When Isadora Langston survives an assassination attempt, she is sent into hiding under the protection of the one man her father warned her about-Luciano Moretti. He's ice and gunpowder, the dark prince of a crime empire that thrives in blood. She's America's golden girl, groomed for perfection and promises. What begins as reluctant proximity soon ignites into obsession, but with every kiss, secrets unravel-some that could ruin them both. In a world where loyalty kills and love is a weakness, can they survive each other... or will their wicked promises consume them?
The glass was cool against her forehead, but it did little to calm the storm inside her.
Isadora Langston stood at the towering window of her D.C. townhouse, her silhouette outlined by the bruised lavender of an approaching dusk. The city buzzed below-horns, sirens, camera flashes. But here, in her private prison above it all, everything was quiet. Too quiet.
She watched her reflection blend with the blurred skyline-half-girl, half-ghost.
"You should be packing." Her father's voice was flat behind her, as though he hadn't just signed away her life with a few whispered threats and classified reports.
She didn't turn. "You said I'd be safe here."
"Things have changed." His tone sharpened. "You were nearly killed last night. I will not have my daughter become a political casualty."
A bitter laugh caught in her throat. "Isn't that what I've always been?"
Senator Langston exhaled through his nose-controlled, irritated. The way he always got when she broke character. "You're not going to that charity gala next week. You're flying out tonight."
"Where?" She finally turned to face him, eyes sharp like shattered glass. "To another of your secret bunkers? Some Swiss villa with armed guards and no soul?"
His jaw tensed. "To Sicily."
Isadora blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You'll be under the protection of someone who owes me a favor."
"And who might that be? A crooked general? Another skeleton from your Cold War closet?"
The pause said everything.
"Luciano Moretti."
The name landed like a punch to the gut.
"You're sending me to a mafia heir?" Her voice cracked, outrage laced with disbelief. "Jesus Christ, Dad. He's a ghost story-mothers tell their children not to say his name out loud."
"He's the only one powerful enough to keep you alive. Don't be dramatic."
She crossed her arms, her body trembling-not with fear, but with fury. "Why now? Why him?"
He stepped closer, towering, still in his crisp suit, tie strangling his throat like his morals had years ago. "Because I'd rather have you in the lion's den with a lion I can control than buried six feet under with a bullet in your skull."
A beat of silence stretched between them, taut as piano wire.
"I'm not a pawn, Dad."
His eyes narrowed. "You've always been a piece on the board, Isadora. The only difference is, this time I'm trying to keep you alive."
Her heart hammered in her chest. She wanted to scream, to cry, to break every mirror in the house just so she wouldn't have to see her father's shadow in her face.
But instead, she nodded.
Because in the Langston house, survival always came before rebellion.
The jet was sleek, soulless. Leather seats, curt crew, sterile air. It could've flown her to heaven or hell and it wouldn't have made a difference.
She barely touched the champagne. Instead, she pressed her forehead to the oval window, watching the world fall away beneath her in clouds and chaos.
Luciano Moretti.
The name itself was smoke-whispered in political circles, feared in criminal ones. Rumors painted him as many things: assassin, billionaire, recluse. No one really knew where he was, until now. Her father had traded favors, old blood debts, and now she was the currency.
A whisper of a man she'd never met was about to become her shadow.
And maybe her executioner.
The car that picked her up in Sicily was black, armored, and driven by a man who didn't speak.
The drive stretched through winding hills and sleepy towns, past olive groves and estates tucked into the earth like secrets. Then came the gates-wrought iron, ancient and sprawling. The estate behind them looked like a relic of a forgotten empire. Marble, vines, too much silence.
Isadora's breath caught in her throat as the car stopped.
She stepped out. Sunlight cut across her bare arms like blades. The cicadas screamed in the distance.
And then he appeared.
Luciano Moretti stood at the top of the marble steps, a shadow in a linen shirt and black slacks, sleeves rolled to his forearms. His face-God, his face-was carved from storm clouds and stillness. Midnight hair, olive skin, eyes the color of sea glass-cold and unrelenting.
She met his gaze. And he looked through her like she was nothing.
No greeting. No smile.
Just silence.
He turned without a word and disappeared into the villa.
Isadora straightened her shoulders.
So this is the lion's den.
And she was no lamb.
Antonia Rossi is forced to take the place of her step-sister to become the wife of a billionaire tech genius who she knows nothing about, just to save her father. After a drunken one night stand, she then ends up pregnant for her husband and is being mistreated by her husband and is being forced not to show her face in public as his wife. Antonia plans to get revenge on her husband and her family for putting her through a lot. As time passes Alessandro finds himself falling deeply for Antonia but she then threatens him with a divorce. The night which Antonia and Alessandro where meant to separate, their house was attacked only to find out that it was Alessandro step-brother and Antonia step-sister who was secretly planning to kill her and Alessandro just to take over the company. Will Antonia and Alessandro survive?, And would love ever spark between Antonia and Alessandro?.
For as long as Emily can remember, she has wanted to overcome her shyness and explore her sexuality. Still, everything changes when she receives an invitation to visit one of the town's most prestigious BDSM clubs, DESIRE'S DEN. On the day she chose to peruse the club, she noticed three men, all dressed in suits, standing on the upper level, near the railing. Despite her limited vision, she persisted in fixating on them. Their towering statues belied the toned bodies concealed by their sharply tailored suits-or so she could tell. The hair of two of them was short and dark, and the third had light brown-possibly blond-hair that reached the shoulders. The dark, crimson background incised their figures, exuding an air of mystery and strength. They stood in stark contrast to the unfiltered, primal energy that pulsed through the club. Shocked by the desires these men aroused in her, she was disappointed to learn that they were masters seeking a slave to divide and conquer. She couldn't afford the fee, and she also realized that they were outside her league. Emily hurriedly left the club, feeling disappointed and depressed, unaware that she had also caught the group's attention. A world of wicked pleasure, three handsome men. Over the years, they have lived a life of decadence, their lavish lair serving as a stage for their most sinister desires. But despite the unending parade of willing subjects, one woman sticks out. A mysterious stranger with white porcelain skin and a killer body, a slave, a name with no address, the first lady to attract their eye and they will go to any length to obtain her no matter the consequences.
A twist of fate bound Allison to Derek in marriage-she, a powerful heiress with countless hidden identities; he, the city's most admired man, now lying silent in a coma. For three years, Allison used her unmatched medical skills to heal him, all while quietly falling in love. But when Derek's long-lost love returned from abroad, he handed Allison divorce papers without a second thought. Resolved to stop chasing shadows, Allison signed the papers and turned her back on love-rising to fame as a dazzling force in business, medicine, and more. Only when she stood high above the world did Derek finally see her worth. He knelt before her, eyes brimming with regret. "Will you take me back?" he whispered.
On her wedding day, Khloe’s sister connived with her groom, framing her for a crime she didn’t commit. She was sentenced to three years in prison, where she endured much suffering. When Khloe was finally released, her evil sister used their mother to coerce Khloe into an indecent liaison with an elderly man. As fate would have it, Khloe crossed paths with Henrik, the dashing yet ruthless mobster who sought to alter the course of her life. Despite Henrik’s cold exterior, he cherished Khloe like no other. He helped her take retribution from her tormentors and kept her from being bullied again.
Belinda thought after divorce, they would part ways for good - he could live his life on his own terms, while she could indulge in the rest of hers. However, fate had other plans in store. "My darling, I was wrong. Would you please come back to me?" The man, whom she once loved deeply, lowered his once proud head humbly. "I beg you to return to me." Belinda coldly pushed away the bouquet of flowers he had offered her and coolly replied, "It's too late. The bridge has been burned, and the ashes have long since scattered to the wind!"
Kallie, a mute who had been ignored by her husband for five years since their wedding, also suffered the loss of her pregnancy due to her cruel mother-in-law. After the divorce, she learned that her ex-husband had quickly gotten engaged to the woman he truly loved. Holding her slightly rounded belly, she realized that he had never really cared for her. Determined, she left him behind, treating him as a stranger. Yet, after she left, he scoured the globe in search of her. When their paths crossed once more, Kallie had already found new happiness. For the first time, he pleaded humbly, "Please don't leave me..." But Kallie's response was firm and dismissive, cutting through any lingering ties. "Get lost!"
Darya spent three years loving Micah, worshipping the ground he walked on. Until his neglect and his family's abuse finally woke her up to the ugly truth-he doesn't love her. Never did, never will. To her, he is a hero, her knight in shining armour. To him, she is an opportunist, a gold digger who schemed her way into his life. Darya accepts the harsh reality, gathers the shattered pieces of her dignity, divorces him, takes back her real name, reclaims her title as the country's youngest billionaire heiress. Their paths cross again at a party. Micah watches his ex-wife sing like an angel, tear up the dance floor, then thwart a lecher with a roundhouse kick. He realises, belatedly, that she's exactly the kind of woman he'd want to marry, if only he had taken the trouble to get to know her. Micah acts promptly to win her back, but discovers she's now surrounded by eligible bachelors: high-powered CEO, genius biochemist, award-winning singer, reformed playboy. Worse, she makes it pretty clear that she's done with him. Micah gears up for an uphill battle. He must prove to her he's still worthy of her love before she falls for someone else. And time is running out.