In which Salem is Tavari's bully. Graduation is approaching quickly, and Salem is told that he cannot graduate without a credit in a foreign language. His victim, Tavari, happens to be the salutatorian of the school. What happens when Salem asks Tavari for help? Will Tavari help him, despite being Salem's target for almost five years? Will they become more than just a bully and his victim?

"You looked at me like I was no one. That was your first mistake." Eva Mirova lives in pages-quiet, romantic, untouched by the world she writes about. But fate doesn't ask for permission. It delivers her straight into the line of sight of Ivan Volkov, a man who doesn't believe in chance... only ownership. He wasn't supposed to notice her. He was there for a deal. But one glance-one moment-and she became his next decision. Not for a night. Not for a taste. Forever. She doesn't know his name. He knows everything about her. She runs. He doesn't chase-he commands the world to close in around her. This isn't a love story. It's a dark vow wrapped in silk and sealed in blood. Because when Ivan wants something, he doesn't court it. He claims it. Marries it. Breaks it, if it resists. And Eva? She just became his bride... whether she says "I do" or not.

"You are mine! Mine to love!, Mine to break! Mine to treasure!, Mine to discipline! No one else has the right to even dare to look at WHAT'S MINE! I won't share you Rosa and I'll be damn if I let anything happen to you!" he whispered roughly as he bit down on my neck to keep me idle but I continued to struggle. "P-Please leave me Alexander.. I don't want to be here with you!" I cried as he continued his assaults and his grasp, on my hands on either side of my head stuck to the wall, constricted so hard that I feared they would break anytime soon. I felt him smirking against my skin before he removed his lips from my skin and stared into my eyes. I shivered at the look the h was giving me; an unspoken promise. "You never had a choice in the first place bambina. I never shared anything that was mine and you darling, you've entered my heart. What makes you think I would let you go..." he got his face nearer to mine, "I'm going to bury myself so deep inside of you it'll leave you feeling hollow when I'm not with you.."

Twisted obsession-1 37 years old psycho also a mafia is now caged in a hospital with chains. Even devils are scare from him. Murder of his own parents. He wasn't like this always, his past made him a psycho. Doctors used him as lab experiments and he have killed more that 10 doctors now it's her turn. 25 years old she innocent and soft.she came here to heal him but her destiny was something else. In one night she was now caged by chains in his mansion. Raped her, broke her, claimed her. Still she fall in love with him. Now she was confused who he is actually? ⚠️ This story contains dark, obsessive love, mature 18+ romance, twisted games, trauma, and possessive desire. Read at your own risk.

Stalker romance Previously known as Acosador CURRENTLY RE-WRITTING 1 in toxic 6/21/25 1 in dark romance 5/19/25 1 in disturbing 8/18/25 1 in big age gap 7/1/25 1 in physiological 7/27/25 The argument didn't escalate. Liam doesn't raise his voice. He doesn't need to. When he's angry, the room gets smaller. The oxygen vanishes. Your own heartbeat betrays you. And when he left the room, slamming the heavy door behind him, I stood there for hours, unmoving. Not because I didn't want to move-but because I didn't know if I was allowed to. That night, he didn't sleep beside me. And I unraveled. I went through three different outfits. I brushed my hair seventy times. I practiced walking with books on my head like Rosa used to force me to do when i behaved badly. I whispered apologies into the dark, unsure if he could hear me. But he must have. Because in the morning, he was in the kitchen, making coffee like nothing happened. And when I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his back, he sighed and said, "There's my good girl."

" i really couldn't give a fuck, key, attitudes get you nowhere. " started: may 24, 2025 ended: _____

"𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯' 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯' 𝘸𝘪𝘵' 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮"

She waitressin' at Starlets, ain't too many I ain't had

⚠️warning⚠️ this book contains mature content and abuse. This Is the first warning and will not be the last. Andrei Volkov is the head of the Russian Mafia. He's ruthless, dangerous, rich and has every woman on their knees begging for him to take them. He's never loved anyone, since his past has left him unable to do so. Skylar Jones; homeless and without any family. She's the kindest and the most selfless person you will ever meet even without money. One day, Skylar meets two men that work for the Russian Mafia. They offer her job that she has a tough time refusing even with the strings attached. What will poor innocent Skylar do when she meets the Andrei? Will she fall madly in love like the rest or simply think him as another man? WARNING: THIS STORY MAY CONTAIN TRIGGER STUFF TO SOME PEOPLE. IF YOU ARE EASILY UPSET BY THE THOUGHT OF RAPE OR ABUSE, DO NOT READ THIS BOOK.

"What are you?" the older man questioned, his voice a chilling blend of authority and amusement, like a knife wrapped in silk. "Your wife," I replied softly, my tone laced with the submission he seemed to crave. "No," he murmured, his lips brushing mine, the words a dark caress that sent shivers through me. "You are my doll, milaya." He towered over me, his intimidating presence both suffocating and intoxicating. The nickname, spoken in that deep, accented voice, wrapped around me like a chain I couldn't help but love. "You are the only woman who is allowed to warm my bed at night," he said, his voice a dark melody, smooth but unnerving. "The only woman who's allowed to step into my office and bend over my desk, waiting for me to come home so I can fuck you." A cold, low chuckle rumbled from his chest, the sound as sinister as it was intoxicating, sending shivers down my spine. ♡ Dimitri Mikhailov, the russian mobster. His presence filled the room like a storm. He didn't have to move or speak to dominate the room. Broad-shouldered and imposing, his scarred face told a thousand stories that he'd never waste words on. He was my husband and I was his precious doll.