WARNING: SEXUAL CONTENT!! A story in which a woman is married off to a war general who leaves for a five year war. When he comes back he is nothing like the man she met all those years ago. Unedited

"The Caregiver and the Mob Boss" ❦ Avelina makes her money by taking care of those who can't take care of themselves. When she is handed a case about a man who had needed a personal caregiver, she accepts. One thing Avelina never anticipated was the dangerous lifestyle he lived. Not only that, but she didn't expect for him to be so incredibly good-looking. Adrik Zolotov, the Russian mobster that everyone called "Mad Hatter". His insanity and crave for blood left him the most feared man of all. All he wanted was power and those around him to fear him. For a man recently diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome, everyone believed him to be emotionally incapable of ever loving anyone. . . Imagine their surprise when he meets Avelina. ❦ "Mr. Zolotov, I have to make sure you bathe before I leave. It's apart of my jobs protocol," she said softly. The truth was that he made her feel nervous. There was so much coldness and evil in his eyes, it left a chill to run down her spine. "Fine," he stated before walking over to his bathtub. Her eyes followed his movements as he pulled off his shirt causing her to lick her lips and quickly look away. She could hear the sound of more clothes falling onto the ground until the sound of water running littered her eardrums. "You assist when asked, isn't that right?" He asked. Slowly, she opened her eyes to see that he had already gotten into the shower. "Yes," Avelina answered. "Bathe me." ❦ Dangerously far from cliché

"My girl isn't fucking weak and there isn't shit wrong with her. She's a fucking force and her pain is her power." He paused, allowing his words to seep into my soul. "And her place will always be at my side, say it." He demanded. A few tears tracked down my face. My throat was clogged with emotions, and it felt hard to breathe, but I did what I was told. "I'm not weak and there's nothing wrong with me. I'm a force...." I swallowed. "My pain is my power, and my place will always be at your side." "Louder. I want to hear you." My chin trembled but the words that left my mouth next were strong and hard. "I'm not weak. My pain is my power, and my place will always be at your side." "Again." His voice was a whisper against my skin, causing the tips of my fingers to tingle. "Say it again, Sam." My heart thawed. "I'm not weak." I said quietly. "There's nothing wrong with me. I'm a force. My pain is my power, and my place will always be at your side." "Damn straight." He whispered against my lips. "You're fucking perfect. Don't let me hear you call yourself weak, Sam. Because you aren't." ° ° ° 𝗦𝗮𝗺 My life was mapped out for me before I could even take my first breath. I was thrusted into the corrupted world of organized crime and illegal trade. After being broken and left for dead, I finally got my out. I ran. I was free. And then my brother fucked it all up, dragging me back into this twisted form of hell. And then there was Spade, the devil in the most irresistible form. 𝗦𝗽𝗮𝗱𝗲 I was the King of the Cosa Nostra. The definition of violent and tainted. I was merciless, and in my book, there was no such thing as fucking losing. Things have always been the same in the underground, nd when you play with your life, things were collected. Her brother is in my debt, and if that debt isn't paid someone will die. This was just business, so why couldn't I kill her and get shit over with? She was just a means to an end. Right?

Love is the one memory that one could never, ever, forget; because even if one has lost its mind, the feeling of love will always remains in the heart; curing every emotion to ever be felt. The antidote to it all.

𝗧𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗗𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹 & 𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝗧𝗲𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗼 'Poor little soul.' A pure, innocent soul forced to face the harsh realities they said. A soul that was led down the path of darkness, One that was bent and made to be other's nightmare, only to end up deemed nature's lost cause. How tragic, right? Wrong. Because this, this is not nearly as simple. You see, mostly, if not always, the only real difference between a hero and a villain is a matter of perspective- WHO is telling the story. But not in his case. What if he really embodies the epitome of a real-life villain, instilling terror in the hearts of all those who cross his path, or even hear whispers of his name? What if he's a wicked man who ceaselessly gets whatever his icy heart craves? A monster who seeks power more than salvation, A nightmare who believes vengeance is unerring. A killing machine, devoid of heart or soul, let alone a pure one. Damien, they call him, His name whispered with terror and fear, Because Damien is not an ordinary man, but a man who clawed his way out from the depths of hell. One who's driven by a relentless pursuit of the very thing that threatens to bring downfall to the world we know. He is the reigning terror among monsters, holding dominion over the dark underworld of New York City, Even with his true identity hidden from the prying eyes of all. Damien is no ordinary man. But he is the Devil. So what happens when an angel meets the devil? When a naive runaway escapes one demon, only to find herself in the clutches of the worst of them all? ⊱ ʚɞ ⊰ ~𝗗𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗠𝗮𝗳𝗶𝗮 𝗥𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 ~𝗘𝗻𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗧𝗼 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 ~𝗠𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲 ~𝗘𝘅𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗶𝘁 𝗦𝗲𝘅𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 Complete✔️

It's not that I won't or refuse...I can't. (S)chizoid (P)ersonality (D)isorder- A condition in which people avoid social activities and interacting with others. Depersonalized Schizoid- Often described by the schizoid patient as a tuning out or a turning off. Affectless Schizoid- Lack passion, remain unresponsive in social situations, and are highly unlikely to show any affection to prospective significant others.

She hated him as much as he wanted her, a thorn in her side ever since they met, and it had only gotten worse with each lingering gaze between them. As an aspiring journalist, Presley didn't believe in love-or lasting romantic relationships of any kind. The last thing she needed in her whirlwind of life was to get involved with her best's friends bodyguard-or rather the head of the Cosa Nostra. A man with little use of manners and secrets in his past. Tall, handsome and covered with tattoos, a living and breathing hazard with a cold nature and quiet demeanor. A beautiful monster dressed in leather jackets, and tight fitting shirts. A made man. Silvio had ever met a woman like her, who spent every minute glaring at him. One who he was consumed to touch despite his dislike for touch. A stubborn femme fatale with soft brown eyes and obsidian curls. A woman he'd been trying to resist for a long time. When a threat from her past lands her into the very arms of her nemesis and into a fake relationship, she's forced to get to know him and suddenly, their fake relationship feels more real than anything she had ever own. - preview - God, it felt right like this was where it belonged-this was where I belonged. And she felt it too, given by the slight rush of her breathing, and dazed eyes. There was always this magnetic pull and tug between us, so irresistible and consuming. "Silvio." She let out a small gasp, obviously not expecting me to touch her, and it burned. Everything right now burned but it felt good. Almost in an addicting way like the pain crossed the threshold and soared to become another feeling. "I don't think this is a good idea." "You want me to stop right now, say it but this is a damn good idea." I said in a gruff voice. "Tell me you don't want this, tell me it's a bad idea and I'll stop."

All it takes is one shared glance to win over his intrigue, one touch to draw him in, and your love to win his obsession...

(Book #1 of Sinners of the Dark) He had a habit of dragging darkness just about everywhere he went. Darkness wrapped in Armani. His personality colder than a block of ice. She was loud, carefree and tainted around the edges. I played by the rules. I did what was asked of me. Until I met the one person that could destroy everything I had worked for. I hated him since our first encounter, and now I was forced to tolerate him. He was called gadyuka in Russia, but he was known as the Sin in the deep underground of New York. Handsome face filled with violence, commanding, gorgeous and deadly. A killer, a thief, a sociopath, and feared by all. A made man. He came dressed in all black. Gold cuff links. Tattoos burned into his skin. He had the ability to pin me to the ground with a single glare and made me feel things I didn't want to. He was absolutely unhinged. Frightening. Everything wrong and everything right. And he held the key to my cage in his palm. And before he crushed the key; I was going to fuck with the serpent, and then I was going to hunt him. He just didn't know it yet. - preview - "I'll fucking ruin your life, Elena. Corrupt every goddamn part of your body, and soul. And when I'm done with you, you'll get on your knees and thank me." His low voice snarled. Desperate. He backed me into a wall. He grabbed me by the throat, but didn't choke me. Just kissed me so deep I forgot whose air I was breathing. "I'm not fucking done with you, Elena. And if it is up to me, I'm not done fucking you either."

....where only one thing is required: your silence