One Touch of Serenity

In a world where Alphas rule and Omegas obey, survival means staying unseen. Hagakure Sorahiko has mastered that art-quiet, careful, invisible. Until Miyamura Aronohai notices him. A powerful Alpha. A billion-yen empire. A man who gets what he wants. What starts as a simple secretarial job spirals into a dangerous game of dominance and desire. Each secret Sorahiko uncovers pulls him deeper into Aronohai's orbit-where control feels like seduction, and surrender feels like fate. Because when an Alpha like Aronohai decides you're his... there's only one question left to ask: Will Sorahiko run, or will he burn?

Two mafia heirs. One dangerous obsession. Sasha Mikhailov was sent to watch Nico Vescari-and kill him when the time came. Nico was sent to negotiate peace... or set the world on fire. What begins as a game of power and provocation spirals into something neither man can control. Violence becomes foreplay. Secrets become chains. And between blood and betrayal, they find the one thing more dangerous than war-each other. Dark. Addictive. Devastating. This is the story of two broken men who will burn the world before they let go.

"He's unholy, he's dirty, and you must be kept pure." He said forcing our eyes to meet. The tip of his thumb brushed my lips. He let my hair go, stumbling back as tho he was tipsy. "Take off your clothes" I did as instructed, no questioning. When the miracle boy of Edevane is found in the arms of the Mayor's bastard son, the whole town erupts in a scandal. Simon, the adopted son of Father cadwell, was born to kneel and smile through pain. Behind the cathedral doors, Simon endures bruises because he's told, saints are meant to bleed. Arson Grey, the mayor's bastard son, reckless and irresponsible finds Simon attractive and sees through his facade. He wants the boy under the mask. Simon's past comes back to hunt him, but things are different this time. When Simon falls, when he loses his faith, and scatters the boat of salvation. Would Arson be there to catch him? What happens when saints falls?.

On the giant screen in Times Square, Chloe Davis, radiant in red, slammed the gavel, and "Davis Innovations" exploded in green numbers. I stood in the crowd, a ghost she couldn't see, having spent seven years in her shadow, building her dream, waiting for the promise she' d made: "It will be you and me, Alex." Then, a reporter' s question boomed from the speakers: "Rumors of an engagement?" Chloe' s smile widened, one I knew for magazine covers, never reaching her eyes. "The rumors are true," she said, her voice smooth as glass. "I'm engaged to Ethan Hayes. He's my rock." My world dissolved. I walked away, calling her back later. "Don't be difficult," she said. "I was going to tell you." When I arrived at the sterile penthouse, she walked in with Ethan Hayes. "I made that soup for him," she whispered, pointing to the stove. "His stomach is sensitive. You're a survivor, Alex. You'll be fine without me. But he... he only has me." Then the final blow: "I need you to move out. I'll have a check cut for you. For your... contribution." "What else would it be about?" she asked, genuinely confused when I laughed, crumbling the five-million-dollar check she offered as payment for seven years of my life. She thought everything had a price. As she fielded a call about flower orders, Ethan flashed a flicker of triumph, a cold calculation that revealed the "fragile" boy was a predator who had won. But I finally saw the omega symbol on Ethan's collar – my symbol. The one from the necklace she wore, then gave to him. The rage solidified into something colder. "Keep your money, Chloe," I said, letting the check fall. "But there is something of mine I want back."

The fire alarm shrieked, thick smoke burning my eyes. My heart hammered as I stumbled through the haze, calling for Liam. I finally saw him, but he wasn' t alone. He was carrying Chloe Jenkins, his childhood friend, rushing out the door without a single glance back at me, leaving me in our burning apartment. A neighbor pulled me out, and on the street, I watched Liam fuss over Chloe, who had a sprained ankle. When he finally noticed me, he walked over, a mask of concern on his face. "Ava, are you okay? I was so worried." His best friend, Ben, jogged over, clapping Liam on the shoulder. "Good thing you got Chloe out. You' re strong, Ava. Chloe needed him." They talked about me as if I wasn't there, dismissing my fear, my life. "I'm not okay," I said, my voice dangerously quiet. Liam' s face tensed. "What do you mean? You're safe. I made sure Chloe was safe because she was injured. It was a logical decision." "A logical decision?" I repeated, disbelief washing over me. "I was in there, Liam. In our home. You ran right past me." "Ava, don't be dramatic," Ben cut in. "He did the responsible thing." I discovered this wasn't an isolated incident. My own cherished items, once dismissed as "overpriced" by Liam, found their way into Chloe' s hands-a bittersweet realization that I was always his second choice, a convenient placeholder. All those years, I had convinced myself his emotional distance was just his personality. I was wrong. My heart shattered as I pieced together the truth. I was never his first choice; I was just the girl he settled for after Chloe rejected him. I was a consolation prize. "We are over, Liam," I declared, my voice raw with years of suppressed pain, throwing a glass of water in his face. "It was never about the fire. The fire was just the moment I finally opened my eyes. It's about the years of lies. It's about you letting me believe I was loved when I was just... convenient." I walked away, leaving my old life in a puddle on the floor, determined to build a new one, alone.

My brother, Kevin, just got the bizarre diagnosis. He had a fully functional uterus. I, a bio-ethicist, saw it as a severe medical condition, but Kevin, fueled by delusion, declared himself the "next step in human evolution." My mother, Eleanor, encouraged his madness, seeing it as a shortcut to our family's inheritance. When I tried to intervene, to warn them of the dangers, Kevin sneered, "You' re just jealous. You' re a woman, so you can' t stand that a man can do your one job better than you. You' re obsolete." My mother agreed, validating his cruel words. I pushed back, trying to get the hospital's ethics committee involved, arguing Kevin wasn't psychologically fit. They found out. I walked into our family home that rainy night, and Kevin, encouraged by my mother, attacked me with a heavy glass trophy. The last thing I saw was the trophy swinging down towards my face. Then, darkness. And then... light. I gasped, jolting awake in my own bed, my body whole. My phone buzzed. The date confirmed it: three years before my murder. Three years before Kevin's "miracle." A slow, cold smile spread across my face. They had killed me once for being an inconvenience. This time, I would be the architect of their destruction.