5150 Somebody Call The Popo Novels & Stories

I think I feel a little hot. I might have felt self-conscience at the amount of food I scoffed down but then I saw Alec and pretty much every other person here eat three times the amount I did. I can’t remember the last time I had a proper meal like this. Probably before Jess… I sigh heavily as the sound of ringing brings me back to the present. I watch Cain get up and head out to take a call. Perfect ass. “Is this everyone living in town?” “No, many are working. We try to have a dinner like this once every week, it allows everyone an opportunity to attend at least once a month.” Alec answered.

TOKYO, JAPAN CHLOE MAE BERSALES was wanted! Indeed. She'd been wanted in a good and bad way—from her enraged father to being a billion-dollar Baby Mama of an innocent soul that she would meet nine months from now. The page of her book went beyond extraordinary when the billionaire CEO of Greyson Stockholdings disclosed an offer she could not resist. Well, that was two months ago and in baby steps, she learned to play along in the cycle. An unexpected yet interesting progression in her old mundane life.

MacJoe said, “can you help me get them disposed oft at any cost?“ MacJoe asked, “I don't want to be involved but I will give you someone's contact, am sure, he might buy them all” Leo said, “Okay, give me,” MacJoe said, “I will send her contrast phone number via text message,” Leo said, “thank you,” MacJoe said, and he ended up with a phone conversation, and a few minutes later, Leo sent the contact to Macjoe through text messages and called him, “have you seen the phone numbers, call him, he will help you sort out the problems,” Leo said, and he ended up with the phone conversations,

When the coast was clear, I stood up from the bar I was and walked up the payphone. I inserted a few coins and dialed the number I memorised on the screen. I released the breath I was holding when it was answered. "Hello. This is anonymous who has information on Sora York." I whispered as I checked around for anything dangerous. "Hold on a second sir." The operator said and I could hear it being connected to another place. "Hello I'm Elias York and it's a pleasure to hear from you anonymous." Elias said and tears fell down my face.

She’s petite, but she’s wearing super tall heels. Is she a prostitute? She can’t be. Right? I mean, she could be, but working out of a mechanic shop? That doesn’t make sense. Unless this place is a front for a brothel. Is this guy Dario a pimp? No, she calls him Poppa. Do prostitutes call their pimps Poppa? I look away when I realize I’m staring at the ass of a woman who called her boss her daddy. I don’t need him to kick me out before he helps me.

Vasili came to stand beside his wife, his demeanor, serene. A pensive silence settled over the venue. Everyone is becoming more convinced. The trance, however, was abruptly interrupted by phone incessant notifications. Everyone, including the Petrovs, took their phones out of their pockets. Furrowed brows of confusion adorned on all of their faces after discovering a video delivered to their phones. The footage started with a man in a wheelchair, recording himself. A man everyone knows, Greg Randle. "I, Greg Randle, President of Randle Bottlers Inc. make this confession"

He noticed and grimaced at the mention of that Alpha. I pulled the cell phone from my pocket and unlocked the screen, but Poppy still awaited an answer. I sighed and redialed her number, praying to every god that she would answer this call.

My voice was too dry. I stood. The chair shifted slightly beneath me. A small sound, but everything felt loud when someone was trying to look normal. Poppy was still busy inspecting the buttons on her coat. “Mommy, can I have a picture? I need career documentation.” “Later,” I said. She turned quickly. “Later when?” “After Mommy makes one call.” Poppy wrinkled her nose. “A boring call?” “Very.” “If it’s boring, don’t be long.”

“Don’t be so sensitive. I’m just teasing you. Of course, I want to hear it. Unless you’re going to tell me that Kayla was promoted, or worse, got herself a billionaire or something.” “Ew, no!” Poppy replied. “She can kiss my ass. I couldn’t care less. Anyway…so, do you remember that pop rock band we watched at Coachella a couple of years ago with the cute bass player and the hot singer?” she asks, her voice way too excited for me to keep up.

Unknown Caller Arielle didn’t remember pressing the call button. She only remembered staring at the empty space where Daniel’s number used to be saved… and then deciding she didn’t need it. She knew it. Her fingers moved on instinct. Nine digits. Her heart thudded violently in her chest as the phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times— It clicked. Arielle straightened on the bar stool, suddenly breathless. “Hello.” That voice. Deep. Smooth. Controlled.