I write love stories,
unfortunately, I make them suffer first.

A dark mafia romance with a ruthless anti-hero, obsession, and explicit spice.

He is death in human form—untouchable, unfeeling, inevitable.

They call me the Reaper for a reason. I don’t threaten. I don’t warn. I erase.

Violence shaped me. Blood taught me patience. Control kept me alive—over my body, my mind, my need. I built distance between the boy I once was and the man I’ve become. I thought it would be enough.

But I was wrong. The past I buried clawed its way back and now the hunt has begun. The ones who thought they were safe will learn otherwise. The ones who kept their hands clean will bleed first. I will tear through every lie, every betrayal—and leave nothing standing.

Except her.

Kira is the problem I didn’t plan for. Women were never worth losing control. But she saw exactly what I am and stepped closer anyway. She didn’t flinch at the damage. She didn’t care about the violence. She didn’t ask for safety or softness. She wanted me—all of me—with an obsession that mirrored my own.

Now I can’t get her out of my head. And I don’t want to. She wants the monster. And I want the girl who doesn’t mind the blood.