Alive

“Answer me honestly Serena. Did he kiss you?" Arsenio asked Serena. He had backed her against the wall, making her lose her one chance at escaping him. His body was tense and every nerve in him was on end as he awaited her response. “What is it to you Arsenio?! He might be a bad person but at least he knows what he wants and he sure as hell goes for it. You kiss me one moment and the next you tell me it's a mistake. You tell me how badly you want me and try to chase anyone who shows the least interest in me and yet you keep me at arm's freaking length. Enough Arsenio. I will do what I want to do…how I want to do it and with whom I choose. Hell, I'll even spread my legs wide open for Gerald if it would mean…” Arsenio had heard enough and he quickly turned her to face the wall. He held her both hands with one of his above her head before he pressed his body so close to hers. “You have been naughty, Bellisomo. Teased me to no end and made me go crazy countlessly. Now let's find out if your body agrees with your words “ Arsenio said and his fingers went missing under the short blue gown she had worn to test Gerald Mason. ******************** Arsenio Vladmiro - son to Massimo Vladmiro and Amelia Vladmiro finds out about his forbidden feelings for the one person he should not think of in that manner - Serena Toralba. She is the daughter to their family’s Consigliere and their parents raised the both of them in the same mansion together. He struggles between going for the girl he has always seen as a younger sister till seven years ago or letting her go. He had his pretty share of women in the world but the one woman he shouldn't want is the one his heart thrums for.

“I’m sorry but I can't continue this. We have both gotten what we intended from fooling the world that we were actually a couple. It's time to go our separate ways Jarek… like we said we would, “ Olivia said, hoping the tone of her voice would not betray her and convey her true need…her true desire. “Too late Liv.” Jarek said stunning Olivia. “As a Stark, it’s my duty to uphold the rules of any binding and keep to my end of the bargain but with you… With you, I plan on breaking every rule out there that exists as long as I keep on being yours. I can not bear to see you with another. It will kill me…” Jarek replied and the last clause came out as a whisper as he tilted her chin up to face him properly. “I could go raving mad Miss Forte. Stay with me!” His last words had stolen the other words she had rehearsed earlier, it had snatched the willpower Olivia thought she had perfectly. “Kiss me Mr Stark. My name is Olivia and it feels pleasant to meet you, “ Olivia said as she ran her hands from his chest to his shoulders. He did not have time to react to her sub - introduction before he clasped his lips on hers. She hummed a moan at the familiarity of his lips that she had thought she would never get to experience again and she earned a groan from him as the ‘supposed’ reuniting kiss, intended to be soft and alluring graduated to something ferocious. Hands finding buttons, fingers sinking in hair… ********************* Jarek Stark, the only son to the Stark Empire, was a mystery to the media. They know he exists but no one could tell who exactly he is. He worked as a lawyer in a law firm and got intrigued by a particular woman who wasn't fascinated by any of his charms. Her name, Olivia Forte. A woman with a strong sense of justice for others than herself. She is unaware that in the shadows she has a fan -a stalker - who uses his spare time to keep tabs on her. He makes no advances towards her because he was aware of the love she had for her boyfriend. That was until he cheated on Olivia. Seeing an opportunity to get close to her, he latches on it. Would Olivia still desire to be with Jarek when he becomes her boss and reveals his true identity to her and others? Would their relationship also be able to stand when she finds out his secret and also when he finds out her deleted past?!

“Lor…Lord Kamaz” Zelda moaned as she held onto Ragnar’s shoulders. She could feel the temperature of his skin and he was cold to the touch but yet she felt like she was burning. ‘How is it possible that someone this cold could transfer this level of heat?’ He had only placed a kiss on her neck and had run his tongue along a pulsing vein but she could feel how badly her core ached. He did not want to hold onto her, he was trying all he could so his hands would not grab her and that was the greatest form of torment he felt could come to him. Not even the angry looking gashes and slashes on his back from the whippings he had gotten could be compared. “The whole Kingdom almost found out my secret today, little bird…” He said as he brought his nose closer to her neck and took a much needed deep inhale. He closed his eyes as he savoured her scent…that scent that could only come from her. No one else had ever smelled so appealing in all his life. “I don't want you going to any of the chambers meant for the Upper Royals. I don't want them seeing you. I don't want them even thinking about you. I could have laid his head to rest today if those fingers of his had touched you.” He said, recollecting how close he was to decapitating his half brother. “Tell me…Did He Touch You?!” He asked. Zelda's eyes flew open. She looked into his eyes and saw his eyes were still swirling a shade of red. It will be troublesome if he stays this way. She placed one of her hands on his face and he relished in the warmth of her skin. “He didn't. You came before he could…” She said. He nodded his head and his eyes darted to that vein on her neck that was pulling him in. He didn't want to hurt her but yet he could hear the thrum of her blood and not tasting it was maddening enough. “You need to go" He said and he removed his hands that had cornered her to the wall. She knew he was withdrawing from her…again. He was still trying to hold onto his title as the most revered Prince of Noble character, even in this moment because he didn't want to harm her. Instead of speaking, she stood on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on his lips. Her lips parted as she landed on her feet, her chest heaving as she wondered what he would do. The red in his eyes glazed, their hearts drummed in their ears and in a unified heartbeat, he lifted her up with his left hand and crashed his lips on hers. A groan from the depth of his desires quietened in the tangle of their tongues. She wrapped her legs around him and he leaned into her body on the wall. Her fingers sunk in his hair... ***************** Lord Ragnar Kamazotz is a vampire and the first ever of his kind. The beast in him only recognizes the tune of one lady…his Zeda. In his earliest years, she was the only person that could calm him down or get him close to sanity with the help of her instrument. All that stopped when she was hung by the greedy members of the royal family and he slayed all those involved in her death He survived by relying on The Prophecy that promised her coming back. Seven centuries later, he meets her again and his world is at peace until scenes from the ancient days rise up in this present one, threatening to kill her…again! People called her his poison but he called her ‘his Antidote.

“You thrill me little one. You make every damn principle of mine waver. You do it effortlessly…without even trying. Who are you really Amelia?” I asked, my eyes drinking in her facial features that have had me spell bound since the very first freaking second. She is the safe haven I run to after a day of dealing with blood and guns. “Just the least of your assets. Nothing more than something you own” Amelia said and she turned around to continue the dishes. I could feel her mixed hatred towards me. Her hatred was as alive as her desire. I held her hands and dropped the plate she was holding in the sink. I peeled the wet gloves off her hands before lifting her and placing her atop the counter. “What are you doing Massimo?” Amelia asked. Her voice low, so as to not attract anyone. “I don't seem to own you…you seem to own me” I said as I parted her legs - her gown hiking higher - and I stood in between them. “What do you…” Amelia started but I placed a finger across her lips. “I want you little one and I can't wait anymore” I said, my voice husky with desire and want as I pulled her waist closer to me. “Let me taste you Piccino…” I said. “Then have a taste…just a taste” Amelia said, wrapping her hands around my neck and shocking me to the core. “A taste it is…” I said before my lips came down on hers and my body hummed to how good she felt, smelt and tasted. I wanted her on my bed… I needed her in my life… I yearn.... ********* She was sold as a payment and he treasured her because he knew she was priceless…

"You know I am not spewing nonsense Karen. Yes, your wolf might not be there to witness within you that I am yours but you can't deny the fact that you are drawn towards me, somehow, somewhere within, you know!" Karen was breathing hard, she could not believe what she just heard. What Ralph said was the truth and that was why she had been trying to push him far from her. ’My mate???’ "But there is no way to prove it" Karen said with her chest heaving up and down. "There is" Ralph said and his eyes were fixed on hers intently. "How?" Karen asked and her voice came out as a whisper. She was paralyzed by the scorching blazes of Ralph's eyes and the sincerity she could feel from his words. Ralph leaned into her without his body touching hers and took her lips in his. She wanted to push him off but the strength of his hands held her in place and he deepened the kiss. She surrendered and her lips soon followed the pace that his, had set. It was gentle, promising and sent fiery messages all over her skin. Ralph soon let go of her hands and placed his body by hers on the bed as the kiss continued and grew into something ferocious. Their tongues began to play tag and their lips sought dominance over the other. Her hands held unto his shirt and his hand lifted the hospital shirt she had on and began to caress the side of her belly. Karen pulled away from the kiss as she sought air. "Now, do you know how?" Ralph asked. ********************* Meet Ralph Hernandez - the Supreme Alpha of all werewolves and lycans alike and his mate - Karen Zane. She won't bend to his whim because he is the Supreme Alpha, especially when she thinks he is her father's murderer. Follow them on how Karen makes the cold hearted Supreme Alpha Ralph Hernandez fall helplessly in love with her, only for her to leave him - despite her feelings for him. Would Ralph be able to find Karen? Would Karen find out who killed her parents and rescue them from the wickedness of her cousin?

On my wedding day, my father sold me to the Chicago Outfit to pay his debts. I was supposed to marry Alex Moreno, the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. But he couldn't even be bothered to show up. As I stood alone at the altar, humiliated, my best friend delivered the final blow. Alex hadn't just stood me up; he had run off to California with his mistress. The whispers in the cathedral turned me into a joke. I was damaged goods, the rejected bride. His family knew the whole time and let me take the public fall, offering me his cousins as pathetic replacements-a brute who hated me or a coward who couldn't protect me. The humiliation burned away my fear, leaving only cold rage. My life was already over, so I decided to set the whole game on fire myself. The marriage pact only said a Carlson had to marry a Moreno; it never said which one. With nothing left to lose, I looked past the pathetic boys they offered. I chose the one man they never expected. I chose his father, the Don himself.

I was three days away from marrying the Underboss of the Fazio crime family when I unlocked his burner phone. The screen glowed toxic bright in the dark next to my sleeping fiancé. A message from a contact saved as 'Little Trouble' read: "She is just a statue, Dante. Come back to bed." Attached was a photo of a woman lying in the sheets of his private office, wearing his shirt. My heart didn't break; it simply stopped. For eight years, I believed Dante was the hero who pulled me from a burning opera house. I played the perfect, loyal Mafia Princess for him. But heroes don't give their mistresses rare pink diamonds while giving their fiancées cubic zirconia replicas. He didn't just cheat. He humiliated me. He defended his mistress over his own soldiers in public. He even abandoned me on the side of the road on my birthday because she faked a pregnancy emergency. He thought I was weak. He thought I would accept the fake ring and the disrespect because I was just a political pawn. He was wrong. I didn't cry. Tears are for women who have options. I had a strategy. I walked into the bathroom and dialed a number I hadn't dared to call in a decade. "Speak," a voice like gravel growled on the other end. Lorenzo Moretti. The Capo of the rival family. The man my father called the Devil. "The wedding is off," I whispered, staring at my reflection. "I want an alliance with you, Enzo. And I want the Fazio family burned to the ground."

What's more embarrassing than a butt dial? Butt dialing your boss... And leaving a dirty voicemail when you're uhh... "thinking" about them. Working as Ruslan Oryolov's personal assistant is the job from hell. After a long day spent tending to the billionaire's every whim, I need some stress relief. So when I get home that night, that's exactly what I do. Problem is, my thoughts are still stuck on the bosshole who's ruining my life. That's fine-because of all Ruslan's many sins, being gorgeous might be the most dangerous. Tonight, fantasies of him are just what I need to push me over the edge. But when I look down at my phone squished next to me, There it is. A voicemail for 7 minutes and 32 seconds... Sent to Ruslan Oryolov. I panic and throw my phone across the room. But there is no undoing the damage done by my very vocal O. So what can I do? My plan was to just avoid him and act like it never happened. Besides, no one that busy checks their voicemails, right? But when he schedules a one-on-one meeting with me for exactly 7 minutes and 32 seconds, One thing is for certain: He. Heard. Everything.

My eyes struggled open, but a heavy weight held them shut. I was paralyzed, trapped in a cold hospital room, the rhythmic beep of a heart monitor a cruel reminder of my mother's death. I, Elena Vitiello, who controlled everything, was now helpless, reduced to a slab of meat. Then I heard his footsteps. Dante. My husband, my anchor. But his voice was chillingly devoid of warmth as he ordered, "Do not increase the dosage. I will not risk damaging the organ's viability." The organ. My mind went blank, ice filling my veins. Trapped and unable to move, I realized Dante saw me only as a "political placeholder," never loving me. He was having my kidney removed, carved from my body like livestock, to save his mistress, Sofia-the woman whose messes I'd cleaned for ten years. His hand, usually my comfort, smeared away my tear with sheer disgust. The scalpel tore into my flesh, a blinding, white-hot agony. Every tug and pull hollowed me out, stripping away my potential, my love, my future. How could the man I bled for reduce me to a mere object, a spare part for his true love? The sheer insult of it fueled a volcanic rage. As my kidney was lifted out, the final illusion of our marriage shattered completely. My fear dissolved, replaced by a chilling, absolute calm. The darkness that embraced me was not defeat, but the coiling silence of a viper preparing to strike. This kidney was not a sacrifice. It was the down payment for Dante Moretti's life.

I stood outside my husband's study, the perfect mafia wife, only to hear him mocking me as an "ice sculpture" while he entertained his mistress, Aria. But the betrayal went deeper than infidelity. A week later, my saddle snapped mid-jump, leaving me with a shattered leg. Lying in the hospital bed, I overheard the conversation that killed the last of my love. My husband, Alessandro, knew Aria had sabotaged my gear. He knew she could have killed me. Yet, he told his men to let it go. He called my near-death experience a "lesson" because I had bruised his mistress's ego. He humiliated me publicly, freezing my accounts to buy family heirlooms for her. He stood by while she threatened to leak our private tapes to the press. He destroyed my dignity to play the hero for a woman he thought was a helpless orphan. He had no idea she was a fraud. He didn't know I had installed micro-cameras throughout the estate while he was busy pampering her. He didn't know I had hours of footage showing his "innocent" Aria sleeping with his guards, his rivals, and even his staff, laughing about how easy he was to manipulate. At the annual charity gala, in front of the entire crime family, Alessandro demanded I apologize to her. I didn't beg. I didn't cry. I simply connected my drive to the main projector and pressed play.

I was the dutiful wife of Julian, a ruthless Capo in the Chicago Syndicate. Six months ago, my convoy was ambushed by a rival cartel. While I lay bleeding out on the cold floor of the car, my husband was on the phone with his mistress, Mia. "Lock your doors, stay inside," he told her, never once asking if I was alive. I survived, only to watch him flaunt his betrayal. He brought his mistress into our home, booked her luxury suites in Tokyo, and bought her massive diamonds with Syndicate funds. When I refused to play the part of his obedient, blind wife, he publicly humiliated me and orchestrated rumors to isolate me. He thought I was just collateral, a powerless figurehead he could control and eventually discard to settle his debts. I had endured this loveless marriage to survive in the family, yet he treated me worse than dirt while elevating a mistress who knew nothing of our world. I was suffocating in a cage of neglect, enraged by the audacity of a coward who broke every sacred vow. So, I took off my vulgar wedding ring and left it on his bathroom sink. I picked up my phone and sent a message to Dante Falcone, the exiled heir who had stitched my flesh back together in secret. This time, I chose to burn my husband's empire to the ground.

For seven years, I was the architect of my fiancé's criminal empire and the strategist behind his every move. I was Dante Gallo’s unofficial Consigliere, his partner in everything but name. Tomorrow, I was finally supposed to marry him and take my place as the queen to his throne. But on the eve of our wedding, a single text message sent by mistake detonated my life. It was a photo from Dante, showing a platinum wedding band on his hand. The message read: “Married this morning. She’s safe now.” My gaze fell to the engagement ring on my own finger. It was the identical band, just smaller. The engraved initials ‘D.I.’ didn’t stand for Dante and I. They stood for Dante and Isabella—his childhood sweetheart. My entire relationship was a lie; I was just a shield to protect his one true love. He dismissed my discovery as a "tantrum." Then, his new bride began taunting me, sending a picture of them tangled in bedsheets with the caption: "Loser." They expected me to break. They thought I would shatter. They were about to find out just how wrong they were. I forwarded the picture to Isabella’s fiancé, a man far more dangerous than Dante. "Your fiancée is in Suite 8808 at the Grand Hyatt," I told him. "I'll meet you downstairs. We're going to crash their party."

As I lay in the cold underground clinic, terminating the unborn heir of the city's most feared mafia underboss, my phone lit up. My fiancé of seven years had just publicly pledged his protection and a home-cooked meal to his ex-lover, moments after telling me to risk a deadly ambush by ordering takeout. When I returned to our penthouse, bleeding and broken, he didn't even notice. He gave my specialized prenatal milk to his ex because she had a "delicate stomach," leaving me only a hollowed-out egg white and dry crusts. When I begged him to stay, he violently kicked my packed suitcase across the marble floor. "Elena's medical needs take priority right now," he snapped, rushing out because his ex felt cold. He even blocked my secure number when I frantically tried to reach him one last time. For seven years, we had built an empire together. I couldn't understand how a past flame playing the fragile doe could make him discard my life and our child's existence so callously, treating me like worthless scraps. Sitting in the empty penthouse, I wiped my tears and opened the global Syndicate network. "My betrothal to Vincent is officially dissolved. Act accordingly." I powered down my phone, grabbed my tactical gear, and boarded a private jet to leave his territory forever.

My marriage to Joshua Caldwell was a prison sentence. I was a Hartman trophy, sold to the powerful family who had destroyed mine. Then I discovered he was cheating. His mistress was pregnant with the child he denied me, and he was stealing my secret song lyrics to build her career. When I confronted him, he called me a spineless liability and threatened to destroy what was left of my family. To make matters worse, a one-night stand with a stranger turned out to be with my husband's brother, Anthony Caldwell-the Don of the city. He knew all of Joshua's secrets and used them to trap me in a twisted game, seeing me as nothing more than an asset. They both thought I was a broken doll they could control. I wrote a song for his mistress, a beautiful execution with a single, impossible note I knew would destroy her voice. She sang it, and now her career is over. Now the Don has summoned me to Chicago, not knowing the woman he thinks is his asset is the one who just burned his brother's world to the ground.

The moment I saw my husband massaging his dead brother's pregnant mistress's feet, I knew my marriage was over. He moved her into our home under the guise of "family duty," forcing me to watch as he prioritized her comfort over our vows. The final betrayal came when she stole and deliberately broke my mother's priceless necklace. When I slapped her for the desecration, my husband struck me across the face to defend her. He had violated a sacred honor code by putting his hands on the daughter of another Don-an act of war. I looked him in the eye and swore on my mother's grave that I would bring a bloody revenge upon his entire family. Then I made one phone call to my father, and the demolition of his empire began.