Dostoevsky Novels & Stories

This man is sending me on a suicide mission and he knows it. That's utterly impossible. “It's exactly what you're thinking Adrian. Get the job done.” He states, not a single emotion crossing his face. “This is the same thing as asking me to kill myself. Nobody can get to this man.” I've heard rumors about him. Nikolai Rostov. The most ruthless man in the whole of Russia. Каратель ( The punisher ) That’s what they call him and I know that he shouldn’t be dwelt with.

“We got out alive. I can’t fucking believe it.” Dimitri grinned down at me, finally looking like himself as he did. He’d put on such a good show. Un-fucking-believably good. He’d slicked his hair back and worn one of the suits I’d picked out for him, a dark blue that brought out the little flecks of green in his gray eyes. Jerry, unbeknownst to me, had studied Russian literature as an undergrad, something he mentioned after I’d introduced my mate. Dimitri had pulled some weird details about the town Dostoevsky had used for the setting of The Brothers Karamazov out of his ass, going on for a couple of minutes about the history of Russian river barges, to Jerry’

A living, breathing child who carried his blood. If that was true, then why had we been told, in no uncertain terms, that our purpose here was to give Alexander Petrova an heir? Why buy human women and keep them in a harem if one of his own already walked the estate? The questions multiplied with every step and none of the answers made sense. Helena must have noticed the way my jaw tightened because she glanced at me. “You’re unusually quiet,” she said. “I’m thinking,” I answered. “That tends to worry me,” she replied, and I stopped walking. She took another step and then realized I had halted. “You are free to ask the questions you want.” she said calmly.

If I was nervous before, I am now more nervous because I have a rough idea why I was called. I take a good look around the room. I am looking for an opening for my escape. The room is neatly decorated with fancy items. Soon I will smell Alpha Alexei Henrich Rolfe. He was tall, almost 6.5. With a smirk, he towered over me and asked. "So after such a long time, we are done with playing hide and seek."

To sigh. " Finish her." With this being said, he turns around to leave when I scream from behind. Clenching my fists. " W...ho...a..re you!" The man's back stiffens and that's when he runs his fingers through his hair. To let the hood drop. “ Cerberus… they call me Cerberus . The barrier between life and death. And also the loyal servant of her, my Queen. Heratte…” “ The Goddess of Darkness.”

He raised an eyebrow at me and grinned, “What else would you like to know?” My face felt like it was on fire and so did the area between my legs. Goodness gracious, I don’t think I will ever be the same after meeting this man. I had never seen anyone like him. My eyes were laser focused on him and I could feel the confidence extruding off of his being like a force field. Dalton Rosewood was obviously not a man to be trifled with and I don’t know if that terrified me or excited me but I do know my body was aching to be near him and I had to get out of this damn place before I decided to let my temporary insanity take over and do something I might regret.

I answered flatly. He sat down on the chair in front of me, and as he nearly pulled his own hair out of frustration, I could see it visibly in his eyes. His white neck and face were also crimson red. Oscar is handsome. He's tall, has a fair complexion, with a pointed nose and thin lips. He also has those pairs of foxy eyes. His hair is semi-shaven and his body is a bit bulky. Maybe because he's a basketball player. It's just that the reason why I don't like him—that's why we broke up last week—is that he's forcing me to have sex with him. He almost laid his damn hand on me. Fortunately, Peter and my other friends came.

Since he couldn’t get the answers he needed when everyone was sober, he would try his hand while they were drunk. The car came to a stop in front of the Bostonian Boston. Daniel was amazed at the intellect of the people who named a hotel in Boston the Bostonian Boston. Literally that was the name. Once again he took his sweet time getting out of the car, but no one waited for him. Ornais was already on his way to the bar. By the time Daniel had finally found them they were on round two. Barely buzzed Daniel thought. This was going to be a long night.

I pointed to the still open entrance of his tent and the feral beast let out a low growl. "Well, I think you have your answer," he all but laughed at me. I resisted the urge to stomp my foot like an incensed child and stormed out of his tent before I made an even bigger fool of myself in front of him. Oooh Belikov, what have you been hiding? A few introductions this chapter: first is a peek at our newest OC, Daisy! She's a bit of a saucy bitch ;). Secondly, it took me a while (and way more research than I intended) to come up with a period-appropriate nickname for our favorite Rus warrior, since Comrades weren't around just yet. So here we get our first look at Rose's new nickname for him:

A tall, imposing figure with a cruel grin caught her attention. Vladimir Petrov, a notorious Russian oligarch known for his ruthless tactics.