Can you damage someone beyond repair? Luca plays his role as the loyal underboss. Violent, lethal, flawless. The lapdog, the starboy. On the surface, he maintains his facade of smirks and casual charm, but beneath the mask, thereʼs a profound darkness, a relentless memory of the girl who shattered his heart years ago. Soft, innocent, naive---sheʼs the last thing he needs... yet the only thing heʼs ever wanted. When trouble drags Wren back to New Yorkʼs underworld, she has no choice but to face the past she never outran. She never stopped yearning for the boy who lit up her world seven years ago, the only person who ever made her feel truly alive. Fate throws them back into the same orbit, but can they survive the wreck of their past?

Running from hell isnʼt easy. Especially when someoneʼs dragging you back down into it. Belligerent, brash and always in shades of black, Freya is hardly a lady. Hidden away by her father, sheʼs lived a normal life despite being born into the dark waters of New Yorkʼs underworld. Heʼs cold, cruel and calculating, with a proclivity for destruction. Feared by even Made Men, Torren is the boss of the stateʼs most leachorous crime syndicate. Freya hates his crudity and possessiveness, but she canʼt deny the way her breath hitches at his rough touch, the deep timbre of his voice, and his dark, heated gaze. Torren hates her disobedience, her recklessness, and her chaos. To him, sheʼs only something to be tamed. And after he slips a ring on her hand, snatching away her future, she makes only one vow---to become his biggest torment.

Born into HYDRA, Warren Barnes, the son of the Winter Soldier, has been treated like nothing more than an animal his entire life. A lab rat. An emotionless, thoughtless thing useful only for one thing: killing. When Warren is only three, through trial and error, HYDRA scientists manage to give him the ability to turn himself invisible. After that, he is just another child assassin. An assistant to the Winter Soldier. What HYDRA didn't take into account, though, is that little boys who can turn invisible have quite the knack for disappearing without a trace. Several months later, after being picked up by SHIELD, Warren now has to learn how to be a Boy, despite never having been treated as anything more than Animal. It's an especially hard thing to do when the biggest reminder of all has come crashing back into Warren's life. • This book has mature themes, like anything else you might see in a typical Marvel movie. If there are any typos/errors, please don't hesitate to point them out so I can fix them! Comments are appreciated! Enjoy!

One thing Mazzy Stark has always found peculiar is how her scraped knees always seem to heal within a few measly seconds while the other kids have scabs over their knees for several days. Her dad always says it's medicine, but Mazzy isn't so sure about that. It isn't until Mazzy is faced with a familiar metal-armed man that she begins to realize that it isn't medicine that makes her the way she is; it is a little, red star and a man with a crooked smile. • ⚠️ This book has mature themes, like anything else you might see in a typical Marvel movie.⚠️ Updates set in Captain America: Civil War. If there are any typos/errors, please don't hesitate to point them out so I can fix them! Comments are appreciated! Enjoy!

"Breathe." He dipped his head down so that his lips were right at my ear, his strong arm wrapped securely around my waist, molding my body into his. "If you're going to fall apart,." He starts, teeth gritted. "Now's the time. I'll be here to put you back together when it's over." I squeezed my eyes shut again, and I did just that. I fell apart. ******* Secrets. Lies. Deception. Murder. I'd seen and done it all. And not willingly. So I left. I sacrificed my freedom to save myself, and the only way to ensure my own safety was to start over. Clean slate. New people. New me. But the last thing I expected when I arrived at Manonwell Prep Academy was to be bombarded by a boy-no, a man who held some unknown vendetta against me. Call it obsession, infatuation, hatred. To me it was all one in the same. He was everywhere I turned, like a shadow. Watching me. Taunting me. Haunting me. And it was all because of something I did to him a long time ago. It was something so bad that he couldn't stand me, that he wanted me dead, and the idea of making my life a living hell was something that he took pride in. But I didn't remember. I had no clue what I could've done to him in the past, but he was hellbent on pushing me until I did. My plans on starting over were shattered the minute I stepped inside that school. He was the type of person that demanded your attention without having to speak. He was untamed and wild and unhinged. But what he didn't know was that the Winter Travers that he knew in past, the one I didn't remember, was no longer alive. I was different. She was gone and I was here. And he was everything I should've been afraid of. Sinister, quiet, manipulative, but I knew it would be a cold day in hell before I let him win. Ronan was like gasoline waiting to be doused on the fire that inside me, and if he was ready to burn, then so was I.

"My girl isn't fucking weak and there isn't shit wrong with her. She's a fucking force and her pain is her power." He paused, allowing his words to seep into my soul. "And her place will always be at my side, say it." He demanded. A few tears tracked down my face. My throat was clogged with emotions, and it felt hard to breathe, but I did what I was told. "I'm not weak and there's nothing wrong with me. I'm a force...." I swallowed. "My pain is my power, and my place will always be at your side." "Louder. I want to hear you." My chin trembled but the words that left my mouth next were strong and hard. "I'm not weak. My pain is my power, and my place will always be at your side." "Again." His voice was a whisper against my skin, causing the tips of my fingers to tingle. "Say it again, Sam." My heart thawed. "I'm not weak." I said quietly. "There's nothing wrong with me. I'm a force. My pain is my power, and my place will always be at your side." "Damn straight." He whispered against my lips. "You're fucking perfect. Don't let me hear you call yourself weak, Sam. Because you aren't." ° ° ° 𝗦𝗮𝗺 My life was mapped out for me before I could even take my first breath. I was thrusted into the corrupted world of organized crime and illegal trade. After being broken and left for dead, I finally got my out. I ran. I was free. And then my brother fucked it all up, dragging me back into this twisted form of hell. And then there was Spade, the devil in the most irresistible form. 𝗦𝗽𝗮𝗱𝗲 I was the King of the Cosa Nostra. The definition of violent and tainted. I was merciless, and in my book, there was no such thing as fucking losing. Things have always been the same in the underground, nd when you play with your life, things were collected. Her brother is in my debt, and if that debt isn't paid someone will die. This was just business, so why couldn't I kill her and get shit over with? She was just a means to an end. Right?

"You want a job here, Victoria?" He asks quietly, and I swallow beneath his grip. It was hard for me to breathe- much less speak. Fear spills throughout my body at the sudden realization that Nico could completely crush my windpipes if he wanted to. One squeeze and my life will be over. He brings me closer to his face and I freeze when his thumb slides down the side of my neck. It startles me, causing my heart to thrash restlessly against my ribcage. "Consider yourself hired." Head tilted, he looks at me closely. "You just signed your life away to me. I hope it was worth it." •••

𝗧𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗗𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹 & 𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝗧𝗲𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗼 'Poor little soul.' A pure, innocent soul forced to face the harsh realities they said. A soul that was led down the path of darkness, One that was bent and made to be other's nightmare, only to end up deemed nature's lost cause. How tragic, right? Wrong. Because this, this is not nearly as simple. You see, mostly, if not always, the only real difference between a hero and a villain is a matter of perspective- WHO is telling the story. But not in his case. What if he really embodies the epitome of a real-life villain, instilling terror in the hearts of all those who cross his path, or even hear whispers of his name? What if he's a wicked man who ceaselessly gets whatever his icy heart craves? A monster who seeks power more than salvation, A nightmare who believes vengeance is unerring. A killing machine, devoid of heart or soul, let alone a pure one. Damien, they call him, His name whispered with terror and fear, Because Damien is not an ordinary man, but a man who clawed his way out from the depths of hell. One who's driven by a relentless pursuit of the very thing that threatens to bring downfall to the world we know. He is the reigning terror among monsters, holding dominion over the dark underworld of New York City, Even with his true identity hidden from the prying eyes of all. Damien is no ordinary man. But he is the Devil. So what happens when an angel meets the devil? When a naive runaway escapes one demon, only to find herself in the clutches of the worst of them all? ⊱ ʚɞ ⊰ ~𝗗𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗠𝗮𝗳𝗶𝗮 𝗥𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 ~𝗘𝗻𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗧𝗼 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 ~𝗠𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲 ~𝗘𝘅𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗶𝘁 𝗦𝗲𝘅𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 Complete✔️

𝗧𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗗𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 & 𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀 Revenge Countless souls have fallen prey to its grasp, their lives shattered as deeply as those they sought to harm, if not more so. For most, mere death isn't the end It's not enough to satiate their thirst They crave retribution, wish for something beyond the grave. They want misery upon those who've wronged them. Long for the torment of those who've wounded them But at the end of the day, it's merely a wish, A burning desire for- well, nothing realistic, really For they are weak. Powerless Some may even deem them useless But then, there exist the select few- those who refuse to settle for anything less than the worst, denying death's grasp to unleash a living hell upon their enemies, Those who take matters into their own hands, seizing control & becoming the architects of their own vengeance, Now those, those are dangerous. For in their eyes, the concept of contentment is a foreign notion, replaced by a searing ache for more- More agony, despair. More misery, more wails. More destruction, chaos. People like him, they feed off of fear, thrive in causing pain. They're cunning, calculating, heartless But frankly, even the most twisted of them seem like harmless amateurs in comparison to him. He reeks of death Exudes darkness, sorrow Death is all that shadows his steps, making his existence a reminder of the inevitable fate that awaits his victims. And whispers in the Russian underworld speak of him as Mors- The god of death So, what happens when a girl, who abandoned her family, her life & the very empire bestowed upon her- just to escape the sight of death, catches the eyes of the reaper? What happens when he pulls her into the abyss of his world, intent on destroying all she has fought to be in pursuit of vengeance? And what happens when, as the day wanes, the embodiment of her deepest fear captures her eyes as well?

𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 & 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐉𝐮𝐝𝐚𝐬 Loyalty. It's a simple philosophy of virtue, worn thin by the world. In his hands, it is sacred- A creed carved in blood and obedience. A faith sharpened by order, tempered in the fire of command. Trust is demanded- forged beneath the weight of discipline, Bound by the concept of duty. But in hers, those words are fables- Tales spun by desperate men to keep obedience alive. Loyalty's a language of the desperate- spoken loudest by those too afraid to stand alone. Trust is a fool's game for those who've never bled. And right is wrong, wrong the only right in the chaos she was made for. They were born to opposite sides of the same war- two souls carved from a single wound, destined to bleed for different flags. They were meant to ruin each other quietly. Ruin. Ruin. Ruin and call it mercy. Call it duty. Never to find warmth in the ashes they made. Never to seek solace in what was made to destroy, what was meant to bring death. But fate... fate has never cared for intention- It placed his oath at the mercy of the woman he was trained to destroy, Placed her wrath in the hands of the only man who could ruin it. Steal her fury. Quiet her rage. Unravel the reason she drew breath. And he truly meant to do it- Every bit of it. Meant to ruin, To steal, To quiet, Unravel. He meant to bring justice, Bring justice and strike down a woman born of vengeance until fate intervened once more- Until, somewhere between the hunt and the havoc, he forgot to destroy and learned to worship instead. But worship's not enough to blunt her truth- hungry dogs are never loyal- not even to the palm they once adored. And even the devout, in the end, turn on their gods. 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏...