"I would die for her. I would kill for her. I would bleed to death for her if she told me to. I would bleed red. I would bleed any color she wanted me to for her."

Moving to New York after graduation, she vowed never to settle for less, determined to surpass the life her mother had accepted. By her mid-20s, she had secured an executive role at a prestigious Manhattan real estate firm, confident she had everything she'd ever wanted. But one phone call shattered it all. Her sister's shaky voice brought devastating news: her young nephew had cancer, and she was needed at home. Returning meant confronting painful memories she'd spent years burying, yet family demanded her presence. Back in her hometown, she was forced to grapple with harsh realities about love, loss, and forgiveness. Just as she began to find clarity, Lucas stepped into her life, a guarded man with strong, capable hands and a past he couldn't escape. What started as a carefree summer fling quickly deepened, while entangling her in an explosive family drama involving her sister's controlling fiancé. The stakes continued to rise even higher when she realized her company intended to take Lucas's land, placing her heart and her career directly at odds. Loving Lucas meant risking more than just her heart- it meant potentially sacrificing the future she'd fought so tirelessly to build. Could she give up everything she'd achieved for love, or would choosing love for the first time in years become the greatest risk of her life?

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"Stop apologising." So I did. Then I apologised for stopping. I'm the girl who eats lunch alone and tells herself she chose it. A girl who's never been kissed, who hides behind books and oversized jumpers and a smile that says please don't look at me. Malakai Vashko looks at me anyway. Six foot seven, Russian, with knuckles that never heal and eyes the colour of something cold and far away. He fights men twice his size for money and walks out of rooms without explaining himself to anyone, and his enemies have learned not to come for him. They come for the people standing next to him instead. He told me he didn't need a friend, and to stop looking at him like he might be one. I should have listened. But I'd already caught him trying to buy flowers for someone who couldn't receive them anymore, and something in me understood him before my brain caught up. He hides with silence and fists. I hide with silence and books. I didn't fix him and he didn't save me, but the night I grabbed an underground boxer by the hoodie outside a corner shop and told him to stop, something started that neither of us knew how to end. "I don't do this," he told me. "I don't let people in." He still doesn't smile. But he stayed. ------------------ ⚠️ Mature themes: violence, dark content. No explicit sexual content.

TW: MANIPULATION, GASLIGHTING, EMOTIONAL ABUSE, MANIPULATION THROUGH RELIGION Eden never believed in saints, but Father Callum Devereaux makes sin look holy. Fresh off a breakdown and back in her childhood home, she only wants quiet. Instead, she attracts the full attention of the parish's dangerously captivating new priest who seems far more interested in Eden than in saving souls. The collar says he's forbidden. The look in his eyes says she's already his.

Part one Twelve years ago, Sonya met Eric Reyes in a bar in Paris and fell recklessly in love. Almost eight months later, they were married. Nine months after that, the marriage collapsed under Eric's constant disappearances and Sonya's heartbreak. She left believing he simply didn't want her. She didn't know he was a mafia boss. Now, years later, Sonya is kidnapped by a rival crew and used as bait. When Eric walks into the warehouse to retrieve her-cold, controlled, acting as if her near-death was an inconvenience-her world shatters all over again. He takes her back to his estate for "protection," refusing to let her out of his sight. With danger closing in, they're forced back into each other's lives, trapped together with a past neither of them escaped. Old wounds. Unfinished desire. A love that never fully died. Will being stuck together finally pull Sonya and Eric back to each other... or ruin them for good?

"Listen, baby. I don't wanna hear anything from you except my name. No fighting. No talking shit. You're gonna take my dick like a good girl because of the fucking hell you've been putting me through." "And if I don't want to?" "The door's locked, not barricaded," he scoffed smugly. "But you've had so many chances to tell me to give up on you and you never really did. I don't think you wanna leave, do you?" There was still a hint of doubt in his question, so he tightened his grip on my neck to compensate for his fear. This only made me hornier. He was about to ruin me. "No, Mr. Craft, I don't wanna leave." "Then give me your mouth." ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ In which a young professor is hired by the enigmatic Chancellor and founder of Craft University, who looks suspiciously young for his age. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ This is a romance book with supernatural elements following Veronica Greene-Pierre and Sebastian Craft. It is Book 1 in The Craft Trilogy. Happy reading! xoxo. - Sami

He remained quiet as he observed my face. I noticed he was staring at my lips which I was busily biting in apprehension and then he moved his hand towards my lips gently tugging my lips away from my teeth. "I can bite better," he whispered. The statement was so random but it made me smile a little because it was so out of nowhere. The smile quickly disappeared when he started to lean into me. He stopped when our lips were almost touching, our breaths mixing together, but he didn't kiss me. My breathing was so rapid and my heart was thrashing in my chest. The bigger part of me wanted him to kiss me, *What a birthday it would be to just know what a kiss felt like*, but I also didn't want him to because... The bathroom door suddenly opened and someone walked in, "Noah," the voice was sultry. I snapped out of my momentary stupidity when I saw the girl in a towel. I didn't even realize it but I pushed him away and took a step back. I barely glimpsed at the frown on his face before turning to leave. He grabbed my arm and turned me away from the door, "Who said you could leave?" his voice was hard. "I- I want-" The remaining words went back down my throat as I noticed how mad he looked. "Get dressed and leave," he said to the girl, his gaze still pinned on me. "But I-" she started. "Leave, now!" he yelled. She didn't waste any time gathering her belongings and scampering out of the bedroom, leaving me to face his wrath. ******* Highest Rankings #1 Syndicate #3 Forced #4 Bwwm

"You don't get to choose freedom after I've chosen you." Love was never part of the plan. Neither was consent. For Mikolaj Kuznetsov, control is currency. Power is inherited, enforced, and protected at all costs. What he takes, he keeps. What belongs to him does not leave. Malayia was never meant to be seen only contained. Taken from her life and locked inside an estate built on silence and money, she becomes a possession disguised as a privilege. Dressed, fed, watched. Paraded through luxury that feels more like a cage than comfort. Everyone assumes she'll break quietly. They're wrong. Malayia doesn't submit easily. She doesn't soften on command. Every smile is forced. Every moment of calm is borrowed. And the more Mikolaj tries to mold her into something obedient, the more she reminds him that obedience was never promised. What begins as control curdles into fixation. What should have stayed transactional becomes personal. Because Malayia is not fragile. She is not grateful. And she is not blind to the blood on his hands. In a world ruled by men who mistake ownership for devotion, the line between protection and possession blurs beyond recognition. And when power, violence, and desire collide, survival isn't about escape anymore. It's about who bends first. And who burns everything down trying not to. WARNING: This story contains dark themes, obsession, sexual tension, and explicit scenes. Reader discretion is advised.