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The Blood Trails.
Last Updated:
2025-10-23 23:38:20
RomanWritesA review to encourage your favorite author ☺️🤗
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How To Love A Murderer. Pulling Weeds.
Chapter Thirty-Five: Pulling Weeds"Are we there yet?" Ian asked, a giddy laugh bubbling up as Zhedya kept his hands firmly over his eyes, guiding him through the penthouse. The anticipation was killing him."Almost, my love. Just a few more steps... okay. Now."Zhedya dropped his hands. Parked in the middle of the private garage was a car. But not just any car. It was a low-slung, hyper-modern sports car, painted a deep, shimmering blue that looked like a midnight sky. It had a giant red bow on the hood."A gift for my award-winning journalist," Zhedya said, his voice dripping with pride. "So you never have to rely on cabs or... other people... again. It's programmed to only recognize your fingerprint and mine. It's completely safe."Ian's excited smile faltered for just a second. A normal car would have been amazing. This felt... like a tracking device on four wheels. A beautiful, expensive cage.Zhedya caught the flicker of doubt instantly. "Don't you like it?" he asked, his tone
How To Love A Murderer. The Winner Takes It All.
Chapter Thirty Four: The Winner Takes It All. The morning after the party hits Ian like a truck. His head feels heavy, the taste of last night’s wine still bitter on his tongue.He finds Zhedya by the poolside, eyes glued to his tablet, calm as ever…too calm. Ian squints at him, wondering how he looks so put together when Ian feels like death warmed over.“What are you watching?” Ian groans, rubbing his eyes.Zhedya doesn’t look up. “Nothing much,” he lies smoothly.But Ian catches a glimpse of the screen…muted footage of last night’s balcony scene. He recognizes his own tense body language beside John… and then Callista, handing John her card.Zhedya finally looks up, his blue eyes sharp. “Your friend John seemed… agitated. And Callista was very chatty on her way out.”Ian shifts awkwardly. “Well, John doesn’t know about Callista… or what she really thinks about me.”“I don’t like them talking, Ian.” Zhedya’s voice turns low, cold. “They’re filling your head with poison. I protect
How To Love A Murderer. Gilded Cages and Whispered.
Chapter Thirty-Three: Gilded Cages and Whispered AlliancesIan blinked his eyes open, the soft morning light filtering through the penthouse windows. The first thing he saw was Zhedya, already propped up on an elbow, just… watching him. A sketchbook was open in his lap, a pencil still in his hand.“Creepy,” Ian mumbled, his voice rough with sleep. “How long have you been staring? And what are you drawing?”“Long enough to memorize every one of your eyelashes,” Zhedya said, his voice a soft caress. He turned the sketchbook around. It was a perfect, detailed drawing of Ian sleeping, his face peaceful and young. “Happy birthday, my love.”Ian’s heart did a little flip. Before he could say anything, Zhedya reached for a luxurious envelope on the nightstand. “I got you a small surprise. I submitted your blog for the ‘Best Crime Journalist of the Year’ award.” He pulled out the official-looking letter. “You’ve been nominated.”“Oh my god, Zhedya,” Ian breathed, his eyes wide as he took t
How To Love A Murderer. Roses and Wounds.
Chapter Thirty-Two: Roses and WoundsIan’s heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest. He completely forgot about the elevator, taking the stairs two at a time as he raced towards Zhedya’s office. What if he’d collapsed? What if he was gone?He skidded around a corner and slammed right into a solid chest.“Oof…!”He looked up, and the air left his lungs. Zhedya stood there, flawless as ever, not a hair out of place. And in his hands was a bouquet of the deepest, reddest roses Ian had ever seen.Zhedya’s brow furrowed with genuine-looking concern. “Ian? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”“Zhedya!” Ian gasped, his voice shaky with relief and leftover panic. “What are you doing out of bed? I went to your room and you were just… gone! I thought something terrible happened!”A warm, charming smile spread across Zhedya’s face. “My love! I was just coming to find you.” He offered the roses. “I wanted to apologize for my… moment of weakness. I sent my secretary for t
How To Love A Murderer. The Blood Trails.
Chapter Thirty-One: The Blood Trails Ian slammed his finger against the penthouse button, his heart pounding a furious rhythm in his chest. The image of Zhedya with Louis burned behind his eyes, making his vision swim with jealous rage. The elevator doors closed, and it began its smooth ascent. Then, without warning, it jolted violently. A deafening groan echoed in the small space, and everything went pitch black. “What the hell?!” Ian yelled into the darkness, his anger instantly morphing into claustrophobic panic. He fumbled for his phone, his hands shaking as he turned on the flashlight. The beam cut through the dark, revealing the cold, metal walls of his prison. He fired off text after text to Zhedya. Where are you? The elevator just died. Are you with him? No response. Of course not. “Damn it!” he snarled, slamming his palm against the door. “He’s probably too busy with Louis to even check his phone.” The thought made him feel sick. After what felt like an eterni
How To Love A Murderer. The Love Bomb and The Knife.
Chapter Thirty: The Love Bomb and The Knife Ian flopped onto John’s couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. He’d been back for a few hours, but the air in the apartment felt heavy. John had been watching him like a hawk. “Alright, spill it,” Ian said, breaking the silence. “You’ve been giving me that look since I walked in. What’s up?” John didn’t hesitate. He moved to sit right next to Ian, his face dead serious. “We need to talk. About Zhedya. Ian… I think he’s obsessed with you. No, I know he is.” Ian let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Obsessed? Come on, John. He’s controlling, I told you that. But obsessed? That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think? You’ve met him, like, twice.” “I know what I saw,” John insisted, his voice low. “What’s with you suddenly defending him? You’re the one who said he was suffocating you!” “He came here today,” John blurted out, his frustration boiling over. “And I don’t know what his deal is, but he has this… this god complex. He kn
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