
Introduction
Desperate, she finds refuge at Crimson, a clandestine bar where dangerous men operate unseen. Her blindness makes her the perfect, unseeing witness—until she slaps a drunk customer, only to discover it's Jeremy, her mysterious rescuer.
When Jeremy’s cruel uncle claims Amelia, he intervenes, pulling her into his gilded, dangerous world as his personal maid. Under his roof, their stolen glances and hushed words breed an undeniable desire, a forbidden passion that challenges his family, his engagement, and their very lives.
But Amelia carries a secret deeper than her past, a hidden mark of an identity that could shatter an empire. As three ruthless crime families battle for control, Jeremy must choose between blood loyalty and the woman who makes him see. Amelia must decide: will she claim a birthright she never knew, or forge her own path in a world desperate to use her?
In the darkness, she found her strength. In his violent world, she found her voice. Together, they will prove that true power isn't about what you see—it's about refusing to be invisible.
Chapter 1
AMELIA
The sound of the door closing behind me was final. Not a slam—Mrs. Thomas wasn't cruel enough for that. Just a soft, decisive click that said what eighteen years in the system had taught me: you age out, you're on your own.
No family. No safety net. Just two hundred dollars in an envelope and the address of a hostel in a neighborhood I'd been warned to avoid.
Welcome to adulthood.
I stood on the front steps of St Mary's Orphanage, my duffel bag clutched in both hands, and tried not to let the panic rising in my chest show on my face. The autumn air bit at my cheeks, carrying the smell of exhaust fumes and that particular New York City scent—hot concrete mixed with street vendor food and a thousand other things I couldn't name.
"You'll be fine, Amelia," Mrs Thomas had said, pressing the folded envelope into my hand before gently guiding me outside. "There's a little money in there. Enough for a few nights at a hostel while you find work. You're eighteen now. You're strong. You've always been strong."
Strong.
I'd heard that word my whole life. Strong Amelia. Brave Amelia. The girl who never complained, who learnt to navigate the world without sight, who smiled when people whispered about the "poor blind girl".
But standing alone on these steps with nowhere to go, I didn't feel strong. I felt terrified.
I'd been at St. Mary's since I was eight. Ten years. It was the only real home I remembered. And now, just because I had turned eighteen the previous week, the funding had dried up. I was expected to simply figure it out.
The envelope in my pocket felt impossibly thin.
I breathed in and started down the steps, counting them like I'd done a thousand times before. One, two, three, four, five. My white cane swept in front of me, the familiar tap-tap-tap against concrete grounding me even as my heart hammered.
The sidewalk was crowded. It always was in this part of the city. I could hear snippets of conversation as people passed—a woman on her phone complaining about her boss; two men arguing about a basketball game; a child whining for ice cream. Normal people, living ordinary lives, completely unaware of the blind girl trying not to fall apart beside them.
I'd applied for jobs. Mrs Thomas had helped me. But every interview ended the same way—awkward apologies, promises to "keep your résumé on file", and polite dismissals that all meant the same thing: We don't want to deal with your disability.
My cane hit something soft. A leg.
"Watch it!" A man's voice sounded annoyed.
"Sorry," I mumbled, angling away.
I kept walking, no real destination in mind. Just forward. Away from St Mary's. I was moving away from the only safety I had ever known.
The sounds changed as I moved through the neighbourhood—fewer families, more bass-heavy music bleeding from car windows, and voices that carried an edge. Mrs Thomas had warned me about certain areas and specifically mentioned the territories—Santoro to the west, Volkov to the east, and a narrow strip of neutral ground where some bar called Crimson operated.
"You stay in the middle, Amelia," she'd said. "You should avoid becoming entangled in the conflict between the families."
Disagreements. Such a polite word for what I'd later learn meant bodies and blood.
But I'd lost track of where I was. Every street sounded the same when you couldn't see the landmarks.
My stomach growled. I hadn't eaten since breakfast, and the sun—I could feel its warmth on my face—was definitely past noon now. Maybe setting toward evening.
I needed to find the hostel. I needed to...
Glass shattered somewhere close. Too close for that. I froze.
"You think you can push Volkov product on Santoro territory?" a man's voice snarled, rough and furious. It was the voice of someone used to giving orders. "You think the Family won't notice?"
"It was a mistake—" another voice pleaded, young and desperate.
"Damn right it was a mistake."
More voices now, overlapping. Shouting. I heard scuffling and the sound of bodies hitting metal—was ita car? My pulse spiked.
Run. I needed to run.
But which direction? The voices were in front of me, I thought, but sound bounced off buildings in strange ways. If I ran the wrong way, I'd run straight into—
A gunshot cracked through the air.
I gasped, stumbling backward. My cane clattered to the ground. More shouting. More shots—multiple weapons, the sounds overlapping. People screaming.
Move. MOVE.
I turned, hands outstretched, scrambling for a wall, a doorway, anything. My shoulder slammed into rough brick. Good. I pressed against it, making myself as small as possible, the cold stone scraping through my thin jacket.
"Get down!" someone yelled. "Santoro's men are moving in!"
More gunfire. The sound echoed off buildings, making it impossible to pinpoint the source. My breath came in short, panicked gasps. I couldn't see where the danger was coming from. Couldn't see where to hide.
Something wet splattered against the wall near me—I felt droplets hit my arm. Something warm. The smell was copper and salt.
Blood.
Someone was screaming, high-pitched and desperate, then suddenly cut off.
Footsteps pounded toward me. People running.
"Please," I whispered to no one. To God, maybe. To anyone listening.
A hand clamped onto my arm—rough, urgent.
I screamed.
"Get down!" The voice cut through the chaos like a blade—cold, commanding, the kind that expected instant obedience. "Don't scream. Don't move unless I tell you to."
Strong hands gripped my arms with practised efficiency. I smelled gunpowder, expensive leather, and cologne that probably cost more than a month's rent. The fabric of his jacket was fine wool—I could feel the quality even through my fear.
"I can't—I don't know where—"
"Cazzo," he bit out—Italian, I thought, though I didn't know the word. His arm locked around my waist like a steel band, pulling me forward before I could react. "Move with me or you're dead. Your choice."
He didn't wait for my answer. He simply pulled me forward, leaving me with no choice but to stumble along with him. His body was solid against my side, his grip firm but not painful—controlled strength that suggested he knew exactly how much force to use. His breathing was steady despite the exertion. It was as if running through gunfire while dragging someone had become routine for him.
A phone buzzed in his pocket—once, then twice more in quick succession. He ignored it.
"Santoro!" Someone shouted behind us. "We need you back here!"
He didn't respond. Didn't slow. He simply continued to move forward, keeping me on the move.
There were more shots fired from behind us. Closer. I heard the whine of a bullet ricocheting off brick.
"Fuck," he snarled, his grip tightening. "They hit Mikhail. Move!"
My feet scrambled to keep up, but soon I was barely touching the ground as he half-dragged, half-carried me away from the chaos. I couldn't tell where we were going. All I could sense was the surge of movement, the intensity of his breathing, and the power of his arm encircling me.
Finally, he stopped. He pushed me against a wall in what felt like a confined space. An alley, maybe.
"Stay here. Don't move. Don't make a fucking sound." That's not a request but a command. "If you run, you die. If you scream, you die. Understand?"
"Yes," I managed.
"Good girl."
Then he was gone. I could hear his footsteps retreating, back toward the violence.
I am left alone in the darkness, surrounded by violence. And this is just the first day of my adult life. How can I survive as a blind girl in this cruel world? I could not help but cry and hope some miracle will happen.
Last Chapters
#84 Chapter 84 Investigation
Last Updated: 2/3/2026#83 Chapter 83 Plotting
Last Updated: 2/3/2026#82 Chapter 82 The Hunter
Last Updated: 2/3/2026#81 Chapter 81 The Investigation
Last Updated: 2/3/2026#80 Chapter 80 Cover Up
Last Updated: 2/3/2026#79 Chapter 79 Crossing Boundaries
Last Updated: 2/3/2026#78 Chapter 78 Buried Secret
Last Updated: 2/3/2026#77 Chapter 77 Intimacy and Trust
Last Updated: 2/3/2026#76 Chapter 76 Dinner To Bed
Last Updated: 2/3/2026#75 Chapter 75 Schemes
Last Updated: 2/3/2026
You Might Like 😍
After the Affair: Falling into a Billionaire's Arms
On my birthday, he took her on vacation. On our anniversary, he brought her to our home and made love to her in our bed...
Heartbroken, I tricked him into signing divorce papers.
George remained unconcerned, convinced I would never leave him.
His deceptions continued until the day the divorce was finalized. I threw the papers in his face: "George Capulet, from this moment on, get out of my life!"
Only then did panic flood his eyes as he begged me to stay.
When his calls bombarded my phone later that night, it wasn't me who answered, but my new boyfriend Julian.
"Don't you know," Julian chuckled into the receiver, "that a proper ex-boyfriend should be as quiet as the dead?"
George seethed through gritted teeth: "Put her on the phone!"
"I'm afraid that's impossible."
Julian dropped a gentle kiss on my sleeping form nestled against him. "She's exhausted. She just fell asleep."
Omega Bound
Thane Knight is the alpha of the Midnight Pack of the La Plata Mountain Range, the largest wolf shifter pack in the world. He is an alpha by day and hunts the shifter trafficking ring with his group of mercenaries by night. His hunt for vengeance leads to one raid that changes his life.
Tropes:
Touch her and die/Slow burn romance/Fated Mates/Found family twist/Close circle betrayal/Cinnamon roll for only her/Traumatized heroine/Rare wolf/Hidden powers/Knotting/Nesting/Heats/Luna/Attempted assassination
Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother
"What is wrong with me?
Why does being near him make my skin feel too tight, like I’m wearing a sweater two sizes too small?
It’s just newness, I tell myself firmly.
He’s my boyfirend’s brother.
This is Tyler’s family.
I’m not going to let one cold stare undo that.
**
As a ballet dancer, My life looks perfect—scholarship, starring role, sweet boyfriend Tyler. Until Tyler shows his true colors and his older brother, Asher, comes home.
Asher is a Navy veteran with battle scars and zero patience. He calls me "princess" like it's an insult. I can't stand him.
When My ankle injury forces her to recover at the family lake house, I‘m stuck with both brothers. What starts as mutual hatred slowly turns into something forbidden.
I'm falling for my boyfriend's brother.
**
I hate girls like her.
Entitled.
Delicate.
And still—
Still.
The image of her standing in the doorway, clutching her cardigan tighter around her narrow shoulders, trying to smile through the awkwardness, won’t leave me.
Neither does the memory of Tyler. Leaving her here without a second thought.
I shouldn’t care.
I don’t care.
It’s not my problem if Tyler’s an idiot.
It’s not my business if some spoiled little princess has to walk home in the dark.
I’m not here to rescue anyone.
Especially not her.
Especially not someone like her.
She’s not my problem.
And I’ll make damn sure she never becomes one.
But when my eyes fell on her lips, I wanted her to be mine.
The Prison Project
Can love tame the untouchable? Or will it only fuel the fire and cause chaos amongst the inmates?
Fresh out of high school and suffocating in her dead-end hometown, Margot longs for her escape. Her reckless best friend, Cara, thinks she's found the perfect way out for them both - The Prisoner Project - a controversial program offering a life-changing sum of money in exchange for time spent with maximum-security inmates.
Without hesitation, Cara rushes to sign them up.
Their reward? A one-way ticket into the depths of a prison ruled by gang leaders, mob bosses, and men the guards wouldn't even dare to cross...
At the centre of it all, meets Coban Santorelli - a man colder than ice, darker than midnight, and as deadly as the fire that fuels his inner rage. He knows that the project may very well be his only ticket to freedom - his only ticket to revenge on the one who managed to lock him up and so he must prove that he can learn to love…
Will Margot be the lucky one chosen to help reform him?
Will Coban be capable of bringing something to the table other than just sex?
What starts off as denial may very well grow in to obsession which could then fester in to becoming true love…
A temperamental romance novel.
The mafia princess return
Alpha Nicholas's Little Mate
What? No—wait… oh Moon Goddess, no.
Please tell me you're joking, Lex.
But she's not. I can feel her excitement bubbling under my skin, while all I feel is dread.
We turn the corner, and the scent hits me like a punch to the chest—cinnamon and something impossibly warm. My eyes scan the room until they land on him. Tall. Commanding. Beautiful.
And then, just as quickly… he sees me.
His expression twists.
"Fuck no."
He turns—and runs.
My mate sees me and runs.
Bonnie has spent her entire life being broken down and abused by the people closest to her including her very own twin sister. Alongside her best friend Lilly who also lives a life of hell, they plan to run away while attending the biggest ball of the year while it's being hosted by another pack, only things don't quite go to plan leaving both girls feeling lost and unsure about their futures.
Alpha Nicholas is 28, mateless, and has no plans to change that. It's his turn to host the annual Blue Moon Ball this year and the last thing he expects is to find his mate. What he expects even less is for his mate to be 10 years younger than him and how his body reacts to her. While he tries to refuse to acknowledge that he has met his mate his world is turned upside down after guards catch two she-wolves running through his lands.
Once they are brought to him he finds himself once again facing his mate and discovers that she's hiding secrets that will make him want to kill more than one person.
Can he overcome his feelings towards having a mate and one that is so much younger than him? Will his mate want him after already feeling the sting of his unofficial rejection? Can they both work on letting go of the past and moving forward together or will fate have different plans and keep them apart?
The War God Alpha's Arranged Bride
Yet Alexander made his decision clear to the world: “Evelyn is the only woman I will ever marry.”
The Pack: Rule Number 1 - No Mates
"Let me go," I whimper, my body trembling with need. "I don't want you touching me."
I fall forward onto the bed then turn around to stare at him. The dark tattoos of Domonic's chiseled shoulders, quiver and and expand with the heave of his chest. His deep dimpled smile is full of arrogance as he reaches behind himself to lock the door.
Biting his lip, he stalks toward me, his hand going to the seam of his pants and the thickening bulge there.
"Are you sure you don't want me to touch you?" He whispers, untying the knot and slipping a hand inside. "Because I swear to God, that is all I have been wanting to do. Every single day from the moment you stepped in our bar and I smelled your perfect flavor from across the room."
New to the world of shifters, Draven is human on the run. A beautiful girl who no one could protect. Domonic is the cold Alpha of the Red Wolf Pack. A brotherhood of twelve wolves that live by twelve rules. Rules which they vowed could NEVER be broken.
Especially - Rule Number One - No Mates
When Draven meets Domonic, he knows that she is his mate, but Draven has no idea what a mate is, only that she has fallen in love with a shifter. An Alpha that will break her heart to make her leave. Promising herself, she will never forgive him, she disappears.
But she doesn’t know about the child she’s carrying or that the moment she left, Domonic decided rules were made to be broken - and now will he ever find her again? Will she forgive him?
I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis
Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now—billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn’t mind. I’d crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one?
Wrong.
One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That’s when it hit me—he didn’t love me. He didn’t even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn’t even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup.
So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster—my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise.
Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol.
Enter him.
Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I’d met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes.
It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised.
But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life.
And, as it turned out, the best decision I’d ever made.
Because my one-night stand isn’t just some random guy. He’s richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with.
And now, he’s not letting me go.
The Biker Alpha Who Became My Second Chance Mate
"You're like a sister to me."
Those were the actual words that broke the camel's back.
Not after what just happened. Not after the hot, breathless, soul-shaking night we spent tangled in each other's arms.
I knew from the beginning that Tristan Hayes was a line I shouldn't cross.
He wasn't just anyone, he was my brother's best friend. The man I spent years secretly wanting.
But that night... we were broken. We had just buried our parents. And the grief was too heavy, too real...so I begged him to touch me.
To make me forget. To fill the silence that death left behind.
And he did. He held me like I was something fragile.
Kissed me like I was the only thing he needed to breathe.
Then left me bleeding with six words that burned deeper than rejection ever could.
So, I ran. Away from everything that cost me pain.
Now, five years later, I'm back.
Fresh from rejecting the mate who abused me. Still carrying the scars of a pup I never got to hold.
And the man waiting for me at the airport isn't my brother.
It's Tristan.
And he's not the guy I left behind.
He's a biker.
An Alpha.
And when he looked at me, I knew there was no where else to run to.
Balance of Light and Shadow
Little did she know how much both worlds need her to bring peace and true freedom.
Thornhill Academy
Hunted, haunted, and newly awakened, Allison is dragged into a rebellion built on blood and belief, the same fight her parents died trying to protect. As enemies close in and desire sharpens into something dangerous, she must decide what kind of power she will become. The weapon the Council always wanted. Or the storm that tears their world apart. When Allison rises, kingdoms kneel and when she loves, she loves like war.
Dark Academia | Reverse Harem | Dark Romance | Dark Humour | Action-Packed | Steamy | Unputdownable












