How Does 'Lawn Boy' End?

“He pressed me to the wall with one hand tight around my throat, the other sliding beneath the thin silk clinging to my skin. I should’ve been begging for help. Instead, my knees went weak when he leaned in, his mouth hot against my ear. ‘Does it hurt, darling?’ he whispered. I shook my head, even as his fingers left bruises. ‘Good. I like it when you take it.’ God, I hated him. God, I wanted him to never let go.” A DARK, EROTIC TALE OF OBSESSION, HUMILIATION, AND HUNGER. They called him the Devil, a sadist with a crooked smile and hands built for breaking men. In the underworld’s most perverse auction, Luca Ruelle is nothing but trembling prey, sold for a price no soul should fetch. Silk-wrapped, bare, choking on shame and smoke, he should be praying for rescue. But Kain Astor doesn’t rescue. He claims, corrupts, and devours. He teaches Luca how it feels to be owned. How pain can bloom where fear lives. How pleasure is just another kind of cruelty. Every command is a dare, every punishment a promise. Under Kain’s hands, Luca learns the exquisite agony of surrender, and the terror of how badly he needs it. He should be fighting for his life. Instead, he’s sinking to his knees, eyes glazed, lips parted, whispering the one word that seals his fate— “Please.”

My Boy tells the story of Yuda, a recalcitrant and most wanted student who deliberately changes schools after a bet with his best friend Ridho to conquer Raisa's heart. Their closeness creates the seeds of love, but the secret is finally revealed. Will Raisa forgive Yuda?

Three years after my death, Naomi Dudley—the woman I've driven away—finally returns to Avenport. She is still with Bryson Lloyd. She leans into him, looking sweet and submissive. At the story's end, the main couple's sweet romance continues. The only one who meets a miserable end is me, the villain who dares to steal the female lead. They are here to visit her mother's grave, and I happen to be buried just a short distance away. I float beside Naomi, looking at her and Bryson. They really do look like the perfect couple. Once the candle burns down, Naomi finds an excuse to send Bryson away. She walks over to my headstone and stands there in silence for a long time. So long that I assume she is just trying to find the right words to curse me. Instead, tears well up as she smiles and touches my photograph on the stone. "Kenneth, why haven't you visited my dreams?" I suppose it's because I'm not Bryson. My lingering regrets will never reach her dreams.

In the elite, glass-walled towers of Upper Hill, Adrian Vale is a masterpiece of clinical perfection. A top-tier law student with a future mapped out by his tyrannical father, Adrian survives by the "Rule of Three": precision, discipline, and total emotional detachment. He believes that by controlling every second of his life, he can remain untouchable. Then comes Kai Reyes. A tattooed, underground muralist with silver in his lip and chaos in his veins, Kai is the living antithesis of everything Adrian stands for. When Kai publicly humiliates Adrian by smearing charcoal over his pristine silk tie, the "Ice King" snaps. Driven by a desperate need to re-establish dominance, Adrian offers a high-stakes wager: One week. Kai must move into Adrian’s minimalist apartment and obey his every command. As the doors lock, the psychological warfare begins. Adrian intends to use rigid discipline to crush Kai’s rebellion, but the forced proximity turns the apartment into a pressure cooker of forbidden desire. Kai isn’t just a subject; he is a mirror, reflecting the hollow ghost Adrian has become. When the rules finally shatter, Adrian is forced to confront the "Master" who truly pulls his strings—his father. To save himself, Adrian must trade his golden handcuffs for the raw, uncertain freedom of the streets. In a world of rigid statutes and vibrant paint, he discovers that power isn't about making someone stay—it's being the man they don't want to leave. "Be My Good Boy" is a gripping tale of control, surrender, and the courage to finally be a mess.

When I was twelve, I bought a half‑starved boy from a Brooklyn fight pit. His ribs were broken, blood on his teeth, but he still crawled to my feet. “Choose me,” he said. “Give me a place, and I’ll be useful.” So I took him home. Twelve years later, Matteo Greco had become my family’s most feared enforcer. He bled for me, killed for me, carved my initial over his heart—and called it loyalty. Then one day a beautiful young woman showed up at my door. “You were never the one he loved,” she said with a smirk. “You’re just the nightmare he’s been trying to escape.” She placed a hand on her swollen belly and taunted me, “Matteo’s going to run away with me.” I let out a cold laugh. I had my men drag her downstairs, then sent a message to Matteo: “Get back here. Now.”

My son, Caleb Yates, is publicly known as the most caring son ever. But I've written a letter just to cut off all ties with him on New Year's Eve. The community workers take turns in trying to mediate the situation. "Your son cares a great deal about you. Since young, he has never caused trouble for you, and he often visits you at home. Whenever he comes back, he makes sure to bring gifts, too. "Are you going senile, Bruce? You already have one foot in the grave, so why are you still cutting off ties with Caleb?" I never waver in my decision. Instead, I snatch up a pole and drive Caleb out of my home. Even though I keep berating and hitting Caleb, he refuses to leave. He then jumps off the fourth floor without hesitation. When I walk past him, Caleb does his best to grasp my pant leg despite still lying in a pool of his own blood. I merely take a step backward. "If you want to die, do it somewhere else." My neighbors can't take it anymore. They claim that I'm a bad father before dragging me to the hospital by force. Once Caleb regains consciousness after undergoing surgery, he keeps apologizing to me even though he has tubes connected to him. I refuse to even spare him another glance. The next day, I sue him at the relationship severance court immediately.