Richie~Banks

Then, with deliberate slowness, he reached for a small black bottle from the table. “I thought you would prefer the gentle way. Guess I was wrong.”

His words cut through me like a knife. He crouched down in front of me, cupping my chin with his cold, cruel hands. His fingers dug into my skin, forcing my mouth open, and I gasped in horror as he tilted the bottle.

The liquid slid down my throat, burning, choking. My body convulsed in protest, but I couldn’t stop him. The poison — Deadly Nightshade. I had used it before. And now I was forced to take it. 

A year to live.

His smirk deepened as he let go of me, watching with sadistic pleasure as I gagged, my hands flying to my mouth.

Tears stung my eyes. The bitter, metallic taste of death filled my mouth, and I could do nothing but cry. My vision blurred as the poison coursed through me, but I couldn’t let go of my rage.

Francesco’s voice was low, almost gentle, as he spoke the words that felt like a death sentence. “Sometimes, the person you once loved may end up killing you,” he said, the twisted satisfaction in his voice unmistakable.

~~~~~

But surrender is never simple in a game of power, revenge, and dangerous desire. Because this man doesn’t just want to own her — he wants to unmake her, unravel her, and turn her fire to ash.

And the most terrifying part? Find out!

The Vicious Scent Of The Mafia's Black Rose

The gunfire cracked through the air like a thunderstorm on judgment day. Chaos erupted. Grown men, strong and battle-hardened, screamed like frightened children. 


Francesco locked eyes with Brinda for a brief, electric moment before he turned and bolted from the room. 


“Bastard! Will you release me?” Brinda’s voice sliced through the noise, but he was already gone. 


Francesco moved with urgency, his boots pounding against the floor as he rushed to his room. 


He yanked open the bathroom door and pressed a hidden button beneath the drawer handle — just like Brinda had when she had sneaked into his space days ago with Bullet. 


The drawer slid open with a soft click, revealing a lethal collection of guns. A wicked smirk curled his lips. He grabbed a few of the deadliest ones, admiring their weight in his hands. 


52 ~ We Brought Death To Your Door