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Vader His Little Boy

His Name Is Kenai: Now I Own You, Little Sister

TRIGGER WARNING!!! YOUR MORALS WILL NOT SURVIVE THIS BOOK!!! This story contains themes of obsession, possessiveness, stalking, emotional manipulation, and psychological control. It is unapologetically intense and unsettling in all the right (and wrong) ways. Be guided. *** Eight years ago, Shannon watched her stepbrother get handcuffed and taken to jail for a crime she committed. He took the fall for it without hesitation. Not because he was noble. God, no. But because obsession looks a lot like love when you're seventeen and scared. After that night, she never went to visit him in prison, nor did she reply to any of his letters. She buried him with the past and went on to live a peaceful life without him. But the past never forgets. Eight years later, when she was living a simple, peaceful life, had a decent job and a husband who loved her deeply, Shannon's past came knocking at her door. Strange things start happening... Doors left open. Favorite things mysteriously replaced. Eyes she can't see but feels always watching her. Everyone says she's paranoid. Everyone says He is still in jail. No one believes her when she says she had a STALKER. Her judgment is already upon her because, now, HE is out of prison. And the first place he goes is her doorstep, because he says she owes him her life. And he's come to collect what's his. How far can Shannon run from a man who never stopped loving her in the most terrifying way? A man who'd kill anyone, even her husband, just to make her his? HIS NAME IS KENAI... The Stalker You Never Want To Have. *** If you enjoy slow-burn stalker dynamics and morally gray characters, this one's for you.
velvetdesires2519 · 1.7K Views

His Majesty’s Little Darling

Meredith, or Edith for short, woke up in chains, a slave to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. But things took a turn, and she managed to escape that burning fate. But little did she know that fate had other plans for her. Although she escaped the burning auction house, she was saved by the most unlikely person. One whom she had been warned from childhood to avoid, and if any by chance she ever crosses paths with, she should flee. King Davion Ashbourne. No one knew for certain what he was, but they all feared him. He was a man of many mysteries, and his reputation preceded him. Even other kings and creatures feared him. But Edith found herself drawn to him. Drawn to his darkness. In him, she found a home away from home. In him, she found a soul lonely and in need of saving. …… Excerpt “How about a little game?” He said, his gaze still steady on Edith. Edith ached a brow, finding his suggestion rather amusing. But that changed when he opened his mouth and uttered the following words, “If you win, you may go. But if you lose, I keep you. But no longer as a servant who gets her wages but as a pet of mine.” “May I ask what game?” Edith asked with furrowed brows. She had no I tensions of participating in his games, but she was curious to know what type of game Davion would play. His lips curled beautifully and slowly as he leaned forward, with a finger under her chin, he whispered, “Hide and Seek,” he straightened his posture and continued, “Or as I prefer to call it, The Hnter and the Prey.”
Precious_1 · 38.7K Views

The Mafia Boss Calls Me His Little Ancestor

The monsoon season of Nanyang carried a humid sensuality as Liao Qiao pushed open the hotel’s carved wooden doors, only to overhear Shang Lu’s mocking sneer: “Are you following me? Still not over me?” A sharp reprimand cut through the drama. “Show some respect to your sister-in-law!” The shadow of a black shirt swept over Liao Qiao’s shoulder. Shang Yu exhaled a plume of smoke, his gaze dropping to the crumpled figure on the floor. “Take him to the Dark Hall,” he ordered, his voice like glacial steel. Liao Qiao studied the man’s chiseled profile. This was Shang Yu, the ruthless tycoon of Nanyang. He stood at the rain-soaked veranda, cigarette smoke curling around him, the faint scent of snow pine lingering in the air—a blade sheathed in elegance. Their next meeting unfolded in the underground lounge of a nightclub. Liao Qiao sipped a Mojito, watching Shang Yu stub out his cigar with a snap. “Mr. Yan requests your presence.” Before the bodyguard could finish, she sauntered into the private room. Under crystal chandeliers, Shang Lu retched into a toilet bowl while Shang Yu tapped his fingers on the marble table. “Explain the annulment yourself.” Before the words echoed, Liao Qiao leaned against the doorframe, spinning a car key between her fingers. “I heard Mr. Shang owns a Maybach. Care to lend it for a spin?” On the manicured lawns of Nan Yang Manor, Shang Yu knelt to tend to a cut on her ankle. Liao Qiao traced the mole near his eye, laughter bubbling. “So anxious, Mr. Shang? Could it be…” His hands yanked her into an embrace, his palm pressing against her wounded back. “If it hurts, bite me.” The night Shang Lu’s yacht exploded, Liao Qiao stood by the manor’s floor-to-ceiling windows, watching Shang Yu’s silhouette rigid against the lightning-flashed horizon. Thunder cracked. For the first time, she understood why her father called her “Nanyang’s curse”—she had a knack for shattering and reshaping the trajectories of those around her without rhyme or reason. When Shang Yu returned from Palma, he pressed a platinum card into her palm. “Want to see where you were born?” Liao Qiao traced the intricate engravings, finally deciphering the truth in her father’s indulgent eyes—she was never just a heiress. She was the wildfire he’d always kept burning in his palm.
Js_Hs_0149 · 53.6K Views
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