Born a slave, made an heiress, Annabelle must battle a society unwilling to accept her and a love that threatens to ruin her in order to keep her freedom. ***** Born a slave, Annabelle soon finds that fate has other plans when she's purchased by a man named Elijah Finley, who not only rescues her from an abusive master, but also gives her her freedom. However, her new life comes at the cost of another: Elijah has made Annabelle the heiress to his estate, in spite of having a son. So Henry Finley, unwilling to accept his father's will, is determined to regain his rightful fortune at any cost -- even if that means seducing his father's former slave... Content and/or Trigger Warning: This story contains some racist and sexist language that reflects the historical time period when it's set. [[word count: 80,000-90,000 words]]

When she was 14, Dalia was sold to Matteo Martinelli, the former leader of the largest Italian mafia. Flash forward with his son, Vittore Martinelli as the new leader, Dalia is given to him as a birthday present after years in spent in the "safe house". Dalia struggles to fulfill a promise she made and get her old self back as Vittore tries not to fall for the black beauty. Will they go through all the lies, jealousy, betrayal, envy, lust and murder together all in the name of love? Because at the end of it all, she is still Property Of Vittore Martinelli. * * * "Lift your hand," I said looking at how he held onto his bicep with a tight grip. "Let me take a look at the bullet wound." "No tesoro. I can do this myself," Vittore grumbled and I gave him incredulous look. "Don't start that bullshit with me Vittore. Remove your arm and let me help you or..." I trailed off, not able to say more. I was still in shock but I could do this. "Just... just let me help." "No." I glared at Vittore. "Why are you being so damn egotistic?! Let me help you! Do you know what it was like to find you like... and to..." I couldn't even get all the words out. "Let me help you. Please." Begging wasn't something I'd ever do but I just needed him to let me help him. "No-" "Why?!" I suddenly exploded. "Why won't you just let me help you?!" "Because I don't know how to handle it ok?!" Vittore suddenly exploded, his dark eyes glaring at me. "I don't know how to handle these... feelings. Fuck tesoro you drive me crazy! Don't you see that? You make me question everything I've ever known and... I can't..." I watched Vittore as his expression turned determined. "Fuck it." He leaned forward and pressed his lips on mine. * * * WARNING! Mentions of death, torture, gore, abuse and other things related to the mafia.

The faint glow of the moon glisten through the drapes over his tanned skin, daring me to awaken all the forbidden desires I kept buried in my thoughts. "Use me," He whimpers as my knees stoop to the floor, ❝... I am rightfully and solely yours, Aaliyah. ❞ ☼ ☼ ☼ Aaliyah Moor is a lot of things, but she isn't stupid. She knew her sister better than anyone and couldn't grasp her sister committing suicide. Aaliyah felt it in her half-broken soul that Ardon Prep would reveal all the silent secrets. All the things Valerie couldn't tell her, not even a whisper, of what happened in that damned school. She made it her mission to figure out what happened to her sister, her moon. Aaliyah didn't care who would get burned in her crossfire or swooned to her deceit; it is all worth it in the justice of Val. What she didn't know was that some webbed lies and laced secrets are meant to be kept away; and if not, death would be the lesser evil.