Black As The Ace Of Spades Novels & Stories

“Draw two mo’, girl.” The next two are the ace of cups and the ten of cups. Vermillion’s brows draw together. “An’ two mo’.” The emperor and the ace of wands. These cards Vermillion takes from me and flashes around the room with a suggestive smile. “Umm, looka wha’ kinda man dat big black wolf a hers is. He keepin’ you busy, ain’ he, girl?” The room erupts into laughter and I blush furiously.

His aura became dark, I had to give him a slack his mother death was catastrophic, since his uncle found out about his existence and that he will never have a child of his own as a punishment from Selene for killing his alpha, most importantly his brother, the rumors went crazy of the usurper alpha of the black rose pack. I came back to the reality as Ade knocked the door, she went in and looked at me, she was in a long baby pink dress dread with golden flowers embroidery around the waist with a heart cut and mesh straps that came off her back, she walked in and looked at me “you looking fucking gorgeous Luka” she said, I replied standing up fixing my dress as I stand ”so are you Ade”, anoth

Elliot says, his voice strictly serious. " Ace? Huh . . . You can't be Ace. Do you even know who he is? He is the most ruthless mafia, he kills people like they're nothing. He is a literal God and a weakling like you don't even deserve to talk about him." Hades growls, holding his gun with sweaty hands. " Do you know why they call me Ace?" Elliot smiles at him. " You're not A-" Hades screams when Elliot cuts him off. " I kill my enemies by slitting their throat with an Ace of spades card." Elliot winks at him, pulling out an Ace of spades card from his blazer.

“Yes, because Sebastian may seem like a monster, but he has devoted some time to make sure that you, his family, your children survive this world he’s still having trouble navigating.” After the conversation ends, Trent had some pep to his step. After leaving his room, Sebastian moves through the living room towards his bar. Sitting there is Vera Black, a woman of moderate height and beauty. Her fashion sense is garish, and the fur-coat she wears appeared too hot for any kind of weather. “Sebastian,” the mousy woman greets, and Sebastian pauses, but continues. “Darling.” She moves around the bar to greet him, a square glass half-filled with dark liquor.

And I was left unsure, Do I stay here, awkward and shaken? Or just keep walking like none of this happened? But then... The shirtless man walked toward Rafael. I tried not to look. I tried. But my eyes betrayed me. And when they landed on his abdomen, I froze. Right there, inked into his skin, was a tattoo. Ace of Spades. Lower left abdomen. I knew that symbol. Not many had it. Not many had the exact tattoo on the exact spot. That mark was tied to a history I'd buried. Six feet deep. Something I'd forced myself to forget.

Her cuffs gleamed with subtle magic, her expression bored and razor-sharp. Samuel looked like he’d robbed a grave and then attended a gala. His black-on-black suit was ordinary until you noticed the sliver of a blade tucked at his spine, the flash of metal beneath his lapel, the bloodstained card tucked behind his ear. The Ace of Spades. The one with the fingerprint. And then came Joy and Fiero. The ballroom didn’t go quiet. But the energy changed—a heat that rippled through velvet and crystal, through champagne and silk. A weight fell.

She fidgeted in her seat, her eyes darting anxiously to the entrance each time someone walked in, her heart leaping with false hope again and again. Until finally—A man in a tailored business suit entered. “I’m sorry for the delay,” he said, approaching the officers. “The boss is currently in a meeting. I was sent as his representative.” Belle looked up. Her heart sank. It wasn’t him. “This is the CEO’s black card,” the manager explained eagerly, showing it to the man. “We recognize it anywhere. Only a few people in the country own one. Yet today, it was used by… her.” His tone carried thinly veiled disdain.

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.

Their chatter dipped when I passed. I let them watch me but it was only one set of eyes I cared about. And as I turned the corner into the garden where the party lights glowed like soft stars and music drifted through the air, I saw Ace. He was wearing all black, shirt crisp, sleeves rolled, power in every breath he took. And when his gaze finally landed on me, he froze. Good. I let him watch me, maybe drool at me.

If I was ready for what today meant. I wore a black outfit—black pants, black fitted top, black boots. My hair was tied back. No jewelry except the ring Ace had given me a few days ago, the one that symbolized the promise of our merging empires. Black has always been my favorite color, not because it’s aesthetically pleasing but because it represents everything I am—power, silence, danger, mystery. And honestly? Because it reminds me of death. And death is something I’ve always been intimately familiar with.