Ariana Greenblatt Rule 34 Novels & Stories

— Tatiana — The rules of acceptable behavior, as Dmitri explained them to me with the careful patience of a man who'd been told to explain them carefully: Don't attack the guards. Don't attempt to leave the grounds without permission. Don't attempt to access the security system. Don't remove the monitoring bracelet from my wrist. Although thin, silver and barely there, it was calibrated to alert if it left the property. Follow the rules for twenty-four consecutive hours. Reward: ten minutes. One phone call. Monitored.

“I’m interested in the… orgy thing.” They all went pale with shock, but before any of them could speak up— “There are rules though” I added quickly. “I don't want my face shown. I don't want Jake to touch me, and...” While Jake grumbled in the back, the final rule pressed heavy against my chest. This was it. My secret out in the open. But fuck it. “I want it double-streamed” I said. “Double-streamed?” Mia questioned. “We were all planning on using Sabrina's account cause she has more followers, but if you want me to use mine—”

Her eyes were rimmed with heavy, violet shadows of complete exhaustion, but her thumb was moving across her tablet screen with sharp, mechanical precision. "Richard’s New York counsel filed under Section 21 of the 1934 Exchange Act," she continued, her tone cold and level. "They're claiming foreign regulatory overreach on the BaFin transfer. The Depository Trust & Clearing Corporation auto-locked the American depository receipts six minutes ago."

"Or are you going to stand here and gossip all day?" ​Miss Sofia flinches. "I am sorry, Mrs. Angela." She quickly puts the soup on a tray. ​As Miss Sofia tries to pass her, Mrs. Angela hold her arm hard. ​ "Remember your place, Sofia," Mrs. Angela says, her voice low and dangerous. "You must not say anything about Mr. Blake. It is against the rules biding we the servants. Remember that if you want to keep your job." "Y-yes, Mrs. Angela." Miss Sofia

"What's rule number three?" "Rule number three," Julian said, his voice lowering as he closed the physical distance between them until he was standing just inches away, casting a tall, imposing shadow over her. "We do not cross lines of personal history. What happened between you and Nathaniel stays in the past, and what happens within these walls stays between us." Tiffany’s breath hitched. She tilted her head back to meet his gaze, refusing to back down even as the sheer magnetism radiating from him threatened to scramble every rational thought in her head. "And if I decide I'm tired of playing by your corporate rules, Julian?"

"Rule three. You do not talk to the press. About me. About Luna. About anything. If a journalist approaches you, you say no comment. If your mother leaks something, you stop her. My privacy is not negotiable." "Agreed." "Rule four." She paused. She had been rehearsing rule four in front of a mirror in her suite for three hours. "Rule four," she said, "is that I am not going to sleep with you." His eyes flickered. "I did not ask." "You were going to." "I might have thought about it." "You were going to." He did not deny it again. "Aria." "Damien." "Can I say one thing? And then we can go back to rules."

The arrival of his beloved daughter, Inayat, had slipped his mind, forgotten in the midst of his carnal pursuits. However, a discreet servant's report served as a timely reminder, and Agnil reluctantly extricated himself from the clutches of his eager consorts. Some of the women protested his departure, while others still yearned for his attention. Agnil took pains to erase all evidence of his recent indulgences, donning fresh attire and ensuring that every scent of perfume and desire was purged from his person. Only then did he present himself to his daughter, determined to conceal the true nature of his earlier activities.

"You wanna leave?" Ariana tidied up her clothes and raised her chin, "Blake, let's not contact each other anymore. I have had enough of your excess fat!" Blake was angry and was about to raise his hand to hit her. Ariana said, "Tomorrow night, I was going to attend Tabitha's birthday banquet. If you slap me like this, my new benefactor will definitely hold you accountable!" Blake was taken aback. Could it be that this despicable person had gotten involved with the powerful?

Ava’s POV There were only a few rules I lived by in college. Rule number one? Never fall for a jock. It wasn’t just a personal preference. It was survival; I had to avoid them in order to do well. I had seen too many smart girls throw away their GPA for a 6'0 something guy with biceps, a quarterback playboy and a bad attendance record. Not me, no way, I'll never do that, that's how I survived my first year in Westbridge University, and I'm not going to break that rule in my second year.

Arnold added smoothly, smirking, “if you do, just assume it’s poison.” I laughed. “Do they think we’re twelve?” Eli muttered beside me, shuffling closer. “We probably look twelve in their eyes tonight,” I chuckled back. Arnold clapped his hands together. “Rule three—no dancing with strangers or dancing… weirdly. Oh wait—” he grinned at Eli, “scratch that, Eli probably can’t help being weird.” Eli shot him a glare. “And lastly,” Aiden said, lifting a brow, “no sneaking off into corners or rooms with strangers. Or even friends. Got it? Except me, of course,” he added softly, giving me a little smirk that made my stomach flip.