Novel & Cerita 7 Of Hearts

We have an understanding between us, and he's just awesome. Gosh, my brother is awesome. Wesley Adams has won over my heart. He sees me and acknowledges the kind of person I am. He has never judged me and his confidence in me being his, does something to my heart. Wesley has seen me in my worst and best, and still, he remained. He is the first boy that claimed the key to my heart and I believe he is the last.

“I think you, out of everyone in the world, need one person who can show you how to love again.” “And you think your cousin could do that for me?” she asked as she watched him as he thought about her question. The simple question was more than he had thought it would be. He knew it was two-sided at best. “I think my cousin could help you. I don’t know if it would be the key or not. I do think that he would help open your heart again in a way I don’t think anyone else can. You had someone like him before, so you understand.” Garrett said. “He is alone now. He needs help in life and people to love him back. For you, it may help both of you.”

Nizhoni walked up behind Sebastian and knelt down sometime later. Smiling, she hugged him, kissed him on the cheek and said, “Hey, babe, how’s it going?” She was referring to the two-thousand piece puzzle he and Jaxsen were putting together. The puzzle was of a fire breathing dragon flying around a burning castle, a mage standing in the forefront, arms outstretched as if conducting the mayhem from afar. It was a gift from Rose.

The air is thick with the scent of desperation and greed. The room is a den of vice, with round tables scattered about, each one a battleground for high-stakes games of poker and blackjack. The green felt is worn and stained, a testament to the countless nights of excess. Stacks of cash and chips tower above the players, their faces set in determined lines, their eyes fixed on the prize. The chandelier above casts a yellowish glow, highlighting the tension etched on their faces. I spot my contact, a man, only a few years older than me, with umber skin and hazel brown eyes, his tattoos on full display.

#HAREM_OF_LUST 🔞 #CHAPTER 7 🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪 🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪 🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪 🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪

A smile oozing with derision and venom. As I picked up the papers, all covered in Christopher's shoe marks, my mechanical heart was trembling faster than ever. It should not be trembling like this. My pupils were starting to dilate, and the couple that was leaving me behind became nothing but blurry circles. … A long, long time later, I wiped the blood off the corner of my mouth. As I stared at the papers that read 'artificial heart transplant,' my fingers brushed across the scar on my chest. The one that'd been there for seven years.

Strangely enough, my fever broke the very night I put it on. After that, I never had another serious illness. Now he wanted to take it from me and give it to Olivia, as if every memory attached to it meant nothing. When Ryan saw my silence, he added stiffly, as though he were doing me the courtesy of explaining himself. "Olivia has been weak lately. She will only wear it for a few days. Once she feels better, she will give it back." I pressed my fingers to the charm at my throat, then tore it free in one swift motion. Setting it on the coffee table, I slid it toward Olivia.

"You're not as bad as you make yourself out to be; doing bad things, bad deeds, doesn't mean your attitude is so bad." He leaned on the steering wheel with his arms crossed and kept looking at me. I wanted to touch his bicep and see if it was as hard as it looked, and for some reason, I found myself tracing with my fingers the lines that drew a small statue of liberty. "What are you basing that on?" his bicep tensed when I moved to a tattoo closer to the sleeve of his shirt: a deck of cards "You don't know anything about me."

“Don’t pout, sweetheart. You’re the only one I see.” My face flushed, but I didn't loosen my grip. Then he stopped at a game booth with stacked cans and colorful plush toys hanging above. A massive teddy bear, almost as tall as me, hung in the center. I pointed to it, half-teasing. “That one.” Vincent gave the booth attendant a look that could kill. “How many shots for the bear?” The guy laughed. “Three shots. Knock all the cans off the platform.” Vincent rolled his sleeves, eyes gleaming. “Watch me.”