zarawalter8

“Go away from me. Let me be, you monster!” Eira screamed, her voice echoing from behind the room she had closed herself on. Determined more than ever not to see him. She heaved, her chest rising and falling to the pain.”You took everything from me, Draven. You took everything from me!”



“Then take it back, Eira.” Draven called out possessively, “Hate me, fight me, do everything Eira, but don’t dare leave me. I won’t let you do that.”





…



Eira Katz’s world is ripped apart when she is abducted by Draven, a man blinded by grief and vengeance. Accused of murdering the only woman he ever loved—a woman carrying his child—Eira becomes the target of his rage. Held captive, she endures relentless torment, all for a crime she did not Commit.



But when the truth is revealed, the damage is already done. Draven has destroyed her life, killed the man she loved, and left her with nothing. As Eira grapples with the aftermath, she learns she is carrying his child, a bond neither of them can escape.i

Trapped in a cycle of vengeance, guilt, and reluctant dependency, Eira must decide whether to escape her captor or confront the broken man who refuses to let her go. But in a world where pain and passion collide, the line between love and hatred blurs.



Will Eira find freedom, or will she be forever bound to the man who took everything called life away from her?

The Mafia's Little Plaything

The chandeliers sparkled above my head like constellations carved in crystal. Laughter flowed like wine, smooth and just sweet enough to make you forget the undertones of venom in every word exchanged.

This wasn't just a gala,it was a battlefield dressed in silk and lace.

I walked through the ballroom, glass of champagne in hand, wearing the blood-red gown Draven had chosen for me. A distraction, he'd called it. A stage to keep rival syndicates entertained while we shifted power behind velvet curtains.

But I couldn't shake the feeling that eyes were following me too closely. Not the usual admiration or envy,something colder. More deliberate.

I paused near the terrace doors, letting the night air curl against my skin. And then I heard it. A voice I hadn't expected to hear in years.

"She looks good for someone who sold out her own," the man whispered.

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