Their Wicked Ways: An Enemies-to-Lovers New Adult Romance
  • Reads 237
  • Votes 8
  • Parts 9
  • Time 1h 1m
  • Reads 237
  • Votes 8
  • Parts 9
  • Time 1h 1m
Ongoing, First published Sep 08, 2020
Mature
Dad's dead. 

I've tasted those words on my tongue for a month now and it still doesn't seem real. 

But it is. And there's no time for grieving. 

After the untimely demise of Maxwell Morelli, my brothers find themselves the rightful heirs to his throne. 

And I find myself in a load of shit. 

Because someone wants me dead. At least, that's what Hale, River, and Logan think. And, apparently, they won't stop until I'm rotting in the ground too. 

Now my brothers want me in hiding. And even though I've known how to shoot a gun since I was eight-and could defend myself well before that-they won't send me alone. 

My babysitter for the unforseeable future? None other than Ciro motherfucking D'Angelo - Hale's best friend and right-hand man and a royal pain in my ass. 

Sure, he's sex on a stick - tall and artfully sculpted with inked skin and permanent sex-hair - but he's also an arrogant, selfish, dickhead prick and has been a thorn in my side since around the time I learned how to walk.

He can try all he wants to be the hero in my story, but he never will be. I can handle myself. I'm a Morelli, after all, and Morelli's don't back down from a fight. 

With my brothers by my side I'm determined to win this war. The only way to do that? Find the sonofabitch who's got it out for me and make sure he's the one taking a dirt nap with Dear Old Dad. 

You know what they say - there's no rest for the wicked. 

And The Seville Brotherhood? They're as wicked as they come.
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Heart of Fury - Stone and Fire # 2 [17+]

46 parts Complete Mature

College? No, this was paradise. Three years filled with partying, not so secret underground drug-deals, and hot-headed men sliding into beds like snakes with no self-control. Things were different now. I wasn't that perfect, frill-wearing angel Mama thought would walk into the house ring-beared. So many things had changed, except for one. Him. He was a disease, one I couldn't get rid of no matter how hard I tried. Everytime he's near, I feel myself turn into something I've never seen before. Like there's something under my skin only he is capable of bringing out. He's manipulative, twisted, and completely wrong in every way. I hate him. Yet every night, from miles away, I find him in my dreams. Mikhail Volkov Fuck the patriarchy. Better yet, fuck everything and everyone. It was a game of cat and mouse, me chasing victories every single day. The Bratva's constant want for war was what kept the fuel in my blood, burning up into flames whenever my knuckles made contact with another opponent. In the end, I'm always the one left standing. This fire in my bones, I feel it burst into flames while every dark memory, thought and desire runs into my fists. So many medals, but only the people around me could see them. The real battle was against my head. And maybe, just maybe, I was afraid to admit that I had no chance in winning it. She makes it harder. An angel with wings to everyone else, yet a master at unveiling those devil's horns only when I'm near. There's this darkness, this fire, in the both of us. The only difference is, she's better at hiding it. She was gone, far away, yet there was this tether dowsed in fuel connecting us, one that only lit up when she came back. Every time she's near, I feel the limits surrounding my wrath being tested. Then again, rules are only made to be broken, right? Mafia Dark Romance *Standalone*