Novel & Cerita Dirty Little Traitor

Unice's PoV I was shocked when they kicked the door, and I quickly pointed the gun at the man wearing a black jacket, he smiled at me, and when I moved the trigger, it did not blow, and I heard his companions laughing. "So this is the unique item we received! Ace is stupid, and abandoning you means he does not love you." I glared at him as he said this. "That's not true; you will regret when he arrives," I said, smiling badly at them.

“Do you know how much these cost?” “No,” I said quickly. “But I know how much my rent is, and it is… less.” His jaw tightened. “Stand up.” I obeyed, clutching my bag as it might save me. “You’re new,” he said. “Yes.” “You’re late.” “Yes.” “You’ve ruined my shoes.” “Yes.” I nodded at every accusation because they were all true and because I had a strong feeling denying anything would end badly. “Name,” he demanded. “Lola.”

"Why would you say something like that? I'd never betray Alessandro after all he has done for me." "Yeah?" "Yeah, of course." I shook my head in disbelief, staring straight at her. "You're a shit liar, Maya, and that's the worst trait to have in the mafia." She stared at me as well, and soon, we found ourselves in a staring contest. She chewed on her lip, as if contemplating something, then she threw her hands in defeat. "Fine!"

He only stood for half of it before he stumbled and fell to the ground. "Huya, it turns out that you are really a fucking traitor." "F*ck, I thought you were wronged and chose to confront us head-on. I didn't expect you to..." "You keep calling Samuel alliance master. You damned traitor, don't you feel ashamed." "That's right. Why? Do you really think that Samuel can back you up? I'm not afraid to tell you that he, Samuel, is still just trash in front of us. He is just trash."

The traitor fell hard to the floor, coughing and gasping. I stared at Damien, surprised. I hadn’t expected him to listen. I wasn’t sure he ever would. But he looked at me now—really looked—and for a moment, I saw something flicker behind his eyes. Not softness, exactly. But consideration. “Talk,” he said coldly, turning his gaze back to the man crumpled at his feet. “Now.” The traitor coughed again, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t—mean to—betray you,” he choked out. “I just… I was scared, alright? You were turning dark. Killing anyone who stepped out of line. I thought you were losing control.”

The sight of his blood-covered face created an eerie atmosphere, like a chilling scene from a horror show, and the cold, merciless look in his eyes confirmed he had no mercy. “The only fitting consequence for traitors is death.” Taking a drag of his cigarette, he wiped the blood from his hand onto his pristine white shirt. “What makes you believe he was a traitor?” he inquired. “I can smell betrayal,” he said, turning to Stefan. “He was the snitch. He killed our men and got away with it.” He took another drag of his cigarette. “Have you checked his bank accounts? Any leads?” “Everything is clean. We caught his wife making a run for it with a bag of cash,” Stefan said.

Lucia met his gaze, and for a fleeting moment, she saw a flicker of remorse in his eyes. With a heavy heart, Lucia revealed Damian as the traitor, recounting the evidence she had discovered during her trials. The pack erupted in a chorus of gasps and protests, unable to comprehend the magnitude of the revelation. Damian stepped forward, his voice laced with desperation. "Lucia, please!" he pleaded. "I made a terrible mistake. I was weak, vulnerable to the allure of power. But I swear, I can change. I will do anything to make amends."

Without hesitation, they obeyed. The first punch landed hard against the traitor’s ribs, making him collapse forward with a gasp. Another followed, then another. Each hit was precise, calculated. I picked up my fork again and resumed eating, watching as the man groaned in pain. "Traitors," I continued, cutting into my steak, "are like diseased dogs. They bite the hand that feeds them, thinking they are clever. But they always end up like this—broken, begging, regretting."

She was still a little puffy and sensitive from last night, but so fucking wet that my fingers made obscene squelching noises as I pumped them deep. “Oh shit—Leo!” she gasped against my lips, her hips bucking wildly, riding my hand. Her juices ran down my wrist. “You’re such a dirty little slut,” I growled, curling my fingers to rub that spongy spot inside her while my thumb attacked her swollen clit. “My own stepsister getting finger-fucked in a closet because she can’t stay away from my cock.”

Diablo stepped forward, the gun still in his hands but he faced Vincent now. “You betrayed my trust, Vincent and if you really think you’re going to get out of this alive too, then you’re kidding yourself” Diablo let out a narcissistic cackle and the walls echoed the sound of his voice. “Stay the fuck out of here, you come with me” His eyes suddenly landed on me.