
Vows Written in Blood
Quinn Montclair · Ongoing · 49.1k Words
Introduction
Cold, violent and powerful, the mob boss doesn’t forgive theft. He punishes it. But instead of putting a bullet in her father’s skull, Dante names his terms. Marriage, obedience and an heir within a year.
Mya swears she’ll never want him, never love him, never surrender her fire. But Dante has no intention of letting his unwilling bride remain untouched. He’ll break her defiance and teach her that everything that belongs to him stays his.
Enemies to lovers, forced marriage, age gap and breeding kink.
In Dante’s world, vows aren’t whispered at an altar.
They’re written in blood.
Chapter 1
Mya
Dad has been nervously tapping his fingers against his coffee mug for a week straight. He never fidgets. Since Mom died when I was ten, steadiness has been his religion. Now his pen skitters, his foot drums and he’s permanently distracted.
So when he says he’s going to the office late “to handle some reconciliations,” I follow him.
He doesn’t take the highway into Midtown where his office is. He cuts south, through neighborhoods where the buildings turn from glass to brick, where the streetlights thin out and graffiti thickens.
My heart’s pounding double time when he pulls into a lot that looks like it rents to gangsters. Chain-link fence, razor wire glittering in the light from the one working streetlamp, surrounding a squat rectangle of a warehouse with corrugated sides.
My hands are sweating on the steering wheel despite having the AC turned up to maximum. I turn it off. If I get caught, I want to hear it happening.
He gets out and walks toward the black rectangle of the door. Shoulders rounded, briefcase hugged to his ribs. What the hell is my straitlaced accountant father doing in a place like this?
I wait long enough to count thirty heartbeats. Then I follow, the latex soles of my shoes whispering on gravel.
I’m wearing stupidly expensive sneakers. The kind of thing I’d never normally splurge on, but dad got them for me when I graduated my Business Degree with a First Class distinction six months ago.
I remember the way he cried in the fourth row and shook the dean’s hand afterwards. I wore them proudly when we ate waffles at a diner and he said, “You’re the best thing I ever did, kiddo.”
When the dark door swallows him, I pick up my pace. It’s pitch dark inside, but I can see a light glowing at the end of the corridor and I head in that direction.
I know this is foolish, but if I see he’s in danger, I’ll back away and call 911. Maybe this is some weird hobby and he’s role-playing.
That thought evaporates when I see him kneeling on raw concrete, hands interlaced behind his head. He’s crying without making a sound at first, these silent body-shakes that look like he’s freezing from the bones outward. Then a small sound tears out of him. A high, thin wail that makes the hairs on my arms rise.
Another man stands in front of him, and everything in me tightens around the sight like a fist. He’s holding a gun to my father’s head.
Good sense abandons me and I scream at the sight. It tears out of me, jagged and panicked, and ricochets off metal shelving.
The man with the gun looks up, and for a second, the warehouse disappears and all I can see are his eyes. Ice-cold, glacial blue, the kind of blue I imagine you’d see if you slip through the ice on a semi-frozen lake, just before the water closes over your head.
Then arms wrap around me from behind, banding my torso, lifting my feet clear of the ground like I’m a child.
“What do you want me to do with her, boss?” a voice grumbles into my hair.
The gunman doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t swing the barrel. He doesn’t even lower it. He just looks at me, head tipping a fraction like I’ve just been marked in red ink on his inner radar.
“Put her down,” he says, calm as winter.
The arms hesitate, then loosen. Dad tries to lurch up, but the gun kisses his temple harder and he freezes.
“Who is she?” the gunman asks.
His voice is low and even. It doesn’t scrape, doesn’t boom. It’s measured. The kind of voice that decides when other voices stop forever.
“I’m-” My throat is dry. “I’m his daughter.” I spit the word because the alternative is choking on it. “The daughter of the man you’re about to murder.”
Dad makes a sound like someone stepped on his heart. “Mya,” he sobs. “Sweetheart, no, no, baby, why are you here?”
The blue eyes leave me long enough to slice back to dad. “Your father knows the consequences of stealing from Dante Cardello, and he did it anyway. Now he has to pay for that stupidity.”
I blink. The words don’t make sense stacked like that. Stealing. Consequences. Dante Cardello. I know the last one the way you know the shape of a city skyline from postcards. A rumor of a man, a whisper with a pulse, a headline no one prints.
But the first two? They don’t attach to my father’s face. My father is an accountant. He keeps receipts. He labels spice jars. He cried at Paddington 2, for fuck’s sake.
“Stole what?” I demand. “You have the wrong man. He balances people’s books. He doesn’t work with… people like you.”
Dante’s mouth curves into a dangerous smile. “Someone doesn’t know her daddy as well as she things she does. Your father balanced my books and in the process helped himself to five-point-six million dollars of my money, spread across three shell companies he thought I was too stupid to notice.”
Dante doesn’t look at me when he says it. He looks at my father. “Creative of him. I appreciate creativity. There was even some finesse. Just not quite enough to fool me.”
Dad is sobbing properly now. “I-I was going to put it back. I swear to God, Mr. Cardello, I was-”
“God isn’t on retainer here,” the man says mildly. The gun doesn’t waver.
The blue eyes come back to me slowly, like a camera refocusing. He’s tall and muscular. Not gym-bro big, something leaner and deadlier. Something built for tailored suits and violence.
He’s wearing a navy suit which was obviously tailored to fit him perfectly. The collar of his white shirt is open. No tie. His hair is dark, almost black, a sharp contrast to those icy eyes.
He studies me like he’s tracing a blueprint only he can read.
“How old are you?” he asks.
“Twenty-four.” The answer snaps out. I don’t mean to give it. My mouth betrays me because my brain is flailing and my body is trying out obedience as a last resort.
“Please,” Dad whispers. He’s rocking now, eyes squeezed shut, mouth a little O. “Please, Dante. My daughter… she-she doesn’t have anything to do with this.”
“Evidently,” Dante says. He finally lowers the gun.
Dante’s gaze tracks from Dad to me and I can feel him weighing something.
“What are you going to do?” I ask Dante. He’s the only one whose answer matters. “Shoot him in front of me? Is that something you’d get off on?”
Those blue eyes remain steady on me. There’s no flare of offense, just assessment. “No,” he says. “It’s not a kink. It’s a simple necessity.”
“The consequences,” I say, and the word scrapes my throat, “For stealing from… what, from you? From your… company?”
“Family,” he corrects, mildly again, like we’re talking about an amendment in a contract.
“You followed him,” he says. “The choices you made have dragged you into this.”
I hate that it’s true. I also hate that if I hadn’t followed him, I’d be asleep by now with a face mask on and a podcast murmuring in my ear, and my father would be a corpse cooling on a concrete floor.
“Please,” I say. The word tastes like pennies. I don’t say kill me instead. I’m not that kind of brave. I don’t say I’ll do anything, because the way he’s looking at me makes anything suddenly seem enormous, a canyon I could fall into and never climb out of.
Dante doesn’t answer immediately. He holsters the gun. The absence of it pointing at anyone should make me feel safer. It doesn’t.
I take two steps and put myself between my father and the man who says family like a threat.
Up close, Dad looks old in a way he never has to me. There’s sweat shining on his top lip, a tremor in his mouth he’s trying to clamp down. I want to press my forehead to his and make a childish wish.
Dante watches the way a hawk watches a field mouse. Nothing about me is lost on him. Not the tremor in my hand. Not the way my body angles, protective and useless.
“You’re brave,” he says like it’s data. “Or foolish.”
“Those are cousins,” I say. My voice still shakes. I use it anyway.
His attention lingers on my face another beat. On my eyes, my mouth, the pulse banging in my throat like it wants out. Then he looks at my father, and if the cold in those eyes was a lake before, now it freezes over.
Every line of him slots into place, decisions assembling in silence. “There were consequences to be paid,” he says, voice so soft I have to lean in to catch it. “And there still are.”
Dad makes a broken little sound. “Please,” he whispers.
Dante’s gaze slides back to me. Something new enters it. “For theft,” he says, “The consequence is death.”
He lets that hang, like a bell whose sound you feel more than hear. “But I find myself inclined,” his eyes hold mine, steady and unblinking, “To negotiate.”
My skin prickles. Every nerve stands at attention. I have the sudden, absurd, body-deep certainty that my life is about to fork.
My mouth is dry. “What do you want?” I ask, and the question is threadbare with fear.
He doesn’t answer immediately. He steps closer, into my space, until I can see the thread in his collar and smell his expensive cologne.
When he speaks, it’s quiet enough that it belongs to just us, and somehow that’s worse.
“Everything that’s mine,” he says, “Stays mine. Now you and I have something to discuss in private.”
Last Chapters
#34 Chapter 34 Chapter 34 – Retention
Last Updated: 1/29/2026#33 Chapter 33 Chapter 33 – The Punishment
Last Updated: 1/29/2026#32 Chapter 32 Chapter 32 – The Judgment
Last Updated: 1/29/2026#31 Chapter 31 Chapter 31 – The Reckoning
Last Updated: 1/29/2026#30 Chapter 30 Chapter 30 – The Scramble
Last Updated: 1/29/2026#29 Chapter 29 Chapter 29 – The Doctor’s Call
Last Updated: 1/29/2026#28 Chapter 28 Chapter 28 – Hidden Wires and Craving
Last Updated: 1/29/2026#27 Chapter 27 Chapter 27 – The Waiting Game
Last Updated: 1/29/2026#26 Chapter 26 Chapter 26 – The Test
Last Updated: 1/29/2026#25 Chapter 25 Chapter 25 – Lessons in Obedience
Last Updated: 1/29/2026
You Might Like 😍
Let Them Kneel
Cast out by her pack. Forgotten by the Lycans.
She lived among humans—quiet, invisible, tucked away in a town no one looked at twice.
But when her first heat comes without warning, everything changes.
Her body ignites. Her instincts scream. And something primal stirs beneath her skin—
summoning a big, bad Alpha who knows exactly how to quench her fire.
When he claims her, it’s ecstasy and ruin.
For the first time, she believes she’s been accepted.
Seen.
Chosen.
Until he leaves her the next morning—
like a secret never to be spoken.
But Kaelani is not what they thought.
Not wolfless. Not weak.
There is something ancient inside her. Something powerful. And it’s waking.
And when it does—
they’ll all remember the girl they tried to erase.
Especially him.
She’ll be the dream he keeps chasing… the one thing that ever made him feel alive.
Because secrets never stay buried.
And neither do dreams.
Lightborn: The Demon’s Bond
From Sacrificed Slave to the Dragon King's Obsession
His fangs glinted as he gripped my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. Dragon scales shimmered along his neck, breath scorching my skin.
"Your Majesty... I beg—" He shoved me onto the bed. Silk tore with a sharp rip, cold air rushing over my exposed body.
"Scared?" He smirked, palm sliding down my waist, fingers tracing slow, burning circles. "Yet you shiver... not from cold."
I lunged for the candlestick, but he caught my wrist, pinning it overhead. His knee forced my legs apart.
"When your father gave you to me," his lips brushed my ear, voice a dark rumble, "you were already mine."
On the eve of freedom after ten years of servitude, Lina Valeria stood one night away from reuniting with her betrothed. But Dragon King Augustus condemned her to the Abyss Mines on false charges—a trap forged from obsessive desire.
Augustus Ashenwing, Supreme Sovereign of Skyhold Citadel, is ruthless and feared by all races. His obsession stems from ancient grudges and dragonkind's most dangerous instinct: possessive desire. He demands her submission, binding her to his throne as his consort.
From prisoner to queen, Lina battles him through court intrigue and twisted passion—fighting for her mother, her freedom, her dignity.
Yet this cold-blooded tyrant reserves all tenderness for her alone. He indulges her temper, bends his pride, compromises without limit—anything to see her smile. Gradually, her heart wavers. But loving him means betraying Kain, who waited eleven years. Torn between duty and desire, she drowns in agonizing guilt.
Love and hatred intertwined—a forbidden dragon romance in a realm of oppression.
The Alpha's Stripper Mate
"What?" It was out of my mouth before I could stop it. I did not wait for him to answer me, I walked toward him.
"Dance on my lap."
My head screamed at me to turn around and run. But my whole body responded to his command.
"Yes, Alpha," I pulled my dress over my body, it dropped over my head and fell to the ground behind me. I was left in nothing but my matching bra and thong. My hands covered my chest on reflex.
"Let me see."
My hands dropped to my sides.
I lowered myself into his lap, facing him. His eyes peered into mine, and I could feel his hot breath fan my face. His dick responded to all my moves, hardening against my now-moist vagina. I swallowed hard, allowing my lips to part in a ragged breath. His hands trailed up to my waist.
"No touching."
At the tender age of eleven, JoJo Wyatt was forced to grow up far sooner than she should have. Born to a cruel father and a weak mother, she quickly realized she had to become the breadwinner for herself and her sister. Nothing else mattered to her, not even the hottest men. In fact, she despised them. After one horrific night, she swore never to have any contact with the male species again. That was, until she started working for him as his stripper.
Meanwhile, Alpha Lake Rush, thirty, was the most feared Alpha in the country. Burdened by his own share of life's struggles, he had learned only to be cruel and reckless, rejecting not one but two mates. But what happens when he discovers yet another mate, and she turns out to be his stripper?
Game of Destiny
When Finlay finds her, she is living among humans. He is smitten by the stubborn wolf that refuse to acknowledge his existence. She may not be his mate, but he wants her to be a part of his pack, latent wolf or not.
Amie cant resist the Alpha that comes into her life and drags her back into pack life. Not only does she find herself happier than she has been in a long time, her wolf finally comes to her. Finlay isn't her mate, but he becomes her best friend. Together with the other top wolves in the pack, they work to create the best and strongest pack.
When it's time for the pack games, the event that decides the packs rank for the coming ten year, Amie needs to face her old pack. When she sees the man that rejected her for the first time in ten years, everything she thought she knew is turned around. Amie and Finlay need to adapt to the new reality and find a way forward for their pack. But will the curve ball split them apart?
HER ALPHA, HER SAVIOUR
Kane Hellboud, charm and wealth personified, wanted only me in exchange for her treatment. No cameras, isolation, or noose-like rules were part of the deal. Behind his smile? Cold, violent possessiveness that destroyed our fake marriage.
Most of all, I didn’t know the supernatural walked among us, hiding in the cracks of ordinary life. Not until Abel Stone stepped into mine—dark-eyed, sharp-tongued, and oozing dangerous promises. He’s my new boss. He shouldn’t make my skin tingle or my pulse race. I shouldn’t feel this primal pull, this illogical recognition that tugs at something deep in my bones.
Around him, lights burst, electronics fry, and something ancient in me awakens.
Kane feels it. His grip tightens, punishments turn brutal, and he hides the truth of what I am.
Trapped between two powerful men, I’m no prey, no pawn—no helpless victim.
Prisons burn. Monsters bleed. As for me? I'm the storm in skin—deadly beyond suspicion.
The Deadly Mafia Princess
Her gang take the matter in their own hands, to try to save their leader from the horror of her home. What none of them know, they wasn’t her real parents, and now Ro will be sent away to live with her real family. That makes her closest members in her gang pack up and move as well. They don’t want to be far away from their leader.
Owned By My Cold-Hearted Psychotic Straight Boss
“Please, what?”
I ran my wet tongue through my dry lips. Voice barely above a whisper. “Please… please... please make me… make me… make me your little bitch.”
The words tasted bitter and filthy on my tongue. I hated myself for saying them. Hated how my cock twitched when I did.
“I can’t hear you, Jones,” He said, voice hard, low and commanding. “Louder.”
I swallowed again, eyes stinging. “Please make me your little bitch.”
“A little louder.”
My cheeks burned. I forced the words out stronger this time. “Please make me your little bitch.”
He smirked, slow and satisfied. The look in his eyes made my stomach flip.
“Good boy,” He murmured. “Now listen carefully, Jones. If you agree to this, you’re mine. Completely. You don't look at other men. You don’t think about them. You don’t even dream about them. Everything about you; your mouth, your ass, your cock, your body… even your thoughts, belongs to me. All of it. I get to treat and use you however and whenever I want. Rough. Gentle. Mean. Filthy. You take it all. And you praise me for it. Understood?”
I hesitated, heart pounding so hard I thought it was going to explode. The last bit of resistance flickered. My mind was screaming no; to get up, run and never look back.
“Well?” He urged, thumb still holding my chin.
I closed my eyes for half a second, detesting every inch of my being. Then I nodded, voice small. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes… I understand.”
“Good.”
...
Shane Blackwood is his name.
And he's a monster.
He's toxic, cruel and psychotic beyond your wildest imagination.
I knew all this.
And yet, I signed that stupid agreement.
And now... he owns me.
Completely.
There's no escape.
[This is a dark erotica MM. Rated 18+]
The mafia princess return
The Game of Claiming
A drunken bet becomes their private game: win the maid.
The rules?
Don’t let the others know you’re falling for her.
And never, ever let her leave.
But each brother plays differently—
The eldest buys her obedience.
The second steals her breath.
The third corners her in the dark.
The youngest ruins anyone who touches her.
Lila isn’t sure if she’s a player in their game… or the prize they’ll destroy each other to claim
The Spy Who Left
"I still can't believe she actually did it. Aria Hart, filing for divorce. Who saw that coming?"
"How long do we think it'll take before she comes crawling back?" Another voice joins the conversation.
"Three days," Victoria declares. "Five at most. She has no money, no skills, no family. Where's she going to go?"
When Aria Chen divorced billionaire Leon Hart, New York's elite sneered, betting she'd crawl back within days. She never did.
Three years later, the world is rocked when Dr. Aria Vale, CEO of a revolutionary cybersecurity empire, steps into the spotlight. The mysterious genius who built a billion-dollar company from nothing is none other than Leon's discarded wife, the woman everyone thought was just a pretty ornament.
Now, every powerful man wants the queen Leon threw away a renowned scientist seeking partnership, a financial titan proposing an empire, and an actor offering devotion. Each sees the brilliance Leon ignored.
Then Leon discovers the truth: Aria's sacrifices, her secret double life, and the daughter she's been raising without him. For the first time, the man who once took her for granted must fight for her love. But can he compete with men who valued her from the beginning?
A story of love, betrayal, and power where the king must kneel before the queen who never needed saving.
The Family Books 1-3 (A Mafia romance)
The saint to my sinner. with her innocent eyes and devilish curves.
A Madonna that was meant to be admired but never touched.
Until someone took that innocence from her.
She left.
The darkness in my heart was finally complete.
I avenged her, I killed for her, but she never came back.
Until I saw her again. An angel dancing around a pole for money.
She didn’t know I owned that club. She didn’t know I was watching.
This time I won’t let her escape.
I will make her back into the girl I knew.
Whether she likes it or not.
2/ Judge and Jury- I can’t stop watching her.
I’m not even sure I want to.
Taylor Lawson, blonde, beautiful, and totally oblivious to how much dangers she’s in.
She’s also the one juror in my upcoming murder trial that hasn’t been bought.
The one who can put me behind bars for a very long time.
I know I should execute her.
After all that’s what I do.
I am the Judge.
I eliminate threats to The Family.
And Taylor is a threat.
But I don’t want to kill her.
Possessing her, making her love me seems like a much better plan for this particular Juror.
3/ Rags and Ritches-












