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Fated To The Mafia Boss's Son novel

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Saving My Cursed Alpha
WerewolfTrigger Warning: 18+, rape, abuse, Mature and sexual content, slavery, violence. "Don't get the ideas that you are ever going to receive anything other than hate from me, Athena. I don't need a mate. I don't need a weak pathetic bond like this to survive," He growled as he grabbed a fistful of my hair and harshly threw me on the bed.I was naked and helpless in front of his menacing eyes."Sebastian, please don't do this..." "I have purchased you from that auction only because you'll come in use to tame my wolf, and you are nothing but a good that I will use every day and night for my pleasure. And your life in hell starts from today." "Please don't..." I begged but none of my words affected him. I backed away till my body hit against the headboard but he dragged me by my ankles and shredded the last piece of fabric, my panties, and threw it away.****After being sold by my parents to auctioneers because of being a wolf-less she-wolf. When fate landed me in my mate's arms from the auction, for once I thought I was finally going to find happiness...someone who'd love me. But it was another hell I landed into.Sebastian Valdez-- was known as the cursed Alpha who killed his own father. Everyone feared him, his barbaric deeds had no bounds, and he did not have a heart. He only had one rule in his life--Thrive in others' pain. But what he did to me was even worse. He snatched my innocence, abused me, raped me every night, hurt me beyond extreme, and left me with only the want to escape from his cage but that was until I got to know what his curse was......I want to save him from the curse, no matter what he has done to me. I love him as his mate, not just a good from the auction...
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His Rogue Princess- Medusa
"Strip" Medusa's breath hitched on hearing his command, she could have argued but it had no room for discussion. She took off the face-covering scarf, her fingers trembled as she bend to slowly slide off her long pink skirt then took off her panties. Her thighs were coated with arousal which dripped down as she stood up parting her long silver hair to a side, arching her back to take off the bralette. Medusa was all naked infront of him, her clothes lying at his feet when she peered at him through her eyelashes. Her thighs clenching on seeing him drinking her with a wild animalistic lust in his eyes which had darkened as his pupils dilated. "Rhy-" "On the bed, face down, ass up." Medusa gasped softly when he took off his long coat throwing it down along with her clothes. "NOW" she didn't need to hear anything after that as she scrambled on the bed getting on all fours arching her back and raising her ass for him. She put her head down turning to a side watching him taking off his belt, her cheeks burning crimson at the exposing position her body was in. She was completely bare to him, her body all for him to do as he wished, to play it like an instrument for himself. All ready for his punishments. "Keep your hands at the back" The bed dipped behind her as he settled on bed. He held both her wrists binding them together with a leather cloth..the rough belt he had taken off. Her heavy breathing was only sound that could be heard and his intense gaze on her was the only thing she could focus on. Minutes passes when he didn't touched Medusa making her squirm. A loud smack upon her butt made her yelp in surprise which soon turned into a wanton moan. His hands massaged her ass digging his fingers as his large calloused palms gently gave them a squeeze. "You will listen to me little girl." His lips traced her earshell whispering it to her.
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Goodbye Scumbag, Hello True Love
all"I'm so over Cassandra." Aidan Ziegler sneers, swirling his wine glass with a lazy smirk. "A real woman is soft and sweet—like Clara. As for her..." In the corner, a glass suddenly shatters in a man's palm. Cassandra Callum stands frozen, holding the cake she made to celebrate their three-year anniversary, eyes locked on the blood trickling down from his sharply defined fingers. Tristan Freeman, head of Freeman Group, slowly wipes his hand clean. His dark gaze sweeps over her tear-reddened eyes. "Ms. Callum, would you like to marry me?" The city explodes with gossip. Everyone thinks a broke little designer has climbed her way into wealth and power— what no one knows is that this marriage is a trap Tristan set five years ago. His private gallery holds over a thousand sketches of her profile—from that day in sophomore year when she crouched in a rainy alley feeding a stray cat, to her backstage at a runway abroad, gently arranging jewelry. Late at night, he stares at security footage, cigarette in hand, as Aidan kneels in a storm, soaked and shaking. Tristan suddenly pulls his delicate wife into his arms. Later, a finance reporter captures the once cold and ruthless Tristan, down on one knee before Cassandra. His hands tremble as he holds a pregnancy test. Cassandra flashes her wedding ring and laughs softly. "Surprised, Mr. Freeman?" Tristan, once known for being sharp and vicious, blinks back tears, then presses a trembling kiss to the faded mark on her ring finger. "Cassie, when you were 22, I wanted to say..." "Say what?" He leans in, his voice hoarse as he whispers, "The cake was really sweet."
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