Bible Passage From Pulp Fiction

"A woman like you? No fucking way you're a virgin." "Who said virgins can't be filthy, Rocco?" DIANA SANTORO: Five years locked inside a convent. Not because I was holy. Because the family I was born into is dangerous. My name is Diana Santoro. Mafia blood. And in this world, daughters like me get hidden away until the war is over. Now my brother’s the Don. And he wants me back. The man he sent to collect me? Rocco Moretti. The most feared monster in Italy. The devil of Cosa Nostra. They say he pulls confessions out of men with his bare hands—then sleeps like a baby afterward. Three days on the road. Just us. He’s expecting some scared little nun-in-training, ready to be escorted quietly back to my gilded cage. He has no idea that the only innocent thing about me is this face. **** ROCCO MORETTI: Forty-seven men. That's how many I've killed. Tortured more than double that. Never lost a minute of sleep over any of them. So why does this girl—with her innocent eyes and that smart mouth—make me feel like I'm losing my goddamn mind around every bend of this road? Last night, at some roadside motel, she walked into my room. Ran her fingers over my tattoos, looked up at me with this smirk, and told me she wasn't wearing underwear. What the hell does she want? To destroy me? To see how far she can push before I snap? She's a virgin. Untouched. Off-limits. The one thing a man like me can never have. But when she looks at me like that—wearing that short dress, lips parted just enough—I forget who I am. I forget I'm the monster. And I start wanting, with everything in me, to be the one who ruins her. Even if it costs me my life. Even if it costs me everything.

Los Angeles was supposed to be my home. Instead, it had always felt like a golden cage. The Smith mansion stood tall behind iron gates, glittering with wealth and silence. Servants bowed. Cameras watched every corner. And the man who called himself my uncle smiled sweetly for the world while hiding knives behind his back. I was seventeen when I heard the truth. “He will take care of the girl tonight,” my uncle said over the phone, his voice calm. “Make it look like an accident.” The girl. He meant me. Fear became the only thing that kept my legs moving. I ran from the driver who was meant to take me home, sprinting through unfamiliar streets until the bright city lights disappeared and the world turned darker. Detroit. Wrong place. Wrong time. Engines roared in the distance when I saw him. A man sitting on a black motorcycle like a shadow carved from danger. Tattoos curled up his neck. His eyes were cold enough to freeze the night. Everyone knew men like him were monsters. But monsters were sometimes the only ones who could save you. I jumped onto the back of his motorcycle and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Please,” I whispered. “Help me.” That single moment would destroy his life. And change mine forever. *******

“Even if you aren’t a demon, you are a fucking animal,” I growl, not sure if I’m talking to Christian... or myself. He cranes his neck and studies me coyly out of the corner of his eye, as I’m bent there right over his back, erection flush against his ass cheeks… “Drop your pants already,” he orders. I shouldn’t be in love with another man, let alone a vampire. I’m an enforcer for the Family, a servant of the church that runs this whole Godforsaken country, but you can’t change how you’re wired. You can’t change who you want, even when you’re natural enemies – blood-sucking demon and baptized hunter, both bound to be killed for this transgress. Warning: This book contains explicit material, sex scenes, CT, violence, guns, and death. Read at your own discretion.

My name is Elvira Rossi, daughter of Don Rossi, head of the Itavelle mafia family. Three months ago, my father was killed. Our operations were stripped bare, nothing left. The accounts were draining fast, and the family still had mouths to feed. Then a DNA report surfaced out of nowhere. According to it, I was the LaRosa family's long‑lost true heiress, missing for eighteen years. Money, at last, had found its way to me. For the sake of my people, I was willing to set aside my pride and play the part of a sheltered heiress. The car sent to escort me back to the estate broke down halfway up the mountain? I steadied it with one hand and carried it the rest of the way to the hilltop manor. The fake heiress dissolved into tears, accusing me of pushing her? I answered by striking the century-old tree in the courtyard, splitting it clean through. She went silent immediately. My fiancé sent bodyguards to "teach me self‑defense"? My two friends politely introduced them to the concept of being permanently embedded in a wall. As my so‑called "family" shook in fear, my knuckles cracked softly. After all, before inheriting the mafia, I inherited my father's favorite rule: "If violence can solve it, don't waste words."

He makes you touch the sky when he’s between your legs, claiming your body with a passion that dismantles your defenses. He takes root in your chest, reaches the darkest corners of your mind — and it excites you. Maybe that’s what connected you two. He saw your worst side and loved you. You saw his worst and loved him back. DON, The Pitbull — as he became known for his brutal bites inside São Paulo’s fighting rings — arrived in the city while fleeing a barbaric crime, forced to rebuild his life in the shadows. Today, he is the “King of Tartarus,” ruler of an underground fight club sponsored by powerful businessmen and corrupt politicians. On a cold São Paulo night, his path collides with that of a reckless, drunken girl who runs him over on a deserted street. From that encounter, an uncontrollable obsession is born between them. Louise lives in a world opposite to Don’s. Wealthy, the daughter of influential figures, she once had a perfect life — until she discovered it was nothing but an illusion. It’s when the criminal steps in that she finds her emergency exit. Don is the shot of adrenaline she desperately craves. He is the drug that intoxicates her. The punishment she deserves. And Louise can’t resist. The attraction between them is forbidden, and little by little it awakens the darkest instincts within the criminal. It’s as if he can see a side of Louise that no one else can — a side she fights fiercely to keep hidden. Lou knows Don carries a disturbing past. That he is dangerous and violent. But what should make her afraid and push her away is also what excites her… and fuels a ravenous desire.

Gabriella was living with her abusive father while going to college on a scholarship. She never thought she was different, or special, she thought she was the most normal basic person there was seeing as she knew the types of things other people around her were. Consider her best friend. Rich wealthy and beautiful, a werewolf. When she finds out some surprising things, she finds the same person wanting her and she wanted him just as much, Death himself.