THE KILLER THAT CLAIMED (A dark, mafia romance)
I was sold and married off to a monster.
And on my wedding night... he tried to rape me.
But before he could, gunfire tore through the walls, blood spilled and screams filled the air.
And just like that... my husband was dead.
I thought it was over.
I was wrong. Because the men who killed him didn't save me.
They took and dragged me into a world darker than anything I had ever known and straight into the hands of a man far more dangerous.
Now I belong to him.....Bane Valak.
And in his world, there are only two choices, Obey... or Die.
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Chapter 2
The door opened without warning that night, and my chest tightened.
The air shifted, heavy and sharp, and I couldn't move. Fear had become second nature to me from the minute I step foot in this place.
Every instinct screamed at me to run, but the wall behind me reminded me there was nowhere to go.
Even if I did have anywhere to go, I would be dragged right back here.
Raul stepped inside, every movement deliberate, like he owned the shadows themselves.
My heart hammered so hard it hurt.
"You're awake, girl" he said, voice low, smooth, dangerous.
"I... I am," I whispered, voice trembling.
He stopped, eyes scanning me.
His smile, thin and cruel, didn't reach his eyes.
"Do you remember earlier" he said, circling slowly. "When I said you looked perfect for breaking."
I pressed my hands to my bed, clutching my sheets like it could shield me.
"I... I do," I whispered, though the words tasted bitter.
His eyes glinted.
"Did your father tell you about the duties of a wife? To please her husband?"
"My aunty did" I managed to respond.
My father's older sister had gone through the pains of enlightening me on the concept of sex and how a woman had no right to refuse her husband her body.
When I asked her if it would hurt, she simply said a woman's life is filled with pain and hurt.
The difference between a weak and strong woman was one's ability to endure and overcome such pains.
Looking at Raul now, he was going to be a permanent source of pain for me.
I could feel it.
"Good," he said now nearing me, "You were at least taught something. Now, raise your gown and bend over for me"
I was a virgin and had no idea how the dynamics of sex worked but I doubt it was like this.
"I.....I can't do....."
Then his hand shot out. The slap landed across my cheek with a crack that made me reel.
Pain blossomed red-hot across my skin, my knees buckling slightly.
"Do not dare say no to me!," he hissed. "You are mine. Every thought, every breath... mine!!"
I pressed myself against the wall, trembling.
"Yes... I-"
He stepped closer, heat and threat pressing into me. His hand brushed my hair, pulling my head back.
"You will learn to submit to me. You will learn. Tonight."
I wanted to scream, but my voice failed me.
Then he grabbed me. His hands were rough and forceful.
My knees buckled; I struggled, desperate to push him away while he tried to rip my dress off so he could claim me in the worst way possible.
"Please... no! Stop! You're hurting me, please!!" I begged, panic rising in waves.
I was sure that all hope was lost for me but that was when I heard it.
BANG!!!
The first gunshot tore through the compound. Windows rattled, walls shook. My chest jolted; terror and relief collided.
He froze mid-motion, eyes narrowing.
"Stay there!" he barked. "Do not move. Not an inch!"
I said nothing, only moved to the corner of the bed, shivering violently.
Gunfire suddenly exploded.
It was rapid, precise, terrifying. Shouts followed. The world outside the room had erupted into chaos.
He cursed, low and guttural, stepping back, trying to figure out what was happening in his compound.
My body quaked.
Another round of shooting. Closer. Louder.
He stumbled, clutching his side. Panic in his eyes.
I could have sworn I saw a flicker of fear. This was the first time he ever looked human to me.
Through the door, masked figures poured into the room.
I couldn't take my eyes off them: coordinated, lethal, moving like shadows.
They were here for him. I could feel it.
"Stay back!" he yelled, lunging toward them.
Guns flashed, bullets filled the air, and the room became a storm of violence.
I sank to the floor, pressed against the carpet, helpless. My chest pounded, breaths short, trembling uncontrollably.
And then... I saw it happen.
One shot. My husband.....the man I had just begun to fear, fell to the floor.
Blood blossomed across his shirt. His eyes widened, shock replacing anger. He tried to rise. Another shot. This time to the head.
And then he was gone.
Dead.
Just like that.
Before I could breathe, hands grabbed me.
Strong, rough, unyielding. I struggled, screamed, tried to push away. But the masked men were fast, brutal, terrifying.
I was dragged out, stumbling over debris, past broken doors, over shattered glass, and dead bodies.
This was a massacre.
I yelled and begged for them to please let me go as I was innocent in all this.
"Quiet," a voice commanded.
I didn't dare speak. My heart was in my throat. My mind raced.
Where were they taking me? Who had sent them? Who were these men?
My father had sold me. My husband had tried to rape me.
And now... he had murdered in front of me and I'm getting kidnapped with no idea what awaited me next.
We reached a van outside. The rain slicked pavement reflected the chaos, flashes of gunfire lighting the sky.
They threw me inside.
The smell of leather and gunpowder filled my senses. I was shoved onto the cold metal floor, hands now tied, my dress ripped and wet with Raul's blood.
"Where... where are you taking me?" I managed to whisper, voice hoarse.
No answer. Only a glance from one of the masked men.
His eyes were cold, commanding, dangerous And I realized: I was at the mercy of strangers.
As the van doors slammed shut, my body trembled violently. Tears threatened, but this time I let them fall.
The van lurched forward, tires screaming against the asphalt, carrying me into the unknown.
And for the first time since I was born, I understood one thing clearly;
I was going to die..
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7.8
Isabella Hart thought her Valentine's Day plan was perfect: propose to her boyfriend, celebrate in the Maldives, and finally start the life she'd dreamed of.
Instead, she walked into his office and found him kissing his assistant who was also her friend.
Heartbreak turned to fury and before she could stop herself, she shoved the engagement ring meant for him onto the finger of a stranger with cold gray eyes.
The stranger looked at her, amused, and said, "I do."
Moments later, her ex called that stranger Boss.
Luciano Moretti, the stranger, was no ordinary man. He was the quiet, ruthless king of New York's underworld, the man people whispered about but never dared to name aloud.
What began as a viral mistake became a dangerous entanglement of power, lies, and a love too forbidden to survive the truth.
7.5
On the morning of our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, I found a cream-colored document tucked inside my husband's suit pocket.
It was a twenty-million-dollar asset transfer for his former receptionist, Carmen. But what made my blood run cold was the contingent beneficiary: Leo, my newborn son who the hospital claimed was kidnapped twenty-three years ago.
When I confronted Devonte, he didn't even try to explain. He handed me a fake Cartier watch, canceled all my credit cards, and publicly called me delusional.
The next day, he moved Carmen into our mansion and emptied all our joint accounts into offshore trusts.
"If you don't sign these papers and walk away, I will have you committed," he threatened, his mother nodding in agreement.
They had orchestrated the kidnapping of my baby, hiding him with the mistress while I spent half my life sedated and screaming in grief. Now, to keep his secret, Devonte was going to lock me in a psychiatric ward and bury me in debt.
I didn't understand how the man I loved could be such a monster. Why did he steal my child? What else was hidden in that confidential adoption file?
Pushed to the absolute brink, I refused to be his victim.
When his goons came to my temporary apartment to drag me away, I turned to the rugged union electrician who had just fixed my lights.
"If you need a husband to keep you out of a psych ward, I'll marry you," he said, offering himself as my legal shield.
I took his hand. It was time to tear my husband's perfect life apart.
7.1
"Don't tease me again or else you really want it. There are no safe words in my bed."
He is rumored to know a thousand ways to disarm and pleasure a woman, and I am Olivia, the nymphomaniac.
In a quest for revenge against my childhood bullies, I got locked into an unhappy marriage, with an untamed brother-in-law. Colt Fletcher, the morally-grey, rebel biker is ever excited by danger and prefers life on the edge. And from the moment he laid eyes on me, I became his forbidden want.
I should know better, to steer clear of deadly desires like these but when fate forces us to live under the same roof, share the same boardroom, and every accidental touch burns, my resolve begins to collapse.
But scandals don't stay buried, and my husband is the devil. The price of this betrayal is death. I must choose between my husband who owns my name, and his brother who owns my body.
7.1
For ten years, I disguised myself as my dead twin brother, fighting bloody mob wars to build the Falcone family's bootlegging empire.
When the war ended, I thought I could finally take off the men's suits and be Anya again.
Instead, my parents stole my victories to secure my father's power, demanding I disappear forever.
When I tried to expose the truth, my family dragged me into a soundproof basement.
My younger brother forced a metal funnel past my teeth and poured corrosive chemicals down my throat, dissolving my vocal cords into a blistered ruin.
They chained me to a freezing pier, whipped me bloody, and let the men I used to lead spit on me as a jealous traitor.
Then, under the guise of a family reconciliation dinner, my mother drugged my wine.
While I lay paralyzed but fully conscious on my bed, my brother took heavy iron pliers and crushed all ten of my fingers, bone by bone.
They wanted to ensure I could never hold a gun or write the truth again.
I had slaughtered for them, bled for them, and craved only their love.
In return, they pulverized my body and painted me as a hysterical madwoman just to keep the crown I had won for them.
The foolish girl who wanted a family died in that agonizing pain, leaving behind only a ghost.
Dragging my mangled, bandaged body into the rival Romano family's charity gala, I collapsed at the feet of their ruthless matriarch.
"I invoke the sacred code," I rasped through my chemically burned throat. "I demand a Vendetta."
7.9
"You are wet, Red. I can smell your juices already." He said. I wanted to deny it but I knew he was right. The sides of my thigh were already clammy. How could he tell from afar?
"No, I need to sleep. I told you I have a presentation tomorrow, right? I'm tired, I want to rest a bit." I replied.
"You'll do that when I get a release. I'll make sure to be fast about it," he replied. I stood rooted on the same spot without moving. I knew he was just being civil with me. It was only a matter of time before he dragged me to his side.
"Unless maybe you want me to call the others?" He asked but I could tell he was threatening me. Calling the others would end in me not getting any rest at all.
"No, please," I replied walking obediently to his side.
*****
Three men, one naive woman.
Ziyana never knew her life would turn in the most dramatic way. She enjoyed the life of a princess until life happened.
From being hated by her blood to suddenly being sold to a spoilt Mafia Lord. She thought she could navigate through it but there were two more brothers!
Ruthless. Domineering. Voracious.
The Niccolo Brothers' lives were full of danger and envy but these men never wanted her out of their sight.
Would Ziyana be able to cope in the midst or run for her life before she get used to them?
8.1
Trigger Warning: This book is extremely dark, containing themes of obsession, strong sexual content, abuse, and psychological manipulation. Read at your own risk.
"I'll delete the pictures depending on how obedient you are. You have to do everything I say. If I want you to become a dog, you get on your knees and bark. Do we have a deal?"
Pierce leans down to Malakai's height, his lips brushing the shell of his ear, close enough to taste his fear.
"You don't want her to know what a dirty little creep you are, do you?"
Malakai Kreston is the preacher's perfect son. Quiet. Obedient. The kind of boy no one looks at twice.
But Malakai has a filthy secret. And he'll do anything-anything-to keep it buried.
Enter Pierce Masterson.
Wealthy. Attractive. Pierce doesn't just want Malakai's secret. He wants Malakai. All of him. His fear. His obedience. His body. His mind.
Pierce wants to own it, and lock it away where no one else can ever touch it.
Kai has always been the hunter-watching from the shadows, obsessing in silence, taking what doesn't belong to him.
Now someone is hunting him.
And Pierce doesn't play fair. He plays dirty.
How far can you run when the devil already knows every dark corner of your soul?
In a game of predator and prey, the lines blur. The roles reverse. And the most dangerous thing isn't the boy who holds the blackmail-
It's the moment Malakai stops wanting to be free.