Dark – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Dark – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:10:12 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Dark – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Breaking the Thief Read Online Jenna Rose http://www.ilovenovels.com/breaking-the-thief-read-online-jenna-rose Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:10:12 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/breaking-the-thief-read-online-jenna-rose Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Novella, Taboo Authors: Jenna Rose Advertisement

Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >21

I knew Chris was dangerous the moment he walked into my bookstore.

He moves quietly through rooms, studying them… Every door. Every window. Every exit.
But when he looks at me, that danger disappears.
He’s quiet. Protective. The kind of man who makes a shy bookstore girl feel safe in a world that suddenly feels too big.
Then I gave him a cup of coffee and I knew my life was about to change. What I didn’t know, was how dangerous that change would be.

Because Chris isn’t the man he pretends to be.
He’s a professional thief.
A man who’s spent eleven years robbing banks and disappearing without a trace. And the blueprints hidden in his closet prove tomorrow will be his biggest job yet.

I should run.
But when Chris looks at me, the ruthless criminal disappears, and the man underneath looks like he’d destroy anyone who tried to take me away.
Now I’m caught between two impossible choices:
Walk away from the only man I’ve ever loved…
Or trust the thief who stole my heart.

A human-written, addictive, instalove romance featuring a dangerous bank robber, an innocent bookstore girl, and a love worth risking everything for. No cheating, no cliffhangers—just obsession, protection, and a guaranteed HEA

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

AVERY

He’s here again.

Third Tuesday in a row. Same time, just after five when the light through the front windows of Worn Spines, the little bookstore where I work, turns amber.

He comes through the door with such confidence you barely even notice. Like this little bookshop on Fifth Avenue in Gaslamp is just another errand on his list. Only nothing about him says errand.

He radiates precision.

He oozes control.

I only notice him because he tries so hard not to be noticed. Plain khakis, black T-shirt, black shoes. Nothing flashy. Nothing fancy. But the way he moves through the store with his shoulders level, eyes scanning, aware of every bit of his surroundings—that’s not how normal people browse for books. That’s how someone walks through a space they’ve already mapped in their mind.

I’m standing behind the counter, pretending to organize the new arrivals display, but I’m really watching him. I’ve been watching him for three weeks now. Which sounds creepy, but I can’t stop myself.

Maybe it’s because I’m eighteen and he’s clearly much older than me. Or maybe it’s because I’m barely scraping by and he has his whole life under control. Maybe it’s because he’s mysterious.

Of course, it doesn’t help that he’s absolutely gorgeous.

Not pretty-boy gorgeous. Not Instagram or TikTok gorgeous. He’s the kind of gorgeous that would make you cross the street away from him at night and then hate yourself for not having the guts to stay near him.

Slicked-back blond hair, well over six feet, a jaw that could have been carved from steel, and a muscular body that even his plain clothes can’t hide. The black T-shirt stretches over his shoulders and chest like it’s seconds from tearing. His arms are thick and veiny, and when he reached for a book last week, I caught the edge of something dark on his bicep. A tattoo. Just the tip of it, disappearing beneath the fabric like a secret.

I’ve been thinking about that tattoo for days, which is crazy. Because I don’t even know his name.

Today, he goes straight to the non-fiction section, pulls out a book like he knew it would be there, then takes a seat in the leather chair by the window like he owns it. He opens the book and starts reading.

Not skimming, not checking his phone. He’s focused.

I tilt my head discretely to read the spine from across the room.

Advanced Security Systems. Electricity, Sensors, and Design.

Interesting.

Not a self-help or a book on politics for this guy. A technical manual on security systems. The kind of thing someone might read if they were trying to get past them…

Stop it, Avery. He’s probably just an engineer or a guy in the field…who just so happens to look like he could snap someone’s neck without even raising his heart rate.

I should leave him alone. But I know I can’t. Quickly, I brew two cups of the shop coffee and walk over to him.

“Just a little light reading?” I say, stopping in front of his chair, holding out a mug for him. He just looks at it, then up at me.

And wow, he’s even more stunning up close. His eyes are ice blue, almost gray, and they beam into me with a focus that I can almost feel. I’m pinned in place. For a full second, he doesn’t speak. He just looks at me, my face, my hands holding the mugs. He’s reading me the way he reads rooms.

“Can I help you with something?” His voice is low. Flat. Not rude exactly, but impenetrable.

“I just brought you a coffee,” I say, holding out the mug. “Anyone sitting in this leather chair gets a free cup. It’s a rule I invented a couple minutes ago.”

Nothing. Not a smile, not even a twitch of the lips.

“I didn’t ask for a coffee.”

“I know, I just thought it would be a nice gesture…”

Something moves behind his eyes, like he’s calculating. Trying to figure out why I’m standing here. What I want. Whether or not I’m a threat.

Me. All five-foot-three of me in my two-year-old Converse and torn up jeans.

“Who sent you over here?” he asks.

“Sent me? Nobody sent me. I work here. Just trying to be friendly.” I glance at his book, trying to change the subject to something he’s more into. “You’re into security systems?”

His jaw tightens, and his eyes narrow. He glances behind him, then looks back at me, squaring his shoulders. “What exactly is your interest in what I’m reading?”

I take a step back. The warmth I walked over with is swept away with something cold. Embarrassment. I drop my eyes. “I’m sorry. If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. Have a nice day.”

I turn to leave, feeling deflated. After three weeks of wondering about this man, thirty seconds of conversation has told me everything I need to know. He’s rude, paranoid, and probably is the kind of person you would cross the street to avoid.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >21

Advertisement
The Death Dealer (Love Like A Loaded Gun #1) Read Online Jenika Snow http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-death-dealer-love-like-a-loaded-gun-1-read-online-jenika-snow Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:09:27 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-death-dealer-love-like-a-loaded-gun-1-read-online-jenika-snow Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Mafia Authors: Jenika Snow Series: Love Like A Loaded Gun Series by Jenika Snow
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 47961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >52

They call me The Death Dealer.

Fifty-five years old. Silver in my hair, violence in my eyes, and twenty-six years of vengeance carved into every scar.

I was paid five million to erase Markom Ivanov, the man who filmed my mother dying when I was seventeen.

I walked into his palace ready to paint the walls with his blood.

Then I saw her.

Anya.

His twenty-three-year-old daughter.

Icy-blue eyes, ivory skin, and a pulse that beat faster the closer I got.

One look and the death in my veins became useless.

I took her instead.

Now she’s naked and my captive. She was meant to be my revenge. She’s becoming the only thing I’ve ever been afraid to lose. But I’d never let her know. I’d never let her see that weakness.

I’ll hunt her if she runs. I’ll burn Moscow to ash if anyone tries to take her from me.

Because the monster hired to kill a king just stole his princess, and a man like me didn’t let go of the one thing that finally made him feel humanThey call me The Death Dealer.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Dmitry

Iwalked through the side door of the gutted cathedral at three in the morning and felt the Moscow wind slice straight through my coat.

Fifty-five winters in this frigid city had taught me the cold wasn’t an enemy anymore. It was the only thing that still felt honest.

Snow hissed against the broken rose window, against the saints whose faces had been shot out by drunks or soldiers or both. One candle burned on the cracked marble altar, throwing weak gold designs that didn’t reach the corners.

That was where Viktor Lebedev waited. He didn’t turn when my boots crunched over shattered glass. He wore a black cashmere coat, collar turned up, and had his gloved hands clasped behind his back like a saint who’d traded salvation for sin.

He finally turned and faced me. The scar that split his face from his right ear to the corner of his mouth caught the candlelight and looked even more distorted.

“Ty opozdal,” he said without looking. You’re late.

“Ya nikogda ne opazdyvayu,” I answered. I’m never late.

He laughed, low and harsh. Viktor was sixty-two years old and still hungry enough to kill for a bigger throne. He took two steps toward me and held out a photograph.

I looked at the man staring at the lens, face stoic, bloodlust in his eyes.

Andrey Ivanov.

Fifty-eight. Fat jowls, beady black eyes, and the same shark smile I’d memorized the year this man’s daughter was still in diapers.

“Pyat' millionov amerikanskikh. Polovina segodnya perevodom. Polovina kogda on perestanet dyshat',” Viktor said. Five million American. Half today by transfer. Half when he stops breathing.

I didn’t touch the picture. I’d carried that face behind my eyes for thirty-eight years. I knew every pore, every wrinkle. I knew the stench of rot that clung to him like cheap cologne. It was the same rot that had filled that basement all those years ago.

“Ya ne delayu tselyye tela,” I told him. “Ya delayu chasti. Vyberi chast’, kotoruyu khochesh’ v podarochnoy upakovke.” I don’t do whole bodies. I do pieces. Pick the part you want gift-wrapped.

Viktor’s scar twitched, but other than that, his expression remained still as stone. “Khorosho. Yazyk, togda. On lzhet slishkom mnogo.” Fine. The tongue, then. He lies too much.

I almost smiled.

They’d called me The Death Dealer since I walked out of a basement with five dead men’s fingers lined up in a cigar case.

Thirty-five years of taking souvenirs.

“Prezhde chem ya soglashus’,” I said, “ya khochu koe-chto.” Before I agree, I want something.

“Ty ne v polozhe—” You’re in no⁠—

“Ya vsegda v polozhenii, chtoby uyti.” I’m always in a position to walk.

Viktor’s eyes narrowed, calculating. Finally, he took the drive and pocketed it and the photograph. “Chё tebe nado?” What do you want?

“Ya ego zamochu za tebya, no informatsiya tol'ko u nego. Mne nado vytyanut' yeyo pered tem, kak ub'yu, tak chto mozhet zatyanut'sya dol'she tvoego dedlayna.” I'll kill him for you, but I need information that only he has. I have to get it out of him before I take him out, so this might take more time than your deadline.

The words came out flat. Just facts, like reciting a grocery list written in blood.

Viktor studied me for a long second before he responded. “Ladno. Glavnoe, chtoby delo bylo sdelano, delai s nim chto khochesh'.” Fine. As long as you get the job done, do with him what you want.

I nodded once. Viktor was old school and produced the contract. It was on thick cream paper, already signed in Viktor’s spidery Cyrillic. I took my knife and sliced the pad of my thumb, pressing it to the paper in a perfect, bloody print beside my name: Dmitry Myasnikov.

But to the world, I had no legal name. I was known to those unfortunate to have heard of my reputation as just The Death Dealer.

My cell buzzed with the first wire transfer. I’d get the rest once the job was done.

“Gala zavtra vecherom,” Viktor said. “Rublyovka dacha. Chornyy galstuk. Ya organizoval formu ofitsianta. Okhrana strozhe, chem pizda devstvennitsy, no ty proskochish’.” Gala tomorrow night. Rublyovka dacha, Andrey’s estate. Black tie. I arranged a waiter’s uniform. Security’s tighter than a virgin’s cunt, but you’ll ghost through.

I said nothing after his crude instructions, and turned to leave.

“Yeshchyo odno, Dima.” One more thing, Dima.

The nickname dug deep. I paused under the broken arch.

“U Andreya yest’ doch’. Zoya. Dvadtsat’ tri. Simpatichnaya shtuchka. Izbalovannaya. Esli ona vstanet u tebya na puti—” Andrey has a daughter. Zoya. Twenty-three. Pretty little thing. Spoiled. If she gets in your way⁠—

“Ya ne ubivayu zhenshchin.” I don’t kill women.

“Ya i ne prosil tebya,” he said, smiling thinly. “Prosto ne day yey sdelat’ tebya glupym. Krasivyye veshchi tak vliyayut na muzhchin tvoyego vozrasta.” I wasn’t asking you to. Just don’t let her make you stupid. Pretty things do that to men your age.

Fifty-five years old and the words still landed like a boot to the ribs. Pretty things. Just like my mother when they broke her on camera. I walked out without answering.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >52

Advertisement
Series Starter (Love Like A Loaded Gun #0.5) Read Online Jenika Snow http://www.ilovenovels.com/series-starter-love-like-a-loaded-gun-0-5-read-online-jenika-snow Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:09:26 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/series-starter-love-like-a-loaded-gun-0-5-read-online-jenika-snow Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Mafia Authors: Jenika Snow Series: Love Like A Loaded Gun Series by Jenika Snow
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 2
Estimated words: 1411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 7(@200wpm)___ 6(@250wpm)___ 5(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 >2

Moscow belonged to the Bratva.

Behind the city’s glittering wealth lied a brutal empire built on loyalty, blood, and power. The men who ruled it were kings in the shadows, feared by their enemies, and obeyed by the soldiers who enforced their will.

But power inside the Bratva was shifting.
Old codes were breaking. New enemies were rising. And the contracts being written now would change everything.
Enter the dangerous world of Love Like a Loaded Gun, where loyalty was tested, power was taken in blood, and love was the most dangerous weapon of all.
The war was only beginning

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

The man had been begging for almost ten minutes when I finally told them to stop.

The warehouse fell silent except for the slow drip of water somewhere in the dark. A single light hung above the center of the room, casting a harsh circle over the concrete floor where the bound man knelt. Blood stained the front of his shirt, and his voice had turned hoarse from repeating the same promises.

He swore he would fix things, that the money would come, and that his mistake would never happen again.

I listened without expression.

At sixty-two, I’d heard every excuse a desperate man could offer. The jagged scar that ran from my ear to the corner of my mouth twisted slightly when I spoke, a permanent reminder of the knife fight decades ago that had nearly killed me.

“Enough,” I said quietly.

That was the cost of doing business in my world. Debts were honored, loyalty was enforced, and betrayal had consequences.

A single gunshot cracked through the warehouse, and his body slumped forward. I looked at the soldier who’d finished the job.

I rose from the metal folding chair and adjusted the cuff of my coat.

“Clean this up,” I said. “You know where to leave the body.”

Outside, the night air of Moscow was sharp and cold. The city stretched beyond the industrial district in a glittering skyline of glass towers and golden domes, beautiful enough to fool anyone who didn’t know what lived beneath it.

Because Moscow belonged to the Bratva.

Behind the wealth and power of the city ran a darker empire built on loyalty, blood, and secrets that could destroy governments. Politicians bowed to us behind closed doors. Judges forgot cases when asked. Police departments learned quickly which investigations were better left unfinished.

We weren’t a gang.

We were an empire.

And I was one of the men who ruled it.

The car waiting for me idled quietly along the curb. When I stepped inside, the driver pulled into traffic without a word, merging onto the empty road and weaving through the city.

Moscow at night was alive in ways most people never noticed. Restaurants overflowed while music pulsed through crowded nightclubs.

But beneath the surface, the city moved to another rhythm entirely.

Money was collected for illicit drugs, weapons, and favors. Crimes were discussed and deals made in the shadows. Political favors traded behind closed doors. Entire industries bending slowly under the influence of men who never appeared in public headlines.

The Bratva moved through the city like blood through veins, unseen but vital.

This was the part no one ever saw, the part that kept everything from collapsing.

Later that night, I sat at the head of a long table inside my private club. The room smelled like leather, vodka, and quiet violence.

The men seated around the table were the kind who ruled cities without ever appearing on a ballot. They’d earned their place by how much blood they’d spilled.

Each member at this table controlled territory and revenue streams that stretched far beyond Moscow.

And tonight the air between them was tight enough to snap.

I studied the men in front of me before speaking.

“Something rotten has crept into our house.” The words settled heavily over the table.

Across the room, a captain shifted in his chair while another stared down into the untouched vodka in front of him. They all knew what I meant, even if the name hadn’t yet been spoken.

Andrey Ivanov.

I had built my empire the old way. Through blood, loyalty, and a code that existed long before Moscow’s modern skyline rose above the city. When the Soviet Union collapsed and chaos swallowed the country whole. But power came with rules.

The Bratva had to remain disciplined if it wanted to survive. Violence was necessary, but it had to remain controlled and strategic. Quiet enough that the outside world never saw the machinery behind the city’s glittering facade.

Some lines were never meant to be crossed.

“You mean Ivanov,” one of the captains said carefully.

I lifted my gaze. “Yes.”

The name spread across the room like smoke. Ivanov was a creature of the post-Soviet chaos, a man who had grown rich exploiting the cracks left behind when the world fell apart.

Where I built influence through weapons shipments and political leverage, Ivanov built his empire on something far darker.

Trafficking.

Women stolen from broken towns and war zones. Girls promised modeling contracts or jobs overseas. Runaways who vanished from train stations and border crossings.

They disappeared into Ivanov’s world and were never seen again.

Private auctions, underground clubs, and wealthy buyers who treated human lives like luxury purchases to be used and discarded.

Flesh trafficking was dirty work, and it was tarnishing everything we’d built.

And if that wasn’t enough, Ivanov had another business whispered about in the darkest corners of the underworld.

Snuff films.

Only the truly sick and depraved admitted to watching them.

These were recordings of suffering, carefully staged horrors sold on encrypted networks to wealthy collectors across the globe. Every detail customized. Every victim disposable.

<<<<1 2 >2

Advertisement
Heart Song Read Online Bella Jewel http://www.ilovenovels.com/heart-song-read-online-bella-jewel Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:09:16 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/heart-song-read-online-bella-jewel Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Dark, MC Authors: Bella Jewel Advertisement

Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >62

Two years ago, Violet ran.
She left behind the betrayal, pain, and man who shattered her heart.
Travis Phoenix.
Once her safe place.
Now a world-famous rockstar drowning in fame, addiction, and regret.
For two years she tried to forget him. Tried to rebuild herself far away from the life that nearly destroyed her.
But some ghosts refuse to stay buried.
Now she’s coming home after an accident gives her no other choice.
She tells herself it’s for closure. Just to make sure he’s okay.
To face the past and move on.
But the moment she sees Travis again, she realizes something has changed.
He’s darker.
More dangerous.
And harder to resist than ever.
The boy she loved is gone, replaced by a man battling demons he can barely control

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PROLOGUE

They say the dying don’t feel the cold. Maybe the body saves its last energy for shock, a neat evolutionary trick. My body seems to have missed that memo, because I feel everything—the rain stinging my face, the warm blood soaking my shirt, the clanging of steel doors when the ambulance crew pulls them open, shouts echoing through the night. Someone with cigarette hands drags me onto a plastic sheet.

I try to blink, but it would seem my eyes have forgotten how to work. Instead, I lie there, piercing droplets of rain hammering into my eyeballs as I stare blankly up at the buzzing neon sign. They’re asking my name, repeatedly, and I know the answer, it’s in there somewhere, but my mouth refuses to cooperate.

I’m surprised how much this doesn’t scare me.

Somehow, my dad found out what happened, because suddenly he’s there, howling, “You better let me see my fuckin’ daughter or so help me God, I will fuckin’ make a scene you won’t forget.”

“Sir! Step back!” a cop, or maybe EMS, bellows back.

I want to tell him it’s okay, but the words keep slapping against the back of my teeth, refusing to escape.

They pack me into the ambulance, and my body feels strangely limp, as if my muscles have just forgotten how to work. My arm slides off the gurney and flops. The paramedic beside me, a young lady who barely looks older than me, smiles down as she takes my hand and continues talking, trying to get answers that I am still unable to give.

Eventually, she works a needle into my vein and I half-laugh, because I can feel the sting of the needle far more than the pain of the bullet that ripped through me only moments ago. My father is still roaring outside, louder than the rain. I wonder if they will let him in. I wouldn’t put it past him to shoot his way in, if need be.

That wouldn’t end well for any of us.

I shift—at least, I try to. My pulse is thumping, relentless. My body wants to give in, float away like the rain over the highway, but I dig in. I don’t want the easy way. I want the part where people are proud of me for surviving.

“Violet, can you squeeze my hand?”

The paramedic is back to attempting questions that I am still not answering.

I imagine what Dad will say when he finally reaches me. I can almost hear his voice, hoarse and bruised, promising he’ll get his shit together. He won’t. It’s not how we’re built. I wonder if Travis knows I’m here. Is he driving recklessly down the road right now, desperate to reach me?

My heart sinks.

Because I already know Travis and my story is over.

They slam the ambulance doors. My gurney rattles, and I can’t tell if I black out again or just lose my grip on the moment, because the next thing I know, I’m being pushed quickly down a hall, the blazing white light above me burning my eyes. Then, there are more hands, more voices, far too much chaos.

“She’s a lucky girl,” someone says, “she should have died instantly from a shot like that.”

I want to say I’m not lucky. Not even unlucky. I just am.

The gurney jerks left and we push through swinging doors. My cheeks prickle with sudden warmth, and my body suddenly feels very alive, like every nerve ending is on fire. Two people descend at once. I fixate on the name stitched onto the taller one’s jacket and try to get my brain to remember it: Jacob. That’s not so hard. His hands move fast, peeling away my layers, until there’s nothing left but the sticky t-shirt and my broken skin.

I hear Chief’s voice again. Of course it didn’t take him long to arrive and make his presence known once more.

They say, “Sir, you have to wait outside,” and the words he throws back at them are enough to make the room fall silent.

They let him in.

“Baby, I’m here. I’m right here. Look at me.”

His eyes scan my face, and his hands keep flexing open and shut around mine. He leans in close, pressing his forehead to mine. He whispers, “Stay with me, kid. Don’t you pull any of that bullshit, you hear me? You’re gonna get through this and tell me all about it on the other side.”

The doctor tells him that he needs to go now, time is up, but he ignores him. Chief’s voice is gravelly as he presses his lips to my forehead. “I love you, Violet. I’m so goddamn sorry.”

I blink—just once, because it feels like it takes every single ounce of strength to pull my eyelids down and shove them back up. I want to grab his arm, or squeeze his hand, or just simply smile, but nothing is working.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >62

Advertisement
Brutal Obsession (Caruso Cosa Nostra #1) Read Online Shandi Boyes http://www.ilovenovels.com/brutal-obsession-caruso-cosa-nostra-1-read-online-shandi-boyes Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:09:13 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/brutal-obsession-caruso-cosa-nostra-1-read-online-shandi-boyes Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Insta-Love, Mafia Authors: Shandi Boyes Series: Caruso Cosa Nostra Series by Shandi Boyes
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >99

Valentina:

The Caruso family is legendary in Sicily. They’re powerful, untouchable, and rumored to have their hands in everything from imports to politics.

I won’t mention the things better left unspoken.

Someone perpetually late and as styleless as she is poor should be an unlikely match for the Don of the Cosa Nostra.

Not only do I get a second glance, I’m also tossed headfirst into a scandal so salacious it’s front-page news.

Since I refuse to rehash my mother’s mistakes, I try to ignore the tension hot enough to burn, but obsession is a brutal game, and Giovanni Caruso never loses.

Giovanni:

Attachments are dangerous.
They make you hesitant.
They make you weak.

And yet, when a fresh face in our great country steps in danger’s path, I respond without considering how my gallantry will favor my family or myself.

For thirty-four years, I discredited my father’s claim that he knew my mother was “it” after only seeing her once.

The instant Valentina Raimondi peered up at me, I understood.

My fixation with the curvaceous beauty is immediate and borderline psychotic, and although obsession is a dangerous thing, I can’t suspend our thrilling game of chase.

Valentina is mine, and I’ll destroy anyone who tries to convince her otherwise… including the woman I’m contracted to marry.

Brutal Obsession is a standalone age-gap mafia romance with a curvy heroine, and the man utterly obsessed with her

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

VALENTINA

I’m late. Again.

While I curse the stupid Maps app as if it’s solely to blame for my tardiness, my inexpensive heels batter the uneven cobblestones in the heart of Carlisle. Their stomps mirror the discouraged honks of the early-morning commuters who loathe as much as I do that peak-hour traffic starts well before dawn.

The sun has barely risen, and its low hang creates shadows on historic architecture I’d slow to admire if I weren’t on a time crunch.

Carlisle is a sunburned metropolis on the north coast of Sicily. Nestled between rolling lemon groves and the sparkling blue waves of the Tyrrhenian Sea, it’s the perfect location for rest and recovery.

Well, that’s what I told myself three months ago when I abandoned everything familiar for this country’s promise of solace.

Willing the blue dot on my phone’s screen to magically fix itself, I follow its directions to the wire. An additional thousand steps don’t resolve my issue. The Maps app continuously leads me to a decommissioned council building instead of the hospital I’m seeking.

Carlisle’s labyrinthine streets mock modern technology, but I doubt I’d fare better with paper maps. All the old buildings painted in white, terracotta, and pale-blue hues look exactly the same. I can’t tell a family-run bakery from a gelato store.

Anger reddens my cheeks when my phone notifies me to turn left.

“There is no left! So how the hell am I meant to turn left?”

I’m already strangling my phone, but my clutch firms enough to crack the screen when a message from Dr. Russo’s secretary pops up. If I don’t arrive at Ospedale San Giorgio’s in ten minutes, Dr. Russo’s secretary will postpone our meeting until after Dr. Russo returns from a six-week international conference.

Determined not to let technology sabotage a mission over a year in the making, I quicken my pace. This morning’s meeting isn’t with the local council’s corrupt building inspector. It’s far more important than hiding the cracks of an unsteady foundation so I don’t end up homeless. This could unravel my entire existence.

“Dio mio,” I mutter, glancing at the time.

I wouldn’t be on such a time crunch if I’d left earlier, but my hair loathes extreme humidity, and I didn’t foresee a dead battery. I’m usually the first to arrive…

Actually, scrap that. Tardiness has become my middle name of late. It isn’t my fault. Carbs are cheap, but they also demand weekly wardrobe tweaks. Since laundry day isn’t until tomorrow, I’m down to the bare basics. My blouse is barely holding together. Three buttons are all that stand between disaster and me. My ample cleavage won’t survive a fourth loss.

After regulating my breathing, which I’m praying will reduce the likelihood of being arrested for public indecency, I close the Maps app and scroll through the Photos app. Carlisle is a patchwork of identical buildings and picturesque coastlines, but if any of the business names match those I’ve passed three times this morning, perhaps sometime within the next century, I’ll escape the maze endeavoring to swallow me whole.

I find the image I’m seeking as a horn blasts in the distance. I hardly notice it. I glue my eyes to my phone’s screen, anxious to identify the name of the giant stone wall blocking my path.

I’m in such a hurry that I don’t register the smoothness of the curb compared to the unevenness of the footpath, nor do I hear the truck hurtling down the main road at a reckless speed. My focus is fixed on the universally known hospital icon on the old-school map I snapped a picture of months ago, and relief surges through me when I realize it’s mere blocks away.

I’m oblivious to the danger roaring my way, but thankfully, not everyone’s brain is as sluggish as mine when denied a morning shot of espresso.

A rough, urgent hand snatches my arm and plucks me out of the path of danger with barely a second to spare. My phone slips from my hand, and before I can catch it, I’m flattened against the cool metal of a dark SUV.

The good Samaritan who saved me from a head-on collision with a truck shields me with his body as the speeding motorist thunders past us. Our near miss is so close that the air whistling from the undercarriage of the truck whips my hair back and rattles my core.

That was a close call.

Too close.

For several heart-thrashing seconds, only my pounding pulse and the fading echo of the truck’s horn fill the silence.

Even with imminent disaster gone, the stranger doesn’t release me from his protective cocoon. I don’t mind. My skyrocketing heart rate is settling, but the spasms in the lower half of my body remain steadfast. They make me wonder if they stem from fear or if they’re associated with something I’ve not experienced in a long time.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >99

Advertisement
Stalkers – A Dark Romance Read Online Loki Renard http://www.ilovenovels.com/stalkers-a-dark-romance-read-online-loki-renard Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:09:06 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/stalkers-a-dark-romance-read-online-loki-renard Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Dark, Erotic Authors: Loki Renard Advertisement

Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >98

She can run, but we'll always hunt her down.

Our pet has been stripped, spanked, and ravaged in her own bed, carried off bound and helpless for further use, and made to come so hard she screams in front of a room full of crime lords.

Each of us has had our turn to make the girl who got our brother killed pay for her sins.

But after tonight Ella will truly be ours forever.

Because tonight we share her for the first time.

Publisher's Stalkers is a standalone romance that includes spankings, rough, intense sexual scenes, and strong D/s themes. If such material offends you, please don't buy this book

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PROLOGUE

Our captive lies before us, a pretty little thing with a face so innocent you wouldn’t believe what she is capable of. That face swims with a combination of guilt, fear, and lust. Is there anything more intoxicating than a pretty girl who knows she deserves to be punished? Who craves it as much as she fears it?

Once upon a time, we thought she was just a girl, a sweet young thing too curious for her own good.

Now I am obsessed with her.

And I’m not the only one.

My brothers are also feasting their eyes on her body, and I know each of them wants her as much as I do. Lustful tension is thick in the air, vengeance and desire making for a heady combination.

“Please let me go,” she whimpers.

“You are beautiful when you beg,” Aiden says. “But you don’t really want to go. What would you go to? Back to a world where you are used by the worst of the worst? Back to being treated like a disposable commodity or worse, a normal girl? No, my dear. We intend to keep you for our own, use you as we see fit, and ensure you atone entirely. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“But this is… you’re going to hurt me.”

“We are going to exact a price for your sins, and yes, it will be painful at times,” he says, elegant as ever. “But you like pain, don’t you? If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“I don’t know what you think I did…”

“Shhh,” he drawls. “The time for arguing is over. The time for amends is beginning…”

“But…”

Thwack!

She lets out a wail as his crop makes sharp, swift contact with her mound. Her face and chest flush with arousal she would deny if only her body wasn’t displaying it in full glory.

“As I said,” Aiden says. “The time for arguing is over. Spread your legs for me. It is time you showed contrition through surrender.”

She hesitates before parting her legs a fraction of an inch.

“More,” Aiden says patiently.

She whimpers and spreads them a little wider still. She knows what is coming. We all do.

“No,” she whines, reaching down with a tentative hand to cover herself.

“Move your hand,” Aiden says with deceptive gentleness.

She keeps it there.

He lifts a brow at her, demanding her obedience through sheer force of will.

She shifts her hand. Smart girl. But it’s too late.

The crop comes back with a hard stroke that catches her directly above her sensitive little bud. Aiden is nothing if not precise.

Her yowl hits a register only cats can hear.

“I told you,” he says. “Do not cover yourself. You are not for yourself anymore. You are for us.”

She whimpers softly, and I almost feel sorry for her.

Then I remember what she did.

What she took from us.

And how she will never, ever be able to give it back.

CHAPTER 1

Leo

No good love story starts with a funeral. But a dark one does.

My brothers and I watch grimly as our youngest brother is prepared to be lowered into the ground. It’s a cold fall day, and leaves are blowing their way into the maw in the earth, dancing over his coffin with the indifference nature likes to display to all tragedies.

It rained overnight, and again this morning. The area around the grave shimmers with gray puddles reflecting the dismal sky.

I have flashes of memory of stamping in puddles like the ones around the grave when we were small. Teddy loved it the most. I can hear his laugh, innocent and small. It is hard to believe that so many years have passed and now we are all grown. There is little innocence left in any of us now. We are adults, and the best of us has been taken too soon.

“Dearly beloved…”

The priest endeavors to start a small graveside service. It is ill-fated indeed.

“Don’t.”

Luke cuts him off with one rough word. Luke is built like a pit bull, all muscle and rage. He’s never been angrier than he is today. I wonder if he’s taken something to wear the edge off. He’s supposed to be sober. Then again, Theodore is supposed to be alive, so I suppose we’re all letting one another down in various ways.

The priest looks at him in surprise.

“Don’t give us that funeral bullshit,” Luke says. “It doesn’t belong to us. We’re not that kind of people. Just say he’s dead and put him in the fucking ground.”

The priest looks at Aiden for confirmation. People do that. He is the eldest of us, and he has a natural demeanor of authority.

Aiden nods. None of us are much for pretty words, and even less for ceremony. Luke is blunt, but right. Theodore is gone, and no amount of pretty morbid words and religious pageantry is going to bring him back, or assuage our grief. Funerals are supposed to be for the living, but we will deal with this loss in our own way. On this day, we are here because you have to put the body in the ground sooner rather than later.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >98

Advertisement
Rise of Ink and Smoke (Frozen Fate #4) Read Online Pam Godwin http://www.ilovenovels.com/rise-of-ink-and-smoke-frozen-fate-4-read-online-pam-godwin Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:09:00 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/rise-of-ink-and-smoke-frozen-fate-4-read-online-pam-godwin Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Suspense, Taboo Authors: Pam Godwin Series: Frozen Fate Series by Pam Godwin
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 215412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 862(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >218

A spinoff of the Frozen Fate trilogy by Pam Godwin, New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author.

Wolfson Strakh fought his way to freedom, and it still isn’t enough.
With ink-stained fingers and his fierce Alaskan family at his side, he should feel whole. Instead, the past clings like scars, leaving a loneliness that won’t release him.
Until Dove Rath blows it apart.
A runaway bride with a rifle, she’s the dangerous fairytale princess of his dreams. But she isn’t here to be saved. She’s here to end her stepbrother, Jag Rath.
Ruinously handsome and lethal behind a keyboard, Jag drags old darkness into Alaska, twisting protection into possession and loyalty into hunger. Curiosity sharpens. Desire flares. Boundaries blur. Secrets stir.
Jag’s past threatens the freedom Wolf bled for, the love he never expected, and the woman caught between them.
Now Wolf stands on another cliff, betting his life on love as everything ignites in a rise of ink and smoke

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

“You smell different when you’re awake.”

~ Eddie B, Whistler Canada

One year ago

I sit in the hollow silence of my prison. No windows to the outside world. No lights to ruin the ambiance of hopelessness. No mouth-breathers to invade my hell.

Just me and my voyeuristic companion.

“Hello, Regret.” I can’t see a dirty godsdamn thing beyond the reach of my hand, but… “I know you’re there.”

Silent and cold, Regret stares back.

“Admiring my banging good looks again?” I stroke my full beard. “Four months in this cage, and I’m still a sexy beast. Jealous?”

No answer. Of course not. Regret doesn’t speak. It seeps. Slithers around my rib cage. Crawls inside my lungs. It’s the dark abyss squeezing my balls with clammy tentacles and yawning in my face, unimpressed.

“Serious question. Why are you so clingy? Got nothing better to do than lurk in the damn corner like a bad habit?”

Regret swells, filling my empty spaces.

I have a lot of those.

“I feel you smothering.” I chuckle bitterly. “Breathing down my neck. Rubbing up inside me like a dirty dick. I get it. I fucked up. Is that what you want to hear?”

A chill pebbles my skin.

I shove off the musty mattress, needing movement. And a smoke.

Titties would be good, too. A couple of supple pillows to rest my weary head. Can’t remember the last time I felt up a girl.

Never sounds accurate.

The room stinks of sweat and stale breath, of time stretching too thin, of Regret festering in my bowels.

I should be dead.

To think, if I hadn’t thrown myself off that cliff, I wouldn’t be trapped in a concrete room without basic necessities like smokes and titties.

Instead, I did the damn thing. I stretched out my arms like Caucasian Jesus, died for mythical reasons, and resurrected downstream, right into the manicured hands of Dr. Try-Hard.

Yeah. My captor is a medical doctor. Good for me. He mended the arrow wound in my arm, dragged me from the brink of death, and locked me in this tomb.

The best part? He has an unhealthy hard-on for the psycho who raised me. Like, he wants to be Denver Strakh.

As if.

Dr. Limp Dick is a cheap imitation. A dollar-store Dahmer. I’ve been here for four months, and he hasn’t tried to rape me or eat me.

Why not?

Why keep me alive if not to fuck my heavenly body ten ways to Sabbath?

I inhale deeply and regret it immediately.

The damp air, ripe with mildew, carries a sharp bite of antiseptic.

Bleach.

Urine.

Blood.

Unthinkable fluids live in these walls.

How many people have died here? How many bodies have rotted down the drain?

I curl my fingers, pressing them to my nose. It’s fine. I’m fine. I just need to think.

The facts are these. If I hadn’t jumped, I’d be dead. I would’ve starved with Frankie and my brothers. Or we would’ve crashed the plane and burned alive.

But I wouldn’t have died alone.

Now you will. Regret fists my stomach. You’ll die a virgin. Caged. Forgotten. Alone.

“What do you want from me? An apology?” My jaw tightens. “Want me to fall on my knees and beg for forgiveness? It won’t change anything. They’re dead. Everyone I love is dead, and I’m not. I wasn’t supposed to make it out. Not without them.”

My insides clench as Regret strengthens its hold.

“You love this, don’t you? Watching me tear myself apart. Watching me drown in my mistakes.”

Regret leans in, waiting.

“I know. You won’t let me forget her. Or them. Or the last thing I said…”

I definitely tried to kill her. She’s dead anyway. We all are.

The echo of my words scrapes through my skull like rusted iron.

“No.” I grip my head. “That was a lie.”

A cruel, desperate lie. One I needed Leo to believe.

I would never hurt Frankie. When I fired that gun on the cliff, I aimed wide, knowing I wouldn’t hit her.

What if she believes the lie? What if she thinks you tried to kill her?

“She’s smarter than that. She knows I only said it so Leo would put a hot one in my chest. But the moron didn’t pull the trigger.”

So I jumped.

And instantly regretted it.

I tried to break the fall, repositioned to absorb the impact, and narrowly avoided a jutting rock. I landed like a fucking baller. I mean, the river was brutal, but I survived. Obviously.

And now you’re trapped. Regret drapes a phantom arm over my shoulders. With me. Keeping me here. Feeding me.

“I can’t escape.”

Don’t pretend you want to escape me. The whisper retreats into the shadows. When you’re ready to talk again, I’ll be here.

I rake my fingers down my face, digging into my beard and filthy skin. I need to focus. I need to get the fuck out of here.

But where the hell is here?

The doctor flew me to this place. I was drugged out of my mind and half-dead as he hauled me from his plane to this outbuilding. But as consciousness flickered in and out, I saw…

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >218

Advertisement
Branded and Broken (Black Hollow #2) Read Online J.L. Beck http://www.ilovenovels.com/branded-and-broken-black-hollow-2-read-online-j-l-beck Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:04:29 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/branded-and-broken-black-hollow-2-read-online-j-l-beck Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Dark, Taboo Authors: J.L. Beck Series: Black Hollow Series by J.L. Beck
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 120186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >127

They say the truth will set you free.
Mine didn’t. It gutted me.
One day, I’m the Bishop family disappointment. Next, I’m heir to the enemy's dynasty.
Confused and angry I’m thrust into a new life, where I’m expected to become the monster my father spent years crafting. But I don’t even know who I am, or who I want to be, and if I have to hurt, then everyone around me will too.
There’s one person who refuses to break, who refuses to deal with my crap.
Allie Porter.
My enemy. The girl raised by the mother I never had—perfect, untouchable, infuriating.
She meets my fire with her own, and it pisses me off almost as much as it pulls me in.
I want her and despise her in the same breath, which is why I keep my distance.
Until the night I save her life.
Now she’s indebted to me, and if she wants to survive she’ll do what I say.
But taming the little filly is nothing like I expected.
The closer we get, the more her truths tear through my assumptions.
She’s not the pampered princess I tried to hate— she’s a survivor. A fighter. A girl drowning in the same darkness I carry. It's then somewhere between hate and obsession, the truth becomes undeniable: I’ll burn this dynasty to ash before I let someone else claim what’s mine

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Allie

“Suppose she just left town and decided she didn’t want to tell anyone?”

I roll my eyes at the lazy theory thrown at me by our esteemed sheriff. Go figure.

How many times do I have to repeat myself? Saintlyn James wouldn’t simply disappear, not even for an hour—let alone days. I grit my teeth against the need to bite back at this bastard.

“You know Saint. Everyone in town knows her. She wouldn’t just leave. That’s not who she is, and even if she did leave, where would she go? Her father is here. I’m here now. Her entire life is here.” He can’t actually expect me to go along with this—this lie.

I guess he does since he merely shrugs. The movement makes me drop my gaze to the badge on the front of his khaki shirt. It gleams in the overhead fluorescent light. What a load of shit. The man wearing that badge should genuinely care about every person in his jurisdiction, yet he barely stops short of yawning in my face.

“The truth is, we all think we know someone. Then they do something wild and shocking, and suddenly, everyone starts actin’ like they never knew them at all. Maybe you don’t really know Saint. Maybe none of us do. People disappear all the time. Sometimes there isn’t a reason. They just take their possessions and go.”

I would laugh at the thought of Saint doing something so out of character if his indifference didn’t make my blood boil. Men like him shouldn’t be in positions of power. Clenching my hand into a tight fist, I slam it on his desk. “I’ve told you numerous times already. She didn’t run away. Something happened to her! Can’t you see that?”

The glares of the other two officers in the room burn into my back. Sure, I’m making a scene, but I want answers, and playing nice only gets you so far. Playing nice is what Saint does. Not me.

He sighs, long and slow. “Listen, I know you care about Saint, but I can only do so much. There was no forced entry at the pastor’s house, and no apparent struggle. We have nothing to lead us to believe that she was taken anywhere or that anything malicious happened.”

I don’t understand how that’s possible. Saint wouldn’t disappear without a word, not on me. Especially me. I mean, yeah, I’ve been away at college, but we’re still best friends. Distance doesn’t change that.

“I don’t understand.” I shake my head, trying to figure out this puzzle. They watched my best friend grow up. They know Saint’s father, and that she lost her mom not all that long ago.

Are they blind? Or just avoiding the truth?

How can they not see how out of character this is for her?

It’s already been almost a week.

Six awful days since I went to Saint’s house to catch up when I got home from college, only to find her gone. The front door had been unlocked, and while Sheriff Tanner was right—it didn’t look like there had been any struggle—the baking supplies she was using were still on the counter, along with a bowl of cookie dough. It was like one second she was there and the next... gone. No text. No note. Nothing.

“I’m sure she’ll turn up.”

I narrow my eyes. “Turn up? Turn up? She’s not a missing pet. She’s a human who disappeared without a word to anyone, and y’all are acting like it’s no big deal.”

Sheriff Tanner sighs again. “That’s not true. We’re doing what we can based on the information and evidence we have.”

“I don’t understand. You’re a police officer, and someone is missing. Shouldn’t you be putting up flyers? Asking people to help look for her? Why are you sitting here doing nothing?” It feels like I’m begging him to do his damn job, and I shouldn’t have to.

Every time I think of Saint, this sick dread threatens to consume me. I should be doing more, asking more questions. I have to do more.

“We’ve asked questions and run surveillance. The best thing to do is wait and see if anyone calls to report somethin’.” Tanner’s features soften. It’s almost like he’s capable of feeling remorse, but he’s not fooling me. He doesn’t really care. He’s pretending. The way he always pretends to a person’s face when they bring him a problem he either can’t or won’t handle. “If I hear anything at all, you’ll be my first call, but making a scene won’t help.”

There’s an ache in my jaw from how hard I clench my mouth shut. Then I can’t. “No, you’re right, but I bet if I had a different last name, you’d be out there looking for her. The only thing that motivates you is money and a fucking order from a Bishop.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >127

Advertisement
Matteo Read Online Clarissa Wild http://www.ilovenovels.com/matteo-read-online-clarissa-wild Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:04:25 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/matteo-read-online-clarissa-wild Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia Authors: Clarissa Wild Advertisement

Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >83

From New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author Clarissa Wild comes a new STANDALONE, full-length MAFIA ROMANCE novel.

To save my mother after she falls dangerously ill, I’m forced into a marriage with Lucio Agostini, a corrupt and malicious Mafia lord set on making me his bride. Lucio’s only interest is to acquire my estranged father’s wealth, and I have no choice if I want my mother to live.
But Lucio’s plans to marry me are thwarted when a rival Mafia family crashes our wedding right before we exchange vows.
My hand in marriage is stolen, and the ring is put around my finger by none other than Matteo De Silva, sworn enemy of Lucio Agostini. He’s callous, headstrong, and dangerous.
In a stubborn quest to avenge his mother, he snatches me at my wedding to use me as a pawn in a devious game. He whisks me away to his mansion, which is nothing more than a luxurious prison for his newlywed wife.
His obsession with destroying Lucio is all that matters to him, even if it costs me my freedom. But I refuse to become collateral. Underneath all that rugged bravado is a wounded man who longs for affection, and I will use his attraction to me against him.
However, my past is laced in despair, and my secrets consume me from the inside out. When everything feels lost, Matteo’s arms offer solace, and his touch calms my mind and sets my senses ablaze. His wicked charms slowly creep their way into my heart until it’s no longer possible for me to deny the growing passion between us.
We both want what the other isn’t willing to give.
A sinful, dirty fight for control is all that’s left.
The only question is … how far are we willing to go?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PLAYLIST

“Muddy Waters” by LP

“Lost In The Fire” by Gesaffelstein & The Weeknd

“Panic Room” by AU/RA

“Dice And Roll” Odetari (Slowed & Reverb)

“Яд” by Erika Lundmoen (Sped up & Reverb) (Also known as “Yad”)

“I Was Never There” by The Weeknd (Slowed & Reverb)

“The Beginning Of The End” by Klergy & Valerie Broussard

“Mateo” by Tove Lo

“All I Need” by Lloyd (Slowed & Reverb)

DEDICATION

For the book girls who swoon over “WHERE IS MY WIFE?!”

and “WHO DID THIS TO YOU?!”

…You’re gonna love this one.

MATTEO

My fingers play with the cold metal of the gun in my pocket while I stare at the men coming into the room.

Finally, those wretched men from the Agostini family decided to join me.

I’ve never dealt with more disgusting filth than them, but my business with them is still unfinished, and I would rather die than let them win.

They scan the room, probably to find cameras or hidden microphones, but I don’t play those kinds of games. They might think I’m a rat, but it only adds insult to injury.

I clear my throat. “Sit.”

The men stop abruptly and look at me, just from my command.

They know not to taunt me.

Finally, they grab two chairs, pull them back, and sit down in front of me.

This private room at Club Triton is perfect for handling all our business. I pay the owners a large sum of money to keep it quiet and make sure no one comes snooping. The owner of this place knows the type of underground things happening at his clubs—the drugs and the guns that I deal in—but he doesn’t care as long as I pay well. And I do pay very fucking well.

I pick up my glass and take a sip of my bourbon, still staring those nitwits down. They’re merely the henchmen of the man I’m really looking for, and I’m pissed that he sent them in his stead.

“Where is he?” I ask.

“Uh, he’s on his way, sir.”

My nostrils flare. Of course, Lucio is late. He knows my business is only with him, and he’s stalling.

He thinks he can play with me after what he did?

I lunge across the table and grab the guy who spoke by the shirt. “You tell that fucker to come in here right now, or I swear to God I will put a bullet in your puny brain.”

Their eyes flutter to my pants, and the pocket in which I keep my gun. They know I’m not fucking playing around. I’m ready to lay waste to everything they hold dear. The Agostinis owe me everything.

The one on the right grabs his phone and dials Lucio’s number, so I let go of his friend and shove him back into his seat.

When Lucio finally picks up, he yells, “What?”

“Did you forget our deal?” My growl booms through the room.

“I’m coming, don’t fucking sweat it.”

“You have one minute, or I’ll put a bullet in both of your men.” I pick up my glass, and I waltz out the door, slamming it shut behind me.

Those two can stay there for all I care. I will be there when Lucio finally grows the balls to show up. He knows better than to taunt the beast.

I walk to the balcony at the far end of the club and look out at the city beyond while I take another sip of my bourbon. The peace and quiet here is a breath of fresh air, calming my roaring heart.

I don’t want to deal with those assholes, but killing them now would do nothing.

It wouldn’t solve my rage, it wouldn’t take away the fucking pain, and I want Lucio to suffer for what he did.

I nearly crush the glass in my hand.

Suddenly, a girl waltzes out of the dance floor and onto the balcony, sniffing loudly. In a fit of rage, she rips an expensive pearl necklace off her neck and chucks it over the balcony while screaming out loud.

Her blond hair flutters in the wind, gorgeous blue eyes clashing with mine, and my God, I am fucking obsessed already.

She stares at me in shock, almost as if she didn’t even realize I was here until it was too late.

What would possess her to throw the necklace? A necklace like that must have been expensive as hell.

“What are you looking at?” she barks.

A smile tugs at my lips.

Spicy … I like it.

But she doesn’t know who she’s talking to.

“Just admiring your rage,” I respond.

She sucks in a breath. “Oh.”

She sounds surprised.

I swirl my glass around and take another sip, while she stares out across the city with me.

“Is there a particular reason you threw those? I’d love to hear it.”

“It means nothing to me. It’s just a goddamn necklace,” she replies, hatred seeping into her voice.

My brow rises. “The man who gave it to you was not a man worthy of your attention.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >83

Advertisement
Skulls and Lace (Book of Legion – Badlands MC #4) Read Online J.A. Huss http://www.ilovenovels.com/skulls-and-lace-book-of-legion-badlands-mc-4-read-online-j-a-huss Thu, 23 Apr 2026 22:53:34 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/skulls-and-lace-book-of-legion-badlands-mc-4-read-online-j-a-huss Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Dark, MC, Novella Authors: J.A. Huss Series: Book of Legion - Badlands MC Series by J.A. Huss
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 38333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 192(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >40

Trigger warning: Inc*st between triplets, violence.

This is a m/m/m short story.

Life’s been hard for the love triplets.
Abusive home life. Cruel kids at school. Hateful town.
The only love they’ve known is each other.

When they turn eighteen, they leave to make a life of their own, free of pain and sadness.
It’s better than they could have ever imagined.

Until new feelings emerge, threatening to destroy the only thing they care about…each other.
They’re brothers. Best friends. Together from the beginning.
Can they be lovers, too, or will this steal the only bit of happiness they’ve ever known?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

The clubhouse door hits the wall as I shoulder it open, the familiar smell of cigarettes and spilled beer doing nothing to mask the iron tang of blood. Blood on my hands. Blood on my shirt. Blood trailing behind us like breadcrumbs through the fucking forest. One month back with my brothers, and already everything's gone to shit.

"Move!" I shout, kicking a chair out of the way as Crow and Dusty struggle through the door behind me, Butch's weight sagging between them. His head lolls forward, chin touching chest. Too much blood loss. Too much time in the truck getting back. The prospects' faces are ghost-white under the fluorescent lights, eyes wide with panic. Kids playing at being outlaws until the bullets start flying.

"Jesus fuck," someone whispers from the bar.

"Not helping," I growl, scanning the room. Too many eyes watching. Too many mouths that'll talk later. "Everyone out. Now."

The bar empties in seconds—hangarounds and weekend warriors all scrambling for the door. Only patched members remain, frozen in place like they're watching a movie they can't pause.

Butch groans, a wet, rattling sound that means there's blood in places it shouldn't be.

"Put him down," I order, clearing empty bottles and ashtrays from the closest table with a sweep of my arm. "Here. Don’t rock him, Dusty! Be careful!"

The prospects lay Butch down, his body heavy and unresponsive as he bleeds out on the table.

I've seen enough gunshot wounds to know this one's bad. The entry wound is a small. A nice, neat hole just below his collarbone. But the exit wound is a ragged crater of flesh.

His skin is gray, his lips blue at the edges.

Fuck. He’s not gonna make it. He’s not gonna make it.

"Where's the fuckin’ doctor?" I demand, pressing my palm against the wound. Blood seeps between my fingers, warm and steady.

Crow shakes his head, swallowing hard. "I’ve called him three times. He didn’t pick up."

"Try again," I snap, meeting his eyes. "And keep trying until he does."

Crow nods, stepping away with his phone pressed to his ear.

"What happened out there?" Ledger asks from somewhere behind me. "That route was supposed to be clean."

Clean. That’s almost funny at this point. I reach for clean bar towels, packing them around the wound. "Ambush. Three trucks came in, no lights on. Like they had night vision. They knew exactly where we'd be. We were in the middle of the drop, piling it up under the tarp behind the gas station on Route 12, when they came burnin’ in. Butch had to abandon his bike and hop in the damn truck. That’s how he got shot.”

“What did they take?” Diesel asks.

“All of it,” I snap. “All of it, Diesel.”

"Well…” Roach shrugs. It could’ve been a coincidence.”

"Bullshit," I scoff. "This is the third time this month something's gone sideways." I press harder on Butch's wound, and he groans. "Someone's feeding information. We’ve got ourselves a fuckin’ rat."

The room goes quiet except for Butch's labored breathing and Crow's desperate voice in the corner, still on the phone.

"Got him!" Crow shouts. "He's twenty minutes out."

"Tell him to make it ten," I order.

Diesel meets my eyes, sighing. He knows it’s true. Things are… not OK here in Badlands. Haven’t been since I got back. “Let me take over,” he says, pushing my hands away from Butch’s wound. I let him do it because I’m so fuckin’ pissed, I might explode if I don’t walk it off.

Diesel places his big hands over the towel that’s already wet with blood while I play the ambush on a loop in my head.

We were loadin’, then… we heard them. But it was fast. There was no time to get out. Then the lights flashed, lit up in three directions. They started shootin’ immediately.

I cannot even believe that Butch was the only one shot. At least a dozen bullets went whizzin’ by me, missin’. But just barely.

I’m lookin’ at the clubhouse door, still lost in the memory, when it swings open and Brick walks through.

Well… finally. “Where the fuck have you been,” I snap. “I’ve been callin’ you for twenty fuckin’ minutes.” I point at Butch on the table.

Brick approaches, unhurried. Like our guys bleed out on tables every day of the fuckin’ week. "Church at noon," he deadpans. “We’ll discuss.” He doesn’t even look at Butch. Doesn't ask what happened. Doesn't offer to help.

What the fuck is happening here? "Did you hear me? I’ve been callin’ you. We were ambushed. Someone knew the route."

Brick's face remains impassive. "Bad luck."

"Bad luck?" I echo, incredulous. "Three times in a month isn't bad luck, Brick. It's a fuckin’ pattern."

Brick’s eyes go narrow. “Are you tryin’ to say somethin’ here, Legion?” His voice is dangerously soft.

The room goes still. Diesel's hands remain steady on Butch's wound, but I can feel the tension radiating from him. Everyone is watching. Waiting to see what I’ll say.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >40