Call Me Ishmael Novel Novels & Stories

🌹You're Mine And My Possession🌹 (Book 1) A Dark Romance Novel. Written By Okeke-Eze Ifeoma Isabella PROLOGUE The chill ringing from her phone woke her up, picking it up without checking the caller ID. Anyone calling her through this number has a job for her. It's the number she uses if anyone wants to contact her or rather her assassin name, Mr King. "Yes." "Mr King, you have a job," A male voice said almost immediately.

"I've spent centuries learning to control my darkness. But I'm done controlling it. The only question that matters to me now is preserving us. Everything else is secondary." Before I could respond, my phone buzzed with an incoming call. Unknown number. I almost didn't answer, but something in my intuition suggested I should. "Hello?" I said tentatively. There was a moment of static, and then a voice I recognized from somewhere deep in my soul… but not from this lifetime. "Nova," Isla's voice said, smooth and dangerous and absolutely certain. "I think it's time we spoke directly. Don't you?" The line went dead before I could respond.

His eyes glow just like his father's, "They will be gutted like the traitorous, vile offspring of the Goddesses they are. Like you are--" Ismael is not a man who spoke anything but the blunt truth. If he said he would kill his siblings then he would. And I knew him capable of it. He had already killed my sisters and brothers from The Order. He had even managed to get a hold of Mirabella on her way back to from visiting me-spilling her innards before the court and beating her until she begged him to kill her. He is exactly what Orion wanted him to be. "Please," I whisper in a last attempt to reach the side of him that was me, "Ismael. My sweet child-"

“That woman acted like a damn widow anytime I vanished. Crying. Calling police stations and spamming my phone with twenty missed calls.” The guys laughed loudly but the laugh stuck in my throat afterward because the memories hit harder than expected. Callista standing outside in the rain waiting for me. Callista crying while patching my wounds after gambling fights. Callista begging me to stop stealing before somebody killed me. Fuck. I pushed the thought away aggressively. “My new girl’s different,” I muttered. “Elysia isn’t clingy. She understands success.” At least I thought she did. I loosened my tie while walking deeper into the mansion. “Where’s Elysia?”

ISLA'S POV My world spun around and collapsed on my head as I raced back inside the house, desperate to understand what the hell had just happened. How did everything fall? I grabbed my phone, looking for someone to call, for anybody to listen to me as my mind played the voice of Dante screaming over and over again how this was my fault and how my mind betrayed me in believing it. "Hello?" I said, my voice breaking as more tears streamed down my face. "What happened?" Axel's voice came through from the speaker, and sobs raked my body.

I had never been so sure about anything in my life like I was sure of this. His green eyes locked onto mine, studying me. “And how exactly do you plan on getting it?” “I’ll figure it out,” I said, trying to keep my voice firm, to assure myself that I was right, though deep down, I wasn’t sure how. Malakai let out a low hum, as if he found amusement in my situation. “With what resources? What connections? The world thinks you’re dead, Isabella . Your name, your power, your wealth—none of it exists anymore.”

Till now Ishmael hadn't lost the faith that he would find her. Ishmael glanced back at the photograph and finally saw it, her smile, it was exactly like that of Maya and the dark hair. It finally dawned on him, she must be his daughter, his child would be exactly the same age as her. Ishmael got up and paced about the room. He had finally met his daughter, but how was he to go about it. He immediately called Lisa. "Please Lisa, answer me this, is she my daughter?" Ismael asked the moment Lisa received the call.

She gasped and stumbled back a little, grabbing the edge of the nightstand to balance herself. Her chest was rising and falling fast now. Then, without blinking, she reached for her hidden phone once again to snap and take pictures of every page. Once the last image was saved, she tapped into her call log and selected a number that had no name but just digits, and then she pressed the call button. The phone rang once, then the answer came with a beep. Isabella didn’t wait. She whispered at once into the receiver, her tone low with disbelief. “He’s handing the empire to Damien. Can you believe it? It’s all here.”

I was lounging at home, scrolling through social media, when a livestream title suddenly caught my eye—"The Other Woman Crash Course." Curious, I entered to see a woman talking animatedly, "My sugar daddy gives me 200,000 every month. I just need to keep him satisfied!" Viewers were doubtful and asked, "I don't believe you. Tell us how you two met." She smiled. "That's alright. You don't get to meet someone like that every day. I met him after doing a bone marrow transplant with his girlfriend three years ago. That's how I met this golden bachelor." I frowned. I had a bone marrow transplant three years ago too. Suddenly, the door opened, and she covered her phone in panic. A man's deep