How Does 'Making Bombs For Hitler' Portray Child Labor Camps?

Running from hell, and towards the devil. Having caught her betrothed and her stepmother in an unforgivable act, Calista runs away into the arms of a stranger-Roman Cappellucci, the cold, calculating, and dangerous mafia boss of Chicago. Roman has worked his way to the top of the criminal underworld with brutality. He proposes a deal: marry him, and he'll protect her. No feelings. No questions. Just safety in exchange for her obedience. But safety has its price It's supposed to be simple, a marriage of convenience for her protection. And don't they say the devil you know is better than the angel you don't know? Things take a twisted, darker turn when Roman's truest nature begins to unfold. He is not the savior she thinks he is; he is the devil that would set the world ablaze for her sake. The abyss she wants to drown in even though he is ruthless and emotionless. Yet with every passing day, Calista begins to chip away at the ice around Romano's heart. And despite every warning in her head, she finds herself drawn to him—not out of fear, but fascination. Her protector Her obsession Her every, darkest fantasy. Because the devil didn’t just save her. He claimed her.

“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.”

(BL, M2M, 18+; contain sexual content) When twenty-one year old Adrian Blackwell, the rich young master of Blackwell family, was dragged by his parents to a so-called "conversion camp", he expects endless sermon about how he's a sinner, punishments that is designed to 'fix' him, and a miserable life away from his wealthy lifestyle. However, little did he know that every gay trainee inside the camp is forced to live with a straight partner that will eventually help him to be 'normal' again. Damian Cross, a straight grumpy athlete, is partnered with Adrian who only accepted the offer because they said he'll get paid to 'torment' (not the exact word but it's what got processed in his mind) a gay man- which he doesn't mind doing at all. Day by day, the more they clash and the more they get into each other's nerve, the more the forbidden line begins to blur away. Will they resist temptation, or give in to the dangerous desire growing inside the camp's walls?

The contractions were ripping me in two. My vision was going dark. My husband, Don Vittorio, the man who ruled Chicago, squeezed my hand. His dark eyes burned with love. "Just a little longer, mia cara. You'll meet our baby soon." Sweat poured down my face. I still found the strength to smile for him. Then a nurse walked in. She held a syringe. I thought it was to stop the pain. But Vittorio’s hand fell away. He took a single step back. The needle sank into my arm. I heard Vittorio’s voice. It was cold steel. "Dose her carefully. She holds on until midnight. Not a minute sooner. Not until after Ornella delivers." And then I knew. He thought I married him for the money. He was stopping my labor. All for a sick Falcone family rule: the first son born is the next heir. Pain tore through me. I reached for him. Tears streamed down my face. I begged him to stop. He bit his lip. His voice was pure ice. "My brother is dead. Ornella carries his only heir. You will do as you are told. You and your child will not steal his birthright." The drug hit my veins. The violent squeeze in my belly, like some invisible hand, just… stopped.

On the seventh day after my daughter goes missing, I kidnap an entire kindergarten. I lock away all 27 students and two teachers in a classroom. I tell the police that if they can't find my daughter, I will kill a kid every 30 minutes. The principal falls to her knees, wailing and begging, "It's not my fault that your daughter is missing. Why should other children pay for it?" I glance at my watch. "29 minutes left. Find her." I know she's in this kindergarten.

The people have elected a new president. The first thing he did was conscript children into a school for future soldiers, and not a single human rights organization found out. Selena was one of those children. She was twelve when soldiers at school picked her up from school, rode a chopper, and disappeared They brought her to a garrison along with hundreds of children like her. There, she met friends she'd do anything to protect.