Edsel Sandoval Novels & Stories

Even though Eden Joy was wealthy, it did not belong solely to Zeke and his son! They were only two of the top-level executives. After coming up with an idea, Zeke looked toward the old man wearing a robe next to him. He looked like a sorcerer with long hair. “Master Sandford, I’m afraid that we will need you to take the trouble on this.” Master Sandford said with a calm expression, “Sure, just prepare the money.” Master Sandford was a pre-celestial fighter who was exceptionally well-trained in fighting. He was commissioned by Eden Joy to kill quite a number of people, and he had never failed his missions.

Even though Eden Joy was wealthy, it did not belong solely to Zeke and his son! They were only two of the top-level executives. After coming up with an idea, Zeke looked toward the old man wearing a robe next to him. He looked like a sorcerer with long hair. “Master Sandford, I’m afraid that we will need you to take the trouble on this.” Master Sandford said with a calm expression, “Sure, just prepare the money.” Master Sandford was a pre-celestial fighter who was exceptionally well-trained in fighting. He was commissioned by Eden Joy to kill quite a number of people, and he had never failed his missions.

He laughed, accusing the old man, which Sandoval did not deny. "I want you to pull out my name on the banned list. Mr. Lust, let me back in as a customer. I'm more than willing to pay. Just simply remove my name from the list." Luca's mood was upbeat, despite the obvious desperation on the old man's face. Sandoval's plight is pitiful. "I can easily pull out your name on the list," he said and Sandoval's face lit up. “Then you’ll remove my name?” Luca let out a deep breath. He reached for the briefcase and slammed it shut.

"What did the bastard say?" Eduardo’s voice grated like bone on stone. His cane hammered the gravel of the Cruz Bay Estate, a rhythmic, frantic thud. I stood still, watching the dust settle where Santiago Rivera’s car had vanished. My grandfather reached me, his chest heaving, his face a mask of gray skin and desperation. He grabbed the courtyard wall, knuckles white. He wouldn't touch me. He never touched me. The act was over. The strongman routine he’d performed for Santiago had drained him to the marrow. He needed a hospital bed, but he was too full of pride and poison to admit it.

“Thank you, Father… I love you. You always save me.” His expression softened just slightly. “I love you too, mi hija,” he said. “More than anything. No one hurts my blood and walks away whole.” Then he ended the call. For a moment, the room was silent again. Don Eduardo didn’t sit down. He didn’t relax. Instead, he dialed another number. When the line picked up, his voice changed completely—firm, commanding. “This is Don Eduardo Reyes,” he said. “Listen carefully.” A pause.

Sandro spoke with a grin that made Abe laugh. “Who the hell are you going on about now?” “Oh, the redhead you have working for you? I got eyes everywhere, Abe. I’m not just rich. I’m scary rich and I see things that I want to see.” “Weird flex. You know who tried to kill you yet?” Sandro flinched. “Ouch. You’re breaking my heart, Abe.” “Says the guy who sleep his way in college until you met Selena. Putting that aside, have you? Did you check out if your dad was responsible?”

I swallowed hard, trying to calm myself. Theo released me and looked at me. "Nicholas will be fine. Edward Sandoval was the one who got shot… critically, Blue." I palmed my face and shook my head. Edward… I'm so sorry…

"You must be out of your senses Edwardo!" One of José's men yelled from behind one of the pillars. Edwardo moved from his hiding spot, he aimed at one of the men who was hiding behind a thin wall, the man was taken unaware. He dropped dead, and Edwardo also fired at another. "I've been hit!" Fernando yelled, Fernando is one of Santiago's men. He was shot in the leg.

Venice took a key from her skirt pocket and opened the shelf with glass. “This is where the important files are placed,” Venice explains, taking out a blue book with 2015-2018 students written on the blue hardcover Vesta closed the drawer. They went to a nearby table, Venice put down the book and opened it after sitting down. Vesta leaned over the empty seat, unaware that she was just watching what her friend was doing. "Oh! Here! Number 112018305, Edward Sandoval, course bachelor of science botany, 19 years old, September 25, 2000, living at Florez street number 126, Father is American, Mother is Filipino. Living with his Mother," Venice read.

I said, pushing him away to look him in the eye “my son’s father is going to be his idol. I do not expect you to be backing out when the first impact hits you. You have survived so many bullets that I am surprised that this one hurt you this much” “Yes, I understand that it hurts, and yes, I am very well aware that some bullets hit harder than others. But you are Dante D’Angelo, son of Angelina D’Angelo, and despite you hating him, Giovanni D’Angelo. No, I never want to compare you to him in terms of morals, or the way he acts around things. But I know one thing about that fucking bastard, and it is if he starts something, he does not stop until he’s done with it. No matter what the cost is,