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LUCKY TRAP

Auteur: DebbyWrites
last update Dernière mise à jour: 2025-08-22 16:53:46

CASSANDRA JACOBS

He did not utter a word or bat an eyelid and the silence made her uncomfortable, and for a long time, he wondered how he truly felt about it.

Was it that he had not been quite excited about the news, or he did not just care about it perhaps? She knew all too well that Vincent was not a man who yearned for things, nor did he crave permanency with anything.

He had always been a man of the here and now, a drifter, a rich nomad of his own calling who had lived for the thrill of the moment, the cunning of a plan and the satisfaction of a con well played. She tried to put herself in his shoes—they had much of the same thought process, and wondered if he was afraid that he was finally going to have a weakness for himself.

To him, a child would be a tie, a bond, a chain, even. One that would anchor him to one place and to one person and make him family. She knew it was not what he wanted. She imagined that he thought of simply packing his things and leaving, as he had alway
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  • Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance   THE END

    ELEANOR SINCLAIR She thought the phone would never be answered.The phone rang once, twice, and on the third ring, the voice, silky and smooth but with a cutting edge of malice, answered with a friendly tone. “I knew you'd call back, Eleanor.”“What do you want from us?” Eleanor's voice came out as a torn whisper, a shadow of her usual voice. Jenny watched curiously, holding the baby as she clenched the phone tighter in her hand, her knuckles white.“Oh, darling, that's the easiest question of all. I love that you are far smarter than your knucklehead husband and your foolish sister.”“What do you want?” Eleanor asked again.“I want what's mine.”“I don't know what you're talking about. What are you saying?”A low laugh, devoid of humor, flowed over the line. “Don't play smart, Eleanor. You should know perfectly well what I'm speaking about. If not, then you should probably be able to guess what it is that I want…”“No. I can't guess.”“I should be a bit more specific, then. Your h

  • Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance   THE PASSED MANTLE

    ELEANOR SINCLAIR Night had fallen when Eleanor at last settled into their bed. The house was so quiet that the only sounds were the soft rhythmic whir of the air conditioner and the quiet sucking sounds that told of feeding from her son. Again, she thought of Damian and how the last few hours had been a blur of taut phone calls and unsent texts to him. Her heart had the old, sick hurt, a sensation that had been her loyal companion since the day she'd met him. She had worried about him and the evil life he led, and now she was even more bothered that she pushed him back. As soon as he left the house that afternoon, she had felt it even without knowing that he had gone, and a shiver of ominous dread settled in her stomach. It was the feeling of everything going terribly awry for him. She called him immediately to ask him to come back home, but his phone went to voicemail. She called his men too—those of them she knew and long dreaded, but they did not know where he was. So had the

  • Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance   ONE LAST TOUCHE

    DAMIAN BLACKWOOD It was even darker when Damian opened his eyes. He woke up to a throbbing headache, while the rough texture of stone scraped against his cheek. Groaning, he pushed himself up, his muscles protesting with a dull ache as he saw that he was in some kind of cellar or dungeon. The walls were made of rough-hewn stone, slimy with moisture, and the only source of light was a single, flickering bulb on the far wall. The light cast dancing shadows that made the cramped space feel even tighter. “So that bitch got me,” he growled to himself. His head swam with the memory of the prick of the needle, the burning sensation, and Cassandra's cruel, mocking laughter. He cursed himself for being a fool, for walking into her trap, alone. He had been arrogant, blinded by his rage and the need to protect his family. He should have listened to his instincts, brought his men, and come prepared for a war, not this pathetic little skirmish. Now, he was at her mercy, and alone. He stu

  • Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance   THE MEETING

    DAMIAN BLACKWOOD Damian didn't sleep a wink the previous night.But he was more rested this time. Eleanor's forceful treatment did the wonders, and now his eyes were not tired anymore. It was just that it was more difficult for him to sleep, so he remained awake, watching.It was already morning when one of his soldiers arrived with a drone that they had shot down, and the drone carried a letter with it:"I think the time has now come when you should understand what it is that I want.And I wish to see you and talk about it. But whatever you may do, take care of your wife and child, for if I am not well pleased, I shall take them in my charge also. If you wish to view me, then visit me at the garage at 5:30PM and with no men. There is no need for them.With love,—Lena.”Damian snarled and tore the paper apart in a rage of raw indignation, his teeth clashing so hard together he felt the stinging for the audacity of the woman. He had never even heard the name, and already she was thr

  • Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance   THE BLACKLIST

    CASSANDRA JACOBS So she had three targets.First was Ailean… whatever his surname was, and whether he could be called her stepson. No—she was never married to Vincent, and they never held each other to any bonds of exclusivity or marriage. They were just friends who liked to have sex and sex parties and sex orgies with each other until Vincent fell in love with her and wrote it in a final letter.She pitied the little boy, indeed.It was one thing to be born to a woman like his mother—foolish, poor, and willing to do anything for money (she was not an exemption, but from what she knew, Helen-Nora was the foolish kind that did anything for money, without cunning or smarts), and it was another thing to be so hated by his father that he would try to kill him, and not just on one try. He was now somewhere in one of Vincent's hiding places, clean shaven and emaciating next to his mother. Sometimes, she wondered how best to let them die—to kill them outright or to let their hunger finally

  • Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance   THE LETTER

    CASSANDRA JACOBS She had believed him.That was her mistake.She had done it so much that she waited, but he never returned. And no soothsayer needed to tell her something was wrong when she had not heard from him hours after their last phone call, not with how panicked his voice had sounded when he had not returned as he said he would that night. It was the first time she ever heard him talk like that. With fear. Then she heard of his death. It was from one of his men who had come to see her, sent by him. Cassandra did not cry. He had not been constant enough, and she never felt pain when she heard of another death. Yet, it had hurt her eyes and she had simply closed her eyes and let the rage consume her. The father of her child and the only man who knew who she was had now gone. Oh, how she had deceived herself to think it meant nothing. Vincent had been a ghost in life—her life— one who came and went, but his death, the one thing she was not prepared for, because she never im

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