Luffy Photo Novels & Stories

All Seraph Hampton wanted was to dream beyond the orphanage walls. That dream finally becomes reality when she’s picked as the only intern among nine full-time workers. At first, she’s unhappy,until she discovers the company belongs to none other than Luca Zhao. Tech billionaire. National hotcake. And the man she’s secretly crushed on for years. But everything changes when Seraph is accidentally sent to the 60th floor… and walks in on a freshly-showered Luca, wrapped in nothing but a towel. Her impulsive fangirl instincts take over,she hugs him. Luca’s classy, bossy, and sharp-tongued assistant, Miss Harper, walks in and nearly fires her. But Luca redeems Seraph on the spot, promoting her from intern to personal assistant,sending Miss Harper into silent flames. Working beside Luca should’ve been a dream. Instead, it becomes a twisted game of secrets. A hidden photo album reveals the unthinkable: her late mother once married Fernandez—Luca’s father. Which makes him her stepbrother. And that’s only the beginning… The storm hits when a feared and powerful figure known only as The Don of Dawn arrives Seraph’s real father, who abandoned them. Just as Seraph tries to process this, Miss Harper,Luca’s manipulative assistant— calls this same man Dad. Secret half-sisters. Forbidden attraction. A forced engagement bound by legacy and blood. Now Seraph is caught between dangerous love and truths. As she hacks phones, sneaks through private doors, and digs into elite secrets, she’s torn between revenge… and the one man who might be innocent in it all—Luca Zhao. As kisses and intimate moments turn into confessions, and loyalty is tested on every side, one thing is clear: This isn’t just an internship. It’s a battlefield. And Seraph Hampton is the unknown weapon.

On Valentine’s Day, I went skiing for fun. I never expected my younger sister, Fiona White, to get into an argument with our parents and run away. She came to find me. The hotel receptionist made her register as a guest despite sharing my room. I said, “She’s my sister. She ran away from home after an argument and did not bring her driver's license. She’s only staying one night. I’ll send her home tomorrow.” However, he looked at us menacingly. He gave Fiona a lewd wink and acted like he knew what was really going on. “Sure.” He smiled. “It’s Valentine’s Day, so I get it. No need to be shy.” Seeing how tired Fiona was, I took her upstairs without making a fuss. However, I found a post online later that night. [Some men are really so brazen. He brought a prostitute to the hotel and denied it when I called him out. He insisted that she’s his little sister. Does he think I can’t tell?] Some netizens questioned him and told him that maybe he was wrong in his assumption. [I’ve been in this field for more than a decade. I know what I saw! He didn’t dare to register her. That means he was afraid his wife might find out about his actions! I’ll go to their room and record just how loudly that woman moans. I’ll livestream it!] I was stunned. I thought it was just a coincidence. I clicked on the photo the receptionist had sneakily taken and froze. That was me! Did he think Fiona, who was lying on the couch, was a prostitute? But she was really my little sister!

I saved the man who destroyed my family. Dr. Emma Lawson has spent five years hating billionaire Damien Cross. His corporate takeover crushed her father's company, shattered her parents' marriage, and forced her to work three jobs just to survive medical school. Then he crashes onto her operating table. Bleeding out. Dying. One slip of the scalpel. No one would question it. But Emma took an oath. Even monsters deserve to live. When Damien wakes with amnesia, his assistant offers Emma $200,000 to pretend she's his girlfriend. Just three days. One merger vote. Then she walks away. Emma agrees. Not for the money. For revenge. What she doesn't expect: Damien without his memories is nothing like the ruthless CEO she imagined. He's vulnerable. Protective. Looking at her like she's his entire world. What she doesn't know: Damien has been watching her for five years. The photo in his wallet. The surveillance files. The reason he destroyed her father's company. It was never about business. It was about protecting the woman he couldn't stop thinking about from a conspiracy that would have killed her entire family. As fake feelings become dangerously real, Emma discovers the truth: their families weren't destroyed by corporate greed. They were caught in a pharmaceutical conspiracy involving illegal human trials, billions in black market research, and a man who will do anything to perfect a drug that was never meant to cure. Some debts are paid in money. Some are paid in blood. But the debt between Emma and Damien? That one can only be paid in truth. She saved his life. He's been saving hers for five years. Now they have three days to save each other.

The Hockey Playboy Plus Size Series Interconnected standalones — each book can be read on its own, but every romance delivers the same swoony, messy, addictive hockey world. If you love playboy hockey stars, plus-size heroines, forced proximity, forbidden tension, and emotional love stories packed with heat, heart, and drama, welcome to The Hockey Playboy Series. Book 1: The Hockey Playboy’s Plus Size Obsession Mila Santiago has spent five years clawing her way up at Prime Sports Agency, determined to become a full agent while keeping two secrets buried: her estranged father is a beloved hockey broadcasting legend, and she once had a massive crush on the team’s star goalie, Jax Kingston. Now she’s been assigned to babysit him. Mila is supposed to keep him in line. Instead, she finds herself tangled up in the last man she should want. What begins as forced proximity and sharp banter turns into late-night rooftop confessions, frozen pond skating, and a New Year’s kiss that changes everything. But with Mila’s career on the line, Jax’s guilt threatening to pull him under, and an anonymous photo ready to destroy them both, they’ll have to decide if the risk is worth the one thing neither of them saw coming: a once-in-a-lifetime love. Book 2: The Hockey Playboy’s Plus Size Nanny A broke plus-size pastry chef takes a live-in nanny job for the NHL's most notorious playboy to save her family bakery, only to find his five-year-old daughter is the easy part, resisting her grumpy, tattooed boss who keeps looking at her like she's dessert is not. She’s supposed to be off-limits. He’s the last man she should ever fall for.

Kimberly Wilson had been married to Steven Smith for two years. When Steven proposed a divorce, she agreed without hesitation. Holding a huge fortune, she began to wealth freely. The Wilson family had only one child, so who would be family continuity? Simple, she said, 'Help me post a message offering a high reward for pregnancy.' It read, "Due to my husband's car accident rendering him infertile, seeking a healthy male for surrogacy. Generous compensation." As for the requirements, 'Must be handsome, have an excellent physique, graduated from an Ivy League school, and be good in bed. Price is negotiable.' Her highly efficient personal assistant, whom she had hired at great expense, sent over photos of applicants the next day. One ultimately met her criteria and even exceeded her expectations. The side profile in the photo, noble and aloof, looked familiar. She immediately decided, 'Okay, It's him.' 'He's available anytime, but he has one prerequisite.' her assistant informed. Kimberly raised an eyebrow, 'What requirement?' 'He's a bit shy, so the lights must be off.' Only later did she realize what trouble she had gotten into. The man was not only the sole heir to the multi-billion luxury goods group-Garcia group but also the best friend of her ex-husband. Steven didn't wait for Kimberly to reconcile as usual but instead heard the news of her new romance. Despairing, he said, 'I can live without her. Don't try to persuade me.' But later, drunk, he called in the middle of the night. 'Kiki...' His voice was choked up. A cold male voice responded from the other end, 'May I ask why you're calling my wife in the middle of the night?' '......'

I hid behind the study curtains, heart racing with a fragile, trembling joy. In my hands: an ultrasound photo—two heartbeats—and a no-limit black card. Alessandro had given it to me last night, his lips on my neck, calling me his Donna, his queen. Tonight, I was going to tell him about the twins. "The Petrov family needs to see my good faith," his voice drifted in, smooth as velvet. "Vittoria arrives Thursday. I’ll announce the engagement then." My blood froze. "What about Elena?" someone asked. "She’s been with you three years. She manages the books, dug that slug out of your side herself. Is this fair to her?" "Elena?" He leaned back in the leather chair, cigar smoke curling around his jaw. "She’s like a trained hound, Salvatore. After the Rossi family got wiped out, I pulled her from the gutter, gave her a gun and a bed. Have you ever seen a hound leave its master? I could kick her, and she would lick my boot and ask for another." My nails sank into my palms, crumpling the ultrasound. "Aren’t you afraid she’ll leave?" Marco, his Capo, asked. Alessandro paused. Then he said: "She would die for me without question. How could she ever leave?" Those words struck my chest like two 9mm rounds. I didn't wait. I ran through the cemetery, past the tombs of dead Dons, and hurled that card into the Hudson. I vanished into the night with his heirs in my womb and three years of lies in my throat. "I'm sorry, my babies," I whispered to my belly. "Mommy was a fool." But I wouldn't be a fool anymore.

Ten years after my wealthy family took me back, I died in the rental house my billionaire parents had dumped me in. My son was three. Just to mess with me, the kidnapper gave me three chances to call for help. If even one person was willing to come see me, he'd spare my child. The first call was to my father, the man who'd spent fifteen years searching for me. He was busy directing the staff as they set up my adoptive sister's birthday party. When he picked up, he barked, "Estelle Emerson, seriously? Can you go one week without causing a scene? It's your sister's birthday. I'm busy. Don't kill the vibe." The second call was to my mother, the woman who brought me home and changed my name from Dixie to Estelle. But Vera snatched the phone and laughed so hard she could barely get the words out. "Estelle, seriously? If you're gonna make something up, at least make it believable. You look so broke you probably don't even have fifty bucks. What kidnapper would pick you?" The third time, I called Luca's father, my legal husband. He said he was in a meeting and didn't have time to play games with me. He also said that if I behaved myself, he'd agree to take me home for dinner next week. After the final call ended, I looked at the grinning kidnapper in despair and sent the last two messages of my life. A photo of myself covered in blood. And a short message, every word sincere. [I'm really going to die. In my next life, don't bring me home.]

Millicent Andrews never expected her life to collapse right before her twenty-first birthday. One moment she’s a wife, a best friend, a girl with a future… and the next, she’s staring at her husband Brian Vel in bed and tangled in her best friend’s arms, the betrayal slices her open in ways she can’t begin to stitch shut. The divorce is brutal and the humiliation is even worse. With nowhere else to go, Milli returns to her mom’s house with her sick son. She reopens her small, struggling photo studio, just in time to learn the entire building has already been bought by Damon Hale, a forty-seven-year-old billionaire with a reputation colder than the steel hotels he builds. Damon wants the land, but Milli refuses to give up the last piece of her life that hasn’t been stolen from her. Their fight become heated, and combustible, until he makes her an offer she should never accept: marry him for one year to soothe his mother, live under his roof, follow his every rule…and in return, he’ll save the studio, every shop on the block and her sick son gets the best treatment possible, but she does. They hate each other and they’re nothing alike. The contract is supposed to keep their worlds separated, but forced proximity has sharp fangs. Meanwhile, Brian returns, desperate and regretful, determined to pull Millicent back into his life. While she tries to outrun her past, she discovers a painful truth about her own bloodline that changes everything she thought she knew, all while discovering Damon's darkest secret. What happens to their paper tie, when he discovers she knows the truth who he really is?

At the start of graduation season, my boyfriend took more than two hundred photos of Madison Vale. Chase Whitman was president of Westbridge University’s photography club. He knew how to find flattering light and how to coax people out of stiff smiles. Madison stood beneath the maples outside the library in a white dress, her graduation cap tucked under one arm. “Am I taking up too much of your time?” she asked. Chase checked the last few shots and smiled. “You make my job easy.” When it was finally my turn, he barely looked at me. “Stand by the tree.” He clicked the shutter twice and lowered the camera. “Done.” I stared at him. “That’s it?” He turned the screen toward me. In one photo my eyes were half-closed; in the other, a branch shadow slashed diagonally across my face. “Can we try again?” Chase sighed. “Avery, you always tense up. Fifty more takes won’t change that.” Ten minutes later, my phone buzzed. He had posted in the Westbridge Buy: Twenty dollars for someone to spend ten minutes taking a few graduation photos of my girlfriend. Nothing fancy. She just needs something usable. Half an hour later, a stranger replied. I sent him my location, then added: Just so you know, I’m not very photogenic. His answer came almost immediately: That usually says more about the photographer than about the subject. When Rowan Hayes arrived, he looked at Chase’s two photos and said, “He didn’t even try.” An hour later, he sent me the raw files. No filters, no heavy retouching. Just me on the library steps, my hair loose in the wind and my eyes brighter than I remembered them being.

My new husband always acted like a child. Before our son turned two, he would grab the boy’s food bowls every single day and refuse to let go. When our son turned four, he had developed an obsession with planting seeds and watering the little garden in our backyard. When our son turned five, I ran into my Christian ex-boyfriend after six years apart at a business event. He looked the same as before and narrowed his eyes at me with cold disdain. “Didn’t we agree never to see each other again after the breakup? “How are you still this pathetic after six years? You chased me all the way here?” In an instant, everyone turned to watch and whispered among themselves, wondering whether I would shamelessly beg him to get back together with me. After all, back then, I had used every trick I had just to win over William. It was how I had managed to get hold of a man who seemed aloof and almost otherworldly. No one knew that every time William slept with me, he would go to church and repent in secret before a photo of his foster sister. He even kicked me out of the Wells family for her sake. He forced me to donate over a quart of blood to his foster sister when I was hospitalized after a miscarriage. From that moment on, my heart was numb. I returned to my hometown and married my devoted husband. I never expected that six years later, I would see him again. William watched me in silence, then pulled an old diamond ring from his pocket and tossed it at my feet. “Pick it up, and put it on. I’ll marry you.”