Annette Vasquez is broken and desperate to talk to Ryan, her ex-boyfriend who broke up with her a month ago. When an intimidating man appears on her door dressed in all blacks, she runs for cover and sends Ryan a text for help. Vicente Di Alberto is the Don of the Italian Mafia, cold, ruthless and untouchable. A strange message pops up on his phone which has him acting on impulse. He hates men who hurts women and he is ready to save and protect the woman calling for his help. Rescued by a sinfully handsome man, Ann feels safe around him until she finds out his real identity and also finds herself married accidentally to the most feared man in Italy. She wants out but Vicente is ready to use the accidental marriage to his advantage.
Los Angeles
Ann's POV
Help
This is pure deceit, but I couldn't care less. I watch the message tick sent before grabbing the bottle of vodka and gulping it all down, hoping it will help drown out all my thoughts.
Help
I send again, this time with desperation and frustration tugging at my heart.
When I watch the message go, my heart crashes against my chest at the realization.
He wouldn't reply to me. He would never reply.
He is probably somewhere with his bride-to-be, having the time of his life, while I am here, in nothing but a bathrobe, drowning myself in alcohol in a cheap hotel close to his apartment.
We were here once, when he claimed he had friends over at his apartment, three months ago. I was suspicious, but his sweet words overruled my suspicions.
When a hot tear slips through my cheek, I wipe it away quickly, remembering the vow I made.
I won't cry for him anymore.
I won't beg him anymore.
And I won't fight for us anymore.
He isn't worth it anyway.
But why do I keep feeling this burning sensation in my chest? Why does it feel like my lungs are short of air? Why do I find it difficult to forget him and all the joyful memories we've shared? Why do I keep hoping he will come back and apologize to me so I can take him back without hesitation?
He is not worth it.
Before grabbing the next bottle of alcohol, I dump the empty bottle on the stool in front of me.
The burning hits my throat, and I let out a whimper. It doesn't stop me from downing the liquid until I'm halfway through.
I slam the bottle on the stool and shoot to my feet.
I won't cry. I would rather sink myself in a bathtub or drown myself in alcohol until dawn than cry for that selfish, egoistic bastard.
I won't let him get to me.
When I sway on my way to the bed, I realize I am drunk and my thoughts are messed up.
I laugh. Like a maniac.
When I sober up, I twirl around to grab the rest of the bottle so I can continue drinking while bathing, just in time to hear a knock at the door.
Ryan?
Is that you?
Hastily, I rush over to the door to see if he is there.
Pulling it open, I see no one at the doorway. I step forward and look down the hallway to see a man's back to me. He is wearing black pants and a sweater with a hoodie.
I can't see his face.
When he turns around, our eyes meet, and I realize he is covering every part of his face with a mask, leaving only his eyes.
I shake my head.
This isn't Ryan.
When he takes a step forward, terror slices through me, and I back away. Ryan doesn't wear black. Ryan wouldn't disguise. Ryan can't even be here.
Who is this?
An intruder? A thief?
For a moment, I regret my impulsive decision to stay in a cheap hotel like this. There are no guards or cameras in sight.
This is probably a thief, going from door to door to see if he can get in and cart away some valuable possessions.
He continues to step closer, and I find myself turning around and rushing inside before slamming the door shut.
Panic courses through me, and my eyes widen in fear, my drunkenness gone in a flash, even though my steps are still flattered.
Ryan. I need you now.
Perhaps I shouldn't have pretended to be in need of his help. Now I need it, and I have no one to call for help.
With my hands full, I kick open the bathroom door, rush in, and securely lock it behind me.
I drop the bottle and begin to type furiously on my phone.
You jerk, I f**king need your help! I am in that cheap hotel close to Austin Avenue. There is an intruder in here. Just help this once, and I promise never to bother you again. Pick up the fucking call or come help me. Goddammit!"
Unable to continue with my inner rambling, I tap on the send button, and it successfully delivers. With raw hope, I watch the message tick and turn green.
I almost jump up in excitement when he reads the message. And I wait.
Stamping my feet and trying desperately to ignore the raw devastation streaming through me, I continue to wait for him to type back and send a reply.
I need someone to reassure me that everything is well.
Our lives were so beautiful and filled with happy moments, and we thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives together.
I believed he was meant to be mine, and I was meant to be his.
But he left. He left me for her. Because his parents wanted her. He left me.
Because I was extremely mad at him when he told me about his decision to marry that woman instead, I blocked him everywhere.
I blacklisted him.
He'd never be able to reach me, and I wouldn't either.
Until last night.
I unblocked him and tried calling him, but to no avail. Which is why I am sending him these texts, just to get his attention.
When something crashes in the distance, I scoot backwards in fear.
My biggest fear is about to come to realization.
Betrayed by the man I love more than life itself is not my biggest fear.
My biggest fear isn't about losing all the privileges of being in a relationship with a man who promised to get me the job of my dreams.
My biggest fear isn't about living life in misery.
My greatest fear is becoming a victim of sexual assault. Left broken and beyond repair. It awakens memories I thought I had long buried-my near-rape experience.
When a bang hits the bathroom door, I squat backward and fall on my buttocks with a scream piercing through my throat.
My breathing becomes hard as I watch the door being banged from outside.
The stranger wants to get in. If he was here to steal, he wouldn't bother to come after me. And that explains only one thing.
He wants to take advantage of me or get rid of me.
Perhaps he thought I saw his face and that getting rid of me was the best course of action.
How did he even know I was in here?
Waving the silly thoughts running through my head away, I rise up again, determined to escape being raped or killed in a strange neighborhood. I glance around to find a weapon, or at least a shield.
I don't mind escaping him and running out onto the streets in nothing but my bathrobe. I just want to escape this.
My eyes catch the toilet brush, which is the only thing present I can use as a weapon.
I grab hold of it and almost begin to cry when it dawns on me that this can't hurt him.
I can't escape.
He would kill me.
I don't deserve this.
With horror and the brush still raised in my hand, the door finally breaks down, giving me a view of the stranger whose face is still hidden.
We stare at each other for a second before he stalks forward, and I summon up enough courage to hit him with the brush, a shout leaving my mouth.
He yanks at my hand, and the brush falls to the ground. He spins me around, causing a wave of dizziness to wash over me, and then he pushes me to the floor, revealing my thighs as my robe rolls upward.
His eyes leave mine and settle on the exposed thigh.
I am right. This man is a rapist.
Get up, Ann. Do something. Hit him in the groin and run out. Slap him hard on the face so you can get your pepper spray.
Suddenly, I remember the bottle of wine. It isn't empty but I can make do with it. I turn my face to see it is inches away from me.
I make an effort to stand up, but he strandles me, as though he could hear and read through me.
His hands pin mine to the floor as I continue to struggle with him. I can't raise any of my legs to hit him, either. He is very strong and determined to rape me.
"Get off me, you jerk! What do you want?!" I yell in frustration, wanting to try my luck at negotiating with him.
He lets out a sardonic chuckle and starts to rub his hands on my thighs.
I shut my eyes, shame coloring my face.
"Open your eyes," he mutters, making me flutter my eyes open slowly. "Watch me."
A low whimper leaves my mouth. I want to beg him. I want to tell him that I can give him every single gift that jerk gave me, just to make him think twice about raping me.
But I can't find my voice.
Suddenly, a surge of energy fills me up as he takes his hand off me, giving me the chance to lean up and kick his groin with my knee.
A groan leaves his mouth, and I hurry to my feet.
Just then, a gunshot rings out nearby, making me scoot backward as the rapist looks towards the living room, fear in his eyes.
When the shot rings again, my mind reels back to the text I sent to Ryan. Is he here to save me? Where did he get a gun from?
What is happening?
As soon as I see him eyeing the door, I sprint towards it, determined to stop him.
Ryan could be here to assist me. To save me from this jerk.
I need to do my part.
He rushes at me, and I punch his face, making him stumble back, surprise in his eyes. I signal to him to come closer. And I ball my fist for another punch.
Pure rage fills his eyes.
When he takes a step forward, I attempt to strike him from a distance, but he pulls me closer to him before throwing to the ground.
I force back a wince.
With our hands interlocked, I yank him closer to me before shoving the mask off.
Horror mixed with disbelief slices through me when I see his face.
Carter.
Before I can process what I just saw and say something, he runs out, leaving me sprawled on the floor with tears rolling down my eyes.
Instead of sitting up, I start to cry until his hurried footsteps fade out.
Claire thought she had everything figured out. After discovering that another woman was pregnant with her husband's child, she made up her mind-she was done with Xandros. Armed with divorce papers, she walked out of his life, ready to take control of her own future. But what she didn't expect was for Xandros to let her go so easily. Then everything went dark. When Claire woke up in a hospital with no memory of how she got there, she's stunned to learn from her friend, Quinn, that she's married to Xandros-and that she's just ended their marriage the night before. But there's more-her father won't say a word about who Xandros really was. What happened to her? Why was she divorcing him? And what exactly did Xandros do to ruin her so completely? With nothing but a blurry past and a dangerous need for revenge, Claire is determined to reclaim her memory and get back at the man who betrayed her-even if she's carrying his babies.
Andrea Silva was forced to marry her twin sister’s supposed boyfriend after her twin sister, Camila Silva ran away. Andrea was deeply heartbroken when she found out the man she had just wedded was in love with her sister and she was just a substitute till Camila was back. Andrea thought she could make Damine Fel fall for her but what would happens when her sister comes back and want her boyfriend back? What would happen when her husband forced her to agree to a divorce? What would happen when she found out she was pregnant for him but he didn’t want anything to do with her?
Arabella finds out she is pregnant with a child for her husband, Richard Giodano. She wants to inform him about it when she hears him speaking on the phone with Eve Rogers, his ex-lover. Because of Eve's arrival back into the states, Richard wants a divorce. That has always been the plan until he finds Eve cheating on him with his best friend. Five years later, they bump into each other at a party and Richard finds out his ex-wife is not only back with a child but is also a hot sexy CEO of Eagle Homes and Interiors. Even when she pretends not to know him, he vows to stop at nothing to chase after and win her back.
When Valerie Adams gets to know that she is betrothed to the youngest billionaire in New York, just to save her father's dying company, it is two nights after she caught her boyfriend cheating on her with her best friend. She is upset with the news of the betrothal and becomes more pissed when she finally meets him. Ryan Lorenzo is the most arrogant, pompous, and cold-hearted guy she will ever cross paths with. He is less interested in keeping a woman but what he needs is a wife to satisfy his parent's desires for him to be married and considered responsible. Valerie decides to take advantage of the situation, to save her father's company and to make her cheating boyfriend jealous. She suggests a CONTRACT for their marriage and Ryan is making the RULES.
When Jasmine Cooper runs into a drunk rapist, a man saves her. It is Xavier Ravarivelo, the billionaire Mafia whose bride left him at the altar. Jasmine Cooper looks just like his run-away bride, Andre, who was being forced to walk down the aisles with Xavier. Jasmine has the same look and tattoo as Andre but different hair color and personality. Taking her against her will; he forces her to marry him. He wants revenge for the humiliation he got after his supposed bride left him at the altar but Jasmine is hell-ass sure she never abandoned anyone at the altar. How will Xavier find out that Jasmine is different from his runaway bride? How long will it take for Xavier to note the difference between Jasmine and Andre?
"He is not yours!" She affirms with a confident and unwavering look. "Whose child is he, then?" I question, my eyes wandering to the boy with piercing blue eyes like mine. Celine narrows her eyes with her hands clenched. "He is mine!" "What about his father? Who is he?" I drop my hands lazily and watch her intensely. "That is none of your business." She says defensively. "It means he is mine and I am taking him", I conclude with a smile and walk past her to pick up the child who is already dozing off. "No, no, no!" Celine chants, blocking my way. "Please, don't take him. I beg you!" **** After realizing she was pregnant which was not part of the deal she made with Billionaire Bryan Martinez, Celine left his mansion before the end of the contract. When they meet again and he discovered the secret she was hiding from him, he decided to punish her by taking custody of the child. What will happen when the baby wants his mother close to him? Will this reunion blossom the love between them before her departure? How sweet will Bryan's revenge be for Celine?
After hiding her true identity throughout her three-year marriage to Colton, Allison had committed wholeheartedly, only to find herself neglected and pushed toward divorce. Disheartened, she set out to rediscover her true self-a talented perfumer, the mastermind of a famous intelligence agency, and the heir to a secret hacker network. Realizing his mistakes, Colton expressed his regret. "I know I messed up. Please, give me another chance." Yet, Kellan, a once-disabled tycoon, stood up from his wheelchair, took Allison's hand, and scoffed dismissively, "You think she'll take you back? Dream on."
She thought she was the love of his life, and he became the love of her life that fateful day she had seen him at the pack's party. Selene Grace was only a replica of Alpha Leo's real mate, and when he spotted her, Leo immediately claimed her as his Luna in order to suppress the rumors of him being mateless. Being unable to conceive turns Selene's marriage into a nightmare, and as if that wasn't enough, Alpha Leo finally reunites with his long time lover and mate, rejecting a pregnant Selene as a result. 5 years later, Selene, a now successful doctor, receives an invitation to the moon shadow pack in order to rid the pack of a deadly disease which has struck it. Will Selene return back to the pack which had caused her so much pain, and what would she do when she realizes that she is mated to the Alpha who had betrayed her in the past?
"I heard you're going to marry Marcelo. Is this perhaps your revenge against me? It's very laughable, Renee. That man can barely function." Her foster family, her cheating ex, everyone thought Renee was going to live in pure hell after getting married to a disabled and cruel man. She didn't know if anything good would ever come out of it after all, she had always thought it would be hard for anyone to love her but this cruel man with dark secrets is never going to grant her a divorce because she makes him forget how to breathe.
Belinda thought after divorce, they would part ways for good - he could live his life on his own terms, while she could indulge in the rest of hers. However, fate had other plans in store. "My darling, I was wrong. Would you please come back to me?" The man, whom she once loved deeply, lowered his once proud head humbly. "I beg you to return to me." Belinda coldly pushed away the bouquet of flowers he had offered her and coolly replied, "It's too late. The bridge has been burned, and the ashes have long since scattered to the wind!"
Rosalynn's marriage to Brian wasn't what she envisioned it to be. Her husband, Brian, barely came home. He avoided her like a plague. Worse still, he was always in the news for dating numerous celebrities. Rosalynn persevered until she couldn't take it anymore. She upped and left after filing for a divorce. Everything changed days later. Brian took interest in a designer that worked for his company anonymously. From her profile, he could tell that she was brilliant and dazzling. He pulled the stops to find out her true identity. Little did he know that he was going to receive the greatest shocker of his life. Brian bit his finger with regret when he recalled his past actions and the woman he foolishly let go.
For as long as Emily can remember, she has wanted to overcome her shyness and explore her sexuality. Still, everything changes when she receives an invitation to visit one of the town's most prestigious BDSM clubs, DESIRE'S DEN. On the day she chose to peruse the club, she noticed three men, all dressed in suits, standing on the upper level, near the railing. Despite her limited vision, she persisted in fixating on them. Their towering statues belied the toned bodies concealed by their sharply tailored suits-or so she could tell. The hair of two of them was short and dark, and the third had light brown-possibly blond-hair that reached the shoulders. The dark, crimson background incised their figures, exuding an air of mystery and strength. They stood in stark contrast to the unfiltered, primal energy that pulsed through the club. Shocked by the desires these men aroused in her, she was disappointed to learn that they were masters seeking a slave to divide and conquer. She couldn't afford the fee, and she also realized that they were outside her league. Emily hurriedly left the club, feeling disappointed and depressed, unaware that she had also caught the group's attention. A world of wicked pleasure, three handsome men. Over the years, they have lived a life of decadence, their lavish lair serving as a stage for their most sinister desires. But despite the unending parade of willing subjects, one woman sticks out. A mysterious stranger with white porcelain skin and a killer body, a slave, a name with no address, the first lady to attract their eye and they will go to any length to obtain her no matter the consequences.