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 5
They didn't take me back to a cell. That was the first thing I noticed.
The second thing I noticed was the silence. This place they were taking me for the "clean up" was quieter.
A lot cleaner as well.
"Stand still."
The order came as soon as they pushed me into a brightly lit room. I blinked against the sudden light, my eyes struggling to adjust.
After being in the dark cell for so long, everything felt too sharp and too bright.
I hesitated for half a second while I struggled to stay put.
A hand grabbed my arm.
"I said stand still."
"I''m trying," I whispered quickly, exhaustion rising.
The grip loosened.
Women entered the room. They were not like the armed men. They had a ofter movements and calmer faces.
But their eyes... their eyes told me everything.
They were just as important as the guards and on some level, maybe more ruthless.
"Clean her," one of the men ordered the women before stepping out.
That was it.
The door was slammed shut and suddenly... I was surrounded.
"Take off the dress," one of the women said.
My breath hitched.
"Wh...what?"
She didn't even react. "Take. It. Off."
My hands trembled as I reached for the fabric. The dress I had worn two nights ago felt heavier now.
A lot dirtier too.
Stained with dirt and tears and sweat and blood. It didn't belong on me anymore.
I didn't belong in it anymore.
I pulled it off slowly, my fingers shaking, my chest tight with humiliation.
I wrapped my arms around myself immediately, trying to hide my nakedness, trying to feel like I still had any dignity left.
They didn't care.
Hands pulled me forward.
Warm water hit my skin and I flinched.
It had been so long since I felt anything gentle that my body didn't know how to react. My shoulders tensed, my breath uneven as they began to wash me.
Carefully and efficiently like I was an object being prepared and not a person.
"Stop shaking," one of them murmured as she washed my hair.
"I can't," I whispered.
She didn't respond.
They scrubbed away the dirt. The blood. The evidence of everything that had happened. My husband's vile touch.
The floor of the cell. The fear.
But they couldn't scrub away what I felt inside.
That stayed.
I fear it was never going to leave.
"Turn," another ordered.
I obeyed immediately.I didn't even think about resisting anymore. There was no point.
They rinsed my hair, brushing through it gently.
The softness of it made my throat tighten. I wasn't expecting this, didn't understand it and hence, I didn't trust it.
This didn't feel like kindness.
When they were done, they wrapped me in a soft cloth. Dried my skin. Dressed me in something new, simple, but clean.
"Good," one of them said, stepping back. "He won't like mess."
My stomach twisted.
He.
Bane.
The door opened again. It was one of the guards that had brought me here.
"Bring her. The boss wants to see her now"
My heart started racing immediately.
This was it.
My feet moved before my mind could catch up. I followed them out, my hands clenched tightly at my sides, my breathing shallow.
"Please..." I whispered before I could stop myself. "Don't-"
"Stop talking," the man beside me snapped.
I shut up immediately.
We stopped in front of a large door. Bigger than the rest.
The man knocked once and then opened it without waiting and took me inside.
"Boss. The girl is here"
The room was... different.
It smelt like power and at the center of it... was him.
Bane.
He stood near the window, his back partially turned, hands in his pockets.
"Leave us," he said.
The man beside me obeyed immediately and left. The door shut.
And suddenly...It was just Bane and I.
I didn't move. I didn't speak. I didn't even know how to exist in the same space as him.
He turned slowly.
His eyes found mine again and just like before I couldn't look away.
"Come here, Amaya."
I took a step forward. Then another and another until I stopped a few feet away from him.
He looked at me fully now and my heart was beating so fast I thought I might collapse.
"You clean up well," he said.
My throat tightened.
"Thank you..."
Why did I say that? Why was I thanking him?
I didn't understand anything anymore.
"You were married two days ago," he said.
"Yes." My voice came out barely above a whisper.
"And now?"
I was almost excited to say the next words that came out of my mouth.
"He's... dead."
"I know. I was the one who ordered the hit."
"What happens to me now?"
I finally asked.
Silence fell between us.
"What happens now is that you belong to me, Amaya Vancouver."
The words landed like a final blow.
I froze and my mind went blank.
"I....." My voice broke. I swallowed hard. "I don't understand..."
His expression didn't change.
"You were bought," he said simply. "Then taken," he took a step closer, "Now you're mine and belong to me."
I shook my head slightly, panic rising.
"Please... I can't... I don't want that"
His hand moved suddenly gripping my chin. It wasn't violent but it was firm and unyielding.
"You don't get to want," he said quietly.
My breath stopped as tears filled my eyes instantly. This can't be happening to me.
"Listen carefully," His voice cut through everything.
"If you agree to be my little princess..." he said slowly, his grip tightening just enough to keep my attention, "you live."
My heart pounded violently.
"And if I don't?" I whispered.
"I send you to meet your husband. I'm sure he misses you already."
My knees nearly gave out. I sucked in a sharp breath, panic and fear and confusion crashing over me in waves.
I had two options.
Die...
Or...
Accept this.
Accept this man who could be worse than Raul. But at least this time, I got to choose.
My lips trembled but his eyes didn't leave mine.
"I..."
"Go on, princess" he said calmly.
"I agree," I whispered.
His grip loosened but he didn't step away.
Instead his thumb brushed lightly against my cheek, and he leaned in and said to me.
"You'll learn to love it here"
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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.