A man claimed by the devil. A woman claimed by no one. Until him. 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐎 is a monster. His family relies on him to torture and kill. It's his birthright, his curse, and the most delicious punishment for a gluttonous sinner. He's no stranger to violence and depravity. Soldier of the Romano crime family, he might be stranger to everything else. 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐀 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐄 is an outcast, the hidden gem of the Genovese crime family, shunned by her father and forgotten by the world. She's utterly alone, until she finds herself in the wrong place at the wrong time. Kidnapped by the man with dark eyes, tattoos, and a soul to match. And he isn't planning on letting her go. The deviant killer with the angelic name, her intended torturer, the devil of the underground. Santo is quickly becoming something to Nina that seems impossible, something that neither of them are ready for. She threatens to uproot everything he's always known and been, and when secrets are revealed, when demons come out to play, it's not only a matter of how willing Santo and Nina are to salvage something that seems to be the only beautiful corner of both their worlds. It's a matter of whether any kind of beauty can survive in a world so dark. ✚ Dark Saint is a slow burn, enemies to lovers, dark mafia romance with mature content and dark themes. Read at your own discretion. [ Book One in the Romano Brotherhood Series | COMPLETED ✔ ] Featured on @Romance Featured on @StoriesUndiscovered

"You're atheist," I remind him. "You don't believe in god." "I believe in you," He murmurs, letting the cigarette hang from his lips. "I believe in whatever you believe." He says, letting the confession roll off his tongue as if it were that simple. As if god, the devil, heaven, hell-as if none of it really had meaning to him. "That's not how it works," I mutter as we walk down a few more alleyways-the city of Manhattan coated in a light blanket of snow. Henry Vitiello had never had anything to pray for, that is, until he met me-the only thing that had ever opened his mind up to the possibility of religion "Isn't it?" He argues, taking the cigarette by his middle and pointer finger before blowing the smoke out. "I'II dip my hands in holy water if it means I could touch you." "You'd probably burn." 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, the reaper. He's a prick. An asshole. A pretentious son of a bitch. He's not perfect. He's not even decent. But he's hers. She could be a bottle labeled poison but he was an alcoholic, and he had drunk her empty. Now he was hungover. 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, the healer. She's known to be the perfect good girl, with perfect grades and a perfect life with a perfect family. They didn't know that behind the gated doors of their billion dollar estate, she was strapped down to a chair every night and picked apart just to be put back together in time for supper. 𓆩♡𓆪 star-crossed; adjective (of a person or a plan) thwarted by bad luck. 'star-crossed lovers' and that, they were. So they fucked under those very stars that tried so desperately to break them apart. 𓆩♡𓆪 ‼️DISCLAIMER ‼️ BOOK REFERENCES TO MARA DYER, SHATTER ME, MIND FUCK, ETC ARE ALL INTENTIONAL SO DONT BE RUDE. AS FOR TRIGGER WARN

Running from hell isnʼt easy. Especially when someoneʼs dragging you back down into it. Belligerent, brash and always in shades of black, Freya is hardly a lady. Hidden away by her father, sheʼs lived a normal life despite being born into the dark waters of New Yorkʼs underworld. Heʼs cold, cruel and calculating, with a proclivity for destruction. Feared by even Made Men, Torren is the boss of the stateʼs most leachorous crime syndicate. Freya hates his crudity and possessiveness, but she canʼt deny the way her breath hitches at his rough touch, the deep timbre of his voice, and his dark, heated gaze. Torren hates her disobedience, her recklessness, and her chaos. To him, sheʼs only something to be tamed. And after he slips a ring on her hand, snatching away her future, she makes only one vow---to become his biggest torment.

Turn up the Hot Wattpad Energy: Read big, win bigger 🔥 Ready to feel the heat? ☀️ From November 10-16, every minute you read turns up your chances to win: 🎯 30 mins = 1 entry to win 30 Coins 🎯 60 mins = 1 entry to win 60 Coins 🎯 120 mins = 1 entry to win 120 Coins 15,000 winners will bring the energy home. Start reading and see how hot it gets. She's a wild, free spirit who sees the good in everyone, and he's the hardened, bad-tempered loner who wants nothing to do with her-yet no matter how hard he tries to push her away, she's the one temptation he can't escape. *** He's never met someone with such a bubbly personality. Not to mention the wildness and odd phrases she says every five minutes. He hates it. He hates how he can't stay away from it. He hates what she does to him; it's not like him to chase after some girl. She gets under his skin like no other. She's never met someone with such a bad attitude. He's ill-mannered and menacing. The glare never seems to leave his face. Considering it all, she can't help but feel the attraction toward him. Dangerous attraction toward a seemingly dangerous man. Maybe it's the tattoos on his arm that gets her attention. Or maybe it's because she can tell there's hope for good under his rough exterior. And she's about to find it, whether he likes it or not. It's no secret that the two of them are complete and total opposites. *** "You like being called Sugar, don't you?" I tease, placing my toothbrush back after finishing. He does the same and gives me a side-eyed scowl. He grips my chin harshly and kisses me. My body temperature raises a good ten degrees and my right leg goes all wiggly. He pulls away. "You like it when I kiss you, don't you?" He teases the same way I did to him and I'm left blubbering. "I think both of our questions are rhetorical," I lower my voice up at him. His lip curls up into a smirk. *** *Warning* This story contains mature themes (language, scenes)

{FIRST BOOK IN 'THE GIRL IN THE HOODIE' SERIES} {2014-2018} A girl moved to California two years ago. No one knows what she looks like. All they know is that she wears a hoodie. *~*~*~* "HOLY SHIT, NOAH! WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU LET THE TROLLEY GO?! COME BACK! OH MY FUCKING LIFE, FIZZY DRINKS UP AHEAD--" BANG FIZZ POP "...am I dead?" I'm suddenly grabbed by the back of my hoodie and pulled up from the ground and out of the mess of the opened bottles of fizzy which had exploded when the trolley and I crashed into them. My hands instantly go to my hood and I sigh in relief to find that it hadn't fallen off through all of that. I turn my head and look the the employee who's holding me, his face completely red and the vein in his neck throbbing. "Wassup, dude?" I smile sheepishly. *~* {HIGHEST RANKINGS: #1 in Funny #1 in Sad And #1 in Cancer apparently }