Brutal Vows Jt Geissinger Mga Nobela at Kwento

His hands reached for me, and his voice softened like old times. "Hear me out," he pleaded. "The past is done. You've got me now. I can give you a home, money, and a good life. Just drop the hate, okay?" He brushed off my pain like it was nothing, like I deserved it all. "Save it!" I spat. "You mix up me and Lily so much, I can't tell who you're even talking to. Done? What's done? The gut-wrenching pain of losing my parents? Or living with a guy who's always watching me, scared I'll mess with his true love? What did I ever do to you that I deserved this? Or did my parents offend you?"

Everybody was doing something nasty to feel among. Vincenzo was sitting with a black shade beside Salvatore; they were richly dressed with dollars and euros on their table... they were spraying it on the asses of some strippers and bitches... The whole hall went quiet as Gutan crest stepped in, He was holding a black stick, and his fingers were filled with golden rings and a golden wristwatch was on his wrist.... His suit was screaming luxury, and he wore a big black hat; one of his eyes was gone and was covered with a black patch... a piece of weed was on his black lips as his shoe echoed on the floor...

Chapter 11 The Man Whose Name People Lower Their Voices For "The Whitfield numbers are wrong," Alexander said, not looking up from the tablet in his hand. It had been a heated discussion thirty seconds earlier, for the sake of a projection, two colleagues agreeing that it was preferable to argue with the man who built the model in the first place. All of it stopped as soon as Alexander spoke. Marcus Wren, head of acquisitions, flipped back through his printout so fast he almost tore a page. "The projections on page four_"

GIOVANNI "Giovanni... Shit!" Marcelo grunted, his voice strained, as one of the Bratvas grabbed him, yanking him back down with brutal force. The damned bastard tossed Marcelo to the floor as if he weighed nothing, sending a jolt of anger through me. "Fucking stay, brat!" Volkov sneered, his eyes glinting with malice as he met my gaze head-on. He pressed his leg onto Marcelo's shoulder, pinning him to the dirty floor. The sound of Marcelo's pained grunt made my blood boil.

His jacket was tossed to the ground, his white shirt was missing a few buttons, displaying his abs and glorious tattoos. "Brucerò la tua anima e la darò in pasto agli animali, scaverò e calpesterò il tuo cuore e i tuoi organi, maledetto figlio di puttana," Vincenzo spoke, twisting the bat in his hands. At his feet laid a heap of bodies that were Bennet's guards. Jaguar lay on the ground, his head twisted at an odd angle, eyes opened in horror, blood pooling around him.

Jurgen said slowly in broken English, making the woman pale even more. Vasilios laughed and patted his friend's shoulder. “Perhaps I will if I see her trying to harm Cassandra again.” With a solemn look on his face, Jurgen repeated his strange vow in Greek, “With my life, I will protect your mate.” And something glowed in his eyes which both intrigued me, and terrified me.

“You really don’t ask for much.” His fingers tightened briefly. “I ask for survival.” The door opened. Noise rushed in,voices, shutters, the roar of curiosity. Dante stepped out first, straightening his jacket, already composed. He offered his hand. The hesitation was a heartbeat too long. He noticed. “Isabelle,” he murmured without looking at her, “if you falter now, they’ll smell it.” She placed her hand in his and fashbulbs exploded. The moment she stepped beside him, something shifted. His posture changed, subtle, but unmistakable. Dante Marchetti the husband didn’t exist out here. This was Dante Marchetti the kingmaker, the predator.

Drenched in sweat, eyes red from anger, he walked towards me. "You. You bitch, because of you Nick fired me." He said menacingly walking towards me. Pointing a finger at me, he said, “Ever since you came to work here, Nick's given you more importance than me. Rejected my ideas, for your ideas. Treating me like I’m a waiter and you are the general manager of this hotel." He said in a tone barely above a whisper, no doubt to scare me.

However, he seemed different to me. I was going to be destroyed by this man. The person who wanted to shatter me was the one who ought to be close to me. I was aware of it. I could feel it in my bones. The priest spoke calmly and clearly as he began the vows, but I could hardly hear what he was saying. Everything seemed surreal to me. And then the words appeared. "Do you consider Kayla Adam to be your legally wedded wife, Dante Cruz?" the priest asked. At last, Dante turned to face me, "To love and cherish, from this day forward, till death do you part?" His hateful gaze met mine.

Finally, with one last desperate attempt to break free, the brute collapsed, lifeless. Hunter stepped off the brute’s back, his breathing heavy but controlled. He kicked the body aside, sending it sprawling to the ground. Then, he turned his gaze to Giovanni’s group. For a moment, Giovanni froze, his smirk fading as he caught sight of Hunter’s face. His eyes had changed—now glowing with a striking golden hue, tinged with emerald, burning with fury. Despite the punishment he had endured earlier, Hunter stood tall, his presence commanding and unbroken.