(STORY ON HOLD) Forceful. Demanding. Arrogant. He is. Liam Alvaro Luciano is everything any living creatures fear, including me. My name is London Naomi Saint and this is a story about how 18-year-old me winded up with the world's most dangerous and ruthless mafia as a husband of mine.

Eliana Snow is a sweet, innocent young woman who's about to inherit the family fortune at age 21. Right now her parents' company, bank accounts, and estates are managed by the court-appointed trustee - Harvey Snow, an uncle who sincerely hates her. The feeling is mutual. Harvey is capable of anything. Even murder. The plot starts exactly six months before Eliana's 21st birthday. It's the moment when harassment becomes too much to handle. Eliana out of sheer desperation asks the mafia boss Rafael Vincenti for protection and to her surprise she receives a marriage proposal from him. At first, their relationship begins as a passionless business deal but it slowly grows into something more.

Lexie is not a warrior. In fact, Lexie is a painter. Her hands are always covered in paint. Never coming off. Always there. For Lexie, painting is an escape. An escape from her pain. She paints to avoid the darkness that is in her soul. She paints to avoid looking at the bleeding wound inside her chest. She paints. To forget. But then Lexie meets someone. Her mate. He also hides a dark anger inside him. An anger at everything and the world around him. When two souls collide, how do you fix each other? Atlas isn't looking for a mate. He's seen the effect of women within his life, and how cruel they can be. But then he meets someone. Someone he doesn't want to meet. A painter soul. And a warrior's heart. How will the two collide? ***Note this can be read as a stand-alone story. Moon Child can be found on world_joy_ bio page - feel free to read it to get other characters background story. Highest rank #1 in werewolf Thank you for reading Copyright: ©Joy (world_joy_) All rights reserved

He was powerful. He was terrifying. Said to be cruel and unjust. Terrifyingly possessive. He had the world, but to him she was his world. There was nothing he wouldn't do for his miraculum.