Javier Solis knows how to leave a mark, both on skin and on the heart. The oldest of six, he grew up surrounded by love, laughter, and art, and now he pours all of himself into the tattoo shop he owns. Navy Jones has spent her life holding everyone else together. The middle child of a big family, dependable and quiet, she became a teacher not just to guide children, but to give the care she's always given others, even when no one gave it back. On New Year's Eve, Navy walks into Javier's shop for her first tattoo: a lotus placed close to her heart. One night, one tattoo, one choice, and suddenly two lives collide in ways neither expected.

Genesis fell for a man she wasn't supposed to help. But when he disappeared in the middle of the night, she was left to deal with the heartbreak alone. Now five years later...she's finally moved on with her life and has an adorable son and loving boyfriend. But when a trip to Korea brings Genesis face-to-face with the one man she never thought she'd see again, things take a turn. Kang Dae is still alive and unaware that the child standing by her side is his. ‼️NOTICE‼️ This is book 2. If you haven't read, "I miss you," I would go read it. (You don't have to tho 🤗)

Imagine being married off to a Mafia King just to pay off someone else's debt. Enzo Liu is the most coldest man anyone has ever met and the most dangerous too, but that doesn't hide the fact of how fucking attractive he is. The man can ruin lives with just the snap of his fingers and a simple order, but it takes one useless barista to make him fall to his knees just for her. *More of a romance than smut* #1 in burn #1 in asianboy

Every morning, Serenity shows up to the office before anyone else - including Ezra Langford, her infamously cold, calculating, and annoyingly attractive boss. She brings him coffee, not because he asks, but because she wants to - always with a handwritten quote on the cup, something cheesy, optimistic, and completely not his style. Or so she thinks. Because while Ezra never says thank you, never even cracks a smile... he's kept every single cup lid with her notes. Hidden in the bottom drawer of his desk, they're the only bright spot in his otherwise grayscale life. But when Serenity's warmth starts to get under his skin - and into his heart - he'll have to decide if he's brave enough to step out of hiding and tell her the truth: She's not just his coffee girl. She's the only reason he still believes in good things. »»-------¤-------«« "So, uh... any regrets on the merger yet?" "Only that Chase ordered shrimp from that place on 8th again." I laugh, too hard and too quickly. "You didn't like it?" "It tastes like regret." I grin. "That's what he said about your budgeting spreadsheet." Ezra's mouth twitches. Not a smile, not really. But close. I should say something professional. Something normal. Instead- "Do you really read them?" I ask softly. He looks up. "The quotes," I clarify, nervous now. "Do you actually read them, or... just collect them?" His eyes hold mine. There's no teasing in them. No cold, hard CEO mask. "I read them," he says. »»-------¤-------«« Word Count: 26, 074

Genesis never thought a wounded soldier would collapses in her backyard. He's injured, armed, and doesn't speak a lick of English. She should've turned him in. But sympathy got the best of her. So she helps him instead. As the days pass, Genesis finds herself falling for the man she was never meant to meet-let alone love. But he isn't just any soldier. He's a member of the SSD. The clock is ticking, but his time with her isn't.

Stefano Vanzetti. You'd have to be living under a rock if you grew up in northern Boston and didn't know who he is. He's the heartthrob of every Italian girl in my neighborhood, the man who's probably had your daughter roll through his sheets at least once, the devilishly handsome mysterious man with dark brown eyes that gave you nightmares, and yes, every horrible thing you've probably heard about him is very much true. Did I also mention he destroyed my dreams and aspirations in life when he asked my father for my hand in marriage? Deleted at: 1.88M views, 67.1K votes, 40k comments 11/2/18 #2 Italian #2 mobster #2 mob #interracial

𝐀 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝'𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 Book Two in The Bittersweet Series. Created: 04/01/20 Published: 05/01/20 Completed: 14/11/20 Rewriting: start 26/01/23

Lyric Brown is a Bronx-born hurricane-part bartender, part artist, all heart. In LA, she craves more than survival; she wants to feel alive. Vanilla, acrylic paint, and stubborn hope cling to her skin like second nature. She doesn't follow rules, and she definitely doesn't follow men. But Diego Romierz isn't just any man. Diego lives in shadows-quiet power wrapped in Cuban silk and cold smoke. He built his empire on secrets and fists, never letting anyone close enough to see the scars underneath. Lyric was supposed to be a distraction. A risk he could control. One night, one broken rule, and a missed period later, they're both pulled into something neither of them knows how to hold. Love. Trust. A heartbeat on a screen. And for two people who've only ever known how to fight, family might be the hardest battle yet.

She just looked up at me, breath catching in her throat, eyes wide and wet beneath the streetlight. The pink of her dress shimmered under the glow, her skin gleaming like bronze polished by heat and defiance. "You want to dance drunk in some stranger's hands?" I demanded, jaw tight. "Fine. Just say it." She stared at me. Furious. Flushed. Shaking. Then she whispered, "Why does it matter so much?" I didn't answer. Couldn't. Because the truth would've ripped open everything. So it came out before I could stop it-low, guttural, the sound of something breaking free. "Because you're not theirs." She froze. And then... she stepped closer. Just a breath. Just a whisper of space left between us. "Then kiss me," she said, voice soft but certain. "You always stop. You always pull away. You tell me you notice me. That you protect me. But you never kiss me." She looked up at me, trembling. "So kiss me. Or let me go." I didn't move. Not for a heartbeat. Not for five. Because I knew what would happen once I did. There would be no turning back. Not for her. Not for me. She looked like sin and sweetness wrapped in fire and I'd already gone too long pretending I didn't want to burn. So I moved. One hand slid to her waist, dragging her closer. The other tangled in the back of her curls, angling her mouth to mine. And then I kissed her. God, I kissed her. Like she was the only source of oxygen left in the world. Like her lips were something I could consume. Like kissing her could fix every cracked, corrupted thing inside me. It wasn't gentle. It was possession. Teeth, tongue, breathless heat and broken restraint. Her mouth opened under mine. I took advantage tasting rum, rebellion and something so soft I nearly lost my balance. Her fingers gripped my jacket like she was afraid I'd disappear if she let go.She moaned into me. That sound soft, desperate, mine shot straight to the center of my chest. I deepened the kiss, groaning as her body arched into mine,

I froze. A man was slumped against the graffiti-covered brick wall, blood blooming across his side. His white shirt was soaked through, and there was a gun just inches from his open hand. My heart slammed against my ribs. Run, Skye. You should run. But I didn't. Instead, I dropped my bag and took a cautious step closer. His head lifted. Piercing, icy blue eyes met mine, sharp even through the haze of pain. His face was all sharp edges and shadowed scruff, blood trailing from the corner of his mouth. His accent was thick and rough, like broken glass. "Leave." I shook my head slowly. "You're bleeding. Bad." "Not your concern." His voice was lethal, but he flinched hard when he tried to move. "You're gonna die out here," I whispered, kneeling beside him. My hands trembled as I pressed a napkin from my apron against his side. "I'm studying to be a nurse. Let me help." He stared at me like I was something he couldn't comprehend. A stranger. A softness he didn't trust. Then his hand, heavy and warm, clamped around my wrist-not rough, but firm. "What's your name?" he rasped. "...Skye." A beat passed. Then another. "I am Mikhail." His eyes darkened. "And you shouldn't have found me."