Ane Santos Novels & Stories

The next day, Santos was arrested by ICEC officials on charges of being involved in money laundering. From the results of the ICEC case title, it was stated that Santos was an intermediary, just as he told I. He was involved in a bribery scandal from a businessman to Madura Regent Floyd Austin Sr. The entrepreneur's company, Hillside Resources, was on the list I compiled with Amelia, as affiliated with the Rasheed group.

Is his simple reply. I raise my head to glare at me, but the height difference puts me at a great disadvantage. Santino is a very tall man, standing at 6'5. He pushes me away from him with a very disgusted look on his face like he touched the most filthy thing in his life. This is the most expression he has ever shown me. “ The next time you try something like that, I won't be so forgiving.”

it was nice,just that this wasn't the right time for that care. " okay,if you say so. Don't forget to drop by the house when you are free. You can also bring him with you." Mr Santos said teasingly. " Him?" asked a puzzled Martina. " Yes, him. Your future husband." Mr Santos said. " Huh!" Martina said dumbfounded. She didn't understand what her father was talking about and from her last investigation,her twin sister was single and not in any relationship, so who was this he?

“It is a pleasure meeting you, and thank you Mr.…?” “Oh, mi amor, call me Donatello” he said, smiling at me “this is my eldest son, Donato” “A pleasure meeting the both of you” I said, politely. I looked at Nathan who was frowning, kissing his jawline to catch his attention, making him smile. His eyes met mine and he leaned in, kissing my temple. “Ah, protective about your little beauty” Donatello taunted, clearly noticing that he pressed a button. I put my hand on Nathan’s chest, not wanting him to respond to the man as I pushed him back gently.

Actually, Aranjo took the medicine from his dimensional space, but if suddenly the bottle appeared, Aranjo was sure that the mighty general would definitely be frightened. "Come here!" Aanjo orders. "No, no need," said the General, retreating. "Come here!" Aranjo commands ferociously. The man came up to her slowly, then stood in front of her. Aranjo undressed the man once more and gently applied the medicine to the wound.It is a spiritual medicine from the celestial realm, which means it will be very efficacious for humans. Aranjo is sure that the wound will dry out by tomorrow.

My heart felt like it was suffocating under the weight of guilt. "How could I have been enjoying luxury at the expense of the masses?" I sobbed. If I wanted to seek closure, I needed to know the truth about my father's deeds. "Tell me everything!" I cried out. Grace sighed, her voice measured. "Santos was a renowned scientist in Elton, seeking ways to improve lives. People admired him greatly. He focused on potions, weapons, and medicines to ensure a comfortable life for all." She paused, a hint of sadness in her voice. "Given the rules that kept our wolf forms recessive, Santos claimed to have a cure to make werewolves transform more easily. The Council was overjoyed and invited him to join

She shook her head. “You know I'm hot.” He winked. “Don't lie to yourself.” If ‘hot’ was a person, then it's definitely Santos. He is an embodiment of perfection. A god.

He had his right hand resting on the left part of his chest and on it was the beautiful life-like tattoo of a white lotus. Across from him stood some ten people, six men and four women with the same antennae features. If one observed closely they would also notice on the back of their hands the same tattoo as on the white beard young man's. "We all know each other here, countless times we have worked together. I have abandoned the name of my cowardly father and become Pure. Together, Purity and I have served Primal and we will continue to do so even in the face of this seemingly impassable chasm." He paused, looking around the group of ten, his eyes looking directly into theirs. They all sta

Soft fado music played from hidden speakers, blending with the distant hum of the city. Isabella Santos, a 26-year-old Portuguese fashion and wine heiress with sun-kissed olive skin, long dark hair, and a lush, curvaceous figure, stood by the window in a fitted silk dress. The cool glass pressed against her fingertips as the city lights twinkled far below. She had come for a private business meeting. She found something far more consuming. The private elevator chimed softly. Marco “The King” Santos, the world-famous Black Portuguese music producer and entrepreneur, stepped into the penthouse. Towering at 6’10” with a powerfully athletic build, his dark skin gleamed under the soft lighting as

“The scars are still there.” Santos looked at her, his expression resolute. “No more, my child. No one will hurt you again. Caleb Alcantara will pay for what he’s done.”