Cheese In The Trap Book Set English Romane & Geschichten

The trap had been set. Sophia’s heart pounded in her chest as the hunt began. ---

But she wasn’t sure if she had just stepped into a trap… Or set one. --- End of Chapter 1

I stammered, an awkward smile creeping onto my face as I held out the small, paper-wrapped bundle of bread and cheese, its corners crinkling slightly in my grip. The guard leaned forward, raising an eyebrow skeptically, the harsh fluorescent light highlighting the lines of concern etched on his forehead. "Leftovers? For the prisoners?" His tone dripped with disbelief, as if he couldn't fathom why anyone would bother. With a subtle roll of my eyes, I leaned a little closer, hoping to soften his stern demeanor. "Oh, come on. Don’t be such a hardnose. Alpha Tristan wouldn’t want them starving, would he?” I batted my eyelashes playfully, trying to inject a touch of charm into the situation, but

If that doesn't work, we have other options. I hovered in the doorway, equal parts fascinated and repulsed as Marco positioned a small metal box with cheese at one end of the dresser while Gene manipulated his strange device at the other end. “They usually bolt for the darkest corner,” Gene explained. “As if on cue, there was a scuffling sound, and suddenly the rat darted out, heading straight for Marco's trap. The metal door snapped shut and trapped the rat in. “Got him.” Marco announced triumphantly, lifting the trap to reveal the now-captured rodent. The creature scurried frantically inside its metal prison.

David’s eyes traveled down, tracing the lines of my body, before he suddenly looked up at the ceiling and cleared his throat loudly. "You should be under the covers," he said. His voice was gruff, but I saw the way his hand gripped the edge of the tray. "I was just changing," I said, finally pulling the shirt over my head. It was way too big for me. The collar hung low, showing my collarbones. "It smells like you." David didn't answer that. He walked over and set the tray on the nightstand. It was a simple bowl of chicken soup and some toasted bread. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched me as I crawled back under the blankets.

He was too naive and simple. "Hmph, I knew long ago that she was a scheming b*tch! Still, I didn't expect her to be so cruel and dig a big hole for me to jump into! The project was a trap from the beginning. She was just waiting for me to take the bait, right?” Damian thought he had grabbed a big piece of pie at the beginning. Unexpectedly, it was a trap.

"That's nice of you guys. Hola Travis." "He doesn't speak Spanish, he went to an English boarding school," I say quickly. I know my lies are pathetic, but I'm glad Chris is buying them. "How do you do mate?" He asks jokingly. "Uh, I do well, mate?" Travis replies unsurely, looking at me. "We need to go freshen up," I announce as I nudge Travis towards the stairs. "I need a beverage first," Travis says and goes to the kitchen. I follow him and take out two bottles of chocolate milk from the fridge.

Yale smiled at Clay, “Are you ready to go?” Clay nodded, “Yes, just let me grab the bag, and let’s sneak some of Mom’s favorite wine.” He smirked. Yale laughed as they headed into the kitchen. They grabbed some of the famous cheesecake that was left over. Then Yale headed down to the cellar and grabbed a bottle of the Queen's finest wine. The Queen didn’t like it when they took her favorite wine, so they had to be careful and quiet. The two men quietly wrapped up the cheesecake in paper and added the wine to the bag. They then quietly exited the castle.

We stood like that for a while, wrapped in quiet, holding onto something neither of us wanted to lose again. About an hour later in the kitchen, we were barefoot, side by side, making grilled cheese like two awkward teenagers after a first kiss. Grace had raided my fridge, laughed at my pretentious selection of cheeses, and insisted that if we were doing this, it had to be real. “None of this imported truffle nonsense,” she said, wiggling a slice of cheddar. “You want to win a woman’s heart? You do it with basic, reliable, artery clogging American cheese.”

Everyone in the fridge had come alive. "You guys can talk?" "Duh. Of course, we can. You just never listened for us before!" The cheese replied in a very British female accent. "Wait a minute, why are you British?" I asked. Oh, snap! My noodles. I put Mr Cola gently down on the table and reached for the microwave. My arm stretch over and opened it up. Woah what! I'm like an elastic man. Cool!