David Dastmalchian Novels & Stories

The room was dark and quiet, the only source of light being the fire place that burned and heated up the otherwise cold room. In the middle of the room was a large wooden table with a chair at both ends, Damian sat on one with Don and Leo standing behind him while Jamal Murray, a bald black man that looked to be in his mind forties with dark unforgiven eyes and a sharp cunning smile sat at the other with a stone faced guard standing behind him. Jamal was one of the few men who weren't born into this world but had managed to carve a place in it for themselves and he wasn't just some local boss running a small operation and raising his shoulders, He was the leader of the fucking Underground.

Yemima said. “Even him?” James’ expression was grim. Manley Dalibor was another prodigy of the Doom Race. He was also a genius born after the war of the Primordial Realm. He was ranked second on the Chaos Gold Ranking, even higher than Hoder.

I remarked. "That is not all. The real question is, who is Dane?" The picture was replaced with a dark silhouette figure with a big red question mark. There was no doubt in my mind about Kale being the one who put the entire video presentation together. "Dane lives a double life, while presenting an image of a humble wealthy man to the world, in the other he is a brutal drug lord who runs the New York Mafia organisation and in the crime world, he is known as Dane Grayson"

"Alison, you know I won't even be considering this marriage contract." "It's just I was thinking if I can get the money and help Seth Nathaniel pay up his investors at MetaX." Daisy said as she took the marriage contract from her best friend. Staring askance at Daisy Hunter, Alison asked, "What happened to MetaX?" Her voice was laced with a mixture of trepidation and anxiety. Daisy Hunter glared at her in bewilderment, finding it hard to reveal the news to her. "Daisy, Mr Antonio Nathaniel died some weeks ago and his investors are rallying to leave the company bankrupt if Seth doesn't pay them up."

ISLA GRACE MILLER DATE OF BIRTH: JUNE 18TH AGED: 18 HAIR: AUBURN EYES: GREEN HEIGHT: FIVE FOOT FIVE INCHES GUARDIAN - JUNE DANIELS, RELATION: MATERNAL GRANDMOTHER, DECEASED- CEDAR FALLS. SCORED HIGH MARKS: TRACKING; HAND/HAND COMBAT; TEAMWORK; FIELD FIRST AID NOTES: RUN RISK LEVEL 2; ONE ATTEMPT YEAR ONE AT TRTC. RECEIVED COUNSELING. MEDICATED WITH ANTIDEPRESSANT FOR YEARS 1-3. CLEARED FOR DISCONTINUATION OF USE AFTER REASSESSMENT.

It's David, a man with whom I once shared a tumultuous history, a history filled with conflict and animosity. Our paths cross in the most unlikely of circumstances, where fate seems to have orchestrated our reunion. David, a skilled operative with an intricate understanding of the criminal underworld, offers his assistance. I must admit, the proposition catches me off guard. After all, I spared his life in a past encounter, but the wounds of our tumultuous past still lingered, warning me to keep my distance.

“Either way, it looks like you’ll be staying with us for a while longer yet.” “That man... The one with dark hair who was sitting at the end of the table. He knows who I am.” Ethan runs a hand over his full lips, then leans back in his chair. “Aye. I think so too.” “Who is he?” His expression darkens. “His name is Blake. He’s the most dangerous male in the Kingdom of Wolves, and he has the power to either help us, or destroy us. There’s a feast tonight. I’ll speak with him then. And I need you to come with me.”

Something with the way he smiled, did not set well with her, there was a starnge jealousy, something she oculd not name, something she did not want to name. Buried herself in work and a romantic book was her exit from the world however now, someone was occupying her mind nowadays. Something that did not set well with her morals. . Later that day Ansuhka was instructed to give Abhinn and Dinesh the resume file, at last she was given two resumes, one of them was janvi’s to call her and issue an appointment letter to her as the new ielts teacher at STRAIGHLINE the starnge ache was back in her chest

Dashtan replied. “Brand?” asked Rakia, half-believing and not. Dashtan nodded. “I think he’s in cahoots with Dalilah, but we need more evidence.” Dashtan sighed loudly. “I’ll finish everything, and then we’ll finish our business.” Dashtan’s words made Rakia frown. “Our business?” she asked. Dashtan smiled a mysterious but seductive smile that only made Rakia more curious. Someone entered and appeared in the doorway. Mr. Reynaldi, Doctor Pedro, and Madame Adeline smiled at the tragic-looking pair of humans.

She raised her hand to knock, but noted that the double doors were already slightly ajar—a clear indication that Dastan was waiting for her arrival. Struggling to regulate her racing pulse, Moza slowly pushed the door open. “Good morning, Young Master. I have brought your coffee," Moza greeted in a soft, melodic cadence. Dastan stood before the vanity mirror, having just completed his morning shower. His dark hair was still damp, and he wore nothing but his tailored trousers. The upper half of his frame was completely bare, exposing a broad, intensely muscular back and solid shoulders. Moza held her breath as she set the ceramic cup down on the desk.