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?

𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐌'𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐍 𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐱 There's a city of glass towers and mahogany offices, of champagne that burns like fire on your tongue, of whispers that could ruin empires. Men in tailored suits calculate every glance. Women in heels sharper than daggers trade smiles like promises-and break them faster than you can blink. They live among you, while you're 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗽𝗲𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 below them. And have you ever wondered how they stay on top? The recipe is simple. So simple you could do it yourself, if you knew the rules. Let 𝙉𝙚𝙭𝙪𝙢, a twisted tale of two addicts of power, guide you. Their lives are a blaze of obsession and secrets, a world where desire burns hotter than loyalty, and love is just another gamble-too dangerous for those who hunger for everything. Step closer, if you dare. And remember: in this world, even the fire you crave will 𝗯𝘂𝗿𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗲. 𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐱 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐒𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 @xplicitlyvenus 2025, all rights reserved

𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐄 is pretty sure her new neighbor is a serial killer. What else could explain his antisocial behavior, creepily minimalistic apartment, and that inhumanly emotionless demeanor? Not to mention the bloody body parts that have started showing up. It's too bad she's not scared of him. Or his unveiled threats on her life. But an emotionally scarred gangster on the run -- riding the brink of insanity and followed by a host of trouble -- is a lot more than she could've bargained for. 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐎 is beyond redemption. Capo of the Romano crime family, the sociopathic Prince of Chicago, hell wrapped in a designer suit. He exemplifies cold precision and perfect control. His job has always come easily to him for the very same reason that his name is feared widely: he's incapable of emotion. But something horrifying and sinister is beginning to happen to him. And it turns out that pesky slipping sanity is the least of his concerns. Because his new neighbor is a ray-of-sunshine wildcard dipped in beauty like he's never seen, and she won't leave him alone. Worse, he can't decide if he should kill or protect her. Massimo doesn't count on Vivienne being the first person to look at him like he's human. Or demons from his past coming back to haunt him. Much less a new threat looming on the horizon. Or love. Especially not that. ♛ Deviant Prince is a slow burn, enemies to lovers, dark mafia romance. WARNING: this story gets very dark. You must check the CW in the intro. [ Book 2 in the Romano Brotherhood Series | COMPLETED ✔ ]

Enjoy this story free for a limited time. When Farrah Blake let's slip that she wants to lose her virginity this summer, she doesn't expect her childhood best friend, trust-fund baby Ethan Sinclair, to offer her a deal: if he doesn't find a nice guy for her by the end of their joint family vacation, he'll take her virginity himself. Standalone in the Just One Kiss series *** Farrah Blake is dead-set on losing her virginity as soon as she can, so when the guy she's had a crush on for as long as she remembers offers his help, she can do nothing but accept. Ethan Sinclair has been in her life forever - he's her best friend, just like his mother is her own mother's best friend, and their families go on a joint vacation to the lake house every year. Ethan Sinclair is out of time. His parents have arranged his marriage, just as they arranged his brothers. At the end of their summer vacation, he'll be expected to propose to a woman he barely knows. One last summer of freedom, one last chance to do whatever he wants - and he wants nothing more than to make sure his best friend loses her virginity in the most positive way possible, even if that means hiding his upcoming engagement from her. But as time goes on, and feelings grow, will Ethan follow his family, or his heart?

"You're a thorn in my side." . . . The bane of my existence has always been Alessandro Silvestro. He's the reason my blood boils every time I'm in the same room as him. The reason why I do things out of my character. He brings out the nasty, rotten side of me. He was my first love. First enemy. And if that wasn't enough, he's also the identical copy of my best friend. The person I hate the most also has the face of the person who means the most to me. And he'll stop at nothing to see me crushed and wither in front of his eyes.

𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. . . . . . . . . . . We've all heard the tales of good and bad, the tales of innocent deceit and her hero, the tales that despite their nature, show us the beauty in contrast. But it's the tales of pure evil that get swept under the rug. The tales of deception, where cruelty is rewarded. The tales that have you questioning who the real villain of the story is. There's a simple philosophy to most thing in life; two wrongs 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 make a right. So what ensues when you put two of the worst kinds of people together? Loyalties transfer, lines blur, and hatred ignites complete chaos. She's cunning. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴. She's dangerous. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴. She's evil. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦. Or so that's what we're told. The devil is always worse. But maybe, just maybe, she's the devil in disguise, playing his advocate... . . . . . . . . . . - 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 - 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 - 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. - 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧. - 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞.

"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

C O M P L E T E D : 24/02/22 Sienna Callum was popular - scratch that - she was the queen of high school. She had tons of gorgeous friends wishing to be her, smoking hot flings, and an unbelievably trendy fashion sense. But, she needed one more thing. Decent grades to graduate. Roman Lawrence was a nerd - scratch that - THE nerd of high school. Yet, his exceptional intelligence made him stand out among those seeking to learn. He had one problem though, the girl he'd been crushing on since kindergarten didn't like him back. One of the reasons? His lack of experience.... sexually. This isn't boy meets girl. This is mouse meets vixen. This is what happens when these two opposites strike a deal and things get hot. "So, here's my offer: you tutor me in school, and I tutor you in sex." _____ W A R N I N G T H I S S T O R Y C O N T A I N S : ❤︎ sexual/mature content ❤︎ explicit language ❤︎ alcohol consumption ❤︎ mild violence _____ H I G H E S T R A N K I N G S : 1 #virginboy 1 #goodboybadgirl 1 #nerdboy 1 #scandalous 1 #populargirl 1 #tutor 1 #badgirlgoodboy 2 #forbidden 2 #eroticromance 3 #sexy _____ S T A R T E D - 05/03/2021 C O M P L E T E D - 24/02/2022 (word count: 200,000 - 250,000)

"You're going to let me fuck you like a good girl?" he asks and leans down, "Because you are, aren't you? A good girl?" . . . Elena Amoretto has always been smitten by the one and only, Ares Aetos. For three years, she's adored him from afar. Admiring the god of war and falling deeper into her obsession. While Ares can't seem to stand her. Where she's infatuated with him, he merely acknowledges her existence. While being the center of the spotlight herself. As the front woman of the rising band Icarus, Elena has to face the world while struggling with anxiety. To make matters worse, Ares is the drummer of the band rivaling hers, Dopamine. And just as fate would have it, his band and hers are touring together. She's supposed to hate him. But how could she? When all she does is drown in the blue of his eyes and willingly dies at the ruthless hands of Ares? The god of war who brings her down on her knees while she blissfully falls into his melancholy.

✥ The Rich Girl & Her Bodyguard ✥ Blaise Inocencio, the daughter to a well-known politician, inherits the fear of being killed when she receives a threat after the assassination of her father. The constant fear of being killed only intensifies when there is more than the dark past on the hunt. The Brazilian happens to end up with an ex military officer who was strictly there to protect her. When Blaise comes face to face with the fact he is suffering with an antisocial personality disorder it is hard for her to trust him completely. Octavio Amor was an ex military officer that was foreign to the feelings of forgiveness. Being sociopathic he lacked the most important trait, love. An assassination of a politician, Boris Inocencio, leaves Octavio with one job. He needed to protect Blaise, the only daughter of the assassinated politician. There is sexual tension, manipulation, and love - but was any of that real? ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ "There are countless women in here Octavio that are patiently waiting to be kissed by you. You can take the night off for once." Her lips came in contact with the glass every time she took a sip. Her plump lips wetted with the fine red wine. His eyes never leaving the erotic scene in front of him which left him wishing that he was that glass in her hand. "No." He answered back in his usual emotionless tone. "Why?" She asked as her lips continued to dampen with the fine liquid. "Because romance is not my thing." He answered. "Then what's your thing?" She asked daringly. "I bite your lip Blaise not kiss you."