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

For once, I cleared the damn schedule.

No encrypted briefings, no blood-stained reports, no underbosses barging into my office muttering about turf lines or betrayal or missing shipments. I even left my phone face down in the next room,on silent. That alone felt like treason.

Tonight, I wanted something different. Something human.

The kitchen wasn't exactly my battleground of choice. Hell, I had more experience disarming men than peeling garlic. But I stood there anyway,barefoot, sleeves rolled up, apron slung on like a joke I didn't get,and tried to follow a recipe that had no business being this complicated.

Rice burned. Chicken overcooked. The wine bottle I opened wasn't the one meant for food, but I wasn't about to open another.

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