Air-strip Angel Novels & Stories

************** AT THE STRIPPER CLUB Crystal pov I hate my life. I hate my job. Why me?? Why is my life so miserable? I don't know who my father is, and the only person I have in this world is also in a coma. My life just keeps getting worse everyday. Why do I have to live like this??. " Crystal, crystal. " Someone called my name. I quickly wiped my tears. "Yes angel." I answered. Angel is the club manager. "Crystal get ready faster, Damien Montenegro is here". She giggled excitedly.

“You seem shocked.” I blinked. Closed my mouth. “I… no. I’m fine.” She stepped closer. “Don’t act stupid. Even if you are. Stop embarrassing yourself.” I smiled quick. “No problem. You’re all beautiful girls. I’m just wondering if there’s a lesbian-only strip club.” Angel chuckled. Deep. Throaty. “We do everything here. Down to orgies. Threesomes. We have a BDSM room in the basement. Chains. Whips. Private shows. Whatever pays.”

Angel's voice dripped with disdain as she gestured towards the chaos below. " You're sick, Angel! Let Ava go! " Alex's words were laced with anger, his fists clenched in frustration. Angel chuckled darkly, " Oh, but Alex, you know it's not that simple. She's part of my plan, just like you are " Without warning, Angel lunged at Alex, their struggle intensifying on the rooftop. Meanwhile, Black, positioned strategically, assessed the situation, preparing to cover Alex's escape with Ava. In a swift move, Alex managed to disarm Angel, but the standoff was brief. Angel's cunning was matched only by her unpredictability. With a desperate push, Alex managed to disengage and make a daring leap onto

Angel said. That made Bella smile, she knew the guards had a strict rule, no matter how often they saw a face, the stripper always had to give consent before they could come in. That protocol had undeniably saved them so many times. Angel knew that, but would still make a fuss every single time, the name did suit her … Angel. She had beautiful blonde silver dyed hair, her eyes were a perfect kind of big, with beautiful blue orbs.

"What could that be? Amelia asked shivering. "The question is who could that be " Eric replied quiet unmoved by the gun shots. "It could be Derek, Samantos, Anna or anybody ". He took the fork and knife. He held the full chicken on one of the trays with the fork and cut it with the knife. He picked it with the knife into his mouth savoring every taste. "God please forgive me, holy Mart take control. Angel Micheal, son of God. I mean Angel Gabriel, the son of God, oh my fucking God, someone should just take control ". She was breathing heavily as she said the prayers.

Antonio Rufus said. "You need a doctor, boss," Angel said. "There's one onboard," he replied, sounding tired. "Alright, boss," Angel replied. Angel and Blaze walked miles to the airport and upon getting to the terminal building where their jet was parked, an older man dressed in a simple shirt and trousers ran down from the jet to meet them. When Angel saw the stethoscope around his neck he guessed he must be the doctor Antonio Rufus mentioned. He had never met this one before and figured he must be new.

he said, extending a hand. Chelsea forced a smile, his handshake light, almost tentative. "I'm Chelsea." Angel's eyes sparkled. "Oh, you're that Chelsea. Chelsea Waters, right?" Chelsea nodded, his gaze drifting to Angel's boots. "Yeah, I am. Nice boots." The red sequins seemed out of place amidst the somber atmosphere. Angel chuckled, his eyes crinkling. "Thanks! I'm a fan of statement pieces." He struck a pose, his leg bent to showcase the boots.

Tears trickled down my cheeks and I tried sniffing it back in. A knock resounded from the door. Did he come back? “Phoenix. It’s Angel.” I sighed, and wiped my tears before telling her to come in. Angel was one of the artist whose work was displayed. She was a very beautiful woman who survived her husband’s domestic abuse. Just like me, she was rescued by the company.

- You deserve it – I answered and turned my back to leave – by the way, I came to tell you that Angel is coming back home. - Who? - my son asked me, showing on his face that he didn't know who I was talking about. There are days when I feel surrounded by idiots. - Angel. Your childhood friend. Brady's son. – I told him without the slightest patience, while I watched the girl run past me, thank God, dressed, and make a small bow saying “Luna”. My son sits up, scratching his head. - That Angel. I thought he was going to stay in England. Is he not a member of the River Ash Pack?

“Morning, Birdie,” Angel says. I stay with my back to him because I don’t want to ruin my day so early, “I asked Saint about his type, apparently he likes athletic, strong women.” “Is that why you’re always shirtless around him, flaunting your muscles?” Eros asks Angel with a mocking tone and once again, his joke hits too close to home and it makes me turn to him with murder way too clear in my eyes, “It was a little joke, man, chill."