Mature content[R-18+] NO RAPE~ ~What happens when a psychopath falls in love?~ The infamous wallflower and sole heiress of the Falcone empire, Abigail Falcone, was a loner, shy, and reserved. She did not know how to socialize or even how to love until she met him. Desperate to escape her scheming relatives, Abby sought a favor from her late best friend’s fiancé—a marriage of convenience. No one would have ever paired the shy, stammering wallflower with the sinfully handsome mafia leader. However, it quickly becomes clear that Abby is a woman of hidden strength—and Remo Quinn finds his dead heart beating once again. Wary but tempted, she struggles to get through the arrangement without stripping herself of her morals and losing her heart to her husband—a man so beautiful and broken, he will hurt her as much as he will love her. While seeking revenge and amidst the sultry heat of their forbidden desires and secret fears, will Abigail find the love that will change her life forever? Or will she face the punishment of falling for her deceased best friend's fiancé? What happens when Remo finds out his little shy wallflower wife is a little sly fox? ——————————— ——————————— Excerpt ~ "Beg me to use you, Abby," he growled, his voice husky with desire. Abby's breath caught in her throat as she struggled to comply with his demand. With a mixture of arousal and trepidation, she managed to whisper, "Please ...Remo..." But Remo wasn't satisfied with just her words. He wanted to see her beg, to hear the desperation in her voice. With a wicked grin, he applied a bit more pressure to her thighs, a hint of pain mingling with pleasure. "Words, little sweet doll. Beg me," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for disobedience. The sensation sent a jolt of arousal coursing through Abby's veins, her resolve crumbling under Remo's intoxicating dominance. With a whimper of surrender, she found herself uttering the words he desired, her voice trembling with need. "Please...use me," she pleaded, her heart racing as she surrendered herself to the delicious torment of Remo's touch. Trigger warnings; Self-harm, mental illness, rough sexual acts etc.
Abby sat on the cold, tiled floor of the bathroom, surrounded by a sea of discarded pregnancy test kits. Her hands trembled as she stared at the last one, hoping—praying—that it would show the result she so desperately wanted. But as the seconds ticked by, the single line on the test remained unchanged, mocking her with its starkness. Not pregnant. Again.
Her chest tightened, and she felt a wave of frustration and despair wash over her. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. She had planned everything so perfectly. She had stopped taking the pill months ago, timing everything meticulously. She wanted to give Remo a child, to solidify their bond in the most undeniable way. A baby would ensure he would never leave her; it would keep them connected forever. But no matter how hard she tried, the result was always the same.