She was never supposed to matter to him. Desmond Cole has everything money, power, a corner office with a view of an empire he inherited and women he forgets by morning. He doesn't do feelings. He doesn't do complications. And he certainly doesn't do hotel housekeepers. But when Anaya Mensah spills coffee down his shirt and meets his fury with steady, unbothered eyes something shifts in him. Something dangerous. Anaya doesn't have time for men like Desmond. She has a mother fighting to stay alive, a five-year-old sister who calls her name first, and a dignity she guards like it's all she owns. The last thing she needs is a rich, cold-eyed stranger who looks at her like she's a problem he wants to solve. He thinks she's a challenge. Some people walk into your life and rearrange everything. Desmond Cole is that kind of dangerous.

In a world of cold power and sterile luxury, 𝘿𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚 𝙑𝙤𝙡𝙠𝙤𝙫 is the untouchable devil. A ruthless billionaire whose empire drips with blood and billions, he lives by one savage rule: 𝘕𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮. Skin is poison. Contact is contamination. His body is a locked fortress-until the day his control begins to burn. 𝘜𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘢 𝘋𝘶𝘣𝘰𝘪𝘴. Calm. Graceful. Dangerously composed. The new maid moves through his marble halls like living temptation-soft curves wrapped in a crisp uniform, warm skin that carries the faint scent of lavender and sin. She doesn't cower. She doesn't break. And that quiet defiance sets Dante's blood on fire. His obsession ignites instantly. He isolates her. He watches her every breath through hidden cameras. He pulls her into his private sanctuary and makes her the center of his sterile, suffocating world. What begins as forbidden hunger quickly becomes feral need. The man who recoils from touch now aches to devour her-running starving hands over her bare skin, tasting her trembling lips, burying himself deep inside her slick heat while fighting the revulsion that once ruled him. Every hard thrust, every desperate moan, every filthy whisper of ownership chips away at his sanity. She consents. She surrenders. But she never truly escapes. In the heat of his madness, Dante's touch turns raw, possessive, and devastating. He claims her against cold marble, on silk sheets soaked with sweat, and in the darkness where pain and pleasure blur. He will shatter every rule, ruin his own mind, and lock her in his gilded cage just to feel her come undone around him again and again. She was supposed to be invisible. Instead, she became his addiction... and his only weakness. He will never let her go.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice hoarse, his body still joined with hers. "I love you until it is a sickness. Until it is a religion. Until there is nothing left of me but the part that worships you." In the iron grip of a ruthless modern empire, Emperor Roman Vale rules with absolute power. A dictator cloaked in presidential elegance, he bends nations to his will and crushes dissent without mercy. When his gaze falls on Amara Ellis - a kind, caramel-skinned beauty with soft curves and quiet intelligence - his obsession ignites into something far darker than desire. She works under the colonial ministry, minding her own business, keeping her head down. Calm, clear-headed, and never one to seek the spotlight, Amara never asked for the attention of the most dangerous man alive. She never wanted to be noticed by a man who owns everything he touches. But Roman doesn't simply want her. He needs her. He will possess her completely. In his world of shadows, corruption, and brutal control, love isn't gentle - it's a twisted religion built on dominance, dark devotion, dangerous surrender, and an all-consuming power imbalance. This is not a fairytale. This is obsession wrapped in silk and steel. Welcome to the Twisted Obsession series. Where love is a sickness... and the cure is even darker. 𝘼/𝙉 : 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨 𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙨.

With a wife he regrets marrying and children he cherished beyond everything, Sergey moves to a new town in the USA to further the family business with laser focus. At least that's what he thought until his new neighbour Xolani catches his eyes with her beautiful brown skin, big welcoming smile and... soft succulent lips.

He came for the debt. He stayed to claim her soul. Viktor Volkov rules Moscow's underworld with an iron fist and ice in his veins. As pakhan of the most feared Bratva syndicate, he's used to people paying what they owe - in blood, money, or broken bones. When Viola Isley's brother Liam steals two million rubles and disappears like the spineless coward he is, Viktor doesn't waste time chasing a ghost. He goes straight for what's left behind: her. Viola never signed up for her brother's mistakes. She's just trying to survive - long shifts at the café, cramped apartment in a crumbling Soviet block, nights alone with nothing but her thoughts and the endless Moscow snow. She doesn't know that for weeks, a predator has been watching her every move. Tracking her phone. Hacking her laptop camera. Sitting in the shadows outside her window while she showers, while she sleeps, while she touches herself and whispers into the dark like she's begging for someone to hear. And Viktor hears everything. He knows the exact way she takes her coffee (black, two sugars). He knows the route she takes on the metro every morning at 7:15 sharp. He knows the soft little gasps she makes when she comes on Thursdays, fingers buried deep, back arched against the bathroom tiles. He's memorized it all, jerked off to it in the back of his Maybach more times than he can count, and now the obsession has burned away whatever patience he had left.....

"Will it kill you to back the fuck up?" I snapped. "Yes, princess," he whispered sweetly against my ear, voice full of that sick affection. "It would. I would drop dead right here if I couldn't be next to you." "My lucky day," I muttered sarcastically.

W H I T E O U T ❅ The contract was simple: Two weeks. Two hundred grand. Don't fall in love. For 𝑱𝒐𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒆 𝑩𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆, it's a desperate bid to survive her debt. For 𝑯𝒂𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝑺𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒓, the cold heir to a billion-dollar empire, it's just business. Play the adoring girlfriend for his family's winter retreat, take the money, and leave. Then a blizzard hits. Stranded entirely alone in a remote mountain estate, the icy boundaries between them melt into a bruising, suffocating heat. But when the snow clears and the contract expires, Joelle quickly learns a terrifying truth: Hadrian Sinclair doesn't let go of what's his. The phone lines are cut. The snowplow is sabotaged. The doors are locked. The blizzard is over, but Joelle's nightmare is just beginning. Because the only thing more dangerous than a man with a frozen heart, is the monster that wakes up when it thaws. ❅ "The contract has expired, Hadrian. The roads are clear. Let me go." His pale eyes dropped to my lips, his thumb tracing the pulse racing at my throat. "What roads, Joelle? It's still snowing. We're snowed in. We'll be snowed in forever."

Imani took the job for one reason. Money. Her father's gambling debts are swallowing everything her family owns, and the only job willing to pay enough to save their home happens to be inside the mansion of the most dangerous man in the city-a Russian Bratva king whose name is spoken in whispers. So Imani follows three simple rules. Keep her head down. Do her job. And never look the men of the house in the eyes. For months, it has worked. Until the day she is sent to clean the forbidden top floor. A careless mistake. A drunk mafia soldier. One gunshot that echoes through the study. The man who crossed the line drops dead behind her. And when Imani finally looks up... she meets the cold gaze of the man who pulled the trigger. Roman Volkov. The master of the mansion. The most feared man in the Russian Bratva. A man who notices everything. Except this time, he isn't looking at the body on the floor. He's watching her. Imani wants nothing more than to remain invisible, collect her paycheck, and keep her family from losing their home. But Roman Volkov has just found the only woman in his house who doesn't fear him enough. And once the Bratva king decides he wants something... Walking away is no longer an option

I don't do one night stands. I don't wake up in strangers' beds. I don't creep out of mansions at nine in the morning with my heels in my hand. And I definitely don't lose entire nights to alcohol and end up naked next to a man whose name I don't know. Except I did. All of it. **** "Do you have a boyfriend. A fiancé. A husband." "No." "Good." Just that. Good. Like it was information he'd needed and now had. **** Syrus King is dangerous, possessive, and used to getting exactly what he wants. I was supposed to be a mistake. A blackout. A bad decision. A name I'd never have to say out loud. But he found me. And he already knew things about me I'd never told anyone. **** ⚠️ Mature themes: violence, dark content. No explicit sexual content.

"Tell me if this hurts, Annie." Alyxe said, softly nibbling on her skin. At first, Analeese was confused as to why the small nibbles would hurt her, but she soon realized that the small nibbles weren't what she had to worry about. "Fuck." Analeese cried out as Alyxe bit down hard on the space between her inner thigh. "You don't understand the things you do to me, Annie. I just want to destroy you, devour you, and please you everytime I'm near you." - Analeese was an innocent girl. She knew about sex, but had never engaged in the actual activity. She always assumed it was overhyped, so, she didn't worry about her virginity too much. She had better things she focused on. But, things change when you're in college. Especially when shy boy Alyxe takes a liking to Analeese. She makes his mind foggy in the best way possible, he can only imagine the things he could do to her, the many different ways he could corrupt her innocent mind.