𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒍 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 | 𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒈𝒓𝒊𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒑𝒆𝒓 18+ 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫. Misfortune has followed Vivienne since the moment she was born. Living quietly with her grandmother, she has long accepted that her future holds nothing bright. That belief is proven true the night she meets a strange man in the cemetery and offers him a beer, unaware of the fatal mistake she has made. The Grim Reaper turns his attention to Vivienne, his fascination twisting into something dangerous and inescapable. Caught in a web of secrets, lies, and forbidden feelings, Vivienne must make a choice that will change her life forever. But with the devil breathing down her neck, knowing what's right and what's wrong is no longer so clear. ♰ "𝐖-𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮?" "𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐚 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐊𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞. 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞." 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄. 𝐓𝐑𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. 𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒, 𝐎𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

「"𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐫, 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐯𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠"」 ── He stepped closer, slowly. ❝ So... this is the one? ❞ ❝ Please... don't hurt me...❞ ❝Aren't you just the prettiest little thing I've ever seen? ❞ ── Etienne Theodore is all innocence and wide eyed wonder. A boy lost in his own world of stuffed bunnies and imaginary kingdoms. He lives in a small house in Moscow with his abusive, alcoholic father. Innocent. Pure. Untouched. A little angel drifting through a world too cruel for him. And then there's Aleksander Volkov. Bratva king. The wolf. All seven deadly sins wrapped in one man. Raised in hell, bending both heaven and hell to his will. He is the very definition of blasphemy. When Etienne's father is buried under debt, he is sold to him. Aleksander had never known innocence... until he saw Etienne, fragile and wide eyed, clutching his bunny in his tiny, scared hands. When innocence meets sin, only one question remains: who will survive... and who will be consumed? ──

*𝙏𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙡 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙢.* Book 1 of ᴄʜᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ᴄʜᴏɪᴄᴇs. A Royal Romance story. "Every curve of you is made to fit into my hands. My hands and my hands only." He lowered his mouth to her shoulder again, trailed moist lips to the nape of her neck. "Don't worry, My Angel," he whispered. "I'm made for your hands, too." ✧ Nikolai Ivanovich Petrov isn't just the youngest son of the Russian royal family-he's a mafia lord, a storm in human form. With the looks of a Greek God, he's a dangerous blend of beauty and power. His empire stretches across continents, built on fear, loyalty, and blood. Power is his addiction, and he's willing to do anything to claim it. To solidify his control, he needs one thing: a marriage. Not for love. Not for desire. But as a strategic weapon. And Radhika Bhardwaj, the naive daughter of a broken family, is the perfect pawn. Radhika was never meant for this world. A girl who once dreamed of freedom, now trapped in a marriage that serves nothing but Nikolai's ambitions. She didn't choose him. She didn't even get a say. Nikolai didn't care for her innocence or her life. For him, she was just another piece in his game. But in her, Nikolai sees something no one else has ever dared to show him: vulnerability, and a spark of light that might set fire to his world. Two worlds crash. Two souls collide. He doesn't care if she hates him. But he will own her anyway. "I hate you," she said. "I hate you too, baby," he replied. A man whose control over everything is absolute, can a single woman change the rules, or will she be crushed under his weight?

「 "𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞"」 ── My feet slammed into the grass, lungs on fire. Blood slicked my hands. I didn't look back. I knew he was there. ❝ Run, baby, run. Run for your fucking life,❞ he growled. ❝ When I catch you, I'll fuck you.❞ ── 𝓐𝓮𝓻𝓲 𝓥𝓪𝓵𝓮: I'm mute. I haven't spoken since the night my world drowned in blood and screams. The night I became a ghost in my own life. My stepbrother made sure I never forgot what I'd done. His fists, his venom, his cruel hands. They were my punishment. Everyone else sees a broken orphan. They look away. Pity me. They're easy to fool with silence and sad eyes. But not him. Aaron Deveraux. Leader of The Reapers. He saw through me from the first rose left on my bakery doorstep. Then came the shadows, lingering too long and the suffocating certainty that he was always near. I try to run. But he likes it when I run. ── 𝓐𝓪𝓻𝓸𝓷 𝓓𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓾𝔁: I was made in blood and scripture. A Reaper dressed in priest's black, sent to smash skulls and drag filthy souls back to God by the throat. Violence is the only good I've ever answered to. I'm not supposed to want him. This quiet little ghost with flour on his hands and forest green eyes that speaks the words his lips refuse. I'm not supposed to burn for the one thing my faith condemns. But the moment I saw him, something inside me cracked. Now I'm obsessed and fucking addicted. He bakes bread to feed the living. I break bones to save their souls. We were never meant to touch. But God put this hunger in me for a reason. And I was never a man who denied his calling. Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned ──

「"𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐫, 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫"」 ── ❝ 'You like being hunted, don't you, little thing?' he said. 'You like knowing you drag the fucking monster out of me just by breathing.' ❞ ── Cyril Roosevelt doesn't belong at L'Académie Sainte-Marie-a prestigious Parisian university for the rich and powerful. He's poor. Shy. Soft. The scholarship student that nobody takes seriously. But someone is watching him. He starts getting gifts. Blood red roses with no sender. Handwritten letters calling him his little mouse. Messages from an unknown number that seem to know exactly where he is. Exactly what he's wearing. Exactly how fast his heart is beating. And then there's Deimos King. The mafia prince everyone fears. The monster Cyril can't outrun. But what scares Cyril most isn't Deimos's reputation. It's the way Deimos looks at him. Like he owns him. Like he's been waiting for him. The walls close in when Cyril receives an invitation to a secluded mansion. Masked faces, and a Halloween party that feels more like a trap. 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 has a name. And it's coming for him.