De toute façon... Je ne suis qu'une pièce détachée. Une Barbie grimée de rose qui tourne chaque soir autour d'une barre de fer, sous les néons cramés du 707. Personne ne me regarde vraiment, on me consomme... Dans les rues de Southwark, on vend, sous couverts de nos sourires forcés et nos corps huilés, des pilules, des promesses mais surtout, cette poudre rose... Et au milieu de ce chaos, un homme me guette dans l'ombre, Raven. Il ne parle pas. Jamais. Mais il me regarde. Toujours. On se frôle. Parfois. Il revient chaque semaine au 707 pour les affaires... Mais j'ai parfois l'impression que ce club, cette ville, et moi-même faisons partie du deal. Mais Raven n'a pas encore compris qu'il n'y a rien de plus imprévisible... ... qu'une poupée brisée. "𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎."

❝Come on beautiful, how long are you going to pretend that I'm not the reason for that❞ His eyes glide down my body and stop at my thighs that had mindlessly pressed themselves together. "When you stop pretending I'm not the reason for that" I gesture towards his legs this time, his thighs parted and the hard erection showing through his pants. I can't help but clear my throat at the print. He stands up, with no shame. Not even trying to cover or adjust himself, he only walks towards me as I sit on the chair in his office. With the nudge of his foot, he parts my legs so he can step between them, lifting my chin with his index finger and I meet those enchanting eyes. He leans closer to my ear and his hand finds its place on my thigh, causing my skin to become warmer. "I'm not pretending beautiful, I will happily admit you're the one that gets me this hard any day." Grace Kennedy is smart, beautiful and kind. She's studying to become a doctor one day but before she can afford all the expenses, she works with her mother in her family's bakery. Mariano is a man of charms and far too handsome for his own good. Emerald green eyes that could be mistaken for the actual jewel itself. His entire life revolved around his four year old daughter and his younger brother. Grace couldn't ignore how shy she felt around him as she grew to see him even more. Doing her best to keep the charming man at arm's length, it was hard to do when he knew exactly how to rile her up. She was his Beautiful Addiction. Extended Description in Introduction!

Ghost est de retour à Londres après trois ans passés en Irak. Hanté par son passé et les liens qui le rattachent à une mystérieuse organisation, il cherche à se reconstruire et à oublier les horreurs de la guerre. Cependant, son devoir l'amène à accepter une mission inhabituelle : protéger Cassie Bennett, la fille d'une politicienne obsédée par sa carrière. Cassie, qui se sent invisible aux yeux de sa mère, se retrouve quant à elle brusquement plongée dans un monde de danger lorsqu'un mystérieux harceleur s'immisce dans sa vie. Ghost et Cassie sont forcés de se côtoyer. Mais au milieu de ces tourmentes... Une question se pose : à quel point ce lien forcé est-il dangereux pour eux ? C'est déjà trop tard, les rues sombres de Londres les entraînent dans une spirale infernale, où les secrets et les mensonges se dévoilent un à un. "𝙴𝚕𝚕𝚎 𝚗𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚜 𝚎̂𝚝𝚛𝚎 𝚞𝚗 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚘̂𝚖𝚎, 𝚕𝚞𝚒 𝚊̀ 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝 𝚍'𝚎̂𝚝𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎. 𝙳𝚒𝚜-𝚖𝚘𝚒, 𝙲𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚎, 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚜-𝚝𝚞 𝚌𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚒 𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎, 𝚜𝚒 𝚝𝚞 𝚛𝚎̂𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚛."

Aucun d'entre eux ne s'attendaient à que cette soirée d'hiver bascule leur univers. Des secrets déterrés, des destins brisés...et si toutes les vérités n'étaient pas bonne à éclater ? D'un côté Elyo Keurton. Tueur à gages. Seulement un nouveau contrat pour lui. De l'autre Ryo Moreno. Séquestrée. Certainement l'unique chance d'une nouvelle vie pour elle. « Aide moi à me venger. » Se détester, s'allier, pour se venger. « Il ne s'agit plus seulement de toi mais de nous maintenant. » Quand la haine prend le dessus il ne reste plus qu'une seule issue. La vendetta, la seule et l'unique.

𝑫𝑹𝑶𝑾𝑵𝑬𝑫 𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑫, Book 1 in 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 a dark enemies-to-lovers gang/mafia romance by 𝐊. 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊. 𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐋𝐘𝐌𝐏𝐔𝐒 One of the most feared and deadly syndicates in all of Italy. Whispers of their names alone sent shivers down the spines of even the boldest criminals. But among them all, none cast a longer shadow than 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐀-the leader, the weapon, the son of the oldest Russo, and the most brutal soul in the underworld. He wasn't a monster carved from myth. He was worse-human. A man built like a god, carved by rage, and cursed with eyes like the original Gorgon. They didn't turn people to stone anymore... but they froze them just the same. An arms trafficker. A tactician. A tyrant. Medusa wasn't born from the Echoes of Olympus-he forged them with blood and fire. But he wasn't the only myth walking in flesh. She had spent a year running from her past, a year choosing every day not to end it all with a blade across her veins. She could have vanished. But instead, she reached out with bloodstained hands-back into the shadows where it all began. Her name was spoken in the underground like a curse. 𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄-the black-haired goddess. Unpredictable. Unyielding. A tormentor of tormentors. And a woman with nothing left to lose. Now, both rulers of the dark are forced into a fragile alliance-two myths wrapped in flesh, carrying fire and fury in their veins. And they just happen to share the same enemy. 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - Strong langue - Sexual content - Violence

{TAKEN DOWN FOR PUBLISHING} Join the discord to know more/read the last chapter for the announcement. Discord link on my bio. +18 MATURE CONTENT "Even The Wicked Needs Love." ELIO MARINO, also known as IL MALVAGIO 'The Wicked' is a man whose presence alone is enough to evoke a silence more sinister than the one from a graveyard. Nothing could shake him, or so he believed. ZAHRA FAIZAN was trouble. Growing up with men who treated bullets like sugar cubes, she has risen from the streets and created the most notorious gang of thieves in the whole of Italy, but after a job gone wrong, she finds herself and her crew held captive by The Wicked, and she would do just about anything to take advantage of it. Even if it was as foolish as performing the biggest heist her gang has ever gotten to dream of. Little did she know she was about to be thrust right into a wicked world, wicked than the one she had once known. Could she tame the wicked and bring him to his ruin? Or tame him and keep him to herself? After all, even the wicked needs love.

"𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬" "The bartender and the Mafia Underboss" How long can it take before the line between sex and love is blurred? NEEDS EDITING! Cover made by @ladameid <33

"You're going to let me fuck you like a good girl?" he asks and leans down, "Because you are, aren't you? A good girl?" . . . Elena Amoretto has always been smitten by the one and only, Ares Aetos. For three years, she's adored him from afar. Admiring the god of war and falling deeper into her obsession. While Ares can't seem to stand her. Where she's infatuated with him, he merely acknowledges her existence. While being the center of the spotlight herself. As the front woman of the rising band Icarus, Elena has to face the world while struggling with anxiety. To make matters worse, Ares is the drummer of the band rivaling hers, Dopamine. And just as fate would have it, his band and hers are touring together. She's supposed to hate him. But how could she? When all she does is drown in the blue of his eyes and willingly dies at the ruthless hands of Ares? The god of war who brings her down on her knees while she blissfully falls into his melancholy.

When 20-year-old Fallon Lopez lays eyes on a man who's quite a few years older than her, she immediately feels an attraction toward the mysterious man. She finds herself being drawn to him, feeling a spark grow between them and the tension grow thicker by each passing minute. Though, who knew that he was the man she could never have? . . . "You're playing a dangerous game." "Maybe losing has a sweeter taste than victory."

La mort frappait dans l'ombre. Elle n'avait jamais été vue, elle n'avait jamais été entendue, arrachant des âmes à leurs amours, amis et familles 365 jours par an. Jamais. Du moins, jusqu'à cette nuit d'automne, dans le fin fond de cette superette sombre et fuie de la population new-yorkaise. Elle, elle l'avait vu et il le savait. Il le savait et à présent, elle en avait trop vu, trop dit. Les vies que la mort prenait étaient éphémères, celle de Zara ne tenait plus qu'à un fil. Nous n'échappions pas à la mort et la mort ne nous échappait pas. Mais qui fixait les règles après tout ?