensity, and I, in turn, surrendered completely to his will.
"I'm going to tell you what I have in mind," he murmured. "First you're going to strip down until you're completely naked," he whispered against her ear. "Then I'm going to tie you up so you're completely powerless and subject to my every whim." "Mmm, sounds good so far," she murmured. "Then I'm going to insert a plug to prepare you for me. After that I'm going to spank that sweet ass of yours until it's rosy with my marks." She shivered uncontrollably, her mind exploding with the images he evoked. She let out a small whimper as he sucked the lobe of her ear into his mouth. God, she could cum with just his words. She was already aching with need. Her nipples tingled and hardened to painful points. Her clit pulsed and twitched between her legs until she clamped her thighs together to alleviate the burn. "And then I'm going to f**k your mouth. But I won't cum. Not yet. When I'm close, I'll flog you again until your ass is burning and you're on fire with the need for relief. And then I'm going to f**k that ass. I'm going to take you hard and rough, to the very limits of what you can withstand. I won't be gentle. Not tonight. I'm going to take you as roughly as you can stand. And then I'm going to cum all over your ass. Are you ready to be completely and utterly dominated?"
Rachel used to think that her devotion would win Brian over one day, but she was proven wrong when his true love returned. Rachel had endured it all—from standing alone at the altar to dragging herself to the hospital for an emergency treatment. Everyone thought she was crazy to give up so much of herself for someone who didn’t return her feelings. But when Brian received news of Rachel’s terminal illness and realized she didn’t have long to live, he completely broke down. "I forbid you to die!" Rachel just smiled. She no longer needed him. "I will finally be free."
"Ahh!" She was in a moaning mess. She did not want to feel anything for this man. She hated him. His hands began to move all over her body. She gasped when he pulled down the back chain of her dress. The chain stopped at her lower waist, so when he zipped it off, her upper back and waist were exposed. "D-Don't touch m-ummm!" His fingers rolled around her bare back, and she pressed her head against the pillow. His touches were giving her goosebumps all over her body. With a deep angry voice, he whispered in her ear, "I am going to make you forget his touches, kisses, and everything. Every time you touch another man, you will only think of me." - - - Ava Adler was a nerdy omega. People bullied her because they thought she was ugly and unattractive. But Ava secretly loved the bad boy, Ian Dawson. He was the future Alpha of the Mystic Shadow Pack. However, he doesn't give a damn about rules and laws, as he only likes to play around with girls. Ava was unaware of Ian's arrogance until her fate intertwined with his. He neglected her and hurt her deeply. What would happen when Ava turned out to be a beautiful girl who could win over any boy, and Ian looked back and regretted his decisions? What if she had a secret identity that she had yet to discover? What if the tables turned and Ian begged her not to leave him?
Sandra Hill, the long-lost real heiress of the Hill family, was shunned by her own kin. Instead of embracing her, they bestowed their affection upon an impostor. They even arranged her to marry a vegetative man in place of her so-called “sister”. Sandra sneered, refusing to put up with this humiliation, cut off ties with the Hill family immediately and ran into the flash marriage with Wesley Cooper, her unconscious billionaire husband. With her incredible medical skills, she defied the odds and revived him. Little did she expect that her husband spoiled her with all his love... A medical genius, a computer prodigy, a national treasure in painting, and a racing legend... Her husband revealed her various identities, leaving the Hill family regretful. Her father came pleading, "It's Dad's fault. Please come back." Her mother wept, "Mom will protect you from now on. Please come back." Even her five brothers knelt before he, begging for forgiveness. Yet, Sandra's smile held a hint of mockery as she vowed, “Never!”
My boyfriend called, "Baby!" as he jumped out of bed and scrambled to pull his pants off the ground. "Please, I can explain my love." Shutting my eyes, I inhaled deeply and tried not to cry when I realized that my dream of the man not being my boyfriend had been dashed. "What?" I asked, "What do you want to explain?" How did you lie about having a business meeting while you were in bed enjoying yourself with my best friend, even though I told you I was in serious pain, is that it?" I stood there, my heart pounding, and tears streaming down my face...
Linsey was stood up by her groom to run off with another woman. Furious, she grabbed a random stranger and declared, "Let's get married!" She had acted on impulse, realizing too late that her new husband was the notorious rascal, Collin. The public laughed at her, and even her runaway ex offered to reconcile. But Linsey scoffed at him. "My husband and I are very much in love!" Everyone thought she was delusional. Then Collin was revealed to be the richest man in the world. In front of everyone, he got down on one knee and held up a stunning diamond ring. "I look forward to our forever, honey."