El Teca Señora Acero Novels & Stories

Ace teases me and returns his attention to his laptop. **

“RIGHT. THANK YOU FOR THE MATH THAT IS MAKING MY HEAD BLEED.” Elena didn’t even blink. She was scrolling through specs. “Relax,” she murmured. “It’s just equipment.” “EQUIPMENT?” Jace sputtered. “You didn’t buy equipment. You bought Narnia. You bought a moon base. You bought...” “A gaming rig.” She tapped the screen once, satisfied. “And a thermal matrix. And a quantum decryptor. And six curved monitors. And a privacy field generator.” Jace stared at her.

The margin was filled with the smell of burnt vinegar. As the First Assessor collapsed, the massive steel drum above them dropped another six inches. The negative engraving of the town of Black-Basin, a four-foot block of inverted stone chimneys and iron sluice-gates, pressed directly against Elara’s left shoulder blade. The cold steel bit into her meat skin. The pressure forced the wire in her throat to slide another inch up toward her palate. "Elara...write...the...margin..." Leo's ceramic head groaned, his white solar glare flickering as the cylinder's shadow closed over his forehead.

[AZTEC] With Rodrigo gone, Aztec looked at the television, the sight of his woman making his heart once again beat fast. He knew he had no right to her, to find everything he had done to her, but theta didn't stop his heart from debating with desire for the forbidden.

We don’t always use our Alpha titles during sex, but sometimes it’s fun and this is one of those nights. “Goddess, yes. I need to feel you inside me. Please.” She begs, practically whimpering, her emerald green eyes pleading with me. Those eyes. When Scarlett turns those big green eyes on you, it’s like she’s looking directly into your soul. It’s almost unnerving, yet at the same time, you never want to pull your eyes away from hers.

There were no chains, no gloves, and no mirrors. “Hi! You must be Elira,” a woman said with bright eyes as she extended her hand. “I’m Tessa. I’ll show you around.” Camela hesitated before shaking her hand. Touch without pain; her palm didn’t burn. She forced a smile. “Yes…Elira. That’s me,” she replied. But inside, her real name felt like a locked door that she couldn’t keep closed. Elira sat stiffly at her desk by the window, the cheap plastic chair digging into her legs. Papers piled up in front of her, folders spilling open like wounded mouths. A phone rang from across the room, sharp and unending but nobody moved to answer it.

After the meal, Jia and Elena headed to the bathroom to touch up their makeup. Jia leaned against the sink as Elena opened her red lipstick and carefully applied it, the color gliding onto her lip. She pressed her lips together, blending the shade..before turning to Jia. "How well do you know Mr. Tiziano?" Jia asked, her voice soft "Is he hard to work with?" Elena paused, studying herself in the mirror as she finished adjusting her lipstick "He's the CEO of Titan's Entertainment, where I work. He's been out of the country for five years—people say he's started a business in Tokyo”

The Thames was a mirror of cold steel as Alessandro climbed onto the wet cobblestones of the Royal Docks. He was drenched, his tactical gear slick with sewer grime, but his eyes were locked on the woman leaning against the black SUV. **Elena** looked impeccable, her sharp trench coat a stark contrast to the chaos Alessandro had just crawled out of. "You really did it," she said, her voice barely a whisper against the wind. "You didn't just burn the house down, Alessandro. You nuked the neighborhood."

I told her with a smirk. The next day, Tessa, Nico, and I drove to Mr. Everhart’s villa. As always, he didn’t ask questions about where I’d been. He stood there, reserved as ever, his expression unreadable. The car was waiting for us, draped in velvet covers. When the fabric was pulled back, my jaw nearly hit the ground. Tessa wasn’t exaggerating, it wasn’t just a car. It was art. A sleek, pearl-white Mercedes-Maybach Exelero, custom-built, with diamond-studded accents along the interior. The rims gleamed under the sunlight like liquid silver, and the leather inside was stitched with my initials.