Novel & Cerita As Black As The Ace Of Spades

The safehouse reeked of mothballs and regret. Valerie tossed a sequined dress at me, the fabric slithering to the floor like a dead thing. “Try this. It’s got ‘stab me’ written all over it.” I nudged it with my boot. “More like ‘shoot me first.’” Ace leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, his buzz cut catching the dim light. “Black’s practical. Blood doesn’t show.” “Romantic,” I said flatly.

“Stick the kettle on then Chelsea because I really want to know what the fuck you are playing at?” “Biscuit?” I pushed the plate of cracked cookies over the table towards him. It was a lame thing to do but the longer I could postpone this conversation the better. I needed to think of a plausible excuse as to why Wicked had just been seen leaving my house. And so far I was coming up blank. “Sit your ass down, Chelsea.” Young Blood had flung his legs out just like Wicked had done. They were, all the same, the men of the Black Aces. They all thought they could boss me around.

She sighs, twirling the tips of her hair around her finger – ignoring me. “Ms. Black isn’t from the Salacious Players Club.” Ace points out, looking past her as if he is trying to look for someone to save him. She snorts, dropping her hand. “She’s not? Don’t tell me she’s from the Charity Auction?” Displeasure wraps around her words viciously, striking me across the face in mockery. Ace steps back, widening his stance as his eyes narrow into thin slits when they meet her cruel gaze. “Yes, Ms. Black is from the Charity Auction, Lisa, and there is nothing wrong with that.”

Reaper I didn't need to look at the card. I knew the weight of these paper, the slight bend in the corner of the Ace that only a dealer’s hands would recognize. I knew exactly where the death card was hiding. But I watched her hand anyway. Mila’s fingers were trembling. She hesitated for a second before she flipped it. The card hit the wood. Ace of Spades. The single deadliest card in the deck. The Widow-Maker. The silence that slammed into the Pit was absolute.

He grappled with this paradox—yearning for the simple, yet forever bound to the complex. In his Wolf Form, Ace sat on the green fields beyond the forest, contemplating the expanse before him. His fur, a coat of thick black, seemed to hug his formidable body, while his eyes, once pure sapphires, were now tinged with a darker hue. These eyes, like glowing Alexandrite stones, held a violent illusion within them, the reflection of his inner turmoil.

Wild Bill began delegating the more dangerous liaisons to the henchman's special skillset. He didn't mind. Over the years, it helped dull the pain of Aimee's rejection. Until he walked out the door today and her scent hit him like a freight train, now he couldn't bear to have her out of his sight. Why was she back? His eyes traveled the length of her, memorizing every curve, dip, and feature he could see. Did she still bear the Aces and eights mark? Their patch was a set of four cards, two black eights (clubs and spades), and two black spades.

He heard his father resorted with frustration in his voice. “Dear, you shouldn’t be here. Go back to your room.” His mother hurriedly whispered when she noticed him listening to their conversation. “Wait, did you just say men in black?” Hyde resorted when he came back to his senses. His companion didn’t speak but answered him with a mere nod. “Oh, and one more thing, she also said that one of them has some kind of black bird tattoo on the neck.” Hyde was stunned when he heard about the tattoo. He’s certain, that the deceased man was one of them—or just a scapegoat.

And this time, Kaelen sat in the driver's seat and watched it all without stopping her. The car started, disappearing into the night with my painful memories. I closed the door and leaned against the wall. Thirteen years. Our bond was over, just like that. And he had been a liar from the start. Two days later, a gold-embossed invitation arrived at my office. "You are cordially invited to the Luna Ceremony and Wedding of Mr. Kaelen Blackwood and Miss Seraphina Collins." I stared at the photo of them in a loving embrace on the invitation, and the last shred of warmth in my heart died.

I didn’t know how long I’d stood in the same spot staring at him like a dummy while watching him as he smokes his cigarettes, but same way I was sure he had taken in all of my features to his satisfaction, I had also done same until I’d shamelessly ran my eyes all over his body: His blue eyes could get you lost in it—his great physique and broad tattooed chest exposed under the three unbuttoned buttons of his black shirt, and then, the sleeves of his shirt that were rolled up to his elbow bringing to sight the tattoos from his elbow down to his wrist had done nothing but to add to his undeniable beauty. He looked too good to bear the name, ‘Vincenzo Ace.’ His expression was blank and the onl

I sat downstairs, scrolling through my phone , waiting for Ace to come down . He had been up there awhile now . I sat with my legs crossed over one another and big my nails ; I was nervous that we would be late to meet the new recruits. Ace finally strutted in , wearing his all black suit . I know he's wearing it to a funeral but shit , he looks really sexy in it .