When 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬, 22, drops out of college after her father is sentenced to prison for a crime he swears he didn't commit, her life collapses fast...eviction notices, unpaid tuition, a mother barely holding it together. Then 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐭 𝐕𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐧 appears. Late 40s. Private wealth. No digital footprint. He offers her a monthly allowance for companionship only. No sex. No exclusivity clause. No explanations. What unsettles Kailani isn't the money. It's how little she needs to explain herself because he already knows.

𝙏𝙞𝙡 3005, 𝙄 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠, 𝙬𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙙𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨, 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙪𝙥.....

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚. 𝙍𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚, 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚.

noun: weakness. /ˈwēknəs/ -a person or thing that one is unable to resist or likes excessively.

Allen Cole McGregor was bred to hate. A fourth-generation neo-Nazi with blood on his knuckles and a five-year prison scar on his soul, Cole trusts only his name and the men who share his views-until the night they turn on him. Left to die on a snow-covered road out in the middle of nowhere, breath thinning, he welcomes the cold when it comes... and then opens his eyes to an angel. But.. She isn't what he was taught angels look like. Angel LeeAnna Brooks didn't plan to find a stranger bleeding in her path. She didn't plan to move faster than the fear growing inside of her, while hoping and praying that the man before her had no affiliations with the devil himself. After the swastika tattoos screamed their presence beneath his blood-stained clothes, Angel feared the man might be a demon, and she had no idea how to handle that revelation. Their collision is gasoline and a match: a Black woman hiding from pain and loss, a white man raised in a creed of rot, both trapped on a secluded homestead where winter is closing in and secrets stalk the walls. As enemies circle and old lies unravel, Cole is forced to confront the poison in his bones-and the one person willing to see the boy he buried alive. This is not a safe love story. It's a reckoning. Redemption has a cost, and crossing the line means someone-maybe both of them-won't come back the same. Trigger + Themes: racial tension, betrayal, survival, slow-burn redemption, enemies-to-lovers. ***MATURE 18+*** *AMAZON PUBLISHED BOOKS ARE EDITED TO REFLECT CHANGES NOT AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD* This is a Curvy Community Romance: #DISCLOSURE #CelebrateBlackStories #EyesLipsFierce #wattpadbookshelves ⛔️TRIGGER WARNING: This story is MATURE. It contains descriptions of explicit sexual acts/racism/violence. There are explicit depictions of sexual acts written within the context of this story. If this is offensive or triggering for you, please do not read this story. Thanks.⛔️

𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗞 𝗘𝗗𝗚𝗘 ❆ "Move, Carlisle." I kept my chin lifted, refusing to look away from the center of the ice. He didn't budge. Instead, a massive, bruised hand slammed flat against the cold glass beside my head, caging me in. The freezing air of the empty 2:00 AM arena suddenly felt suffocating. "You smile at everyone else like they hung the moon, Nadia," he murmured, his voice a low, vicious scrape. "But you look at me like I'm dirt." He leaned in, his chest brushing mine, his mouth stopping a breath away from my jaw. He left a smear of blood from his split lip on my pristine collar. "Keep looking at me like that," he whispered. "See what it makes me do." ⛸️ 𝑵𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒂 𝑭𝒂𝒍𝒍 has one rule: absolute perfection. If she loses her figure skating scholarship, she loses everything. She doesn't have time for distractions, and she certainly doesn't have time for the suspended, feral enforcer of the university's hockey team who steals her late-night ice time. 𝑽𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒏 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒍𝒆 is the university's star but brutal hockey player. Comes from old-money roots, built for violence, and entirely unhinged. He's used to people either bowing to his wealth or cowering from his temper. But Nadia? She just rolls her eyes and tells him to get out of her way. That was her first mistake. Now, Vaughn isn't just taking up her rink. He's watching her. Stalking her. Discovering the secret, raw passions she hides from the world. And he's decided that her flawless, untouchable world is exactly what he wants to shatter, and he won't stop until every broken piece belongs to him.

Joelle Jordan is just trying to survive university and her life at home. Bryce Valentine is trying to survive everyone else. Projected first-round NFL draft pick. Campus celebrity. The most watched college athlete in the country. When the two strike a deal to trade study sessions for Bryce and personal training sessions for Joelle's little brother, everything seems simple enough. Then Bryce crosses the line. Now Joelle is trying to navigate a boy who is emotionally repressed, touch-starved, obsessively devoted, and surrounded by more pressure than any twenty-year-old should have to carry. Add the coaches, media attention, NIL deals, scouts, photo shoots, and Bryce's oppressive father. The pressure that comes with being attached to Bryce Valentine is something Joelle is not equipped for. Especially when she starts getting a little too comfortable with the fact that Bryce can't seem to leave her alone.

Malika Danai is pressure. Friendly, social, and loved by all, Malika thrives in college and is often seen as a mirage - seemingly real and attainable but disappears when approached. She's a party girl to the core. Loves to drink, flirt, and explore with her best friends, Ayana and Isabella. Her beauty is undeniable. With curly black hair cascading over her shoulders and golden-brown skin that glows no matter where she's at, Malika's presence is impossible to ignore. Her dark brown eyes often sparks with mischief, and her full two-toned lips often curves into teasing grins that hints at secrets she rarely shares. Malika excels at a lot of things but she was never the study type. She prayed the night before exams and hoped that her grades would at least give her a passing score and somehow, that always worked. Until now... Her grades are barely holding on- good enough to pass, but not good enough for a sorority like the Alpha Kappa Alpha (AKA). She wants to join. No she needs to. It's the only way she can prove to her mother that she's worth it. And she'll do whatever it takes. Even if it means casting her pride aside to get help from the boy who loathes her existence. Meanwhile... Theo Sinclair is a weapon. An academic weapon that nobody can beat. Coming from an old money family where the expectations and bars are set high, Theo surpasses them all and is often pushed towards greatness by his family. Yet he has a big flaw: boredom. Because of his uncaring attitude towards everything and everyone around him, Theo is often alone. Deliberately avoiding attention and validation from peers; he thrives in the silence and rhythm of his own scheduled routines. He has only one rule; 'Never let myself feel things I can't control.' To him, parties are ratchet and vile. An enigma vastly contrasting his reverence for solitude, silence, and carefully ordered thoughts. So when he's pushed into an unwanted arrangement, he resents the intrusion because slowly, his rule...

She hated him as much as he wanted her, a thorn in her side ever since they met, and it had only gotten worse with each lingering gaze between them. As an aspiring journalist, Presley didn't believe in love-or lasting romantic relationships of any kind. The last thing she needed in her whirlwind of life was to get involved with her best's friends bodyguard-or rather the head of the Cosa Nostra. A man with little use of manners and secrets in his past. Tall, handsome and covered with tattoos, a living and breathing hazard with a cold nature and quiet demeanor. A beautiful monster dressed in leather jackets, and tight fitting shirts. A made man. Silvio had ever met a woman like her, who spent every minute glaring at him. One who he was consumed to touch despite his dislike for touch. A stubborn femme fatale with soft brown eyes and obsidian curls. A woman he'd been trying to resist for a long time. When a threat from her past lands her into the very arms of her nemesis and into a fake relationship, she's forced to get to know him and suddenly, their fake relationship feels more real than anything she had ever own. - preview - God, it felt right like this was where it belonged-this was where I belonged. And she felt it too, given by the slight rush of her breathing, and dazed eyes. There was always this magnetic pull and tug between us, so irresistible and consuming. "Silvio." She let out a small gasp, obviously not expecting me to touch her, and it burned. Everything right now burned but it felt good. Almost in an addicting way like the pain crossed the threshold and soared to become another feeling. "I don't think this is a good idea." "You want me to stop right now, say it but this is a damn good idea." I said in a gruff voice. "Tell me you don't want this, tell me it's a bad idea and I'll stop."

One of the most powerful man in the world. He was called Octavius. Cruel, coldblooded, and completely unobtainable. The Devil in a Brioni suit. The mere whisper of his name was like lethal poison that burned through the hearts of millions. Penetrating, and clear amber eyes that made grown men weep, and women burned with seduction. Behind the curtains, no one knew what he looked like yet he was always in control. It was a reputation he had fought to establish, one that brought him power, wealth and just about... everything. When a series of unfortunate events lands her into the very strong, powerful arms of Octavius, it was everything she'd been warned about. The beautiful brute, Octavius, moody and controlling in every aspect. She had never met a man as brutal, and stormy as him, someone she couldn't help but sprout wild, random phrases to, and offer hugs. A man that always gets what and who he wants because that's how his life works. Until it doesn't. Until he stumbles into a five-feet angel with the sweetest smile, and adamant about being friends. - preview - "Has any man ever made you so crazy you thought you'd die if you didn't get his cock inside of you? If you couldn't feel his fingers digging into your thighs as he spread you open and devoured you whole? Have you ever come over and over, so hard and so many times you couldn't be sure where one ended and the other began?" His strong, veined hands gripped the backside of my bare thigh, tracing over my skin, itching higher and higher and I could feel a deep ache building inside my lower region. My mouth slacked, at a loss for words, all I could do was whimper softly under his possessive touches. "Answer me." Big, forceful hands caressed my chin, almost gripping my neck, only retracting as I let out a tiny breathless sigh. His dark deep amber eyes were on fire with a carnal sexuality that I had never seen before. "Use your words."