Naruto Knife Novels & Stories

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Mist inquired. Carnation bit her bottom lip and looked down at the papers she was holding. "You can't back out once you sign the contract." She remained silent, so Mist spoke up again, "think about it twice." "It's still possible to quit," Mist suggested. She shook her head repeatedly. "No. . . I've made up my mind." "You're pretty desperate, aren't you?" "My family is in serious debt, and this is the only way I can pay it off." "You're so lovely. You don't belong here. But what options do I have? People like you are exactly what our business requires. Desperate women willing to cling to a knife's edge." Carnation placed the paper on the wooden table. She took a deep breath and quickly signed the contract before returning it to Mist. With a melancholy look, the woman accepted the contract and said, "you can no longer revoke what you have already signed. From today, you are now Mr. Lust's property." Carnation's heart was torn apart by the news. She traded her freedom and pride for the sake of money. When Carnation's father was admitted to the hospital after being diagnosed with lypmhoma. Their family's small business went bankrupt. Carnation had to drop out of college and work to support her family. In serious depth, she had no choice but to work in Casa de Lujuria, an exclusive nightclub owned by Luca Lindenhurst, a Seven Sins Association member.

I was born with a one-track mind—I take everything seriously and do exactly as I'm told. When my adoptive father cursed a rival company, calling them bloodsucking vampires, I immediately went out, bought ten pounds of garlic and a crucifix, and stormed into their CEO's office to perform an exorcism. When my adoptive mother said she was willing to sell a kidney for the sake of the company, I contacted an underground black-market clinic on the spot and asked when they could schedule her surgery. Over time, no one dared joke casually around me anymore. Everyone in the family chose their words with extreme care, terrified I might take them at face value. That is, until the day of the family reunion banquet—when the fake heiress, who refused to leave no matter what, showed up as well. She hooked her arm through my brother's and flashed me a provocative smile. "Arista, Benji dotes on me the most," she said sweetly. "He said if anyone dares to make me unhappy, he'll chop them into pieces and dump them in the river to feed the fish." The banquet hall erupted in laughter. I was the only one whose face went deathly pale. The next second, I kicked my brother, Benji Collins, straight onto the dining table. I grabbed the silver steak knife and pressed it against his throat. "Everyone, stay calm," I announced loudly. "I've already called the police! For publicly advocating premeditated murder, desecration of a corpse, and antisocial personality tendencies… The minimum sentence is the death penalty!"

Tony Gambino never forgave me. His childhood sweetheart died saving my life, and for seven years, his hatred was a constant, silent burn. I fasted. I prayed. I begged for absolution. He met my penance with a cold sneer. "I'll only forgive you when you're dead." The words were a knife to the heart. So why, when we were both poisoned, did he shove the only antidote down my throat? As the poison claimed him, blood trickling from his lips, he choked out his last words, "Scarlett... in our next life, let's never meet." Later, I tried to visit his grave. His sworn brother and Consigliere, Richard Bruno, blocked my path. He pressed a gun to my forehead. "I don't know how you have the nerve to show your face here, Scarlett. He'd be alive if he hadn't saved you. "I should never have let him give up Elma for you. You're a curse. Everyone who gets close to you gets destroyed." Their eyes were unanimous in their blame. And they were right. So I watched his gravesite from a distance, my own guilt a heavier stone than any marker. Not long after, I was killed in a gang crossfire. When I opened my eyes, I was seven years in the past. This time, I made a different choice: I let Tony go—so that everyone might live.

The Mafia circle in New York City was a tangled web, where power shifted in the blink of an eye. The Dusk family, once a powerful force in the underworld, was now reduced to nothing more than a pawn in the game. Their only hope for survival was to marry off their daughters, securing the support they so desperately needed. I, Seraphina Dusk, was sadly one of those daughters. In my past life, I had managed to secure myself a powerful marriage. I married Silas Vane, the head of the most influential mafia family in the country. My sister, Lila, was less fortunate, ending up with Jaxon Westmore—whom she believed would save her. I gave Silas a son and a daughter, and in return, my family was gifted wealth and power. But my sister? She was not so lucky. Jaxon wasn’t the man she thought he was. Instead of honoring the marriage or alliance, he squandered his time on models and strippers, leaving Lila discarded by both him and our father. One seemingly ordinary day, Lila invited me to lunch—never did I expect that she would kill me, drove a knife into my heart. Then she killed herself. And now here I was, reborn, back when our father first told us that Lila and I have to marry for the family. And this time, Lila called her shots on Silas Vane. That’s when I knew. She was reborn as well. Let her have him, then. She had no idea what kind of man he really was.

When I stepped aside and handed the starting spot on the esports team to the guy Zara Moody had always loved, she saw how obedient I had been and moved our wedding up as a reward. But at the ceremony, the man she could never forget suddenly pulled out a knife and cut himself, jealousy burning in his eyes. "Please don't marry him!" Zara, who was usually so calm, instantly lost her composure. She turned to me, panic written all over her face as she begged me to help save him. Every guest in the room was watching, waiting to see how I would react. I didn't argue or cause a scene. Instead, I quietly stepped aside and gave up the groom's place. When Zara saw how reasonable I was, just like always, her eyes reddened at the corners. "I promise this is the last time I'll ever put you through something like this. After the ceremony, we'll go register our marriage." What she forgot was that this was the 96th time she had hurt me. And I had no intention of spending the rest of my life with her. I was only waiting for three more promises. Once I repaid the debt I owed her for saving my grandmother's life all those years ago, I would walk away from her for good. After that, we would never see each other again.

I'm the best plastic surgeon in the industry. Hendrick Twain is a regular customer of mine who has gotten his manhood enlarged nine times via surgery. But after I performed the latest surgery on him, he decides to linger around in my clinic instead of leaving. He keeps showing off his brand-new luxury watch while gloating to me, "Isn't this watch pretty, Dr. Yard? Winona was the one who gifted it to me." Upon noticing my lack of reaction, Hendrick approaches with a smile on his face. Then, he lowers his voice. "What's the use of preserving your chastity, anyway? Winona prefers to be with a plastic hunk like me, who's gone through nine manhood enlargement procedures, than be with you, Mr. Au Naturale." As I stare at Hendrick's face, which has gone under the knife countless times for minor adjustments, I remember the excuses Winona Grahm made to my face every night to avoid going home. Just the memory makes my gut churn in disgust. All of my grievances and disgust turn into ice at that moment. Finally, I take the wedding ring off my ring finger and place it on the desk gently. Then, I grab my phone and dial the number, which I haven't called in the past three years. "Dad." I sound eerily calm on the phone. "Since Winona thinks marriage is nothing but a joke to her, then there's no need for the Grahm family to continue existing in this world."

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.

She gave up, she gave in. She forgot that she was on an airplane that was now accelerating for take-off. She was far more interested in her own personal take-off – one that Hunter was controlling with hard, deep thrusts inside her as his thumb gently stroked her clit. She opened her mouth against his throat, her breath coming out in pants now. As she approached climax, Sully gripped her chin between his fingers, forced her face up to his. Her release was muffled against his mouth and he swallowed her gasps and tiny whimpers; when she relaxed and sighed, he held her close, absorbing the aftershocks into his own body. Cordelia floated next to him, dizzy and breathless. **** Twelve years ago, Hunter Sullivan lost everything that mattered. Since then, his life has been built on distance, discipline, and emotional lockdown. Love was a luxury he failed to protect, and one he doesn’t deserve again. Or so he believes. Until Cordelia Patton walks into his life and dismantles his defenses with a single smile. Cordelia is already carrying too much: a sick child, a demanding job, and a future balanced on a knife’s edge. Her toughest assignment comes when she and Hunter are sent undercover as a married couple to take down a child-kidnapping ring. Pretending to be close to a man who refuses to want her may be the hardest role she’s ever played. Cut off from backup and relying only on each other, lines blur and emotions ignite. But when the case explodes and a criminal escapes, the danger turns personal... and Hunter is forced to face his greatest fear: losing the woman he never meant to love.

“God forbid I let you go, Meera… here, push the knife into my heart, until I take my last breath, you can't leave me. Not now, not ever!" “I'm not ready for a new relationship, Greg. I'm broken and still healing. I –” “I'll wait for as long as it takes. I won't force you to do anything. You can take all the time in world.” “Aren't you afraid you'd wait forever?” “In as much you don't go running into that undeserving man's arms, I'll gladly wait.” “And if I do?” “Then you'll have no choice but to watch me kill him slowly." ... Used as a stand-in wife for three years, Meera’s fairytale marriage was broken when she least expected it. As if that wasn't enough to kill her, her enemies plotted and ruined her completely, sending her to death's door, but unfortunately for them, her late grandfather-in-law left a hefty inheritance in her name. Greg, a rebellious and mysterious CEO of a multi-billion dollar company, who had been secretly brooding over Meera’s marriage for three years couldn't wait to hop on the opportunity that presented itself. At the last minute, he entered Meera’s life and gave her reasons to live again. But Meera wasn't ready to give him what he wanted as her heart was still in shambles. .... As deep secrets about the inheritance are uncovered, hearts become desperate and greed set in, will Meera be steadfast and continue her planned revenge or chicken out and embrace another heart wrenching betrayal?

Everyone said I was too possessive when it came to my girlfriend, Amanda Crane. When Amanda first started taking photos of her childhood friend, Ian Lewis, I ripped apart all the rolls of film. When she helped him fix his computer, I called her 100 times in an hour. And when he called her from the airport, asking her to pick him up because the rain made it impossible to get a cab, I held a knife to my throat. I told her I'd take my own life if she went to him. Fed up, Amanda shipped me off to a psychiatric hospital that same night. When I got out, I vanished. Amanda was certain I was hiding somewhere, spying on her and Ian, but I never showed up—until the celebration party for a business project three years later. Ian put his arm around Amanda and swirled the wine glass he was holding. He shot me a taunting look, remarking, "You used to get so jealous, Steven. I'm sure you no longer mind if Mandy and I drink from the same glass now, right?" He waited for me to go berserk the way I used to three years ago, but I simply moved the bottle of wine closer to them. "I don't mind at all, of course. Have as many glasses as you want. It's great to see that your relationship has been progressing so well." Amanda paused. Her eyes started to redden. She stared fixedly at me and questioned, "Why don't you feel jealous anymore, Steven?"