Bloody Painter X Judge Angel Novels & Stories

I swiftly grabbed my silver knives from my boots and dug it into his back , slicing through his skin and pulling it out swiftly and he fell to his knees ‘’You think a little bit of wolves bane and silver will end me , I’m an original wolf you bitch ‘’ Rox cursed out as he struggled to get up with the help of the table in the office I chuckled and punched him in the face saying ‘’ believe me you’d wish it was the wolves bane and silver that killed you ‘’ With that I grabbed his hair and dragged him out to the balcony ‘’Who are you .... what are you ? I can’t even catch your scent. You don’t even have an aura ‘’ Rox asked trying his best to stay on his feet I laughed reaching for the syringe i

Only the glow of the bulb behind him cut through the shadows, revealing his silver coloured hair. The dark angel. Angelo De Angelis. A man knelt before him, trembling and bleeding. Whispering prayers in a language he didn't care to understand. Finally he stood and walked forward, each step deliberate, echoing like judgement. Then he paused, gloved hands tucked behind his back and black coat brushing his boots. Cold blue eyes stared at the man in front of him. No emotion, no hesitation. It was just calm, patient, unblinking and deadly. The man chained to the wall trembled and whimpered. “P-please… I didn't know…I…I didn't —”

Can you imagine your absence at the biggest langerie event in Paris? — You said I wasn't the center of attention. — I'm wrong, girl! You know it is! — Louis finished removing the makeup and punched me in the shoulder. — Angel Backer is on the cover of all magazines, a typical beauty of South America, a daring Brazilian! The one that is never late and does not fail in commitment! The one that joined Gucci and abandoned it just to help Diamond grow, even if she had to live in this end of the world that is the city of Boston!

The word tore from my throat as I slid down the counter, my legs unable to hold me. I’d butcher men without remorse and paint their blood on the walls as if it was some fucking piece of art. But this...this was different. My soul laid bare, utterly consumed by rage and anguish. My men stayed with me and watched their mafia king break apart, waiting for the explosion. My wrath would awaken the demon inside me, summon hell, and unleash my demons to wreak havoc on Earth to avenge my Angel. “How did they get to her?” My voice was hoarse, the words muffled as I spoke into my hands.

My hands around her throat; “Should I stop, baby?” “Nooo, so god don’t stop. I'm cumming, Kian. Don't stop, oh goddddd.” she screamed, “Who do you belong to, Angel?” “You, only you, fuck, I’m cumming,” she moaned. “Cum for me, Princess.” When I looked back, he was still there, our eyes locked, and he walked away. “Fuckkkk,” she screamed, her entire body lifted off the desk as she came screaming. I picked her up with her legs in my hands and started a mad thrust into her. She held onto me.

“Stuck up is something I have never been called before. You are quite interesting.” The door then burst open to reveal Xavier guns out and ready to shoot someone. Jasmine looked over at the Angel who just leaned casually against the wall, watching him with his gun pointed, almost laughing. “I heard you scream you okay?” Xavier asked, putting his gun away. “Yeah bad dream. Just let me get dressed and we can go. You need me to watch you interview the witness right? One of the mobsters?” She began gathering clothes as the Angel towered over Xavier, sniffing him.

The glass beneath her feet cracked, a spiderweb of fractures racing toward the dark pit. "You're not wolfless, Bianca. You're just a late bloomer who needed a little fire to crack the shell." Bianca looked at the knife. Then she looked at the Judge. "You planned this. Dante planned this." "It doesn't matter who built the cage if you're the one who breaks the bars," the Judge sneered. "Now, kill him. Let the transition begin." Bianca stood up. She didn't look at Arthur. She looked at the Judge. "No."

“They selected four paintings this year. Yours was one of them.” Verity’s lips parted. She could not speak at first. Her eyes filled with tears before she could stop them. They slipped down her cheeks, warm and sudden. All the nights she had painted alone, all the times she felt invisible in her old life — it rushed back at her in this quiet room. Quentin turned her gently to face him. His thumb brushed her tears away with such care that more came. He wiped them slowly, his gray-blue eyes soft on hers. “Thank you,” she said, her voice shaking. “I don’t know how you did this… but thank you. No one has ever seen me like this. Not really. Not until you.”

He smirked at me and kissed my eyes. "So, fucking tight, baby." He groaned into my ear. "And, so, fucking wet. Tell me, has any other guy made you feel this way, Angel?" His eyes were dark and hooded with lust. His finger was now slipping in and out of me. The feeling felt so alien to me. I was on edge, and I could see myself wanting more. I could feel tears at the edge of eyes, but they weren't tears of sadness. I could tell that they were tears of newfound ecstasy. "Tell me, baby. Has anyone else ever made you feel this way, hmm?" I looked straight into his eyes and shook my head 'no'. "I want to hear you say it."

I only imagined what was going to happen if I told him the truth. I was grateful that I agreed to cover my face with a veil because I couldn’t have been able to withstand the eyes all gawking at me. My eyes were directly stapled on Antonio Luca, Aka The dark Angel of merciless death. I don’t know why he was named that, but people did.