Alive
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Alive's Books and Stories
Her Billionaire CEO's Love Languages
Billionaires “I’m sorry but I can't continue this.
We have both gotten what we intended from fooling the world that we were actually a couple. It's time to go our separate ways Jarek… like we said we would, “ Olivia said, hoping the tone of her voice would not betray her and convey her true need…her true desire.
“Too late Liv.” Jarek said stunning Olivia.
“As a Stark, it’s my duty to uphold the rules of any binding and keep to my end of the bargain but with you…
With you, I plan on breaking every rule out there that exists as long as I keep on being yours.
I can not bear to see you with another. It will kill me…” Jarek replied and the last clause came out as a whisper as he tilted her chin up to face him properly.
“I could go raving mad Miss Forte. Stay with me!”
His last words had stolen the other words she had rehearsed earlier, it had snatched the willpower Olivia thought she had perfectly.
“Kiss me Mr Stark. My name is Olivia and it feels pleasant to meet you, “ Olivia said as she ran her hands from his chest to his shoulders.
He did not have time to react to her sub - introduction before he clasped his lips on hers.
She hummed a moan at the familiarity of his lips that she had thought she would never get to experience again and she earned a groan from him as the ‘supposed’ reuniting kiss, intended to be soft and alluring graduated to something ferocious.
Hands finding buttons, fingers sinking in hair…
*********************
Jarek Stark, the only son to the Stark Empire, was a mystery to the media. They know he exists but no one could tell who exactly he is.
He worked as a lawyer in a law firm and got intrigued by a particular woman who wasn't fascinated by any of his charms.
Her name, Olivia Forte.
A woman with a strong sense of justice for others than herself. She is unaware that in the shadows she has a fan -a stalker - who uses his spare time to keep tabs on her.
He makes no advances towards her because he was aware of the love she had for her boyfriend. That was until he cheated on Olivia. Seeing an opportunity to get close to her, he latches on it.
Would Olivia still desire to be with Jarek when he becomes her boss and reveals his true identity to her and others?
Would their relationship also be able to stand when she finds out his secret and also when he finds out her deleted past?!
The Vampire King's Only Antidote
Fantasy “Lor…Lord Kamaz” Zelda moaned as she held onto Ragnar’s shoulders.
She could feel the temperature of his skin and he was cold to the touch but yet she felt like she was burning.
‘How is it possible that someone this cold could transfer this level of heat?’
He had only placed a kiss on her neck and had run his tongue along a pulsing vein but she could feel how badly her core ached.
He did not want to hold onto her, he was trying all he could so his hands would not grab her and that was the greatest form of torment he felt could come to him.
Not even the angry looking gashes and slashes on his back from the whippings he had gotten could be compared.
“The whole Kingdom almost found out my secret today, little bird…” He said as he brought his nose closer to her neck and took a much needed deep inhale.
He closed his eyes as he savoured her scent…that scent that could only come from her.
No one else had ever smelled so appealing in all his life.
“I don't want you going to any of the chambers meant for the Upper Royals.
I don't want them seeing you. I don't want them even thinking about you.
I could have laid his head to rest today if those fingers of his had touched you.” He said, recollecting how close he was to decapitating his half brother.
“Tell me…Did He Touch You?!” He asked.
Zelda's eyes flew open.
She looked into his eyes and saw his eyes were still swirling a shade of red.
It will be troublesome if he stays this way.
She placed one of her hands on his face and he relished in the warmth of her skin.
“He didn't. You came before he could…” She said.
He nodded his head and his eyes darted to that vein on her neck that was pulling him in. He didn't want to hurt her but yet he could hear the thrum of her blood and not tasting it was maddening enough.
“You need to go" He said and he removed his hands that had cornered her to the wall.
She knew he was withdrawing from her…again.
He was still trying to hold onto his title as the most revered Prince of Noble character, even in this moment because he didn't want to harm her.
Instead of speaking, she stood on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on his lips.
Her lips parted as she landed on her feet, her chest heaving as she wondered what he would do. The red in his eyes glazed, their hearts drummed in their ears and in a unified heartbeat, he lifted her up with his left hand and crashed his lips on hers.
A groan from the depth of his desires quietened in the tangle of their tongues.
She wrapped her legs around him and he leaned into her body on the wall.
Her fingers sunk in his hair...
*****************
Lord Ragnar Kamazotz is a vampire and the first ever of his kind.
The beast in him only recognizes the tune of one lady…his Zeda.
In his earliest years, she was the only person that could calm him down or get him close to sanity with the help of her instrument.
All that stopped when she was hung by the greedy members of the royal family and he slayed all those involved in her death
He survived by relying on The Prophecy that promised her coming back.
Seven centuries later, he meets her again and his world is at peace until scenes from the ancient days rise up in this present one, threatening to kill her…again!
People called her his poison but he called her ‘his Antidote.
Supreme Alpha's Craving
Werewolf "You know I am not spewing nonsense Karen. Yes, your wolf might not be there to witness within you that I am yours but you can't deny the fact that you are drawn towards me, somehow, somewhere within, you know!"
Karen was breathing hard, she could not believe what she just heard. What Ralph said was the truth and that was why she had been trying to push him far from her.
’My mate???’
"But there is no way to prove it" Karen said with her chest heaving up and down.
"There is" Ralph said and his eyes were fixed on hers intently.
"How?" Karen asked and her voice came out as a whisper. She was paralyzed by the scorching blazes of Ralph's eyes and the sincerity she could feel from his words. Ralph leaned into her without his body touching hers and took her lips in his. She wanted to push him off but the strength of his hands held her in place and he deepened the kiss.
She surrendered and her lips soon followed the pace that his, had set. It was gentle, promising and sent fiery messages all over her skin. Ralph soon let go of her hands and placed his body by hers on the bed as the kiss continued and grew into something ferocious. Their tongues began to play tag and their lips sought dominance over the other. Her hands held unto his shirt and his hand lifted the hospital shirt she had on and began to caress the side of her belly.
Karen pulled away from the kiss as she sought air.
"Now, do you know how?" Ralph asked.
*********************
Meet Ralph Hernandez - the Supreme Alpha of all werewolves and lycans alike and his mate - Karen Zane.
She won't bend to his whim because he is the Supreme Alpha, especially when she thinks he is her father's murderer.
Follow them on how Karen makes the cold hearted Supreme Alpha Ralph Hernandez fall helplessly in love with her, only for her to leave him - despite her feelings for him.
Would Ralph be able to find Karen?
Would Karen find out who killed her parents and rescue them from the wickedness of her cousin?
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Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles
Dorine Koestler I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved.
He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again.
"Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports.
For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian.
In return, he treated me like furniture.
He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste.
I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home.
So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco.
I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage.
But I underestimated Dante.
When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat.
He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away. Stripper's Love: I Married My Ex's Uncle
G~Aden I'm a moaning mess as Antonio slams into me from behind. His hips hit me hard, and each deep thrust sends shockwaves through my body.
My breasts bounce with every movement, my eyes roll back, and I moan his name without control. The pleasure he gives me is overwhelming-I can't hold it in.
I feel my walls tighten around his thick length. The pressure builds fast, and then-
I explode around him, my orgasm tearing through me. He groans loud and deep as he releases inside me, his hot seed spilling into me in thick pulses.
Just when I think he's done, his grip shifts. He turns me over and lays me flat on the bed. His dark eyes stare into mine for a moment, filled with raw hunger. I glance down-
He's still hard.
Before I can react, he grabs my wrists, pins me down, and pushes himself inside me again. He fills me completely. My hips rise on instinct, meeting his rhythm. Our bodies move together, locked in a wild, uncontrollable dance.
"You're fucking sweet," he groans, his voice rough and breathless.
"I can't get enough of you... not after that night, Sol," he growls, slamming into me harder. The force of his words and his thrusts make my body shake.
"Come for me," he commands, his voice low and full of heat.
And just like that, my body trembles. Waves of pleasure crash over me. I cry out, shaking with the force of my orgasm.
"Mine," he growls again, louder this time. His voice is feral, wild, like a beast claiming what belongs to him. The sound sends a shiver down my spine.
***
Solene was betrayed, humiliated, and erased by Rowan Brook, the man she once called husband, Solene is left with nothing but her name and a burning hunger for revenge.
She turns to the one man powerful enough to destroy the Brooks family from within: Rowan's estranged and dangerous uncle, Antonio Rodriguez.
He's ruthless. A playboy who never sleeps with the same woman twice. But when Solene walks into his world, he doesn't just break the rules, he creates new ones just for her.
What begins as a calculated game quickly spirals into obsession, power plays, and secrets too deadly to stay buried. Because Solene isn't just anyone's ex... she's the woman they should've never underestimated.
Can she survive the price of revenge? Or will her heart become the next casualty?
And when the truth comes out, will Antonio still choose her... or destroy her?
Too Late: The Spare Daughter Escapes Him
SHANA GRAY I died on a Tuesday.
It wasn't a quick death. It was slow, cold, and meticulously planned by the man who called himself my father.
I was twenty years old.
He needed my kidney to save my sister. The spare part for the golden child. I remember the blinding lights of the operating theater, the sterile smell of betrayal, and the phantom pain of a surgeon's scalpel carving into my flesh while my screams echoed unheard. I remember looking through the observation glass and seeing him-my father, Giovanni Vitiello, the Don of the Chicago Outfit-watching me die with the same detached expression he used when signing a death warrant.
He chose her. He always chose her.
And then, I woke up.
Not in heaven. Not in hell. But in my own bed, a year before my scheduled execution. My body was whole, unscarred. The timeline had reset, a glitch in the cruel matrix of my existence, giving me a second chance I never asked for.
This time, when my father handed me a one-way ticket to London-an exile disguised as a severance package-I didn't cry. I didn't beg. My heart, once a bleeding wound, was now a block of ice.
He didn't know he was talking to a ghost.
He didn't know I had already lived through his ultimate betrayal.
He also didn't know that six months ago, during the city's brutal territory wars, I was the one who saved his most valuable asset. In a secret safe house, I stitched up the wounds of a blinded soldier, a man whose life hung by a thread. He never saw my face. He only knew my voice, the scent of vanilla, and the steady touch of my hands. He called me Sette. Seven. For the seven stitches I put in his shoulder.
That man was Dante Moretti. The Ruthless Capo. The man my sister, Isabella, is now set to marry.
She stole my story. She claimed my actions, my voice, my scent. And Dante, the man who could spot a lie from a mile away, believed the beautiful deception because he wanted it to be true. He wanted the golden girl to be his savior, not the invisible sister who was only ever good for her spare parts.
So I took the ticket. In my past life, I fought them, and they silenced me on an operating table. This time, I will let them have their perfect, gilded lie.
I will go to London. I will disappear. I will let Seraphina Vitiello die on that plane.
But I will not be a victim.
This time, I will not be the lamb led to slaughter.
This time, from the shadows of my exile, I will be the one holding the match. And I will wait, with the patience of the dead, to watch their entire world burn. Because a ghost has nothing to lose, and a queen of ashes has an empire to gain. Marrying The Rival: My Ex-Husband's Despair
Fonz Nadherny I stood outside my husband's study, the perfect mafia wife, only to hear him mocking me as an "ice sculpture" while he entertained his mistress, Aria.
But the betrayal went deeper than infidelity.
A week later, my saddle snapped mid-jump, leaving me with a shattered leg. Lying in the hospital bed, I overheard the conversation that killed the last of my love.
My husband, Alessandro, knew Aria had sabotaged my gear. He knew she could have killed me.
Yet, he told his men to let it go. He called my near-death experience a "lesson" because I had bruised his mistress's ego.
He humiliated me publicly, freezing my accounts to buy family heirlooms for her. He stood by while she threatened to leak our private tapes to the press.
He destroyed my dignity to play the hero for a woman he thought was a helpless orphan.
He had no idea she was a fraud.
He didn't know I had installed micro-cameras throughout the estate while he was busy pampering her.
He didn't know I had hours of footage showing his "innocent" Aria sleeping with his guards, his rivals, and even his staff, laughing about how easy he was to manipulate.
At the annual charity gala, in front of the entire crime family, Alessandro demanded I apologize to her.
I didn't beg. I didn't cry.
I simply connected my drive to the main projector and pressed play. The Unwanted Bride Becomes The City's Queen
Breeze I was the spare daughter of the Vitiello crime family, born solely to provide organs for my golden sister, Isabella.
Four years ago, under the codename "Seven," I nursed Dante Moretti, the Don of Chicago, back to health in a safe house. I was the one who held him in the dark.
But Isabella stole my name, my credit, and the man I loved.
Now, Dante looked at me with nothing but cold disgust, believing her lies.
When a neon sign crashed down on the street, Dante used his body to shield Isabella, leaving me to be crushed under twisted steel.
While Isabella sat in a VIP suite crying over a scratch, I lay broken, listening to my parents discuss if my kidneys were still viable for harvest.
The final straw came at their engagement gala. When Dante saw me wearing the lava stone bracelet I had worn in the safe house, he accused me of stealing it from Isabella.
He ordered my father to punish me.
I took fifty lashes to my back while Dante covered Isabella's eyes, protecting her from the ugly truth.
That night, the love in my heart finally died.
On the morning of their wedding, I handed Dante a gift box containing a cassette tape—the only proof that I was Seven.
Then, I signed the papers disowning my family, threw my phone out the car window, and boarded a one-way flight to Sydney.
By the time Dante listens to that tape and realizes he married a monster, I will be thousands of miles away, never to return. Jilted Pet Becomes The Mafia Queen
Cornelia When I was eight, Dante Moretti pulled me from the fire that killed my family. For ten years, the powerful crime boss was my protector and my god.
Then, he announced his engagement to another woman to unite two criminal empires.
He brought her home and named her the future mistress of the Moretti family.
In front of everyone, his fiancée forced a cheap metal collar around my neck, calling me their pet.
Dante knew I was allergic. He just watched, his eyes cold, and ordered me to take it.
That night, I listened through the walls as he took her to his bed.
I finally understood the promise he’d made me as a child was a lie. I wasn't his family. I was his property.
After a decade of devotion, my love for him finally turned to ash.
So on his birthday, the day he celebrated his new future, I walked out of his gilded cage for good.
A private jet was waiting to take me to my real father—his greatest enemy. Saved By The Ruthless Rival Don
Gavin For nine years, I was the perfect mafia wife. I laundered Marcus Thorne’s money through my design firm, smiled at his dinners, and ignored the lipstick stains on his collars.
I believed in the Omertà of our marriage. I thought my loyalty was my armor.
I was wrong.
On the night of our anniversary gala, a car lost control and barreled straight toward us in the parking lot.
Marcus didn't look at me. Not once.
He lunged for his mistress, Izzy, tackling her to safety behind a concrete pillar.
I was left standing in the open.
The impact threw me like a ragdoll. I lay bleeding on the cold asphalt, my body broken, watching through the haze as my husband frantically checked his mistress for scratches.
"My ankle," she whimpered.
Without a backward glance, he picked her up and carried her to his limousine, leaving me to bleed out on the pavement.
He didn't leave me because he panicked. He left me because I was just a shield he used to protect what he actually loved.
As darkness crept in, a shadow fell over me. It wasn't Marcus.
It was Julian Croft, his sworn rival.
I looked at the empty spot where my husband should have been and made a choice.
"Get me to the hospital," I rasped, staring into the eyes of the enemy.
"And then help me burn his empire to the ground." He Chose The Mistress, Losing His True Queen
Lively I was the Architect who built the digital fortress for the most feared Don in New York.
To the world, I was Brendan Wiggins’s silent, elegant Queen.
But then my burner phone buzzed under the dinner table.
It was a photo from his mistress: a positive pregnancy test.
"Your husband is celebrating right now," the caption read. "You are just the furniture."
I looked across the table at Brendan. He smiled and held my hand, lying to my face without blinking.
He thought he owned me because he saved my life ten years ago.
He told her I was just "functional." That I was a barren asset he kept around to look respectable, while she carried his legacy.
He thought I would accept the disrespect because I had nowhere else to go.
He was wrong.
I didn't want to divorce him—you don't divorce a Don.
And I didn't want to kill him. That was too easy.
I wanted to erase him.
I liquidated fifty million dollars from the offshore accounts only I could access. I destroyed the servers I had built.
Then, I contacted a black-market chemist for a procedure called "Tabula Rasa."
It doesn't kill the body. It wipes the mind clean. A total hard reset of the soul.
On his birthday, while he was out celebrating his bastard son, I drank the vial.
When he finally came home to find the empty house and the melted wedding ring, he realized the truth.
He could burn the world down looking for me, but he would never find his wife.
Because the woman who loved him no longer existed. From Underworld to Crown
rabbit My fiancé, Richard Ahmed, had been unfaithful.
His mistress, Eva Marsh, sent me a provocative video.
In the video, Richard and Eva were passionately kissing, while his friends cheered loudly, "You two are perfect for each other. You should get married."
Richard's parents were holding Eva's hand, saying, "You're the only one we see as part of the family."
I let out a cold laugh and dialed the number of my father, the head of a criminal syndicate. "Get in touch with a team for me. I have a live stream event planned."
"Alright. The condition is that you return to Zlomont and become the new head of the Brooks Group."