Blaliy
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Whispers Of Retribution
Romance TAYLOR MACKENZIE
At first, I wanted to run away from my life, but I met him, Diego Salvatore. He trained me, helped me become stronger so I could avenge those who hurt me. At first it was clearly business until that night. And now, I want more nights with him, more days with him. This wasn't right, it'll drift me from my vengeance journey, but Diego Salvatore was my man, my very own. However, I'm torn between my hatred towards his father who caused I and my father pain, and his love for me. What's it going to be? Love sex or revenge?
DIEGO SALVATORE.
Taylor was just a nanny, a fucking nanny but somehow she's managed to cloud my thoughts, my visions, my mind and most importantly, my life.
I was drunk that day and she walked in, playing her servant duties and yes I felt like having a woman by my side, she seemed to coorporate and we had sex. It was sex, everyone does it. However, Taylor was different. She felt different, tasted different.
It was supposed to end there but it didn't, I wanted more with her, I wanted so badly to be inside her, over and over. It's fucking killing me, Taylor will be the end of me, but she's just a nanny, why does her presence makes me horny? Maybe she was bought by my father but she's mine and I wouldn't let anyone near or hurt her, not even my own father....
WHISPERS OF RETRIBUTION.
Copyright 2024. Blaliy Lilian
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written consent of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are used fictitiously and are a product of the author's imagination.
Note: This book contains explicit sex scenes and is not suitable for readers below 18. Romance And Medicine
Romance The sound of metal scraping against metal jolted me awake. My eyes fluttered open, but I was met with darkness, my surroundings unfamiliar.
Panic surged through my veins as I realized I was in the backseat of a car, my hands tied behind my back.
I recalled what happened earlier, the note. I was still on the red gown, it was all a lie. Who would want to hurt me, who exactly?
Frantically, I wriggled against the restraints behind me, the knots biting into my skin.
I needed to call for help, anyone at all. "Help!" I screamed, my voice echoing in the confined space. But there was no response, only the eerie silence of my captivity.
Suddenly, the car rumbled to life. My heart raced. What was happening?
I couldn't think as I kicked at the door, desperate to escape, but it wouldn't budge. Tears welled in my eyes as the realization dawned upon me, I might die.
"Please no, no God," I wept, my tears mixing with my makeup but I didn't care, my life was more important. My cries grew louder, more desperate, but still, no one came to my aid, not like it was their fault, because the last thing I could remember was the park, how did I get to God knows where.
More fear consumed me as the car lurched forward, where was it taking me?
Suddenly, the car came to a halt, and my eyes widened in horror. I looked around and realized where I was—the junkyard.
The air was thick with the stench of rust and decay as the car was lifted into the air by a massive crane, heading straight for the crusher.
My world came to a momentary stop. "No! Please, no!" I screamed, my voice raw with terror. I thrashed against my bonds, but it was futile.
"God, no.. please!" More tears streamed down my cheeks as the walls of the car began to close in around me.
My screams reached a deafening pitch as the car crusher began to crush the vehicle. I was inside it. I pounded on the windows, my cries echoing through the empty yard, but there was no one to hear me, no one to save me. The sound of metal groaning and collapsing around me only added to the horror of the moment, and I cried out in anguish, the fear and helplessness consuming me.
I gave up, I had to, there was no point. Amidst the chaos around me, I could only think of one person. Dr. Nick, how on Earth would he find me?
"Oh, God."
Suddenly, a familiar voice shattered the silence. "Jasmin!" it cried out.
And once again, he came for me. Tears filled my eyes as I watched him run towards the car. The crusher might finish what's left of me before he even got to me.
I shut my eyes close as tears flowed down my eyes. Our love was like Medicine mixed with few drops of Romance.....
SOLD TO THE MAFIA KING.
Romance As we reached the main road, my father stopped, seemingly waiting for someone.
"Papa, why are we here?" I questioned, my voice trembling.
"Be quiet, Aria. You ask too many questions," he replied, refusing to meet my gaze.
"Papa?" I called out, concerned as I noticed his trembling hands and perspiring brow. He turned to face me, his eyes filled with anxiety. "What's wrong?" I asked, my worry intensifying. He seemed worn out and stressed, as if he might collapse at any moment.
"Aria," he began, but his sentence was cut short by the squealing of tires approaching us. Not just one car, but two... no, three. Before I could comprehend what was happening, we were surrounded.
The door of the Lamborghini Huracán swung open, and a tall man stepped out. I found myself gaping at him before a black sack was forcefully placed over my head. I struggled, kicking and fighting, but then I heard a distinct click.
"Do anything stupid, and Francesco dies..."
"Francesco? That was my father... my own father..." I tried to calm myself, even though not entirely successfully, as I was thrown into a car. The journey began, and with the sack still covering my face, I had no idea where they were taking me. When the sack was finally removed, I found myself standing before Alessandro Genovese...
SOLD TO THE MAFIA KING
Copyright 2023. Blaliy Lilian.A.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written consent of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are used fictitiously and are a product of the author's imagination.
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"Take off your dress, Meadow."
"Why?"
"Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost."
••••*••••*••••*
Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance.
One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring.
Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel.
He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch.
Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed.
She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge.
But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming.
Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything.
Alaric doesn't share what's his.
Not his company.
Not his wife.
And definitely not his vengeance.
My Husband's Blindness, My Sweet Revenge
Rabbit The roasted lamb was cold, a reflection of her marriage. On their third anniversary, Evelyn Vance waited alone in her Manhattan penthouse. Then her phone buzzed: Alexander, her husband, had been spotted leaving the hospital, holding his childhood sweetheart Scarlett Sharp's hand.
Alexander arrived hours later, dismissing Evelyn's quiet complaint with a cold reminder: she was Mrs. Vance, not a victim. Her mother's demands reinforced this role, making Evelyn, a brilliant mind, feel like a ghost. A dangerous indifference replaced betrayal. The debt was paid; now, it was her turn.
She drafted a divorce settlement, waiving everything. As Alexander's tender voice drifted from his study, speaking to Scarlett, Evelyn placed her wedding ring on his pillow, moved to the guest suite, and locked the door. The dull wife was gone; the Oracle was back. After Divorce: My Arrogant Ex Regrets Calling Me Trash
Rabbit Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his ""eligible bachelor"" status to the world.
In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a ""trailer park girl"" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his ""grief.""
But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius.
Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive ""free"" could be. He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him
Rabbit The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her.
Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. ""Mr. Kensington,"" the nurse's voice cracked, ""your wife... she's critical."" A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. ""Liam is in the shower,"" Seraphina's voice purred. ""Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low."" Then, Liam's bored voice: ""If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning."" Click. The line went dead.
A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living.
Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body.
Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back. After Exposing My Identity, My Ruthless Husband Begged for Love
Rabbit Sienna Sullivan entered the penthouse not as a bride, but as a business transaction to pay off her family's debts. Manhattan's most ruthless billionaire, Julian Vanderbilt, expected a submissive wife, but he purchased a woman who was secretly a global fashion icon and a lethal operative. When he finally tried to lock her in a gilded cage to "protect" her, Sienna didn't just walk away-she jumped from his moving Rolls-Royce to reclaim her own crown.
The arrangement was a psychological prison. Julian paraded fake heroines in her face, never realizing Sienna was the "Ghost," the soldier who had already saved his life in a war zone years ago. While she bled in the shadows to keep his empire from crumbling, he dismissed her as a mousy tutor.
The humiliation was absolute as her family mocked her as a "charity case" and Julian treated her like a fragile doll. He ignored the warrior who was the true power behind his throne, choosing to prioritize his own secrets over her safety.
She realized Julian didn't want a partner; he wanted a possession to hide in a vault. The discovery that he would never trust the woman beneath the mask was the final betrayal. He only loved the version of her he could control.
Sienna finally chose to burn the bridge. After neutralizing an assassin in a designer gown, she tossed her wedding ring into a puddle and vanished into the night. She wasn't running from the fire; she was going back to the desert to finish the war. The Queen has left the board, and the King is coming for blood. The 100-Point Divorce Plan
Gavin For three years, I documented the slow death of my marriage in a black journal. It was my 100-point divorce plan: for every time my husband, Blake, chose his first love, Ariana, over me, I deducted points. When the score hit zero, I would leave.
The final points vanished the night he left me bleeding out from a car crash. I was eight weeks pregnant with the child we had prayed for.
In the ER, the nurses frantically called him-the star surgeon of the very hospital I was dying in.
"Dr. Santos, we have a Jane Doe, O-negative, bleeding out. She's pregnant, and we're about to lose them both. We need you to authorize an emergency blood transfer."
His voice came over the speaker, cold and impatient.
"I can't. My priority is Miss Whitfield. Do what you can for the patient, but I can't divert anything right now."
He hung up. He condemned his own child to death to ensure his ex-girlfriend had resources on standby after a minor procedure.