Novel & Cerita Deku I Think He's Some Pro

I probed and he groaned. "We're going to De Luca mansion it was built deep in the woods, Do you know about the De Lucas or their famous mansion?" He raised an eyebrow like he was expecting more from me,"No I've never heard of them" I was too ashamed to look at him in the eyes I felt outdated this family he talked about seems pretty popular.

He was not the sort of man to sit idly behind a desk and read through hundreds of essays. Kenzie smiled. Royce Devereaux was anything but idle. He was a tall, dark-haired, brown-eyed walking sex-god. With muscles that made her stomach flip whenever she saw them and an ass made for gripping during hot, wild sex, Royce was like catnip mixed with ecstasy. During the in-person job interview, she'd had to relearn how to speak because he'd fried all of her circuits when he'd flashed that sexy I'll-fuck-you-good-baby grin at her.

They’d been similar ages, only Declan had been lucky. He’d somehow turned into a jock from a teen rom-com movie. Not a zit in sight, and I don’t remember his voice ever squeaking once. I was pretty sure it had, and maybe he’d used foundation, or maybe his hormones were controlled to the extent where he never even had to worry about zits because he had them under his domination.

Lisa pov.. I sat there, watching Drake as he continued to drink, as if I wasn't even in front of him. "So, do you accept my deal?" I asked him. He stopped drinking and stared at me. "I really don't understand what you're trying to say. You want me to do the same process as before? At first, it was easy, but now I think it will be difficult. Dean will never let me go near his Luna, and whatever you're planning, it won't work this time."

Then, Dewey walked toward Kye and said mockingly, "Let's see who else can protect you. If you claim to be Kye Deleon, prove it for all the disciples." Immediately, Dewey sped up and struck his palm toward Kye. Dewey was confident. He knew Kye was still severely injured, and he would not be more powerful than any other man. He could even kill him with just a touch. "Shameless!" Edgar cursed and wanted to help, but he was too late.

“Here’s another question from @MiraClassics: Aren’t you one of Devin Mávros’ flings?” Evan choked on his beer. “What the fuck?” “Is this Devin, the one from Mávros enterprises?” Kandra looked behind the camera and another message popped on the screen from ‘@MiraClassics: yes. That hot bachelor.’ “Were you? I mean, that guy is one of the most sought out bachelors in New York if not in the entire world.”

Deke rolls his eyes. I can feel Jace tense beside me, but he doesn’t say anything, it’s Gabe that lectures his friend, “Deke, stop being a dick. Jace takes his job seriously and their lifestyle isn’t anything to joke about. It’s irresponsible guys like you that shouldn’t be trying to play the part as a dominant!” Gabe growls, which really surprises me. “That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” Deke asks his friend. “No, not at all,” Gabe states, “If you’re going to act immature about it then you don’t need to be talking about it at all.”

No clue. He had the biggest, most beautiful hands, too, with prominent veins and rough skin. Long fingers. Deacon was the epitome of masculinity. I forced my eyes away from admiring him, instead focusing on the writing on the side of the cup he held. He seemed to have ordered three shots of espresso straight, no milk. A strong drink to match a strong man. He noticed me looking at his cup. “They got my name wrong. They wrote Beekman. Who the fuck’s name is Beekman?”

I held my breath. “I’m playing a role,” Dante finally said, voice flat. “That’s all. It’s a contract. When it’s over, I’m out.” The words hit like ice water. “She’s not the one,” he continued. “And I’m not the fool you think I am. I don’t love her. I’m just good at playing pretend. And trust me, I can't wait for this to all be over.” My heart cracked. Slowly. Painfully. There was laughter again from his friend, but I wasn’t listening anymore. I stepped away from the door quietly, careful not to make a sound. I walked back to the kitchen, where the scent of breakfast still lingered.

Do not carry anything for me anymore. Adrian I read it twice. The attorney waited in silence until I looked up. “What happened?” I asked. “Mr. DeLuca had pancreatic cancer,” he said. “He continued traveling between Chicago while finalizing the trust separation. There were complications last month. He died two weeks ago.” The words landed softly. No thunder. No collapse. No feeling that the world had stopped. Just the quiet recognition that a chapter I had already closed had now been nailed shut from the other side.