Found 5 burn ignite Stories

WARNING: Mature Content || R18 Please be advised that this story contains mature themes and strong language.
"No matter how hard you tried to hide, I still find a way to bring you back ..." - Azael
Amara is the only youngest sister of Azael. They were ten years apart, so she was over protected by her brother. But Amara run away from home after knowing that her brother Azael love her. They are siblings by blood and everything and her brain cannot accept that it loves her more so she chooses ...

Follow several different stories of betrayal and revenge as the main characters finally seek justice and payback of those who betrayed them!
Burn those who burned me is an anthology book circulated on truth; justice; and REVENGE!
Story #1 The Ballad of Rabena Price.
Story #2 The rebirth of Clara Granger
Story #3 The violin of Graceland Teague
Story #4 The list for Josie Taylor
Story #5 COMING SOON!

Isabella Torrino has never questioned the gilded cage her father built around her—until Marco Santangelo becomes her shadow. As her new bodyguard, he should be just another face in her father's army of killers. Instead, his touch ignites fires she never knew existed, his dark eyes promising salvation from a life of beautiful emptiness. But in the Torrino empire, love is the deadliest luxury, and trust can be fatal. When Isabella discovers that Marco destroyed her mother with the very locket she ...

"Lily," he growled one evening as I helped adjust his pillows. "Why are you still here?" His eyes were hard, and angry when I turned to face him. The accident had taken so much from him, and he hated feeling helpless. He still hadn't accepted it. "Because I care about you, I'm not going to leave you like everyone else." "You're wasting your time!" He snapped. "Look at me! I'm a broken man. I can't walk, I can't even take care of myself. What do you expect to accomplish by staying here?" "I expec...

Yes, I jumped from that rooftop. Wind screaming in my ears as I fell, thinking it might finally earn me one fucking tear from them. Instead, all I got was "she's so dramatic."
Now I'm staring at fifteen-year-old skin in the mirror. Downstairs, their fake voices call my name—identical to that "welcome home" afternoon three years ago.
Yvette rushes to hug me, sugar-sweet venom dripping from her lips: "Remember who the princess is." I give her the same plastic smile right back.
I hear the voice in ...