Blaliy
Blaliy's Books(9)
Whispers Of Retribution
Romance TAYLOR MACKENZIE
At first, I wanted to run away from my life, but I met him, Diego Salvatore. He trained me, helped me become stronger so I could avenge those who hurt me. At first it was clearly business until that night. And now, I want more nights with him, more days with him. This wasn't right, it'll drift me from my vengeance journey, but Diego Salvatore was my man, my very own. However, I'm torn between my hatred towards his father who caused I and my father pain, and his love for me. What's it going to be? Love sex or revenge?
DIEGO SALVATORE.
Taylor was just a nanny, a fucking nanny but somehow she's managed to cloud my thoughts, my visions, my mind and most importantly, my life.
I was drunk that day and she walked in, playing her servant duties and yes I felt like having a woman by my side, she seemed to coorporate and we had sex. It was sex, everyone does it. However, Taylor was different. She felt different, tasted different.
It was supposed to end there but it didn't, I wanted more with her, I wanted so badly to be inside her, over and over. It's fucking killing me, Taylor will be the end of me, but she's just a nanny, why does her presence makes me horny? Maybe she was bought by my father but she's mine and I wouldn't let anyone near or hurt her, not even my own father....
WHISPERS OF RETRIBUTION.
Copyright 2024. Blaliy Lilian
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written consent of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are used fictitiously and are a product of the author's imagination.
Note: This book contains explicit sex scenes and is not suitable for readers below 18. Romance And Medicine
Romance The sound of metal scraping against metal jolted me awake. My eyes fluttered open, but I was met with darkness, my surroundings unfamiliar.
Panic surged through my veins as I realized I was in the backseat of a car, my hands tied behind my back.
I recalled what happened earlier, the note. I was still on the red gown, it was all a lie. Who would want to hurt me, who exactly?
Frantically, I wriggled against the restraints behind me, the knots biting into my skin.
I needed to call for help, anyone at all. "Help!" I screamed, my voice echoing in the confined space. But there was no response, only the eerie silence of my captivity.
Suddenly, the car rumbled to life. My heart raced. What was happening?
I couldn't think as I kicked at the door, desperate to escape, but it wouldn't budge. Tears welled in my eyes as the realization dawned upon me, I might die.
"Please no, no God," I wept, my tears mixing with my makeup but I didn't care, my life was more important. My cries grew louder, more desperate, but still, no one came to my aid, not like it was their fault, because the last thing I could remember was the park, how did I get to God knows where.
More fear consumed me as the car lurched forward, where was it taking me?
Suddenly, the car came to a halt, and my eyes widened in horror. I looked around and realized where I was—the junkyard.
The air was thick with the stench of rust and decay as the car was lifted into the air by a massive crane, heading straight for the crusher.
My world came to a momentary stop. "No! Please, no!" I screamed, my voice raw with terror. I thrashed against my bonds, but it was futile.
"God, no.. please!" More tears streamed down my cheeks as the walls of the car began to close in around me.
My screams reached a deafening pitch as the car crusher began to crush the vehicle. I was inside it. I pounded on the windows, my cries echoing through the empty yard, but there was no one to hear me, no one to save me. The sound of metal groaning and collapsing around me only added to the horror of the moment, and I cried out in anguish, the fear and helplessness consuming me.
I gave up, I had to, there was no point. Amidst the chaos around me, I could only think of one person. Dr. Nick, how on Earth would he find me?
"Oh, God."
Suddenly, a familiar voice shattered the silence. "Jasmin!" it cried out.
And once again, he came for me. Tears filled my eyes as I watched him run towards the car. The crusher might finish what's left of me before he even got to me.
I shut my eyes close as tears flowed down my eyes. Our love was like Medicine mixed with few drops of Romance.....
SOLD TO THE MAFIA KING.
Romance As we reached the main road, my father stopped, seemingly waiting for someone.
"Papa, why are we here?" I questioned, my voice trembling.
"Be quiet, Aria. You ask too many questions," he replied, refusing to meet my gaze.
"Papa?" I called out, concerned as I noticed his trembling hands and perspiring brow. He turned to face me, his eyes filled with anxiety. "What's wrong?" I asked, my worry intensifying. He seemed worn out and stressed, as if he might collapse at any moment.
"Aria," he began, but his sentence was cut short by the squealing of tires approaching us. Not just one car, but two... no, three. Before I could comprehend what was happening, we were surrounded.
The door of the Lamborghini Huracán swung open, and a tall man stepped out. I found myself gaping at him before a black sack was forcefully placed over my head. I struggled, kicking and fighting, but then I heard a distinct click.
"Do anything stupid, and Francesco dies..."
"Francesco? That was my father... my own father..." I tried to calm myself, even though not entirely successfully, as I was thrown into a car. The journey began, and with the sack still covering my face, I had no idea where they were taking me. When the sack was finally removed, I found myself standing before Alessandro Genovese...
SOLD TO THE MAFIA KING
Copyright 2023. Blaliy Lilian.A.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written consent of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are used fictitiously and are a product of the author's imagination.
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