A Ruthless kind of love
Elena Marlowe is a quiet and gentle woman who never looked for trouble. But everything changes the night she meets Damien De Luca, a powerful Mafia boss known for being cold, arrogant, and ruthless.
From the beginning, Damien wants her-and he always gets what he wants. At first, Elena is afraid of him, but as time passes, she sees another side of the man everyone fears. With her, Damien becomes softer, more human. And for the first time, he learns what it means to love.
Their love is strong, but danger follows them everywhere. Friends turn into traitors, and even family members plot against them. Surrounded by lies and betrayal, Elena and Damien must fight for each other and for the life they dream of.
This is a story of love and danger, of passion and betrayal-where even in the darkest world, love can change everything.
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Chapter 6
The ride home wasn't quiet. Not the stillness of a stormy, stagnant moment-no, this stillness crackled with electricity of a storm waiting to explode.
Elena sat stiff, her fists gripped in her lap, all of her muscles still thrumming with the kiss. The city lights flashed by, out the window, but she felt nothing but him-the weight of his body on hers, the heat of his body, the pressure of his lips on hers.
The car slowed down, and she flashed open her eyes. They weren't even close to her apartment.
"This isn't-
"My place," Damien growled, voice a low growl, no argument. He was standing by the door of her car with his palm upturned.
Her heart ran. All her cells wailed run. All her cells hummed stay.
And she did.
As soon as she entered, the mood shifted. His penthouse was tidy, spare, and breathtaking-city lights glinting like diamonds between windows floor to ceiling, shadows heaping in corners like secrets. It was a den, not a home.
And she had to deal with the wolf.
Damien closed the door behind her, the ring jingling, shuddering deep inside of her. She spun back to him, words trembling on her lips-questions, denials, something. But when their eyes met, her voice betrayed her.
He stepped between them with gentle ferocity, one hand cradling the curve of her jaw, his fingers lifting her face. "Tell me again," he whispered.
Her breath snagged. "Say what?"
"Want me."
Heat trickled down the sides of her face. She swallowed, almost nothing more than a breath. "I... want you."
That was all that was needed.
His mouth closed over hers before she could even force air into her lungs. Hard and hungry and bruising. His fingers roamed with the same ruthless confidence as his kiss-up the lines of her spine, around her waist, slamming her hand against him.
Her blouse dropped to the floor. His fingers toyed with buttons on her blouse, releasing them one maddening step at a time. By the last one, open, she drew in a gasp, her body on. fire.
His gaze dropped, hungrier, darker, then lifted again to hers. "Beautiful," he growled. Not nice, not sweet but truth. Does not have any cloth on and naked.
Her heart was heavily and continuous pounding clockwise.
And then his fingers fell to rest against her flesh, the warmth of his hands against the cold damp cotton of her bra, and shivers ran down the length of her back. She gasped into his mouth, curving her body to his caress, betraying her again.
"Damien..."
The vibrate of his name on her lips brought a growl from the very core of the center of his chest. He swept her up and drew her toward the huge leather couch, dropping her onto it with a finish unexplained and quick action which made her heart in shock state
He towered over her, pinning her down with his body, resting on her with his eyes. "No more lie, Elena. Beginning today, when I kiss you..." You'll be honest with me."
And then he claimed her.
His lips set fire to a trail along the curve of her neck, his fingers tracing her shape in pitiless detail. Every movement of his fingers gently bring new sounds from her throat, low feeble she could not contain. Her blouse slipped down from her shoulders, and she was almost naked in his sight, city lights shine her skin.
She ought to have him fight off. But she wanted it so badly and that scared her.
The kiss grew forceful, his mouth fighting hers, stealing air. His hand slid lower, claiming possession of lines she did not intend to yield, and the world was boiled down to nothing more than him-his scent, his warm, the impossible grip he had on her body and mind.
Every obstacle between them fell, plank by plank, until there was nothing to hide.
When the final space was crossed, it was as if a dam had been broken-weeks of tension, of fear, of denial spilling over in a holocaust of fire and surrender.
And when they'd finished, when her body lay limp against his, vibrating heavily and undone, Elena saw that she'd gone beyond a line she could not cross back over.
Damien leaned close, his lips brushing her ear, his voice a dark promise.
"You're mine now."
A shiver coursed through her. Not from fear. From the terrifying truth that he was right.
But down there, far below the glittering skyline, there was movement in the darkness. Somewhere in the black city, there were eyes waiting, watching. And Elena, blissfully unaware, had just pledged herself to the most lethal man of them all.
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8.2
The prophecy didn't save me, it claimed me.
Death was not her ending...... it was her rebirth.
Awakened into a world of gods, bloodlines, and ancient curses, she learns that her second life is bound to a prophecy written long before she existed. Marked by divine blood and hunted by fate, she becomes the one Olympus never wanted to rise again.
As secrets unfold and forbidden bonds form, she must decide whether to obey the destiny forced upon her or defy the gods who control her future. But prophecies always demand a price, and some rebirths are meant to destroy the world that created them.
Because being reborn under a cursed prophecy means there is no escape, only fate.
7.4
My husband, a powerful tech mogul, stole my sister' s posthumous research award. He gave it to his young protégé. The same woman who killed my sister.
He didn't just steal her legacy. He threatened to destroy my lab and my life's work-the cure for the very cancer that took our family-if I didn't publicly endorse his mistress.
When I confronted him, he let her destroy my irreplaceable samples. Then, he had my hands, the hands of a neuroscientist, systematically broken to ensure I could never work again.
He imprisoned me, forcing me to sign away my entire career and publicly apologize for crimes I didn't commit.
He called it "discipline," a lesson I needed to learn. How could the man who swore to protect me become my personal tormentor?
But as I lay in a hospital bed, broken and alone, a text message lit up my screen: "Need help? I owe your family a debt." He thought he had erased me. He had only forged me into a weapon.
9.7
Existing in a depressed life without a glimpse of hope, Alice lived with her uncle, who mistreated her badly.
She finally found her mate whom she had sought for and wished to have.
Her mate rejected her after she caught him cheating.
She ran away but found out that she was pregnant. She moved on with her life and planned to raise her kids alone.
On a momentous day, a sinister plot by jealous forces threatens; her children; they were kidnapped by unknown people.
Alice was unable to find her kids after all efforts. In a while she discovered that it was her powerful rival, the Villain that orchestrated the kidnap.
She got back to her mate, Andrew, to help her find her kids.
What was his reaction to his secret babies Alice has hidden from him, can Andrew and Alice put their differences aside to rescue them?
9.6
"I don't want you. I hate you."
Those words from her only son slice deeper than any blade.
Sarah returns from the hospital expecting love, only to find her place at the family table stolen.
Her husband, James, stands arm in arm with Tiana - his late brother's widow, while her son clings to the other woman's waist, rejecting his own mother.
The betrayal does not end there.
After a confrontation with Tiana, she woke up in an abandoned building, her hands tied, and mouth taped.
Beside her was Tiana too. Tied. James stood, his confused gaze darting from Tiana to Sarah.
And then came the baritone voice from one of the kidnappers: "One life. One choice. You can only save one. Choose!"
Sarah turned, seeing how Tiana was communicating with the kidnappers with her eyes.
She struggled to let James see the truth; that this was all a setup. But she couldn't. Her mouth was tapped.
But then, like a match striking steel, James' voice came brittle and final. "Tiana."
He chose his ex over his own wife. Over the mother of his child.
Sarah was abandoned in the warehouse. Immediately they left, the warehouse exploded, covered in flames.
And Sarah's screams and cries inside, filled the night.
Did Sarah survive the fire outbreak?
If she did, can they stand her revenge when she finally returns?
8.0
For six years, I played the perfect, submissive wife to Wall Street titan Francis Castro. I suffocated my own ambitions to fit into his conservative world.
But while I waited alone at a Michelin restaurant, a news alert popped up. My husband had just dropped millions on an aquamarine diamond necklace for his "muse," Chanelle.
The real nightmare began when I rushed home to find our five-year-old son in severe anaphylactic shock. I frantically called Francis from the ambulance, but he manually rejected my calls. He couldn't leave the bidding war for Chanelle's PR launch.
When he finally arrived at the ER, Chanelle was right beside him, wearing that blinding multi-million-dollar necklace. He didn't ask about our dying son.
"Why weren't you watching him?" he demanded, his voice hard and accusing.
And when my son woke up, hazy from the drugs, he rejected my touch and reached for Chanelle instead. Francis just stood there, praising Chanelle for knowing exactly how to calm him down.
I stared at the three of them looking like a perfect, happy family. Six years of swallowing my pride, only to realize my husband would let our son choke to death just to buy another woman's smile.
The last thread of my heart snapped. I handed him the divorce papers, demanding zero alimony. Then, I drove to a hidden Brooklyn loft, cut off my hair, and unlocked my safe.
It was time to resurrect my true identity—the legendary fashion designer, Ember.J. I am going to burn her empire to the ground.
8.9
I lay on a mildewed mattress in a run-down motel, my body trembling from withdrawal. Once the most feared "Gossip Queen" in Hollywood, I was now a forty-three-year-old ghost staring at a cracked mirror, waiting for the end.
The door clicked open, and Brittany Potts stepped in, looking immaculate in a beige trench coat that cost more than my life. She didn't come to help; she tossed a waiver of marital assets onto my bed and handed me a cup of coffee laced with something that smelled like bitter almonds.
She laughed, telling me my husband, Bennet, was already in the Bahamas celebrating my death. I froze when I saw the sapphire pendant around her neck—my mother’s necklace, which had vanished the day she died. As the poison began to burn through my chest, Brittany leaned in and whispered her final secret: she was the one who cut the brake lines on the car that killed my father when we were teenagers.
My entire life had been a lie. The pills, the scandal, the bankruptcy—it was all a masterpiece of betrayal orchestrated by the two people I trusted most. I died on that filthy floor, suffocating on my own rage and the taste of chemicals, praying for a single chance to make them pay.
But when I opened my eyes, the pain was gone. I was sitting in my old bedroom, the morning sun shining on a calendar that read September 15, 2024. My mother’s voice, warm and alive, called me for breakfast from downstairs. I was eighteen again, back in my senior year at Crestview Academy, and the monsters who destroyed me were still pretending to be my friends. This time, I’m the one who holds the shears.