1164 Book(s) Related to fiona and lord farquaad wedding

Lorenzo McLaren is an underground Mafia Lord who controls New York City. He does whatever he wants and gets away with it.
Mariana Martinez is a college student whose life is turned upside down when she is kidnapped and sold into a Mafia ring. She refuses to give up and accepts the life before her, fighting and looking for ways to escape. But her defiance is cut short when it grabs the attention of Lorenzo. Mariana falls first, but Lorenzo falls harder.
Will Mariana be able to ignore her morals and love Lorenzo even with his dark side? And will Lorenzo have to sacrifice his empire for the woman he loves?

“Don’t make me repeat myself twice, part those legs for me, Bunny.” His deep voice which always sends my brain reeling due to how silky it sounds, washed over me slowly as he murmured quietly against my throat.

I tried to point out to him that there was no way I’d be able to do as told with his legs still pinning mine down, but the words died down in my throat when he sucked the skin over my beating pulse into his mouth.

“Go on. You want to be good for me, don’t you?”

“I— I do.” I choked out, letting out a breathy whimper when he wrapped his free hand around my throat and squeezed on it a little.

———

Forced to marry the ruthless mafia lord, whom everyone was afraid of at the age of eighteen, Sofia had no other choice but to follow her father’s wishes like a dutiful daughter was supposed to. While Luca Ricci only took a wife, because he wasn’t getting any younger at the age of thirty-three.

She was the angel to his demons, the light to his darkness, the innocence to his sins… He wanted to protect her, since the moment he locked eyes with hers on their wedding day and saw the amount of fright brewing in it.

He wanted to make her good for him, to mark her as his; with his handprints on her ass and his cum dripping off her face. To own her completely, to wrap his hand around her throat and do so many sinful things to her body.

But he was the mafia lord, and danger just seems to be lurking around him, wherever he goes, and in whatever he does.

He must protect his wife at all costs.

“Can you lick me down there? Please?” Her voice shook as she asked that question and I was almost burying my lips where it was wanted the most but I wanted to hear more from her.

“Where?”

“There,” She whispered breathlessly. I grinned a little, this shy vixen was going to become bold and demanding when I got completely done with her body, which unfortunately couldn’t be today since there wasn’t much time left anymore.

I’ve got to admit that seeing her face grow hot in embarrassment and her hips lift up the bed uncontrollably was turning my blood into fire, and those whimpers of hers would be the death of me.

———

Orphaned at a young age along with his siblings, Auden is an irresistibly hot billionaire with a dark past, and a future that isn’t certain. Family, to Auden, meant everything– and when a trail from his past ended up disrupting his family unexpectedly, he had no choice but to bring the big guns out.

A life filled with Guns, knives and heartless excuses for humans, is what Aria unknowingly got herself into, and now she has no other choice than to be on a wild run with Auden or get killed in the blink of an eye.

It was reckless and crazy, extremely dangerous and life threatening, but then love sometimes chooses to bloom in unexpected situations.

Getting cheated on by my hockey-player boyfriend of two years was humiliating.

Finding him with my sworn enemy meant war.

So, when I cross paths with Zane Hunter, the campus's untouchable biker and king of the underground racing scene, I make a deal I know I should regret.

Fake-date him.

It was supposed to be simple. Revenge on my ex. No feelings attached. No complications.

Until our fake relationship goes viral.

Suddenly, everyone is watching us, and Zane's enemies are watching me.

The closer I get to him, the more I realize the dangerous biker everyone fears has secrets he'd kill to protect.

And somehow, I've become one of them.

I thought I was using Zane for revenge.

I never expected to become the one thing he'd destroy everything to protect.

We both had one rule.

NO FEELINGS ATTACHED.

Somehow, we both broke it.

"They didn't just kill your men, Rhen. They built you from their ashes."

Captain Rhen Marek woke on a field of his brothers' corpses with a System that let him raise the dead, and something ancient already wearing his grief like a key.

He marched back to the capital smiling. Playing loyal. Playing broken.

While his legion grew in the dark.

While the dead whispered things that sounded more like him every day.

While the woman who designed the massacre watched him rise, and started to doubt her ending.

Three forces are using him.

He's only found two.

In the apocalyptic wasteland, I started as nothing more than a lowly corpse-devouring bug. But after accidentally swallowing a high-tier crystal core, I was reshaped into a frail human vessel.

Those self-righteous survivors treated me as live bait to draw away the zombie hordes. After bleeding me dry and exploiting me to the absolute limit, they ruthlessly shoved me into a swarming sea of mutated corpses.

They thought they were just sacrificing a piece of trash. Little did they know, they had personally awakened the ultimate apex of cross-species evolution.

The moment I plummeted into the horde, my primal instincts fully awakened. Millions of zombies and subterranean insect swarms bowed to my command. I crushed high-tier monsters with my bare hands and used the sea of undead to steamroll heavily armored legions. With absolute, tyrannical power, I shattered the old order of the wasteland, trampling the once high-and-mighty elites into the mud.

"I'm not here to save humanity. I am merely building a suitably sized terrarium."

As countless infected formed living walls, humanity fell from their throne as the masters of Earth, reduced to nothing more than rare livestock in my captivity.

A high-dimensional ecological experiment has officially begun.

During a luxury cruise, Lydia is drugged, blacks out, and wakes in the hands of Ethan, a notorious arms dealer, the most feared name in the UK, and a whispered warning across Europe.

He catches her by the ribbon in her hair and turns her escape into a dead end, yet he never takes her life.

While everyone waits for the moment she breaks, Ethan clasps a bracelet around her wrist, a mark she never manages to remove.

"They say you'll redeem me," he murmurs, voice dangerously low as he tilts her chin up. "But I only want to lock you away forever."

He thinks he's playing a game of conquest. Instead, he's the one who surrenders. Until the day he kneels, blood on his hands, a ring held out like a confession.

"Good girl," he breathes. "Call me 'honey.' Stay with me, forever."

Today was my wedding day.
In just one hour, I would be walking down the aisle in my wedding dress toward my future husband.

"Marry me. Come now.
Sender: Landon"

My childhood sweetheart had suddenly sent me a message. Just one sentence and a location pinned on a map.

I didn't even have time to change. I rushed to the location still wearing my wedding dress.
But when I arrived, what greeted me wasn't a wedding venue, but the unbridled, mocking laughter of Landon and his buddies.

"And here I thought she had some self-respect! She actually rented a wedding dress just to throw herself at Landon?"
"Hilarious. Landon’s been playing her this whole time, and she still has zero backbone. How pathetic!"
"All Landon has to do is whistle, and she comes running, wagging her tail like a dog!"

The first thing I do with my second chance is sell off my perfect fiancé for ten million dollars.

The first time around, I became someone else for Julian Whitmore.

He likes nude-toned dresses. Hates when I wear anything with color. He won't let me have more than one glass of champagne in public. Won't let me laugh too loud. Won't let me initiate anything in bed.

His voice is always so calm, like he's correcting a disobedient pet.

I spend three years turning myself into what he wants: docile, proper, flawless. Until depression drags me under. Until that night I lay in the bathtub and watched the water turn red.

When I die, he's still downstairs in his study, editing my speech for tomorrow's charity gala.

When I open my eyes again, I'm sitting in the Winters' living room with that unsigned arrangement in front of me.

This time? Fuck perfect.

But when he lifts that veil at the wedding and realizes the bride isn't me, this man who's spent his whole life in control completely loses it.

My fiancé of five years lent the white rose greenhouse—the one we built for our wedding—to his junior for her graduation project.
"Postponing the wedding to next year won't change anything. Elara, we've been together for five years. A few more months won't matter, right?"
He was certain I couldn't live without him, expecting me to wait around for him to cash his empty promises of marriage, just like I had countless times before.
I handed over the key, my voice flat. "She can have the greenhouse. But I'm done waiting for a five-year-old promise."
He froze for a second, then his brows furrowed, assuming I was just throwing a tantrum again. "Fine, act out all you want. I'll make it up to you once I'm done with this busy period."
Until a month later, when he scrolled through his social media feed and my wedding photos popped up on his screen.
Surrounded by a sea of white roses, I was in a wedding gown, smiling radiantly.
Staring at the screen, Julian was suddenly struck by the memory of the night I handed over that key.
My best friend, Maya, had practically gritted her teeth as she asked me:
"Didn't we agree that once this garden bloomed, you'd put on your dress and be the most beautiful bride in the world? He just carelessly gave away your wedding venue with a single sentence. What does he even take you for?"
I fought back the last bit of foolish obsession in my eyes and gave her a smile. "The wedding goes on as planned."

On our wedding night, my husband confessed that he had been unfaithful with my sister.

In response, I revealed that I had murdered my stepfather.

He laughed and said, "My dear, your story is so convincingly crafted."

It was only when he discovered—

Every detail within the narrative was, indeed, a stark reality.

Including the poison that was now coursing through his veins.

Five years ago, on our wedding day, my fiancée Vivian was in the bridal suite fucking my best man.
Five years later, I returned to New York with my wife—the most powerful Mafia matriarch in Naples. At Atelier Milano, Brandon, the same "best man" who betrayed me, fawned over my custom-tailored suit, groveling to the staff about how desperately he wanted to meet the legendary Mr. Salvatore.
He had no idea...
The man he'd once written off as a pathetic loser was the very person he was now begging to impress.

blurb
Bound by Fate. Shattered by Lies.

Kathy thought finding her fated mate was the beginning of a love story blessed by the Moon Goddess. But one devastating moment changes everything—walking in on Alpha Bryson with another woman, his ex and rumored “true Luna.”

When a shocking accusation of betrayal and an impossible pregnancy test turn the pack against her, Kathy finds herself stripped of her title, her home, and her dignity. Rejected by the man destiny chose for her, humiliated by his vengeful ex, and haunted by dark memories of her past, she must fight to hold on to her truth.

In a world where loyalty is rare and power is everything, Kathy’s only way forward is to uncover the truth behind the lies… before they destroy her completely.

Darius swore that he would come back for revenge after the Hunters wiped out his entire family, and he meant it.
on Mika's eighteenth birthday, it was meant to be as usual, a frustrating day. That was Until he came.
it was meant to be easy. come in, wipe them out and leave. he was not expecting to find his mate among the people that took his own.
torn with the need to procreate to preserve his kind and the hate he feels for her kind. the love between them seems unlikely.

They sold me to pay a debt. To a monstrous mafia lord. So I walked into a club and gave my body to a stranger first. My choice. My terms.

That stranger was beautiful. Dangerous. He saw the fire in me and called it magnificent. For one night, he was my sanctuary.

Turns out, my sanctuary has a name: Matteo. And he’s not some random man. He’s the son of the monster I’m supposed to marry. He offers me his protection, his understanding, his searing touch in the shadows. I hate him. I want him. I’m falling for him. We start an affair while hiding from his father.

Here’s the kicker: there is no monster. There’s only him.

Matteo is the Don. The debt, the fear, the wedding, was all his game. He lied to cage me. He played a role to break me. He thought he could own me.

He thought wrong.

Now he’s learning the truth: you shouldn’t trap a woman who’s already been forged in fire. You shouldn’t lie to someone who can see the cracks in every painted surface. And you definitely shouldn’t fall in love with the queen you tried to make a pawn.
The marriage is real. The war is on. And this time, I’m writing the rules.

David, an ordinary man leading a monotonous life in a 9-to-5 job, found solace in the escapism of webnovels. His mundane existence took an unexpected turn when, engrossed in a new title, 'Martial War: An Epic Saga,' he succumbed to a sudden brain aneurysm.

To his bewilderment, David awoke in the very world he had been reading about, reincarnated into the unfolding narrative. The catch? He had only read the prologue, leaving his knowledge of the future blank. His second chance at life took a dark turn when he was sold to a shadowy organization that subjected him to abuse, molding him into a lethal assassin.

His salvation came unexpectedly when he was rescued by the novel's protagonist, earning a place as the protagonist's right-hand man. As their alliance flourished, David found himself entangled in a tumultuous life, culminating in a heroic but tragic end on the battlefield. His dying wish for peace remained unfulfilled as, contrary to his expectations, death did not bring respite.

Instead, David experienced an unnerving regression, returning to the womb. Determined to embrace a serene existence in his next life, he vowed to rest peacefully. Yet, the relentless hand of fate had other plans for him. Will he find the tranquility he seeks, or is destiny bound to disrupt his quest for rest once again? The journey unfolds as David navigates the unpredictable twists of his reincarnated existence.

The wife in the cryogenic chamber had only three minutes left.

I had an iron hook pierce my collarbone, and my knees shattered while kneeling at a lavish banquet. Wine glasses smashed at my feet, flashbulbs were pointed at my face, and everyone was laughing—the former war god of the North, now less than a dog.

Victor stomped on the remote control and smashed it.

When the red light of the three-minute countdown popped up, I raised my head. The sealing nails on my shoulders were blasted away by the qi, and what surged from the dark golden depths of my eyes made the entire building tremble.

He crushed over a hundred mercenaries with a single punch.

He tore open the alloy gate with his bare hands.

One hundred thousand black-armored demons knelt down from the darkness, and their commander cut off his own arm to plead guilty.

I pressed the full-frequency communication button, draped in a blood-patterned cloak: "Seven days. Make the three great empires hand over the restorative herbs. If even one herb is missing—wipe out the entire nation."

He knelt before his wife, he fought his way through the world for her. The moment she awoke was the beginning of this world paying its debt.

It was never a normal thing to walk into the mafia pulling up a body. Still, Laurel witnessed what she should not have. He was the mafia, and she could run nowhere from him. 'Tell me love, are you set right now?" He asked and I screeched my teeth together. He was getting the better of me. 'No." I said firmly and his brow rose up automatically. 'Why then, can I see your liquid all over my fancy leather?" He stared at the couch I was seated on and my eyes almost bulged out of their socket. *** Laurel Marco was petite, the perfect lady to walk into a murder seen in the late nights of august. She knew doom was next to her when she gets dragged away by the hot but scary Mafia lord. Laurel is forced to live with Silas and must stop herself from falling for his hot, sinister smile.

He was Ares, the supreme, undefeated God of War, betrayed by his fellow deities during the Great Cosmic Eclipse and left to turn to ash. But death could not hold a god. His divine soul transmigrated into the mortal realm, waking up in the body of Ares Vane—the frail, broken, and universally despised bastard son of New York’s most ruthless corporate dynasty.

Left for dead by his half-brothers and forced into a sham contract marriage with the city’s coldest corporate heiress, the original Ares Vane was a stepping stone. But the God of War plays by the laws of the jungle, not the laws of men. Armed with a reviving "War God System" fueled by absolute conflict, he begins a ruthless campaign to reclaim his apex status.

From blood-soaked underground mafia arenas to the high-stakes battlegrounds of Wall Street boardrooms, he crushes everyone who stands in his path. The arrogant young masters will kneel. The hidden supernatural syndicates will beg for mercy. And the powerful, dangerous women who rule New York's shadow factions will realize that the ultimate alpha has arrived to claim his empire.

"Where do you think you're going, huh? You're mine now, little mouse. Get back in the house."
Vincenzo's voice thundered through the cold night, sending a shiver down Victoria's spine as everything she knew collapsed beneath her feet.
On the night of her twenty-first birthday, Victoria Washington's life was destroyed—her long-term boyfriend slept with her sister, then dumped her on the eve of their wedding. Betrayed, humiliated, and stripped of her dignity, she was forced into a marriage with Vincenzo Dante Volkov, heir to Russia's most feared mafia family.
She's broken. He's a monster forged by shadows.
She trembles in fear. He claims her as if she were his salvation.
But what Victoria doesn't know is that Vincenzo has seen her before—loved her before.
Two years ago, on a lonely Californian beach, he fell for a girl with quiet eyes and a wounded soul. He never learned her name before he was dragged back to Russia.
And the day after their wedding, he realizes the truth,she is the woman who has haunted his dreams ever since.
Now, Vincenzo Dante Volkov will burn down his legacy before letting her go.
She may think this marriage lasts only a year,
but he knows one thing with terrifying certainty:
She's mine… and I'll raze the world before I lose her again.

"I don't desire her the way I desire you... like a drug addict."

That night at the Masquerade Ball changed everything. I thought I was alone in the dark bathroom, trying to fix my lipstick, when the lights suddenly went out. Panic set in, but then a heavy, hot breath brushed against my neck. I thought it was Simon.

"Back so soon?" I whispered. He didn't answer. He just gripped my waist firmly, pushing me back until my ass collided with the cold marble of the sink. He lifted me onto the edge, spreading my legs wide so his body fit perfectly between them. His rough fingers traced the wetness soaking my panties before he ripped the lace fabric apart with a savage tear.

"Simon... please," I moaned, but he silenced me with a guttural growl. He didn't say a word, just unzipped his pants and thrust into me, hard and deep. The impact made me gasp, my back arching against the mirror. Every thrust was precise, punishing, hitting that sweet spot that made my toes curl. I could feel the thick veins of his cock stretching me, filling me completely as he pounded into me with a rhythmic, animalistic need. His hot cum flooded me just as I screamed into the darkness, my body convulsing in a shattering orgasm.

But when the lights came back on... the room was empty.

Days later, I met the new owner of the jewelry empire I work for. Felix Yeats. He stared at me with those intense, dark blue eyes. "We meet again, Little Bunny," he whispered.

He wasn't Simon. The man who fucked me senseless in the dark was the most dangerous man in Chicago... and now he's my boss.


There are few things in this world more dangerous than Felix Yeats, the ruthless mafia leader who has conquered Chicago's underworld. He's a cold man who always gets what he wants, and everything is at his feet. However, there is something about him that no one knows… his lovely weakness — Isabelle Nash.

Belle is like a light in this dark world, a young woman who has just left college and knows nothing about Felix‘s reality, let alone the true colors of the man who seems so perfect.

However, one cannot change one's nature. The fall is just inevitable, and the truth is always waiting to be seen. But will Isabelle open her eyes and embrace the shadows that surround her? Or will she escape her cage and run away from Felix's sweet obsession?

At my seventh wedding, they replaced me.

The Oracle pointed at me and screamed one word: "CURSED."

Father's hand cracked across my face. Mother tore the wedding dress off my body and shoved my cousin Seraphine into it.

"She'll marry him instead," Father said. "You'll destroy us all."

What they didn't know? A thousand years ago, our family made a blood pact with the Shadow Lord himself: if the eldest Ashford daughter remained unmarried on her twenty-sixth birthday, she belonged to HIM.

Today was my twenty-sixth birthday.

I begged Julian to run. "Please. We have until sunset."

He laughed. "The Shadow Lord's a fairy tale, Anna. Seraphine's just going through the motions. You're being dramatic."

Then he told my parents everything.

They locked me in the tower.

But the Shadow High Priest's warning was clear—at sunset, the Shadow Lord would come. And when he did, I'd drink the Potion of Forgetting and lose everything.

My memories. My name. My soul.

The clock struck five.

He was coming.

Mara Vale knew how to save ruined things.

Rotten silk. Smoke-stained lace. Wedding gowns torn by jealous hands or careless lovers. In the old brick shop her mother had left her, Mara could lift a century of dirt from a veil and make every hidden stitch disappear.

But on the night of her own wedding, there was nothing she could save.

Her fiance was in the hotel bridal suite with her stepsister. Her father called her ungrateful when she refused to smile through the betrayal. By midnight, Mara had lost her groom, her family, and the deed to the shop that carried her mother's name.

Then rain drove her into a garage on the wrong side of downtown, where a dangerous young mechanic caught her before she hit the concrete.

Dante Cross smelled like motor oil, wore a dirty white tank under his coveralls, and looked at Mara as if he had been waiting eight years to find her.

Everyone thought he was poor.

Everyone was wrong.

And when Mara's enemies dragged her onto a livestream and called her a thief in front of fifty thousand strangers, the man from the garage stepped between her and the slap meant to break her.

He did not ask permission.

He simply said, "Touch her again, and find out who owns this street."

Nineteen times. That's how many times Elliot had walked out on me while we planned our wedding.

Standing in the bridal shop, he didn't even bother to sound sorry. "Cecilia, it's Vivienne. Another panic attack. She's alone—it's not safe. I have to get to her."

Margaux, my biological mother, shot me that look. "Your sister is suffocating, and you want to make this about a dress? Be the bigger person, Cecilia."

I watched him leave. No hesitation. No looking back. And for once, I didn't beg him to stay. Didn't crumble in the dressing room like I had eighteen times before.

I turned to the mirror. The bride staring back wore thousands of dollars in ivory silk. Her eyes were dead.

"Help me out of this," I told the saleswoman, whose face had gone pale. My voice came out calm. Almost pleasant. "I don't need it anymore. There won't be a wedding."

Five years ago, my ex-boyfriend Jason said coldly when he abandoned me: "Charlotte, you're not worthy of my dreams."

Five years later, when I saw him again, he had become Floreton's tech mogul while I remained a simple sculptor. His new fiancée—a wealthy heiress—sneered at my modest attire: "Someone like you can actually afford to book a top-tier wedding venue?"

She stole my venue, crushed my fingers, and forced me to kneel and apologize: "Say you don't belong here!"

Jason stood by watching coldly, just as indifferent as he was on that rainy night five years ago.

I desperately thought this was my fate, until that familiar, furious voice echoed throughout the entire venue:

"What bastard touched my woman!"

My Bradley had arrived.

This time, I would be the one laughing last.

On our wedding night, James moaned my sister's name while inside me.

I shoved him off in fury. He looked down me with contempt.

"You're just a replacement for Raina. Don't expect too much."

Later, a fake surveillance video pinned Raina's death on me.

I couldn't prove my innocence. James had me thrown into prison.

For three whole years, I endured abuse behind bars.

The day James picked me up, he tore off my clothes and forced himself inside me.

Afterward, he tossed a document at me. "Sign it."

Turns out David—his and Raina's son—had leukemia.

He wanted me to bear a child—only to sacrifice it to save the one he had with Raina?

I couldn't accept it.

A cold smirk crossed his handsome face. "Refuse? Then your mother's medical funding ends now."

"Your only value lies in your womb. Learn to obey."

From then on, he came to my room nightly. There was no tenderness, only brutal taking.

Then fate played its cruelest joke.

I discovered a paternity test—it proved I was David's biological mother.

Which meant... David was my son? Mine and James's?

Clara Emerson never imagined her sister’s wedding would turn her world upside down. She arrives at the grand event, ready to put on a brave face and watch Evelyn marry the man Clara had secretly loved since high school—Daniel Hart. But just minutes before the ceremony, Evelyn is nowhere to be found.

With hundreds of guests waiting and their family’s reputation on the line, Clara’s parents beg her to step into Evelyn’s place. Clara is hesitant, but when Daniel agrees, her heart skips a beat. Is he doing this for the family, or could there be something more?

Marrying her high school crush should feel like a dream come true, but it’s not that simple. Clara finds herself living a life she never planned for—sharing a home and a marriage with a man who might not even want her. As they navigate the unexpected twists of their new reality, Clara begins to wonder: Is this just a mistake, or could it be her second chance at love?

Three months ago, I was kidnapped. When Alexander rescued me, I woke up in a hospital bed with my clothes disheveled and bruises covering my body. What happened during those hours? I don't remember any of it.

A week ago, I found out I was pregnant. He held me as I shook and told me that it wasn't my fault. That he failed to protect me. Even if the baby wasn't his, he'd raise it. He'd still give me the perfect wedding.

But the guilt ate me alive until depression took hold.

Every night, sleep stays out of reach. Nightmares find me the moment I close my eyes. I've tried to end it. Three times now. Each time, someone found me just in time.

After the third failed attempt, I make tea and head toward his study to apologize. Voices drift through the door before I reach it.

"Are you out of your mind? Evelyn's your fiancée!" His friend sounds disbelieving. "You actually hired someone to kidnap her? Made her think she was assaulted? Just so Lily could take her place? Do you know how messed up that is? What that does to someone?"

Alexander's voice comes out calm. "Lily got sick because of me. Her dying wish is to marry me once before she goes. If I didn't push Evelyn out of the picture, her father would never let Lily take her place."

All those nights. All those nightmares. All those times I scrubbed my hands raw until they bled. It was all a lie. A setup.

For another woman.

I pull out my phone and call my father.

"Dad. I'll agree to the arrangement."

When my fiancée’s medical exam revealed kidney failure, I prepared to sell our home—and even give her one of my kidneys.
Before sacrificing everything, I tested her with one lie.
I told her the dying patient was me.
She canceled our wedding in seconds, refused to return my money, and planned to keep our apartment after my death.
Then she picked up the report and saw the patient’s name.
It wasn’t mine.
It was hers.

The red carpet to Adrian Thorne's side was never paved with flowers. It was a killing floor, meticulously designed.
Two years. Nineteen wedding attempts. And every single one ended in blood.
The fifth attempt: brake failure on the bridal car. I spent three months in the ER with a shattered left arm.
The twelfth: botulism at the menu tasting. I had my stomach pumped and nearly asphyxiated on the table.
The eighteenth... that remains my waking nightmare. I fell down a marble staircase polished to a lethal shine, losing the child I never even got to hold.
Everyone called me the "Thorne Curse." For a long time, even I believed it—that bad luck was just etched into my bones.
Time and again, I crawled out of pools of my own blood. I did it for a decade-old promise of repayment. I did it for the man I had loved for ten years.
Then came the nineteenth attempt. A floral arch weighing hundreds of pounds collapsed during our vows, crushing me into the ICU.
Ribs snapped, organs bleeding, I fought for three days just to claw my way back to the living.
But the moment I woke, through the crack in the door, I heard Adrian’s voice.
"Mr. Thorne, that was too close. If Elinor had actually died..."
"I didn't have a choice." Adrian’s tone was so cold it felt foreign. "Her father died saving me. I’m shackled by that debt. But I love Serena. She is the only one I want to marry."
His voice dropped, lethal and precise. "To clear the path for Serena, I don’t care if I have to stage nineteen accidents or ruin Elinor beyond repair. I will do whatever it takes."
Lying there, staring at the map of scars on my body, something inside me finally shattered.
I realized my suffering wasn't a twisted joke of fate. It was a love letter to another woman—his devotion to her, carved into my very skin.
Since his "debt of honor" kept him from kicking me out, I decided to play the villain and cut the cord myself.

"Very entertaining. Highly recommended for the permanent library of any reader who appreciates a well-written mystery with twists and an intelligent plot. You will not be disappointed. Excellent way to spend a cold weekend!" --Books and Movie Reviews (regarding Murder in the Manor)A VILLA IN SICILY: OLIVE OIL AND MURDER is the debut novel in a charming new cozy mystery series by bestselling author Fiona Grace, author of Murder in the Manor, a #1 Bestseller with over 100 five-star reviews (and a free download)!Audrey Smart, 34, is a brilliant vet—yet fed up by her demanding clients who think they know more than her and who don’t care about their animals. Burnt-out with the endless hours, she wonders if the time has come for a new direction. And when her 15th year high school reunion (and her hopes for re-sparking on old flame) end in disaster, Audrey knows the time has come to make a change.When Audrey sees an ad for a $1 home in Sicily, it captivates her. The only catch is that the house requires renovation, something she knows little about. She wonders if it could be real—and if she may really be crazy enough to go for it. Can Audrey create a life and career—and the home of her dreams—in a beautiful Sicilian village? And perhaps even find love while she’s there?Or will an unexpected death—one that only she can solve—put an end to all of her plans?Are some dreams too good to be true?A laugh-out-loud cozy packed with mystery, intrigue, renovation, animals, food, wine—and of course, love—A VILLA IN SICILY will capture your heart and keep you glued to the very last page.“The book had heart and the entire story worked together seamlessly that didn't sacrifice either intrigue or personality. I loved the characters - so many great characters! I can't wait to read whatever Fiona Grace writes next!”--Amazon reviewer (regarding Murder in the Manor)“Wow, this book takes off & never stops! I couldn't put it down! Highly recommended for those who love a great mystery with twists, turns, romance, and a long lost family member! I am reading the next book right now!” --Amazon reviewer (regarding Murder in the Manor)“This book is rather fast paced. It has the right blend of characters, place, and emotions. It was hard to put down and I hope to read the next book in the series.”--Amazon reviewer (regarding Murder in the Manor)Books #2 and #3 in the series—FIGS AND A CADAVER and VINO AND DEATH—are now also available!

Mistaken for a runaway bride, Mildred's ordinary life is shattered when she's forced to marry the Alpha King. Trapped in a castle of secrets, she's a pawn in a deadly game she doesn't understand. When danger strikes, Mildred must face her greatest fear to save the kingdom and the heart of a king who never wanted to love her. Will their bond be their undoing, or will it be the key to their survival?

Marisol Torres had known hardship her entire life, but nothing could prepare her for the night her entire family was massacred. A ruthless gang stormed into their tiny home, slaughtering her parents and siblings while she lay helpless in a pool of blood. Left for dead but miraculously surviving, she emerged from the ashes with nothing but a scarred body and a heart consumed by vengeance.

 

Desperation led her into the hands of Rafael Montoya, a powerful and enigmatic mafia lord with a reputation as lethal as his charm. At his high-end nightclub, Marisol became more than just a dancer, she became his spy, his enforcer, and eventually his confidante. But beneath her obedience, she harbored a secret: every move she made was a step toward avenging her family.

 

Her world unravels when she spots one of her family’s killers in Rafael’s inner circle, a scarred man with a sinister grin. She’s certain he’s part of the gang that destroyed her life, but why is he so deeply connected to Rafael? As she digs deeper, shocking truths emerge: her father’s death wasn’t just a random act of violence. It was part of a calculated betrayal tied to her father’s hidden double life, and Rafael’s empire.

 

When Marisol confronts Rafael, his chilling confession shatters her: “Your father betrayed me, Marisol. His choices sealed your family’s fate.”

Now, with vengeance within reach, Marisol must decide: will she destroy the man who saved her but kept her in the dark? Or will uncovering the truth about her father lead her down an even darker path?

Can Marisol forgive the man who both saved her life and shattered it? Or will the weight of her revenge pull her into the very darkness she’s trying to escape?

“You are not a prisoner, but you are my wife. You are officially a Davenport for the next six months, so act like one!” He warned me.

“Fuck you.” I spat at him.

“If you want my dick, all you have to do is strip and bend over the table. I might consider you and fuck you.”
…………………..

THIS IS A SPICY AND DARK MAFIA ROMANCE BOOK. KILLIAN DAVENPORT IS UNHINGED!! R18.

185 days.
That’s how long Aspen Vale must survive as the wife of Killian Davenport. The ruthless mafia lord who bought her freedom, only to cage her in his world of power, secrets, and sin.
She was sold to him like property.
Her father signed her life away for money, and Killian accepted not out of love, but obsession.
She looks like the woman he once lost.
And now he refuses to let her go. In Killian’s mansion, there are rules, cruel and unyielding rules.
No lies. No defiance. No pregnancy.
He doesn’t want a wife. He wants a ghost to worship, a memory to control. But Aspen isn’t made to be broken. The more he tries to destroy her, the more she burns beneath his touch.
She tells herself she’ll endure him for 185 days—then escape. But monsters like Killian don’t set their prey free. And the most dangerous part of all?
She’s no longer sure she wants him to.

I woke up back on the night Rhys’s Blood Tide Frenzy hit.
This time, I wouldn’t offer my blood to calm him. Instead, I sent an urgent Message Crystal to Seraphina—his precious white moonlight.
In my past life, I saw Rhys’s Blood Tide spiraled out of control, threatening to tear his body apart.
In my past life, when he commanded me to call Seraphina, I had let my pathetic, unrequited love blind me.
I offered my own body as the cure, desperately weaving the Origin Blood Seal with him.
Not long after, I fell pregnant with his half-blood child.
He had no choice but to plan our wedding. On the big day, Seraphina was ambushed by blood hunters.
She sent ninety-nine distress blood signals, yet he was tied up with wedding duties and never saw a single one.
After his beloved nearly died, he laid every ounce of blame on me.
When I went into labor, he locked me away in the Blood Dungeon. He drained every drop of my Origin Blood in a ritual meant to resurrect Seraphina, leaving me and our unborn baby to die in agony.
As my life slipped away, his words echoed in my ears: I’d ruined his one true love, and both me and the child deserved to perish.
When I opened my eyes again, I was right back to that night.

In my last life, I fell for every word out of Ryan's mouth.
To save his shot at attending physician, I volunteered to take the fall for his medical malpractice case.
My license was revoked. I went from being a surgeon to being a housewife trapped in his family's home, wasting ten years of my life chained to a kitchen stove.
I thought my sacrifice would earn me his gratitude for the rest of our lives.
Turns out, he'd been sleeping with that doe-eyed little nurse, Lily, for God knows how long.
When years of exhaustion finally caught up with me and my heart gave out, I collapsed on the freezing basement floor.
My husband Ryan was upstairs, arms wrapped around Lily, sleeping in the master bedroom we'd bought with my dowry.
"That bitch is finally kicking the bucket. Once she croaks, this house is ours."

I thought I was dead for sure. Hell, my blood has already run cold.
I snapped my eyes open only to realize the gunshot wasn't meant for me. But now, I'm being used as a human shield.
The first thing I saw was a man in all black holding a gun to my face.
He stands gallantly menacing, less than five yards from me. And despite the low light, I can see his shirt is only buttoned halfway as a jacket drapes loosely over his broad shoulders.
He is like Hades in a shirt.
"Answer me, motherfucker! Or I swear I'll kill her!" Blondie yelled, jabbing his gun at me and pulling me closer to shield himself.
"Who the fuck are you!"
The stranger returned his attention to my captor;
"You seem to have misunderstood this situation," He said with such calm and vindication, you'd think my life didn't matter.
He continued;
"I'm not the hero that saves the damsel in distress..." He paused,
"...I'm the Grim Reaper."

< Gunshot...! ><<
I froze in my spot, but I didn't feel dead.
"You're safe now." He said, walking up to me. He brushed hair from my wet cheeks as he pulled me closer.
And I just fell on him.
Without hesitating, I rise to my toes and capture his lips in mine.





***

Sapphire Sanchez is just a girl looking for momentary happiness when she makes a rather impulsive move.
Life hasn't exactly been fair to her, and her mother's condition isn't making it easier for her. Then everything turns upside down when a stranger saves her from three hoodlums.
Or maybe the right side up?
Either way, she just met Dimitri Griot, the terror of Silicone City, the Grim Reaper himself.
He has built his empire with the same ruthless vindication he delivers his judgment. And fussy romance wasn't on his agenda when a lowlife cunt got his heart beating in the wrong manner.
He wants her just as much as he hates the weakness.
She wants him even though he incites terror in her.
The condition of romance is clear, and the rules for power are final. It's one of nothing: Power, Vengeance, or Love
Neither of them can have it all. But the question is, which will either of them choose?

I moved it back a little now puts in my ass right on it bending over to kiss he again as the warmth of my pussy made his dick harder. I then started to move back and forth, pressing my warm pussy against he,
“Uhhh.” My first official moan, I locked that.
He then with me on top of he sat up holding me and then grabbing my thick thighs as he stood up carrying me as I hanged on his neck to his room.


In a world where the rich rule and the others are nonrelevant these characters exist, one, brought up in riches and the other brought up in poverty but strived to be at the top. this is a story of two worlds, one a world of the rich filled with sassiness and the other a world of Drugs, gangs, guns and of course wealth. They both clash as one migrated to the world of the other and though the road to this migration was not by choice and was brutal, it brought a ruthless mafia lord who forgot he had emotions together with a rich girl who only understood that money and fame is the only power needed.

With a 28.6-second prediction ability, Kane Voss hides as an ordinary shop owner. His cold lawyer wife holds a buried family crime secret. Assets wars, deadly ambushes, and underworld battles break out. He unfolds his god of war aura, crushes all enemies, and tears down every hidden dark truth.

My pre-wedding party was in full swing.

 

Yet, the center of attention wasn't me, but Julian's childhood sweetheart, Blair. She had just announced she was auctioning off her "first kiss."

 

My fiancé, Julian, bought that kiss without a second thought.

 

Amidst the roaring cheers of the crowd, they locked lips. They looked like the perfect match, made in heaven.

 

In that moment, I didn't cry. I didn't make a scene.

 

I casually pulled out my phone and replied to the email from the Paris headquarters: "I accept. I am ready to start immediately."

On our wedding day, Declan sent me out to Long Island. We'd been together seven years.

He said he'd left his grandmother's lucky cufflinks at the family house.

But when my car died in the storm, I opened my bridesmaid's Instagram live.

Declan was sliding my custom diamond ring onto Phoebe's finger—my adopted sister, the one with the bad heart.

My own parents were crying in the front row. My bridesmaids were cheering.

They'd turned my wedding into a dying wish ceremony for Phoebe.

Hours later, alone in the ER, I called forty-seven times.

No one picked up.

Not until after I lost the baby and disappeared from Manhattan.

That's when Declan finally came apart.

That wedding in Rome was the last time I ever saw him as his “stepsister.”
I was the Roxie family’s only daughter. After my father remarried, my mother and I moved into the Corleone estate, and from that day on, Elias became my stepbrother—also the one obsession I should never have touched.
Out in public, he was always calm and controlled. At home, though, one line from him “Don’t call me brother” made my heart race.
Until the day he held Sophia’s hand in front of a priest and announced he was going to marry her.
I was outside the venue, bending down to pick up empty bottles because I needed dialysis money. He crushed them under his shoe in front of everyone, humiliated me, and forced me to trade my dignity for cash, like he was nailing the word “step-siblings” onto a pillar of shame.
He hated me. He said I’d “gotten back at him” in the filthiest way. I just smiled and never explained.
Because he would never know the truth: back then, the reason I shoved him away with everything I had was only because I wanted him to live a little cleaner.
That night, he locked me in a pitch-dark storage room. Outside the door was wedding music. Inside was my blood and the suffocating despair.
When he finally opened the door… I was already dead.

Two years ago, my best friend Maddie knelt in front of me, crying as she borrowed $50,000.
The very next day, she vanished off the face of the earth. No explanation, no apology, not even a single text message.
I was left carrying her toxic debt. I lost my fiancé, and I lost my ability to trust anyone.
Until one late night, a call came in from an unknown number originating in an abandoned mining district in West Virginia.
On the other end of the line, Maddie said she was getting married. She had the money ready—every last cent.
The wedding venue was a ruined church deep in the mountains, abandoned for a decade. The time: Friday, midnight.

Married to the head of the Valenti family for five years. Kidnapped on our anniversary. Pregnant a month later.
Five paternity tests said the baby wasn't his. My husband got a vasectomy and swore he'd raise the child as his own.
I believed him.
Then came the therapy. The drugs. Nightmares where I was pinned down by multiple men, so real I could feel their hands hours after waking. I scrubbed my skin raw. Tried to end it six times.
He saved me every time. Held my hand. Told me no one would ever hurt me again.
Until the night I heard him laughing about it in his study.
The kidnapping was staged. The nightmares were chemicals. The DNA reports were forged. All of it — designed by my own husband to protect another woman.
Now I have a recording, a divorce agreement, and a very small box of ashes.
He's marrying her next week. I'll make sure he gets my wedding gift on time.

I loved Callum Crane for five years. He said I didn't fit. Then he proposed — to my sister.
The same night, his brother called me with the most insane idea I've ever heard: marry him instead. Same day. Same venue. Right across the hall from my ex and my sister's ceremony.
I said yes. Not because I loved Emrys Crane. Because I'd rather set the whole thing on fire than sit in a pew and watch.
Here's the thing about revenge marriages, though. They're supposed to be fake.
Nobody told Emrys.
The man had a wrench set in his truck that only fit my grandmother's machine — bought years before I ever spoke to him. He'd been sneaking looks through my workshop window so often the stone wore down. He fixed my motorcycle three times and never mentioned it. He remembered that I stared at a piece of almond brittle for ten seconds once, and bought it for me weeks later.
Seven years. He'd been in love with me for seven years. Said nothing. Did everything.
And Callum? The man who told me I didn't fit?
He showed up at my orchard with an apology and a folder full of evidence against my sister, begging for a second chance.
I looked him in the eye and said: "Too late. Wrong harvest."
He tried five more times. It only got worse for him.

The military called me a legend. My wife called me a loser.

To honor a top-secret federal NDA, I buried my past and became a warehouse janitor at my wife's security firm.

I built her a multi-billion-dollar business empire from scratch, asking for nothing in return but the medical bills for my dying daughter.

Yet, just to marry another man, she stole my life's work as her own.

She went so far as to freeze my daughter’s healthcare account, throwing my dying little girl out into the freezing rain to force me out with nothing.

They thought they had stepped me into the dirt.

They have no idea that my NDA expires tonight.

I signed the divorce papers, walked out of the hospital with my girl in my arms, and dialed back into a locked military channel to issue one quiet command:

[SYSTEM RECOVERY: MASTER AUTHORIZATION REVOKED.]

Touch my daughter? Steal my work?

The reckoning has begun, and not a single one of you will survive the fallout.

"...I gave your wedding dress to Elise." Julian said.
"What...Did you say?" I asked, just to be sure I didn't hear wrong.
"Elise," he said again, "I gave her the dress."
"And why would you even do that?" I snapped in anger.
"We've been talking, okay?" He rubbed his temples, trying to explain "She told me she wants her last wish to be getting married before she passes to me. So...I thought this, as the right thing to do."
The words exploded out of me like a volcano.
"How could you do something like this without asking me first? That's my dress, Julian! For our wedding, that's in two days!"


For many years I gave up my dreams and my youth to bring Julian back from the edge of death. We were legally bound in a secret ceremony, waiting for the day he could finally stand beside me at the altar.
But on the day of our wedding, the dress I made for myself was on my stepsister, and the man I called my husband was leading her to the priest.
With nothing left but a broken heart, I made a deal with the one man Julian feared, Sebastian Hale.
He is cold, dangerous, and the most powerful billionaire in the city. He offers me protection, wealth, and revenge, but in his world nothing is free.

This was the thirteenth time I'd tried to earn their love—and my last.
For months, I'd worked myself to exhaustion, five months pregnant, hand-sewing thousands of pearls onto what I'd hoped would become the dress of my dreams.
But moments before the ceremony, my fiancé and his family burst into the bridal suite and tore it off me. They gave it to her—the girl they'd raised, the one they'd always loved more.
They stole my wedding. They stole my groom. And when I collapsed, bleeding, they made sure the ambulance took her instead—all because she'd fainted from the drama.
Watching those sirens fade, I finally understood: I was never the daughter they wanted to save.

"Stay in the apartment," he said, straightening his tie as I fixed his collar. "I'll be back tonight." Then he walked out the door — straight to his wedding. What he didn't know was that my flight was already booked.
For three years I was his canary: locked in a penthouse, the only woman he let close when he bled, forgotten the moment another woman entered the room. I watched him let her wipe the blood from his face. I lost our child alone on a cold floor. I apologized to the woman who destroyed my mother's watch.
I was done waiting.
When the bells of Saint Patrick's rang out across Manhattan, he was welcoming his bride — and I finally flew out of my cage.

“Alaric... more... more... please!” This causes him to penetrate one more finger, increasing the rhythm of the movement of his fingers. A scream escapes my lips as I feel his teeth penetrate my flesh, causing a burning sensation similar to the one I felt in my neck.
As the penetration of his fingers intensifies, he sucks my blood, making me close my eyes. My hands grip the bedsheet tightly, pulling it up.





My whole body trembles, showing that I’m at my limit, my intimacy contracting around his fingers as I reach the peak of pleasure. He stops sucking my blood, takes his fingers out of me, and starts sucking again, sucking so hard that I try to close my legs, but I’m interrupted.

Alaric slides his tongue all over my entrance, up my clit.

“Delicious, even more delicious, young lady.” He gets up and climbs onto the bed, sinking into the mattress with his weight, getting between my legs. “I can’t wait to fuck you.”

My eyes slide down to his member, so rigid, with the veins protruding, demarcating the entire length. He follows my gaze, smiling mischievously, putting the weight of his body on mine.

“Do you want to feel my cock penetrating you hard, young lady?”

Nyra let her desire speak louder, but will that be enough to make her leave her past behind?

Alaric had never been as attracted to a woman as he was to Nyra, especially after tasting her blood. He knew she was different from his concubines, perhaps some rules were needed to make Nyra his alone.

“From now on, you will be mine alone. Understand, Nyra?”.
Rating +18