Novel & Cerita A Man Like No Other

“Are you kidding me? No one has ever considered me a strong person, I am alway the weak and unfit one.” “They are blind to see the real you.”the man said with a smile,it's like he can see through me Who is this mysterious man?

I've always been terrible with directions. No matter where I go, I end up lost. Seraphina didn't buy the whole "born this way" excuse. So she roped in my foster brother Gabriel and my childhood friend Lucas, and they decided to put me through "training." For the border patrol exercise, they drove off with the tactical SUV ahead of time, took my phone, and left me stranded alone at the subway entrance—right in the middle of gang territory. They said it was to sharpen my sense of direction. I opened my bag and found a note from Seraphina: "We've walked this escape route with you twice. I know Carone's blood will find its way to the safe house, Leah!" "We'll be waiting at the mansion." I stared

Pаrt оf mе ріtіеѕ all the mасhо guуѕ оut thеrе thаt dоn’t have thе сарасіtу or opportunity tо open up. Yes, I’m a mаn. I’vе a сосk аnd tattoos. I lіkе tо сuѕѕ аnd lіft wеіghtѕ. I’m ѕtubbоrn аnd wіllful and jealous sometimes, but I’m still human.

He reminds me of Uncle Craig, charismatic and bold—deceptively so. My fourth captor is smaller than the others and less confident. He stands to the side, shoulders hunched like he’s trying to shrink in on himself, but that doesn’t make him appear any smaller. His expression is bitter, a permanent scowl etched onto his face. Unlike the others, he isn’t looking at me, but at the fifth and final man in the room—almost as if searching for approval. Alexander Mancini is the man on whom I focus. XXX

I can't imagine what they'll do to me. “You know, there are a lot of good people here,” a man says, showing his yellow teeth. He smells like dead bodies and decay. His leather clothes are stained with blood. “I need a new pet. And out of all of the people here, you seem perfect. You seem like you would be great for my experiments.”

The Man said to Max then started to walk out of the room. This man was untouchable man of the Los Angeles name JAMES ANDERSON. A 30 year old young man who was the business tycoon and has a secret business which nobody knows. He has many rules in his life but one rule is unforgivable to him was betrayer. He can let go any other mistake but not betrayal. He is the person from which everyone afraid of. He was handsome like a Greek God, He has Dark Brown hair, eyes are hazel in color, Fair complexion of skin, tall in height, Six packs with muscle, aura of a intoxicating person, He was the man that every girl desire for but he is allergic to girl. He thinks that they are troublesome.

I say as I chew on my nails, hoping that my voice doesn't give my nervousness away because I am freaking out about it all. "Yeah... Oh wait, don't tell me. He's the groom." "He's...the best man," I say while looking out of my window just out of curiosity and spotting him...looking at me from afar. Mr. No-Name is what I have come to think of him, was staring at me with a smirk on his face, as if he knew something I didn't. His features were protected by the shadows he was standing under, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking or feeling. He probably feels nothing about how he seems to stand like he owns the place. He probably doesn't own the place the prick. The way he stands and t

He chuckled at this one. "Seriously?? Someone out there was actually adjusted to such a crime. Turns out no one knows if it's really true that it was a crime to snap monks in the tabbiths," Dera said in amazement. The door cracked open and a very handsome man walked through the door and he even looked better in real life than he did in the printed out photo. His bangs were well made and was resting on his forehead and he wore clothed that literally said I'm not a killer, if I wanted to kill anyone, I would have killed the Grammy juries for not giving Nicki Onika Minaj a Motherf*cking grammy for going at it for years and not quitting.

My pulse quickened, and because I was walking too fast, I slowed down, my heels clicking more cautiously against the floor tiles. I took a few seconds to observe him. He had this build, solid, firm, the kind that hinted at hours in the gym but not excessive bulk. His plain white t-shirt stretched faintly across his chest, and his jeans were the kind that clung just right. Probably a graduating college student like me, yet there was something about him that didn't belong to classrooms or corridors. His presence was, out of place. It is than life and dangerous even. He is not the kind of man who will sit in libraries late at night or fretted about exams. No, he looked like he belonged somewher

I asked. He once looked at the TV screen and then at me again. "Umm... I am sorry ma'am. But the next one is the interview of Maximo Lombardi. It's in high demand. So... I hope you understand." "Yeah, uh... okay, thanks," I replied and he went away leaving me kind of speechless. Who is this man? And why is everyone so obsessed with him!? Well, this is what power is maybe, right? He is not present in figure but rolling every mind just by a mere glance of him.