Dostoevsky Novels & Stories

He became a raged beast that loves to chew bones of enemies. But who was responsible for creating this monstrosity? Who snatched the innocence and light from those mischievous eyes? Who awakened this reaper from a beautiful soul? Who killed the humanity of this devil? All these questions held one answer. Russian Don- SvetozarVolkov.

“You’re flirting with death. I’m not the only person who could take you down.” The accusation sticks tighter than it would have before El, before the heartbeat in that little office, but I sip my coffee like his words don’t mean a thing to me. The waitresses don’t seem to give a fuck about our little scuffle, at least. “Do you have anything other than threats?” I ask. Henry sighs. “Fyodor’s not a totally uncommon name, but I did some digging, and I was able to connect it to a guy called Raskolnikov, who dropped off the map in Russia about a month before Fyodor started moving over here.”

Nikolai’s POV I slammed my bedroom door so hard that the frame shook in response. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling. I pressed them flat against the wood, trying to steady myself, trying to understand what the hell had just happened. That omega. That insignificant omega—arrgh! I pushed away from the door and started pacing. Everything felt wrong and off and out of place. This was far from what I expected. That’s if I even expected anything.

"Konstantin." As if electrocuted, Dostov released his bite with a slight surge and then looked up at Alice. Nick's blood flowed slowly from his fangs into his jaw. I don't know why Alice called him Konstantin, or how she knew Dostov. The only thing I know is that both of them are from Russia. Dostov stood up from his spot and took a step toward Alice, the expression on his face contrasting with his age. Dostov is one of the oldest Volders alive, and when you get as old as Dostov controlling emotions becomes as easy as breathing. Expression is weakness, if your enemy can read the expression on your face he can beat you easily.

Dalton’s point of view: Why do I care? I had repeated this question a hundred times already in my head, maybe even a thousand times, scarcely knowing what to make of this strangely incredible connection between me and Cassandra. I’ve been trying to understand what this… thing was that spiraled deep within me, as though it was slowly boring its way out of some pitch-black, fathomless pit I had long pretended didn’t still reside inside me. Yet, I suspected I knew exactly what the thing was. It was a flicker of light, even just a spark, but potentially powerful enough to cast a glorious light over my life. Joy. And pride.

so violent it simply cuts off the heads of these wolves He finished with them, so their cries rose, and everyone ran away from him His terrified eyes looked at Ardena to run towards her, making a sound in the ground from the force of his strikes to the ground Do not be afraid, my dear, for you have someone who can easily throw his soul to death so that your heartbeat can continue You have someone who is ready to become 'just a withered corpse' in order for you to bloom

When his father, the powerful Dimitri Konstantinov, a vengeful Russian, entrusts him with the task of going after the bastard daughter of his treacherous wife with a prominent businessman in Manhattan, Alek won't hesitate to tie up that loose end. "Do not fall in love with Aleksander Konstantinov, because he is an imperious disaster, and hot as a volcano, but he is also the bullet that you do not want to see embedded in your chest, once this happens it will be inevitable to see you dying and bleeding from the beast, a beast that just by looking into your eyes, is capable of absorbing your stability to the point of becoming non-existent ". ... "The wolf is now my vice, an illicit one, therefo

How could Donovan be so mean? She heard sure footsteps and rushed to her feet, her heart pounding as the door was opened to reveal Donovan. She observed Donovan's curly hair, now longer and more pronounced, triggering memories of his past cruelty when he bullied her as a child. But this time, he stood before her as an adult, his hair lending him an air of rugged allure rather than innocence. It no longer softened his features; instead, it accentuated his confident demeanor, transforming him into a figure of unsettling allure, like a wealthy male model untouched by the burdens of the world.

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 said, turning my laptop off “we have a lot to do this afternoon” *********************************** “Dante, you know that my respect for your family is endless, but these plans are not ones that would work. If anything, we might lose more than we would ever gain” Mikhail Baryshnikov said, looking at me. This man in specific was one of the oldest investors and partners of the family. He was also one of the men who encouraged Giovanni into dropping his family to build a bigger empire.