Trigger Warning ⚠️ ‼️ This book contains explicit sexual content, feral dominance, psychological obsession, sadistic control, graphic violence, degradation, and a brutal breeding kink. For mature readers only. Read at your own risk…or give in to the madness. She was just coming off a night shift. Scrubs still on. Exhausted. Bone-deep tired from another fourteen hours in the ER. She wanted food. A hot shower. Silence. What she got was blood. And him. Isadora Romano, twenty..six, top of her med school class and two years into her residency, made one mistake..she took the alley behind St. Mercy’s Hospital to avoid the rain. There, under flickering streetlights and the shadow of a gun, she watched a man get executed at close range. And the monster holding the gun? Dominic. Valenzo Head of the Valenzo crime family. Cold. Untouchable. Ruthless. He kills without flinching and fucks like it’s war. No one sees him and lives. No one touches him and breathes. But something about her made him stop. She should’ve screamed. Begged. Run. She just stared. He saw it in her eyes..curiosity. Fear. Heat. So he made a decision. “You’re mine now, little doctor. And the only thing you’ll be saving… is your breath when I’m done with you.” Now she’s trapped in a world of blood, diamonds, and depravity. Torn between what’s right and the man who ruins her every time. Because Dominic doesn’t make love. He claims. He destroys. He fucks until you forget who you were. And every time she swears she’s done, He makes her beg. This isn’t a love story. This is obsession. This is power. This is the kind of dark you don’t come back from.
Lihat lebih banyakDominic didn’t even blink.His hand still rested on her inner thigh, skin-to-skin where the jacket had slid open. Thumb lazily rubbing back and forth like he was petting something that already belonged to him.“Let me out of this fucking car!” she shrieked, turning toward him. “What the fuck are you doing?! You can’t just…just…”Her voice cracked again.“I’m not your fucking toy!”Still, he said nothing as he kept on driving. Then the car turned off the road. Onto a path darker than the night outside.And he pulled over.The engine idled.He unbuckled his belt.Turned to her.His eyes were calm. Too calm. Too still. Too full of fucking fire.Then…he leaned closer.“You done?” he asked softly, almost like he cared.She snapped.Her hand came up, fast. Her palm cracked across his cheek so hard her own fingers stungHis face turned with the impct of the slap as his jaw flexed.Silence.Then…he looked back at her.Licked the blood from his lip.And smiled.“There she is.”She barely had t
“Here.” She flinched as something hit her lap. Heavy. Smelling of leather, smoke, and something darker..him. It was a jacket. His. The same one she’d seen him kill in. She stared at it. Couldn’t even lift her hands at first. Her body was still trembling…every nerve buzzing, every inch of skin flushed and oversensitive from the orgasm he’d ripped out of her with nothing but fingers and fury. Her thighs were sticky. Her lips swollen. Her chest bare and glistening with sweat and shame. And now he expected her to wear his scent? He expected her to wear him? She pulled it on anyway. Because she didn’t want to see what he’d do if she didn’t. Did she want to find out? Hell yeah. But was she scared. Definitely. Her hands moved like they weren’t hers, trembling as she pulled the leather around her body. The sleeves swallowed her arms. The scent of him wrapped around her, into her, through her. It was suffocating. Consuming. His scent made her stomach twist. He didn’t look at her.
She didn’t even realize the door had slammed shut until she heard the click of it. The metallic sound of the door was like a coffin sealing shut. Like her fate was no longer hers to write.Dominic’s palm gripped the back of her neck, shoving her forward like a misbehaving animal before she could even whimper. She hit the leather seat chest-first, gasping, her bare skin sticking to the cold seat as her soaked jeans squelched under her.He moved around the car with slow, terrifying calmness and a little smirk on his face making his little dimples visible. He didn’t rush. He wasn’t angry.But worse..He was in control.She didn’t try to escape. Not because she didn’t want to, but because her body wouldn’t fucking move.Not after what he whispered.Not after what he promised.The driver door creaked open. He got in without a word. The silence between them was loud..so loud it felt like her own heartbeat was slamming against the windows.Then..click.The seatbelt whipped across her body.
“Please sir. I’m begging you” she breathed. So soft it barely existed. Like her last shred of will had shattered on her tongue. He grabbed her throat again. Not gentle. Not hesitant. Not merciful. He wrapped his fingers around her neck like he fucking owned it, like it wasn’t part of her anymore but an extension of him. Her breath hitched. Her hands flew up to his wrist, those fragile fingers clawing at his grip, but it only made his cock harder. His eyes locked onto hers, burning..furious, hungry, unholy. “Do you have any fucking idea how pretty you look like this?” He squeezed just enough to make her eyes widen and her thighs twitch against each other like a desperate, soaked little slut. “You’re dripping. Weak. Covered in your own piss. And you’re still whimpering like you think I’ll let you go.” His voice was a growl dragged through a smirk, sharp and brutal and so goddamn sure of her destruction. His lips ghosted her ear, searing and sinful. “That’s the fucking problem
Another man was on his knees.Slumped forward. His chest was rising in short, sharp bursts like every breath was borrowed. His skin was slick with blood, thick trails of it pouring from his split lip, down his chin, and onto the already soaked. One eye was swollen shut. The other barely held consciousness. His face..bruised, beaten, broken beyond recognition. The other man stood above him, pointing a gun towards him. His shirt clung to his frame, soaked from both rain and blood, the sleeves rolled up past his forearms, revealing knuckles skinned raw and red. He held the pistol like it was an extension of his own body. Effortless. Natural. Made to kill.He stepped closer.The man on his knees flinched, a pained grunt crawling up his throat.He crouched.One hand gripped the man’s chin, forcing his battered face upward. His own face stayed cold as he whispered into the man’s face. “Tradire la famiglia è come pugnalare Dio. E tu, Diego, hai scelto l’inferno. Ora sentilo bruciare.”[To
Meanwhile, in the confined space of an hospital, twenty-three-year-old Dr. Isadora Bell had just clocked out after a grueling double shift at St. Meridan General. Her body ached in places she didn’t know could ache, and her mind was still caught between the beep of monitors and the scream of a mother whose child hadn’t made it. She reached her locker in the residents’ lounge, peeled off her stethoscope, and tossed it in with a sigh that came from her soul. She ran a hand through her curls, eyes heavy, just as two interns…both fresh out of med school…poked their heads into the room. “Dr. Bell,” one of them said, nervous, clinging to a clipboard. “It’s really coming down out there.” She glanced out the narrow hallway window. The sky looked like it had cracked open and the wind had picked up enough to rattle the glass. Isadora exhaled and grabbed her hoodie off the chair. “Y’all better head home,” she said, voice soft as she turned to the interns that was with her . “This
“DO NOT FUCKING PLAY WITH ME, DIEGO!” Dominic Valenzo’s roar ripped through the alley as he stepped further clenching his jaw. “WHERE THE HELL IS MY MONEY?!” Before Diego could even blink, Dominic’s fist slammed into his jaw, a brutal crunch of bone meeting bone. Diego’s head whipped back, blood bursting from his lips as his body crashed to the ground like a filth. He was more than just a soldier to Dominic. He was Dominic’s first. The first man to swear loyalty. The first man Dominic pulled from the gutters, cleaned up, gave a name, a purpose, a family. For over a decade, Diego was Dominic’s right hand. But beneath that loyalty, something festered. Jealousy. Dominic didn’t let up. He stalked forward, eyes black with fury, his breath sharp and ragged like a man on the edge of slaughter. He grabbed Diego by the collar, dragging him up to his knees, and slammed him against the freezing brick wall. “You thieving little fuck,” Dominic spat. “YOU THINK YOU COULD STEAL FROM ME AND
“DO NOT FUCKING PLAY WITH ME, DIEGO!” Dominic Valenzo’s roar ripped through the alley as he stepped further clenching his jaw. “WHERE THE HELL IS MY MONEY?!” Before Diego could even blink, Dominic’s fist slammed into his jaw, a brutal crunch of bone meeting bone. Diego’s head whipped back, blood bursting from his lips as his body crashed to the ground like a filth. He was more than just a soldier to Dominic. He was Dominic’s first. The first man to swear loyalty. The first man Dominic pulled from the gutters, cleaned up, gave a name, a purpose, a family. For over a decade, Diego was Dominic’s right hand. But beneath that loyalty, something festered. Jealousy. Dominic didn’t let up. He stalked forward, eyes black with fury, his breath sharp and ragged like a man on the edge of slaughter. He grabbed Diego by the collar, dragging him up to his knees, and slammed him against the freezing brick wall. “You thieving little fuck,” Dominic spat. “YOU THINK YOU COULD STEAL FROM ME AND...
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