"You're finally awake." I blinked once before looking down at the ropes around my wrists. Well... This is unfortunate. "I was beginning to think I'd have to pour cold water on you," the man sitting across from me said. Tailored black suit. Gray eyes. A face I'd never seen before. He slid a folder onto the table. "So," he said, "you're the little hacker who's been stealing my money." I looked at the evidence. Then back at him. "...In my defense... "I glanced back at the folder. "Your cybersecurity was terrible." Three weeks earlier, I thought stealing from an anonymous account on the dark web would change my life. I was right. I just never imagined it would end with me tied to a chair in a stranger's penthouse, negotiating with the owner.

"The things I did to stay sane without you" He groaned. I looked up as I felt the hotness on my face and the tingle in my body. I'd missed him a lot and I wasn't used to him anymore, so I was a bit shy. "Day and night I kissed your pics." he buried his face between my breasts, over my shirt and breathed in, his voice trembling and whiny, "Missed your sweet scent." He mumbled through the kisses. He pulled away and held my face with his palms. He touched his forehead to mine and closed his eyes. "Please. I beg of you. Please, wait for me. Don't forget me. Don't move on. I won't be able to handle it." He whispered, his voice cracking at the end as he stared at me with an agonizing look. MATURE AUDIENCE 18+ I AM STILL EDITING OLDER CHAPTERS.

A couple of 22 year old girls get picked up by a man after a night out. He's friendly, kind. He takes a liking to one of them. June. They exchange numbers and start going out. Little does June know what she has gotten herself into. Corruption, deception, lies, the start of a strained friendship.

Kartier has to choose between being the princess of the "o" or choose the other side and be with the love of her life even if that means risking her life and freedom to be with him, will she choose his love over her family and friends ?

Malika Danai is pressure. Friendly, social, and loved by all, Malika thrives in college and is often seen as a mirage - seemingly real and attainable but disappears when approached. She's a party girl to the core. Loves to drink, flirt, and explore with her best friends, Ayana and Isabella. Her beauty is undeniable. With curly black hair cascading over her shoulders and golden-brown skin that glows no matter where she's at, Malika's presence is impossible to ignore. Her dark brown eyes often sparks with mischief, and her full two-toned lips often curves into teasing grins that hints at secrets she rarely shares. Malika excels at a lot of things but she was never the study type. She prayed the night before exams and hoped that her grades would at least give her a passing score and somehow, that always worked. Until now... Her grades are barely holding on- good enough to pass, but not good enough for a sorority like the Alpha Kappa Alpha (AKA). She wants to join. No she needs to. It's the only way she can prove to her mother that she's worth it. And she'll do whatever it takes. Even if it means casting her pride aside to get help from the boy who loathes her existence. Meanwhile... Theo Sinclair is a weapon. An academic weapon that nobody can beat. Coming from an old money family where the expectations and bars are set high, Theo surpasses them all and is often pushed towards greatness by his family. Yet he has a big flaw: boredom. Because of his uncaring attitude towards everything and everyone around him, Theo is often alone. Deliberately avoiding attention and validation from peers; he thrives in the silence and rhythm of his own scheduled routines. He has only one rule; 'Never let myself feel things I can't control.' To him, parties are ratchet and vile. An enigma vastly contrasting his reverence for solitude, silence, and carefully ordered thoughts. So when he's pushed into an unwanted arrangement, he resents the intrusion because slowly, his rule...

𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐲 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. ✞ ✞ ✞ He wanted to use her. She was the mastermind who planned for that all along. ✞ ✞ ✞ Power. Power built them. Power is what will destroy them. From sworn enemies to reluctant allies, there is nothing 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐈𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐯 wouldn't do, nobody she wouldn't use to reach what her mind has been fixated on for years. Revenge. She's inhumane. Emotionless. Messed up in the head-a diagnosed ASPD mind turned into something precise, something dangerous. A machine. The underworld doesn't call her by name. They call her the flame behind the ghost don. The living requiem. Nyx. And when something like her sets her sights on a target? She takes. Uses. Burns everything necessary to get what she wants. And 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐳𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐨 became exactly that. There's nothing the Camorra king hates more than her-the ghost, the flame, the thorn in his side he's been chasing for years. The assassin behind the Russian don he wants nothing more than to take down. The one thing standing between him and full control over New York City. Blaze is forced to do the one thing he would rather die than do: Ally with the enemy. It was supposed to be simple. Temporary. Strategic. But temptation has always been a dangerous game, and Vera has never been the kind to walk away from a game. Especially one she knows she'll win. Because she's always ten steps ahead. And this time, she chose to play.

𝗧𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗗𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 & 𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀 Revenge Countless souls have fallen prey to its grasp, their lives shattered as deeply as those they sought to harm, if not more so. For most, mere death isn't the end It's not enough to satiate their thirst They crave retribution, wish for something beyond the grave. They want misery upon those who've wronged them. Long for the torment of those who've wounded them But at the end of the day, it's merely a wish, A burning desire for- well, nothing realistic, really For they are weak. Powerless Some may even deem them useless But then, there exist the select few- those who refuse to settle for anything less than the worst, denying death's grasp to unleash a living hell upon their enemies, Those who take matters into their own hands, seizing control & becoming the architects of their own vengeance, Now those, those are dangerous. For in their eyes, the concept of contentment is a foreign notion, replaced by a searing ache for more- More agony, despair. More misery, more wails. More destruction, chaos. People like him, they feed off of fear, thrive in causing pain. They're cunning, calculating, heartless But frankly, even the most twisted of them seem like harmless amateurs in comparison to him. He reeks of death Exudes darkness, sorrow Death is all that shadows his steps, making his existence a reminder of the inevitable fate that awaits his victims. And whispers in the Russian underworld speak of him as Mors- The god of death So, what happens when a girl, who abandoned her family, her life & the very empire bestowed upon her- just to escape the sight of death, catches the eyes of the reaper? What happens when he pulls her into the abyss of his world, intent on destroying all she has fought to be in pursuit of vengeance? And what happens when, as the day wanes, the embodiment of her deepest fear captures her eyes as well?

𝑀𝐴𝑇𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐶𝑂𝑁𝑇𝐸𝑁𝑇! 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑏𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛. He is obsessed with me.. Will Alheri find love out of one's obsession or will his possessiveness run her away? Rowan Salvatore is a well known Don he runs businesses, gangs And a Mafia, he has never been obsessed before or in love but it all suddenly changed when he saw 𝐴𝑙ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑖 𝑆𝑚𝑖𝑡ℎ. "𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙗𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝘼𝙡𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙞 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩"

In the blink of an eye, I lost everything - my mother, my home, and my life. The only thing she left me was a debt I couldn't repay and a bounty on my head, and desperate times require desperate measures. ---------------------------------------- A mischievous smile spreads across his lips as he takes a big step toward me, and as soon as I am within his reach, he grabs my hips and pulls me against him. I lay my hands on his chest and trace my fingers along the outlines of his tattoos as he maneuvers me back to his desk. My ass presses against the edge of his desk as he lets his hands run down my sides until he grabs my ass cheeks " Are you sore from last night, baby?" "I'm fine." "I hope you're not lying to me," he whispers against my lips.