Kaili and her two year old daughter, Legacy been on their own since Legacy was born ... until Kaili unexpectedly face Drumani, the most feared drug lord in Texas. Will Drumani ruin her life or will he be there for the better?

The 𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲. Sometimes loud. Sometimes unbearable. Silence held secrets. Right now. Silence felt... Cold. Heavy-Too heavy. It held a sign. A sign of 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬, 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐖𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 - 𝐬𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬

he only wanted Kylo to himself nobody else should even look at him Sequel to hood love

The Dealer and His Roomie ❦ An enemy to lovers romance. For six months, they're stuck together: a reckless dealer and the girl who never stops talking. He wants her gone. She's not leaving. . . . I scoff. "Wow. You must be a hit at parties." "I am, actually." He tilts his head slightly, studying me. "You, though? I'm guessing you talk so much they don't even need music." . . . Warning- Suggestive Content Drama, Crime, Romance Not a single dull chapter, I swear ;) Ratings- #1 in Roommates (13.04.2025) #1 in Sweet (11.05.2025) #1 in Arrogant (13.05.2025)

"𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫.." ©️ 𝙽𝙴𝙸𝙰𝚆𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙴𝚂𝚂

Idk what to say but it's gayaf!!B×B! Make sure to vote!!pls

"you was there for me when i needed you, so i was trying to do the same." sequel to bodyguard

They didn't end up in the same space on purpose. Brooklynn is the quiet type. Not shy... just tired. Tired in the "life been heavy for a while now" way. He minds his business, goes to work, comes home, and keeps his world small because that's how he breathes. Azyir is the opposite. Loud, funny, always in motion. ADHD running the wheel every day. Talks so much he forgets to say what he really means. Laughs loud so nobody asks if he's okay. They sit in the same trig class at their HBCU, but they don't talk. They don't dislike each other either. They just... live in two different worlds. Messiah Markell is their professor. Older, calm, strict in the quiet way that makes people sit up straighter. He owns a club downtown called Desirable, but in class he keeps everything controlled. He doesn't like watching people drown in silence or noise. He sees them both slipping. Not failing. Slipping. So he tells them to stay after class. Every day. Not for tutoring. Not for discipline. Just to sit, breathe, work, or not work. A room where nobody has to force themselves to be "okay." And somehow, without anybody planning it... The quiet one. The loud one. And the man who teaches them how to stay. Start learning how to need each other. Not in a fast way. Not in a dramatic way. In the way real connections happen: Slow glances. Shared exhaustion. Walking home together because home doesn't feel safe tonight. Sitting in silence that doesn't hurt. Being seen without having to explain. This is a story about: Black boy rest. Soft dominance. Messy feelings. Learning how to stay present. No fake deep. No forced love. Just real people figuring out how to breathe.

"𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵. 𝘎𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘐 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨."