Crime Stories Short Novels & Stories

She knew that women like Lucy enjoyed a good introduction; nevertheless, she wanted to find a way to get back to the topic of renting and see if anyone around the table had ideas on good places for her to look into. “It took forever,” the storyteller rolled her eyes. “Finally, a little burb popped up… On a crime page! It was so small that I was actually a little shocked by the lack of details…” Allison smacked her hand twice over the table top, “Ok? So out with it…”

The text came at 11:47 p.m. Just an address. No hello. No explanation. Bria stared at her phone screen until the words blurred, heart already kicking hard against her ribs. She didn’t reply. She didn’t need to. She pulled on the shortest black dress she owned—no bra, no panties, just the thin fabric clinging to every curve—and slipped out into the night. The cab ride felt endless. Every red light made her thighs press tighter together, the ache between them building with every block closer to his building.

They all knew where the wind was blowing. The party continued into the night, then Chuks who was in the penthouse doing God knows what came down to call me, he grabbed me and Kaz by the shoulder and dragged us to the penthouse. The television was already switched on, and as I turned my gaze on the large screen I immediately saw what Chuks wanted to show us. The news was on and the headline read, "Three suspected mobsters found gunned down by unknown men dressed in DSS outfits, after being arrested in their several residents early today."

All I could do was think of it as a painful lesson learned for being a poor judge of character. When I tossed the bill over to Harrison, he finally dropped the final shred of his pretense. "Are you bloody insane, Vivian? You're demanding 300 thousand dollars in compensation?" Harrison roasted as he charged at me and grabbed me by the collar to slap me. The neighbors who'd been waiting on the side rushed over and pressed Harrison to the floor. Someone even used this chance to kick him and vent their anger.

She looks familiar but i can't picture where I've seen her. I watch her leave the ladies bathroom. Fear grips me. What the fuck just happened? ************************************** Have you subscribe to my novel?

Chloe walks in, the pair of ice orbs looking around every corner, in a fraction of second before the blue eyes fall on the front table Aiden spins around and drags Riley, hiding themselves behind every person who are standing they make their way to the exit successfully. After a talk of thirty minutes, Chloe turns to his left and blinks at Kevin who is standing by the table where the laptop is placed. Kevin plays the video, the presentation made by Chloe. Fancy bulbs switch off when the projector light travels straight to the large wall. The video begins. The room fills with gasps and some of them off their seats with enlarged eyes. Chloe furrows his brows and turns around, his body freezes,

“Now what are we to do with her?” “Anything, my dear Clara.” replied Narissa. “Anything at all. We can bring different men to fuck her everyday until her pussy shies away from cocks.” “Good idea.” “I know, right, Loretta?” “Or we could turn your into our very own Onlyfans star. Make money from videos and pictures we sell of you.” “N-no, please.” “What do you say, Renee?” Narissa asked the woman who had been sitting on the bed the whole while. “What makes her so special that our husbands want to die because of her?”

Something male and earthy that my body recognized before my brain had the decency to catch up. The brownstone smelled like old books, espresso, and the lavender Dr. Cavallo kept in ceramic bowls on every surface. I'd been coming here every Thursday at three for two years. Anxiety. Trust issues. A spectacular talent for choosing men who treated me like a rest stop on their way to someone better. Dr. Cavallo was excellent at her job. Never judged. Never flinched. Even when I told her about David and the hotel room and the way he'd smiled at me afterward like nothing had happened.

“Every major paper, every news clip. They all parrot the same police report. It’s like they were reading from a script written by Raymond himself.” Clinton, sitting on the floor with a final stack of independent tabloids, didn’t answer. He was staring at a yellowed, thin-set paper titled The People’s Watch. Unlike the others, the headline wasn’t a summary, it was a question: “The Blind Eye: Why Did the Camera Fail on 4th Street?” and it went on analysing the possible incidence surrounding Edward Lawson’s death and the random ‘claimed’ gang fight nearby, involving the death of only a member, who they suspected as “Possible Truck Driver”

I swallowed what I could, gasping and covered in their release. I collapsed onto the couch, completely wrecked, cum dripping down my body. Victor leaned down, kissing my neck possessively as he wiped a streak of cum from my cheek. “The night is still young,” he whispered darkly. “We’re taking you to the penthouse suite.”