Bob And Opheebop Novels & Stories

“Operator interface,Mobility or locomotion,Manipulators Effectors,Programming,Sensing and Perception.” Dasha replied swiftly, Dasha tried to take her best friend's advice, she took a deep breath and leaned on him. “What’s your name?!.” She asked. “Bruce..” “Like Bruce Wayne!.” She giggled trying to compare how great he was with gadget and how great Batman was. “You're cute!.” He teased her.

Doug said and exaggerates by placing his hands on his chest. "Don't be too heart broken , we do all kinds if things pornos,organ selling, human trafficking just a few and most of all drugs, but then you are that tiny little bone that stuck on our throats that make it so hard for us to swallow so he wants to make a deal with you. or keep you out of the picture." "Where is the Boss?" Douglas asked.

I rolled my eyes upon hearing her statement "Wow! Just wow! You already asked my dad for consent without Consulting me!" "I know you'll say yes!" She said while smiling from ear to ear. "Wow! Mich! You're unbelievable!" I said while laughing. Anyway, I just want to ask something. Who was the man with you at the coffee shop last day? Why do you need to hide it from me? "I threw a pillow at her when I heard her last question "He's James. Roxanne's friend." Mich's mood changed automatically.

Flip wanted. TBC.

She curled her lips up in disgust as she retracted her phone to dial her client's number as there was no way she was going any further. Before she could dial the number, she heard footsteps from behind her and quickly turned. “You are late.” The man stood tall and had a disgusting smile. Two seconds later, she replied hesitantly. “Tony” Sophia was startled as she never expected to meet him ever again, not after she sent him to jail for harassment. The man standing there was tall, with short hair. He wore a white shirt and black jeans, and under the glow of the corridor light, his face was filled with hatred and lust.

The air in the boardroom was thick with smoke and tension. Sienna could feel it clinging to her skin as if the walls themselves had soaked up decades of violence and whispered threats. The table was long, sleek, polished wood, but the men around it carried an edge sharper than any blade. Their tailored suits couldn’t disguise the tattoos crawling up their necks, the scars etched into their hands, the aura of men who had killed before—and would do it again.