𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 | 18+ A Dark Sapphic Enemies To Lovers Romance Estella Rylies arrives at St. Virelles Elite Academy for Girls grieving, medicated, and completely alone for the first time in her life. Hidden behind iron gates and polished marble halls, St. Virelles is less of a boarding school and more of a hierarchy. Wealth decides worth. Cruelty is currency. And the girls in maroon ties rule everything. Especially Serenity Lawson. Beautiful, cold, and impossible to ignore, Serenity sits at the center of the school like something untouchable. The moment Estella catches her attention, humiliation turns into fascination, hatred twists into obsession, and the line between predator and prey begins to blur. But beneath the violence, whispered traditions, and brutal power games, St. Virelles is hiding something rotten. Months before Estella arrived at the school, her twin sister vanished without a trace. No body is found, no note is written, and within days it becomes easier for everyone to act as though Maisee never existed at all. Estella knows better. You don't forget someone who shared your heartbeat. And the more Estella digs into the past, the more she begins to suspect that Maisee's disappearance was never truly a mystery at all. - - TW: this story contains explicit sexual content, power imbalances, morally complex characters, emotional manipulation, violence, psychologically intense situations, and triggering scenes.

"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." •••

"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're atheist," I remind him. "You don't believe in god." "I believe in you," He murmurs, letting the cigarette hang from his lips. "I believe in whatever you believe." He says, letting the confession roll off his tongue as if it were that simple. As if god, the devil, heaven, hell-as if none of it really had meaning to him. "That's not how it works," I mutter as we walk down a few more alleyways-the city of Manhattan coated in a light blanket of snow. Henry Vitiello had never had anything to pray for, that is, until he met me-the only thing that had ever opened his mind up to the possibility of religion "Isn't it?" He argues, taking the cigarette by his middle and pointer finger before blowing the smoke out. "I'II dip my hands in holy water if it means I could touch you." "You'd probably burn." 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, the reaper. He's a prick. An asshole. A pretentious son of a bitch. He's not perfect. He's not even decent. But he's hers. She could be a bottle labeled poison but he was an alcoholic, and he had drunk her empty. Now he was hungover. 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, the healer. She's known to be the perfect good girl, with perfect grades and a perfect life with a perfect family. They didn't know that behind the gated doors of their billion dollar estate, she was strapped down to a chair every night and picked apart just to be put back together in time for supper. 𓆩♡𓆪 star-crossed; adjective (of a person or a plan) thwarted by bad luck. 'star-crossed lovers' and that, they were. So they fucked under those very stars that tried so desperately to break them apart. 𓆩♡𓆪 ‼️DISCLAIMER ‼️ BOOK REFERENCES TO MARA DYER, SHATTER ME, MIND FUCK, ETC ARE ALL INTENTIONAL SO DONT BE RUDE. AS FOR TRIGGER WARN