State of Affairs ⚖︎ "You missed a talking point on page four, Governor," I said, sliding the briefing file across his heavy mahogany desk. Tennyson didn't look at the file. His dark eyes stayed locked on my mouth, completely devoid of the golden-man charm he'd just fed to a crowd of thousands. "Lock the door, Milan," he murmured, his voice low and exhausted. "You have a press briefing in ten minutes, sir. And your wife is waiting in the lobby." He stepped around the desk, invading my space until the scent of cedar and expensive bourbon swallowed me whole. His hand brushed my waist, his thumb pressing possessively against my hip. "I don't care," he breathed, his facade finally shattering. "Lock the damn door." 🏛️ To the world, 𝐆𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐑𝐡𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐬 is untouchable. He is the state's golden man, a devoted husband, and a man with a spotless reputation. Everyone worships the ground he walks on. Everyone except his executive assistant, 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐚. Milan has a strict two-year plan: survive the Governor's temper, secure her recommendation letter, and catch a one-way flight to Washington, D.C. Her job description: hand him his black coffee, fix his crooked ties, and treat the most powerful man in the state like a normal human being. But her immunity is exactly what breaks him. Behind the heavy oak doors of his office, Tennyson sheds his perfect mask. He is cynical, ruthless, and spiraling into a dark, desperate obsession with the only woman who doesn't want anything from him. He becomes addicted to her warmth and slowly to her. As late nights at the office blur into a secret arrangement, Milan thinks she has the situation under control. But she doesn't know that Tennyson's public life is a PR lie. She doesn't know that the Governor has absolutely no intention of letting her go. 'Cause what the Governor needs, the Governor gets.

One moment I was just me... and the next I was in a world that shouldn't exist. Velmora. A place where blood runs like currency, rogues hunt in the dark, and a vampire princess keeps saving my life like I matter. She says I don't belong here. She says I'm human. A mistake. An anomaly that shouldn't exist. But the way she looks at me says something else entirely. I should run. I should hate her. I should never trust her. Because now I'm being chased, hunted, and protected by forces I don't understand... all while standing too close to a princess who looks at me like I'm either a problem... or a secret she refuses to name. She says I should fear her world. But I think her world should fear me... because I'm not supposed to exist here. And neither is what's happening between us. But in a kingdom where humans shouldn't exist... I might just be the one thing she can't let go of. This story is intended for mature readers (18+). It includes explicit intimate content and graphic violence. Please read with discretion. P.S. If you enjoy it, feel free to share your thoughts as you go-I genuinely appreciate your feedback 🧡

"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.

"You belong right here, Elysia. Not in New York with Julian, or out somewhere in the city galavanting around with Andrew, or anywhere near Canelley," He mumbled against a fresh mark on the base of my neck. "Right here, nowhere else." For two years Elysia Leal and Salvatore Grant's relationship had been strictly professional. She ran his errands and he ran his business. That is, until, a situation at work puts them in an awkward position causing the lines in their relationship to blur and feelings to ensue.

She was the undesired outcast, who stood out, yet simultaneously blended effortlessly into the background. I could see the panic in her glassy brown eyes as she prayed her way through the crowded hallways. She'd tightly clutch that cross around her neck, full lips whispering, asking her God to spare her from their scornful glares, hateful comments, and the occasional rough-up. Silly girl. Did she not know that he was not listening and he would never save her? Like Jesus, she was the sacrificial lamb. The anxiety-riddled girl would burst through the doors of the school's library with her chest heaving, heart racing, and sweat dripping from her temples. I'd watch her from the shadows as she stored her items behind the check-out counter, preparing for her free period she spent assisting the school librarian. I clenched my teeth, watching her wheel a cart of books throughout the aisles as she cheerfully hummed her Sunday hymnals. She wore a green and blue pinafore dress that fell mid-calf on her shapely body. She attempted to hide that body from me with oversized clothes, but you could never outfox a fox. They spoke pure blasphemy when they labeled her undesirable because I desired Jezebel Holmes in the worst way. Those opaque white stockings our classmates teased her for wearing did nothing but spur countless hours of fantasies. I'd dream about ripping her tights apart, right at her center, revealing her virginal cotton white panties covering her untouched paradise. I'd yank them to the side and taste her fear in her cum. Her stockings would find themselves strangling her neck while I fucked a believer out of her. I would be the one she'd pray to absolve her of her sins. I would be the one she would seek protection from. I would be her guiding light. I would be her God. #1 in Dark Romance #1 in Tainted Love #1 in Preacher's Daughter 1st Place in General Category - Hearts Award

✧☾✧ CONTENT WARNING ✧☾✧ This story contains mature themes intended for adult readers, including: ✦ explicit language ✦ consensual adult intimacy ✦ BDSM‑coded interactions ✦ dominant/submissive relationship structures ✦ "Master & Mistress" title usage within a consensual context ✦ emotional intensity and psychological themes ✦₊˚.⋆｡°✩ Brook has survived a lot... but nothing prepares her for the night her step-mother and step-brothers drag her into a ritual meant to offer her soul to the King of the Underworld so that they stay alive. It should have killed her. He should have taken her. Instead it brought the darkness to light. And of course Hades sees it all. He knows that bringing her to his Underworld as a sacrifice would be a mistake (Hypnos would drag him to the Dream realm and keep him there for as long as he's capable). He also knows that bringing her to his Underworld to be his bride could be worse. Does he care? No. He has no intention of letting her stay in the mortal realm, therefore he has his shadows claim her. His equal. His chosen. His darkness.

"Your gun, Christian," I whispered breathlessly, the reality of who he was momentarily flashing in my mind. Even in bed, he was a dangerous man. He didn't stop. I felt the vibration of a low, dark smile against my skin before he spoke, his voice grazing my ear. "Gun's under the pillow," he whispered. ౨ৎ Lelani, 20 never asked for chaos. She wanted a quiet life, a clean future, and a chance to finally breathe. Christian, 24 was the kind of man she promised herself she would never get close to dangerous, secretive, and tied to a world she has no business stepping into. But fate doesn't care about warnings. And he's not good at letting go. Something about her pulls him in. Something about him keeps her from walking away. All she knows is this: The boy she shouldn't want is the only one who touches her right.

𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥 is an innocent, kind, and unshakable girl that is...until 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝; the Star quarterback, he's untouchable, mysterious and the guy she's tutoring that decides he wants her. He watches, waits, and tests her boundaries. Desire turns dangerous, and obsession doesn't play fair between these two.

Chanel just wanted to celebrate her 21st birthday with her girls and a few drinks. She never expected to get chosen. Never expected to get possessed, owned, and devoured. But that's what happens when a good girl meets her worst nightmare. 😈 ⚠️Mature/ New Adult (18+) Copyright © 2025 by LezLane All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means-electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise-without the prior written permission of the author, except for brief quotations used in reviews or scholarly works.

𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐫𝐨. Rankings: #1 in teacher #1 in bwwm #1 in wmbw #1 in military #1 in french #1 in psychological #2 in nigerian #5 in obsession #7 in possessive #9 in dark romance