𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐕𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐬. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥. Forced into a Bratva marriage to settle a blood debt, Alina is delivered to the Reznikov estate like an offering - silent, soft-spoken, and smart enough to know that survival means obedience. Aleksei Reznikov is the coldest man she's ever met. He doesn't raise his voice. He doesn't touch her. He barely looks at her. But beneath his stillness lies a storm. He rules with silence, kills with precision, and makes promises in Russian that chill her to the bone. He tells her not to run. That she belongs to him now. That if she disobeys, he won't raise a hand - he'll break her with nothing but words. But as walls crumble and secrets unravel, the most dangerous thing of all isn't the violence outside their gates. It's the quiet pull between a girl who was never supposed to matter... And the man who swore he wouldn't feel. A slow-burn, dark arranged marriage romance. He's a Bratva heir. She's his obligation. So why is he starting to look at her like she's everything? 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ༺༒︎༻ 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 ✓ 𝟔𝟒 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐄 𝐋𝐘𝐍𝐂𝐇 wants to escape. She wants to pack up and run far far away. Away from cork, away from her deadbeat father and away from all the noise. But it's not that simple. With 4 kids to look after, and an addict twin brother she refuses to let slip through the cracks, shes drowning in responsibility. She uses track as an outlet for all her pent up emotion, and damn was she good. Competing for Ireland Youth's on occasion. Gracie has endless potential, but limited motivation. She felt as if her life was worthless, that she was put in this life to survive and protect and not to live nor thrive. 𝐊𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 was done. He knew there was no escaping his surname and the history it was soaked in. No matter how hard he fights he just can't seem to outrun the shadow cast over all the good he has inside him. Battling wars constantly in his head, the only time it all went quiet was on the pitch. Just him, his team and a rugby ball. 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 grew up alongside eachother, they knew things about one another that no-one else did. But sometimes the present makes it hard to remember the past.

Caden Holland. Honest to God - if trouble had a face, it'd be his. Always arguing. Always correcting. Like he's convinced he's the smartest lad in the room, even when he's talking pure shite. He's got those eyes - dark, quiet, watching everything but never giving anything back. You'd swear he's judging you for breathing wrong. And people talk, don't they? Junkie. Dealer. Bad news. All whispered, but loud enough so you know exactly who they're on about. So I've promised myself one thing: stay away. No smiles. No chats. No pity. Because lads like him drag storms behind them - and you don't even realise you're drowning until you're already under. He's dangerous. Not the loud, show-off kind. The quiet kind. The kind that makes you feel seen and threatened all at once. And I swear on my life - I'm not getting pulled into whatever darkness follows Caden Holland around. *** Mallory Lynch. The name alone sits wrong in my mouth, like something sour. Daughter of the man who put my da behind bars - that's what I was raised on. Fact, not feeling. She doesn't look like danger. That's the trick. She laughs too easily, tilts her head when she listens, pretends she doesn't see the way rooms shift when she walks in. There's a crack in her somewhere. You can hear it if you listen past the cool-girl act. A quiet panic. Secrets rattling around behind her ribs. My plan? Simple. Keep my head. Stay patient. People like her eventually show you who they really are. And when she does - when the truth cracks wide open - I'll be there to watch the Lynch name drop lower than ours ever did. Not out of anger. Out of balance. Because Mallory Lynch smiles like she has nothing to hide - and I know for a fact she's hiding everything.

Brendan Clearly. He was the lad I liked since I was barely out of pigtails, the one who never slagged me off when the rest of the boys thought it was gas. He was different. Always smiling, always asking me if I'd eaten, like some little mammy trapped in a seventeen-year-old fella's body. It sounds stupid, but those tiny things kept me going. And then I went and wrecked it. Not just with him-no, I managed to shatter it with all of them. My friends, the ones who made the halls feel less lonely, the ones who kept me tethered here when the world felt too heavy. Gone. Because of me. Just a mistake, that's all it was, but a mistake that cost me everything. And now when I see him across the yard, laughing with the others, it's like a knife. He doesn't even look my way. And I deserve that, don't I? *** Caoimhe Kavanagh. Once upon a time she was my best mate. The kind of girl you'd sit on a wall with for hours, talking about nothing and everything. She was soft, kind, never the type to go looking for trouble. But now? I hardly recognise her. She's gone cold, sharp, always hanging 'round with that crowd-the type of people you know are only bad news. Ciggies tucked in their sleeves, mouths full of poison. And she's right there in the middle of it, like she belongs to them now. Part of me wants to write her off, tell myself she's not the Caoimhe I knew. That girl's dead and gone. But... I can't. I remember too much. The way she used to laugh, the way she'd defend you even when you were being a gobshite, the way she cared more than she ever let on. That's still inside her, I swear it is. I don't care how hard she tries to hide behind the mask she's wearing now-I know my friend is in there somewhere. And I'll drag her back if I have to. Because she's worth it.

Brian O'Neill. The coldest fella Tommen's has ever seen-or so they say. And I get it. He walks down the halls like he owns the place, never says much unless he has to, face like it's carved out of marble, always unreadable. He's like a winter prince-untouchable, a bit terrifying, and way too beautiful to be real. But he's mine. He's my boyfriend. He makes my heart beat like a bloody war drum every time he so much as looks at me with that stormy gaze of his. Protective to a fault. He'd burn the whole world down if it meant keeping his siblings safe. They're everything to him-his whole bleeding heart, even if he acts like he hasn't got one. And he fights. Not schoolyard scuffles. Not rugby scraps. I'm talking about underground, illegal fights. The kind you don't talk about. The kind you pray he walks away from. *** Daisy Biggs. If sunshine had a body and a runway walk, it'd be her. She's Ireland's it girl-covers of magazines, Vogue campaigns, CHANEL deals before she was even out of third year. Everyone knows her name. Every girl wants to be her, and every lad stares a bit too long when she walks past. But she's mine. She's my girlfriend. Yeah-me. The cold bastard with blood on his knuckles and bruises under his hoodie. I don't know how I pulled her, honest to God. Maybe 'cause she sees something in me no one else bothers to look for. But we keep it quiet. No one at Tommen's knows. Can't risk the papers finding out, or the other students. She's soft with me. Gentle in a way that makes me forget I've got cuts across my ribs or a busted lip. When I show up to her place, bleeding or shaking or just not right in the head after a fight, she never freaks. She just pulls me in, cleans me up, and wraps her arms around me like I'm something worth saving. I know she hates the fights. Hates what they do to me. Hates what I have to do to win. But what am I supposed to do? When you've got a da who treats you like a weapon, you learn real quick that choices are a luxury.

Finn Gibson. Number seven on the rugby team. A gentleman, proper like. Always opening doors and saying things like "after you" and "you alright there?" in this soft voice that somehow makes you feel seen. He's funny too - not the show-off type of funny, more the kind where you're halfway through laughing before you realise it was even a joke. Real clever wit, quiet like. It's not fair, honestly. And he drums, like actually properly drums, not just tapping out rhythms on the school desk like every other lad in Tommen. He's in a band and all. Do I like him? Yeah. I like him loads. More than I should. But this isn't that kind of story. I come from a house where everything's heavy. Where things crack and break and no one says sorry. Where nice things don't last, and if you want something - really want something - it gets used against you. You don't let your heart out in a place like mine. You learn to nod and keep quiet and do what Da says, even when you hate it, even when it's wrong. That's just how it is. So when Finn looks at me like I matter - really, properly matter - I want to believe it. I want to tell him I think about him when I fall asleep. So yeah. I like Finn Gibson. But liking someone like him... it feels like trying to hold light in your hand. Beautiful. Impossible. *** Mina O'Neill. Jesus, I don't even know where to start with her. She's the most beautiful human being I've ever seen in my life, and I mean that with my whole chest. She moves like she doesn't even touch the ground. A ballerina, and not the stuck-up kind either. She's always working, always rehearsing, and when she talks about dance, it's like watching someone light up from the inside. And me? I'm just... me. Watching her from the side of things. Hoping. I think she knows. I know she knows. She's not daft. But there's something holding her back. I don't know what. Maybe it's me. Maybe it's something in her life I don't see. But I'm not giving up.

" Fucking hell Storm, I swear to God!" he seethed, before Andrei could finish his threatening sentence I interuppted loudly. "I'm sorry God can't answer your call at the moment, please try again later. Leave your message after the beep. BEEP BEEP GORILLA TOES!" I don't know what took over me, I honestly don't. Asking for death? Yes Feeling invincible? Yes Hotel? TRIVAGO!! Andrei Jabal, a 25 year old unemotional man with severe anger issues who runs the Russian Mafia in the UK. His next job is to rob the Louvre but he needs her. Storm Campbell, a 23 year old sassy street wise woman. Her only job is to pay of her colossal debt and protect her father. Her skill set is what he needs but her attitude is what reels him in, not even his father has the audacity to speak to him in the way she does. She's fire, his goal is to put her out. CURRENTLY EDITING, something's may be a lil weird. 1 in comedy 22/04/2021 (Hey my pen name used to be Saia Knox, it's now Havva the Author)

▪︎ Kaitlyn Winchester. ▪︎ Lycan by birth. Assasin by occupation. During her entire life after being found in the woods by the Assasin's leader and bought up in his creed, all she wanted to do was fulfil the one thing the man who raised her wanted desperately. To kill Valerian Kingston, the Raven King. Achingly beautiful, terribly cunning and fiendishly cruel. He was like a book with blank pages. So mysterious that it whacked Kaitlyn's already confused brain. But Valerian had secrets far too dangerous and a past far too haunting. What happens when she realizes that the way her heart fluttered at his sight, the way the thought of him dying bought a dull ache to her heart. . . It wasn't all without a reason. And then there's the fact that she's the lost princess of the lycan kingdom. . .

If you would have told me i'd be where I am now about four years ago...i would have thought you were insane.Absolutely deranged,mentally incapable of thinking sense.Because I knew I was a decent 15 year old teenager in my sophomore year.Yes I had issues but who doesn't.I always thought I would lead a normal life.Become a doctor,get married maybe even have kids.Live a happy,perfect life with the guy of my dreams...boy was I wrong.If I had known I would be where I am today back then,I would have ran far away.But god knows you cannot run from destiny.And god also knows that I cannot run now.For I am in a position I wouldn't want my worst enemy to be in. I am Danica Sinclair. And this is my story ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Danica Sinclair:Sweet sassy lovable kind caring These are the word to describe this feisty 15 year old sweetheart but behind that lovable facade lies hurt pain and sorrow.Danica comes from a dysfunctional family.She dreams of going off to university far away from the people she supposed to be closest to.She suffers from anxiety panic attacks and mental health issues on a daily basis but still manages to keep a smile on her face for her friends because they are the people that keep her sane.Her laughter could warm a dead mans heart...but could it warm his Dante Lombardi:Gorgeous italian heartless cruel nonchalant billionaire This 19 year old dominating beast can make the dead man flinch in fear by just a simple stare.He has a terrible past that made him this way .Made him the beast.He hasn't smiled,laughed or cried since then.He has worked since then to get where he is now.A billionaire at such a young age.He wasnt born into the mafia.No.quiet far from it.He was just a simple Italian boy that happened to stumble into someone he quiet frankly needed. From then he became the beast that no one could tame....but could one innocent 15 year old bring warmth to the dead beast? 30K-8/8/21

"𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐈'𝐦 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝...𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞." ▁▁▁▁▁▁ 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐒𝐲𝐧 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲. 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧𝐞𝐝. ▁▁▁▁▁▁ 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ⚠️𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬⚠️ 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: -𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 -𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐀𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞 -𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐀𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞 -𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 -𝐒𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬 *𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤*