• 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐌𝐂 × 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐌𝐌𝐂 I didn't get distracted. Not by beauty. Not by innocence. And yet, here I was. Watching her. Wanting her. She had no idea that the most dangerous man in Italy had stopped everything just to witness her. I should have driven away. I should have ignored the strange pull in my chest, the hunger curling in my gut. But then she laughed. And I knew I was fucked. Buckle up for a rollercoaster of chaos, comedy, and a whole lot of WTF just happened moments in HBHB-where love isn't just unexpected, it's absolutely ILLEGAL.

What happens when two completely different worlds collide? She is a girl who grew up believing she was never enough, always questioning why no one could truly love her. And he is a man who makes the world bow before him, yet finds himself drawn to the one person who never tried to impress him. In a story where insecurities meet control,and softness collides with darkness. will he become the reason she finally sees her worth or the reason she breaks even more? Because sometimes, the most dangerous love isn't the one that destroys you it's the one that makes you feel everything you tried to hide. © All rights reserved

When italian mafia falls in love with an indian singer The sound of his phone ringing makes me back away as I look at his phone lying on his bed. But he grips my jaw forcing me to look back at him. "Focus on me." He says as his lips starts peppering kisses along my jaw. "But your phone..." "Leave it." He says his voice having that timber making me more wet. He places a kiss at the junction of my neck and shoulder. I sigh and lean into him enjoying this way too much. His hand holding me up moves down and cups my ass while the other grazes my breast ever so lightly in a feather touch. I bite my lip to stop my moan threating to escape as he continues his ministrations, moving his fingers lightlty around my nipple making them hard as now they can be felt through the clothing. ........................................ He didn't knew her name nor did he saw her face. All he heard was her mesmerizing voice. The voice which had the power to soothe him, to make his thoughts still and his heart skip a beat. That's how beautiful her voice was and after hearing her all he wanted was to have her for him, to have her sing only for him. She lit a dark desire in him which made him yearn for her without even knowing anything about her.

"You think you're going to walk down an aisle for that old man?I'm done being the nice guy, Mishti. I'm ready to force this. I'll film every second of it-every filthy look on your face, every pathetic sound you make. I'll send that video to that old dick and let him watch exactly how his 'innocent' little bride moans while she's being ruined by a monster. I'll tell him explicitly, in detail, how I was the one who broke your hymen." I shivered violently, my knees feeling like they were made of water. The sheer brutality in his voice, mixed with the painful, heat-inducing pressure of his hands on my chest, made my head spin. "Sultan, please..." I whispered, my voice a broken, wet thread. He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against mine, his blood-red eyes burning into my soul. He gave my breasts one last, punishing squeeze before sliding his hands up to cup my face with a terrifying intensity. "Then give me something better, Mishti," he growled, his breath hot and smelling of dark desire. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't just rip the rest of these clothes off, throw you on that bed, and finish this right now? Why should I show you even a second of mercy?" I looked at his lips, then back at his crazed eyes. My body was betraying me; between the fear and the way he was handling me, a slick, treacherous heat was pooling between my thighs. My heart was thundering, not just from terror, but from a dark, shameful need to be claimed by the very man who was threatening to destroy me.

The story is about love and war