Dr Zhivago Novels & Stories

The man exhaled, then did as she commanded. His face was wrinkled, his beard streaked with white. But his eyes—piercing and sharp—reminded her of something she couldn’t quite place. Then he spoke. “You finally made it,” he said, his voice heavy with age and knowledge. “Ayesha Malik.” Her breath caught in her throat. He knew her. Adrian’s gun didn’t waver. “Who the hell are you?” The man smiled faintly. “My name is Dr. Viktor Nazarov. And I’ve been waiting for you.”

Humpty Dumpty, Jane muttered under her breath but no could hear her. “May I introduce you to Victor Roschi? One of the most intelligent man in the country,” said Dr. Schaefer as he introduced the small tubby man to his guests and then he said,” he can bring those both women back to life in the same way in which they were when they were alive.” “Impossible,” burst out Jane.

Like she belonged in this world of shadows and violence. “Gentlemen,” I said, my voice carrying easily across the room. “I'd like you to meet my wife, Liliana Volkov.” The men nodded respectfully, but I could see the questions in their eyes. They knew she'd been born an Orlov. They knew her father was dead. They were wondering where her loyalties truly lay. “Mrs. Volkov,” Viktor Drago, head of the Drago family, stood and tilted his head. “We are sorry to hear about your father's passing.”

His black shirt was stained, he had on two different pair of socks and his pyjamas pants kept dropping below his belt. I clicked my tongue, leaning to touch his shoulders but he slapped my wrist away, "don't fucking touch me!" He raised his voice at me, "Red, you know me," his chest rose and fell at a crazy pace, "you know how paranoid I get but you still chose to ignore my fucking messages!" "Dawson, I had to go to a class and..." "Bullshit!" Now I raised my voice as well, "It was obviously a conversation we needed to have in person and-"

“This drama is sickening. Maybe it’s better to just kill both of you. I won’t be able to use you anymore, Druji. I can’t keep a foolish girl in my army. You’re a disgrace to our race!” “Then I’d be happy to leave your army,” Druji answered confidently. “Ha! Now you’re not scared of me anymore? Do you think you can leave this castle alive? Both of you will die today!” Dubheasa brought out blazing fires in her hand and threw them toward Druji. Druji was taken aback but Vivar used all his remaining strength to grab Druji and pushed him away. Druji was thrown into the hay stacks. All the fire consumed Vivar, making him scream in excruciating pain. “No!” Druji cried and tried to gather the wind t

Antoh Sudnik. All thoughts of leaving vanished. “Miss Kensington, I assume?” he said in his native Russian. “Are you Dr. Sudnik?” she asked in her best Russian as she extended her hand. She knew he was, but she didn’t want him to know that. “You have heard of me, then?” he said with a raised brow. “Dr. Sudnik of Sudnik Research for Humanity,” Chloe giggled. “You are the reason I applied for the job.” “Truly?” he said with what seemed like genuine surprise. “I am flattered, although, I am sure, undeserving.”

Amused, like a snake watching a mouse dance too close. “Who the hell is that?” I whispered. Yuri wiped blood from his lip, ego cracked worse than his dignity. “I think… that’s Misha Petrov.” No. Fucking. Way. I’d heard the stories. The Bratva’s reaper. The man who made people disappear like smoke. The man who was supposed to marry my sister. He didn’t move. Didn’t call his soldiers back. Didn’t lift a hand. He just watched me. Like a puzzle he wasn’t sure he wanted to solve.

"You'd just die if you didn't see the looks of envy on everyone's face when they see me with you. You may have money, but it's me that makes you credible as a man." "Tolstoy wrote about you in War and Peace," Yuri said, his face reddening as he watched Zach's cock plunge in and out of Olga's pussy. "Her name was Princess Yelena Vasilyevna Kuragina. She, too, would fuck anyone with enough money."

“How desperate you sounded when you said ‘please.’ How you couldn’t come until I allowed it.” “Fuck you.” “Not here. Too many witnesses.” He straightens, smile turning professionally charming as a board member approaches. “Dr. Volkov and I were just discussing our upcoming surgical innovations. Isn’t that right?” “Right,” I grit out. The board member—Dmitri Federov, pharmaceutical money—launches into a tedious conversation about minimally invasive techniques. Alexei is eloquent, charming, perfect. And every few minutes he finds a reason to brush past me. To lean in close. To let his hand linger on my shoulder.

Vlad said, limping slightly as he sat down at the bar. I should have stepped harder so he wouldn’t be able to walk at all. Physical pain was nothing compared to what I had gone through because of him in the past. Margarita sat down beside Darvin, and I took a seat on the other side, farther away from him. “By the way, Vlad, are you acquainted with Habirov’s wife?” Before that bloodsucker had time to open his filthy mouth, I answered first. “No, we’re not.” “I see. Then I’ll be happy to introduce you,” the woman said with a smile. “This is Vlad Darvin, my husband’s best friend and business partner.”