Cognac Villain Novels & Stories

Beverley didn’t ask many questions and just followed him curiously. The man placed the glass case on the table. Then he took out the expensive cognac that they had kept. Beverley finally asked, “Why did you take that?” Brent smiled. "I will keep it properly because it is a symbol of our marriage." He opened the lid of the glass box and placed the bottle of Henri IV Dudognon Heritage Cognac inside. It looked marvelous! Beverley was speechless. The luxurious and exquisite glass box was completely suitable to be the home of such a fantastically priced bottle of expensive cognac. Elegant, luxurious, beautiful, and unique.

Didn't see a possibility where her plan night actually fail. I took a sip of the cognac, hoping the original owner hadn't spiked it with the cocaine powder I saw on his table. It tasted smooth, like the smell of oak. And there were notes of vanilla, dried fruit, and spice. It was warm when it touched my tongue and that warmth spread all the way down my throat until it settled right in my maw, that classic finish brandy was known to have. Hennessey wasn't a sweet kind of drink, and that was why I preferred to sip it neat. "You sure you don't want some?" I asked her, holding out the cup.

He wanted his late-night indulgence. I looked at the counter. The Truth Serum was ready. I started with the base. A classic Grand Marnier soufflé requires finesse, egg yolks, sugar, flour, and a splash of citrus. But for Alaric, I was crafting something far more potent. In a small copper saucepan, I prepared the reduction. I didn't just use the orange liqueur. I reached into the back of the pantry for a bottle of Clandestine, a high-proof, over-proofed moonshine I’d acquired during my time in the shadows. It was colorless, odorless, and carried the kick of a freight train.

In placing him at that table, off the dais, but just below, Derien Verstarjen very clearly stated that he was less than satisfied with his heir. As he saw Tarragon and I enter, Aien’s wine glass fell from his hand, splashing red wine across the stone floor, the glass shattering into gleaming shards. It was an extravagant waste, glass being expensive and hard to produce. Derien hmphed his disapproval of his son’s accidental excess through his nose.

Normally I was working, either at one of the clubs or conducting the business to keep the Bratva afloat. Something told me that I would be eating more meals at home in the coming months. “This one,” I told him, showing him the label. A peninsula red from the Southern Rhone Valley of France. Aged fifty years. Easily a fifteen-hundred-dollar bottle. “Excellent choice,” the owner stated, nodding his head. “Shall we get back to your companion?” “My wife,” I corrected him. His eyes widened. “My apologies, Pakhan! Please accept my sincere well wishes on your happy union.”

She frowned when she remembered something, he was drinking the same drinks everyday but not Cognac. Those were the dark moments of her life with him, when she often saw Rufus drunk and few times sober. “He preferred vodka or brandy since I met him few years back. He was particularly fond of those spirits that he drank it every night before. We have collections of them in the castle including whiskey but I never saw Cognac.” “You’re right my love, I indulge Diana those days to patronize my father’s favorite drink but I am not fond of it.” Everleigh turned to Rujan, “I indulge myself with it sometimes,” Rujan replied.

He whispered against her lips making her let out a cracked cry feeling his fingers squeezing her throat. il mio veleno. Her heart cracked into pieces letting her mind accept the gravity of the sin she had committed years ago, once the man who never got tried of calling her il mio amore (My love) had named her as his poison. The inescapable venom that had been seeped in his veins for as long as he remembered being Ace Sullivan. "A-Ace," She whispered raising her right hand to his shoulder but before it could touch him it was slammed against the wall behind her earning a loud shriek of pain from him.

Chateau Margaux, Billionaire Vodka, and Henry IV Dudognon Heritage Cognac Grande Champagne, all of which were in limited edition. ‘‘Do you want me to get drunk?’’ I asked, a faint smile plastered on my lips as I looked at the myriad of alcoholic beverages in front of me. He simply grinned, picked up one bottle, opened it, and poured a drink for me before pouring a glass for himself. ‘‘Your alcohol tolerance should be quite good, am I right?’’ he asked, handing me the glass before he raised his. I raised my glass as well, breaking into a smirk before I took a quick swig, swirling it in my mouth, before I emptied the content in my glass in one gulp.

Нe wаnts mе tо bite, tо shоw thаt I’m rаttled by thе mеntiоn оf Mаrcellus, but I’m nоt giving him thе sаtisfаctiоn. Insteаd, I rеаch intо my jаcket pockеt, рulling оut а cigаr. I clip thе еnd аnd light it, thе smеll оf tоbаcco filling thе аir аs I tаke а slоw, delibеrаte drаg. He wаtchеs mе, аnd I cаn sее thе tensiоn building bеhind his cаlm exterior.

And then I will take her plan, turn it upside down, and use it to choke her with her own trap. If I can't outsmart her... if I can't turn her own moves against her and crush her under the weight of her own cleverness... then I don't deserve this second life. If I fail here, I might as well walk into another burning barn and let the fire melt my body like I did before. "Is there... anything else?" the merchant asks, his voice barely a whisper as he pushes the small vial toward me. "No," I say softly, wrapping my fingers around the cold glass.