He Wants Me Dead Or Alive
"Are you going to treat me like the enemy?" Raffaele asked, hovering over me like a predator.
"You are the enemy," I sneered.
He smiled. "Careful. You're hurting my feelings."
"I hope I can hurt much more than that."
His eyes darkened. "You forget-I'm the one who can break you."
I vowed never to give my heart to a man. Never let one bend me. Never let one own me.
Then a single night changed everything.
When my best friend became a target, I took her place and caught the attention of the most dangerous man in the city. Raffaele, My friend's older brother, wasn't supposed to see me. We were never meant to meet but the moment his eyes locked on mine, I became his new obsession.
I don't bend and he doesn't let go.
Suddenly caught up in a world of blood and power, resisting a man like Raffaele might cost me everything...heart, body, and soul.
He wants me, dead or alive.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 4
Rosa's POV
My mouth was still hanging open like an idiot when I finally found my voice. "What the hell are you doing here, Raffaele?"
He tilted his head, that infuriating half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth like he'd been waiting for the question all morning. "I'm here to see you, of course."
Mateo cleared his throat behind us, shifting his weight. "Rosa, maybe we should-"
"Later," I cut him off without looking back, fingers already curling around Raffaele's wrist. I yanked hard, dragging the six-foot-three wall of trouble toward the locker room corridor. He let me pull him, amused, like a panther deciding to humor a kitten.
I shoved open the nearest door, hauled him inside, and slammed it shut. The echo bounced off the tiled walls. We were alone in the dim fluorescent light, surrounded by the faint smell of sweat and liniment.
He glanced around, then back at me, smirk widening. "Wow. I didn't know you liked enclosed spaces."
I rolled my eyes so hard I almost saw yesterday. "You have five minutes. Say whatever it is you came to say and get out."
He leaned one shoulder against the lockers, crossing his arms, looking far too comfortable in my space. "Five minutes? Generous. I thought you'd give me thirty seconds before you tried to knee me again."
"Clock's ticking."
Instead of getting to whatever point he had, he studied me like I was a case file he wanted to memorize. "Tell me about your family, Rosa."
I stiffened. "What?"
"Your family. Parents. Siblings. The people who made you this... interesting combination of fire and steel. I want to know."
My stomach twisted. "That's none of your business."
"Everything about you is my business now."
I laughed, sharp and bitter. "You really think that's how this works? You show up, throw around possessive bullshit, and suddenly you get access to my past? No. Your time's up."
I turned for the door.
His voice dropped, I could hear how dangerous it was all the way from here. "I'm not done talking. It's bad manners to walk away when someone isn't finished."
I paused, hand on the knob. Bad manners? This mafia man actually thought he was some posh English prince holding court? The arrogance of it burned hotter than the gym lights.
I hated the sound of his voice right then, smooth, commanding, certain I would obey.
I didn't say a word. Just opened the door and walked out.
He didn't follow me. Thank God.
I changed into my gear in record time, wrapped fresh tape over my knuckles, and headed to the mat. Mateo was already there, bouncing lightly on his toes, golden hair damp from warm-up. First champion. Undefeated against me. Every single time we sparred, he'd found the opening, taken the point, left me sprawled and cursing.
Today felt different.
We circled. He grinned that easy, sunlit grin. "Ready to lose again, Stewart?"
"Keep dreaming, golden boy."
The whistle blew.
He came in fast, testing, jab-jab-hook. I slipped the hook, countered with a low kick that grazed his thigh. He laughed, surprised, then pressed harder. Our bodies brushed... chest to chest for half a heartbeat when I blocked his cross. His breath was warm on my cheek. My pulse kicked up, not just from the fight.
Was he doing this on purpose? Lingering a second too long when we clinched, letting his fingers trail over my forearm when he pushed me back, eyes locked on mine a little too intensely?
I hooked his arm, spun, tried to throw him. He countered, used my momentum, and suddenly we were both going down. He landed on top, weight pinning me to the mat, forearms braced beside my head. Our faces were inches apart. His eyes flickered to my mouth.
For one stupid second I forgot how to breathe.
I was still trying to process it when I heard a thrilling sound.
A gunshot ripped through the gym.
Screams erupted with chairs scraping. Feet pounding. Another shot, then another. Chaos exploded like someone had kicked over a hornet's nest.
Mateo rolled off me instantly, grabbing my arm. "Come on... back exit...
I slipped his grip like water, already scanning the room through the sudden haze of panic. People were diving behind equipment, scrambling for doors. The shots kept coming, deliberate, controlled.
And then... they stopped.
Dead silence except for my ringing ears and distant sobs.
I straightened slowly, chest heaving.
Through the drifting smoke and dust walked...Raffaele.
Calm. Untouched. Hands in his pockets. Like he'd just strolled in from a coffee run.
I shook my head. No. He couldn't be...
"You..." The word scraped out of my throat.
He stopped a few feet away, head tilted. "Did I have to go through such lengths to get your attention?"
Rage boiled up so fast it tasted like copper. "Are you sick? People could have gotten hurt! What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Rosa..." His voice was quiet, almost gentle. "You shouldn't have walked away when I was talking."
His face was unsmiling, hard and cold.
I should have been scared. Any sane person would be terrified.
Fuck him. Fuck him over!!!
I don't bow to any man.
I stepped closer. Close enough to smell the faint gunpowder on his shirt, close enough to see the faint bruise already blooming on his knuckles.
Then I swung.
My palm cracked across his cheek...hard, clean, ringing.
The sound echoed louder than any gunshot.
His head barely moved. But his eyes flared.
"How's this for attention?" I hissed.
I turned on my heel and walked away, through the stunned silence, past overturned benches and wide-eyed teammates, out the side door into the blinding daylight.
My hand stung.
My heart was a war drum.
I'd probably dug my grave but, that thought was something I would panic over later.
You may also like
8.1
Racheal Angelo never wanted a new life, a new house, or a new family. She just wanted the life she was used to, but when her mother marries the cold, manipulative, powerful attorney Simon Adams to escape financial ruin, Racheal is forced into a mansion she wants no part of.
What she didn't expect was the nightmare waiting at the top of the stairs- Thane Adams, her new stepbrother. The same sinfully irresistible stranger she had a reckless, heartbreak-fueled hookup with the night she caught her boyfriend, Raymond cheating.
What begins as tension and denial soon becomes a desire neither of them can control. But in a house full of secrets, lies, hidden agendas, and a father who will ruin anyone who threatens his legacy and reputation... falling for each other isn't just forbidden. It's dangerous. A love born in the dark may cost them everything, even their family, their future, and each other.
7.6
Dumped by her fiancé just days before their wedding, only to watch him marry someone else-what would you do? Cry yourself to sleep, or dress to kill for revenge?
That was Elaina's reality. She's no Cinderella, yet she lost a shoe while recklessly crashing her ex's wedding. Her revenge plan went up in flames, but fate had other ideas, throwing her into the path of Alister-a man who is handsome, charismatic, and dangerous... and ironically, the person closest to her ex-fiancé.
Amidst heartbreak and vendettas, Alister paints her world in new colors, turning Elaina into a modern-day Cinderella. But will this story end in "happily ever after," or is Alister merely leading her into a much more dangerous game?
9.2
Clara was drowning in student debt and barely making rent when she downloaded a fantasy mobile game to escape reality.
Inside the game, an exiled prince named Alex was freezing to death. Pitying him, she spent her last few dollars on microtransactions to fix his shelter and cure his poison.
But the game was far too real.
Every time she paid, the prince reacted. When she complained aloud about going broke, the in-game army suddenly halted, as if the prince had heard her voice.
Then, the terrifying real-world consequences hit.
Clara woke up to find her water glass and a box of Kleenex had vanished from her locked bedroom overnight.
She frantically searched the tiny apartment, her heart pounding in her chest.
She thought she was losing her mind. Had she thrown them out in her sleep? Was there a stalker hiding in her home?
How could physical objects just disappear into thin air behind a deadbolted door?
Until she looked at her nightstand.
Sitting exactly where her missing items used to be was a glowing, weightless crystal cup that defied all logic.
And on her laptop screen, the exiled prince was carefully holding her Kleenex box, offering a mountain of real gold on an altar.
She hadn't just downloaded a mobile game; she had opened a cross-dimensional trade route with a desperate future king.
9.5
He was born from the void between stars - a being of immense power, forged from cosmic origins.
For thousands of years, he walked among humanity, protecting them and keeping his true strength hidden. After losing the only family he had, grief led him to seek his own end... only to wake up in a world entirely unlike his own.
Here, cultivation is the main path to power. Those who master spirit qi gain superhuman strength, speed, and abilities that place them far above ordinary people. Four great sects rule the land, competing for resources, secrets, and dominance over each other.
Icaros joined the Li Sect, where he found companions he came to trust and care for: the capable and easygoing Li Han, the sharp and composed Su Yan, and the spirited Nelly. For a time, he felt he had found a place to belong, even as he kept his true nature hidden and wondered whether he could ever learn to cultivate like those around him.
Everything changed when their voyage was suddenly attacked. A powerful figure floating in the sky cut their ship apart with sharp, devastating energy strikes, leaving only destruction in his wake. Believing his friends had been lost in the disaster, Icaros chose to stop holding back any longer.
> "I am done hiding!"
He unleashed his full power: golden light blazed from his eyes, he flew at incredible speed, and he broke through every barrier and enemy in his way. On the shores ahead, he tore through hordes of powerful jade monsters, destroying them completely before flying deep into the interior of the island.
Meanwhile, survivors washed up scattered and alone. One young cultivator found himself on the shores of Jade Island - a place most cultivators avoid, as it holds no treasures or useful materials, only danger and endless deposits of ordinary jade. Yet despite the risks, ordinary people have built settlements here, finding safety from the conflicts and power struggles of the outside world.
This island works by different rules. Spirit qi is scarce and unstable, making cultivation far less effective than elsewhere. Instead, the people here rely on advanced technology - weapons and explosives that can injure or even defeat those with great physical strength. Here, skill and preparation can be just as powerful as raw strength, and even the strongest cultivators must move with caution.
Now, Icaros has vanished deep into the island. His companions are lost somewhere across this dangerous land. And the mysterious swordsman who destroyed their ship has already arrived here, searching for an ancient map said to lead to the legacy of a being from another world.
Will they find each other again? And can anyone survive in a place where the usual rules of power no longer hold true?
✅ Chapters 1–19: FREE
🔒 Chapters 20 onwards: PAID
(Continue the journey of power, friendship, and discovery!)
8.9
The mangled car teetered on the cliff's edge, my leg crushed, gasoline fumes thick in the air. My husband, Holden, stood safe on the highway, directing the rescue – but not for me. He was saving her, the woman in the passenger seat, leaving me and our unborn child to the ocean below.
I woke trapped in the crushed Maybach, leg pinned. The cliff loomed; the driver's seat was empty.
Holden, safe outside, directed paramedics past me to Giana, his "most valuable asset," ordering her rescue first.
I watched him comfort Giana, oblivious, as the car slid. My baby barely viable. Holden offered a black card for silence; Giana gloated.
Ten years of devotion, a cruel lie. Rage fueled me: how could he abandon his wife and child?
I swore a venomous oath: never again an accessory. I flicked his card away, shielded my pregnancy, and promised my baby escape.
7.9
The rain was a solid sheet of gray as the black SUV rammed into my car, sending me spiraling over the guardrail. As the glass shattered and the world turned upside down, a searing pain ripped through my chest before everything went cold and dark.
I didn’t stay in the darkness. My spirit hovered ten feet in the air, watching the steam hiss from my mangled sedan.
I followed the magnetic pull of my soul back to my family estate, expecting to find them devastated. Instead, I found my stepmother, Florene, and my sister, Kassidy, pouring vintage champagne and laughing in the drawing room.
"To the end of the nuisance," Florene said, her eyes gleaming with greed. "The trust fund unlocks at midnight. We're finally rich."
The betrayal cut deeper than the metal that killed me, but the real shock came at my funeral. Hiram Tyson—the cold, masked husband I’d spent three years fearing—collapsed over my closed casket. He unbuckled his silver mask, revealing a face ruined by scars, and sobbed a name I hadn't heard since childhood.
"I'm sorry, Angel. I thought keeping you at arm's length would keep the darkness away."
He wasn't the monster I thought he was. He was the boy I had saved at the orphanage years ago, and he had been protecting me in silence while my own family plotted my murder.
I reached out to touch him, but the world exploded into a blinding white light.
When I opened my eyes, I wasn't in a casket. I was back in our bedroom, feeling the heavy weight of Hiram’s arm across my waist. The calendar on the nightstand read September 14, 2023—exactly one year before the crash.
I looked at the silver mask resting on the table and felt a cold, hard determination settle in my chest. This time, I wasn't going to be the victim. I was going to be the villain in their story and burn their world to the ground.