El Teca Señora Acero Novels & Stories

"My husband says that his spine piece wasn't too bad. More like thousands of needles poking into him." "Because it is thousands of needle pricks!" "Backing out already, Alvara?" Teagan asked. There was a smirk on her lips. Straightening my spine, I looked at the assortment of bottles. Chocolate tequila stood out the most to me. I grabbed the bottle and popped the cap. Teagan giggled and took her own bottle. Adelia watched with amusement from the side. "I take that as a sign to proceed with the design," Jean murmured, finishing up the piece for me.

She concludes with a scathing chuckle. Mercedes sets her tea back down on the tray, leans back against the sofa and repositions her body so that she is facing her; her eyes heavily penetrating hers. "Your insults have no bearing on me, Zeynep. I have triumphed; Sedar is now mine. Therefore, you may continue to disparage me all you want, but it will have no effect on the fact that Sedar is mine." She proudly displays her rings by raising her hand and wriggling her finger in front of her.

"Hey, kid! You got a minute?" Kid? I was no kid, but fuck, hearing her say it made my dick stir. I shut off the mower and walked over, wiping sweat from my brow. Up close, she was even hotter, her lipstick red as sin, with her cleavage spilling out of her tank top. "Yeah, Mrs. Ramirez? What's up?" "Call me Elena," she said, smirking like she knew exactly what she was doing. "My AC's acting up. It's hotter than hell in there. You any good with your hands?"

CHAPTER 57: THE REALITY OF THE RIFT The grainy, flickering image on the terminal screen felt like a physical blow to my solar plexus. I stood frozen, my silver-mercury wings twitching with a nervous, electric energy that mirrored the static on the monitor. The woman in the video—the real Elena—looked like a hollowed-out version of the nightmare I had been fighting. Her eyes weren't white-gold; they were a weary, human brown, rimmed with the kind of exhaustion that only comes from decades of being buried alive.

The atmosphere inside the study of Elena's private mansion was unbearably tense. Elena stood by the window with her arms folded across her chest, her sharp gaze fixed on the front courtyard, where a limited-edition black sports car was still secured atop a tow truck. Standing before her, Aria lowered her head, clutching her work tablet with fingers that trembled ever so slightly.

"What the hell is this, Elara? You think a few bankruptcies make you a queen?" Vane’s voice crackled through the secure line, distorted by the scrambler. Elara sat behind the mahogany desk of her new office, the skyline of the city a jagged silhouette against a bleeding sunset. She didn't look at the view. She watched the ticker on her monitor, watching the stock of the Marcone family plummet into the dirt.

I would never choose a rundown place to stay, not even for a day. "My lady, are you alright?" Tia asked, worried. She immediately crouched down to pick up the pieces of glass on the floor. Although she was an omega, goddess Alectrona had left a small amount of her power in her body, making her a little stronger than her fellow omegas. "Do I look like I am alright, Tia? I hate this!" I roared as I kicked the table, which was just fixed yesterday. I was so mad at our situation that I vexed my rage on the furniture and anything that my hands could reach most of the time.

As we turned, a sleek woman in red, some tech mogul’s wife, sidled up to Dante, her hand brushing his arm. “Don Lucchese, the Range Rover’s exquisite. 4.4L V8, 523 hp, B6 armor, perfect for discretion. Care to show me the details?” Her eyes screamed invitation, lashes fluttering. I pressed against Dante, my body molding to his, glaring daggers at her. “He’s busy, señora,” I said, voice like velvet-wrapped steel. “With me.” She paled under my stare, muttering excuses and slinking away. Dante chuckled low, his hand squeezing my ass. “Possessive, amore mio?”

she warned, her tone tightening. Diego let out a bitter laugh. “What are you going to do? Intimidate me with that sweet little voice? I see the fear in your eyes, niña. Go ahead—show me what you’ve got.” Elena tilted her head and smiled coldly. “You don’t know me, Diego. If only you did.” Without another word, she uncapped the bottle and poured the contents on his leg. Diego’s scream tore through the warehouse as the acid seared his flesh.

She noticed Pedro signalling her to not say anything, but she went ahead and mubled, “I will never know, I grew up with my aunt—a humble teacher and a farmer.” Dame Rossa’s face turned cold, unimpressed. “It appears you lack noble blood, Tessa.” “It depends on your definition of nobility” Tessa managed to say. “Excuse me?” Dame Rossa asks, requesting a reiteration. Don Pedro tries to speak, but Regina interrupts, “Nothing Aunty, can we just eat?” The tension in the room was becoming intense, everybody silently digging into their plate and munching. Dame Rossa spoke up again, “So Tell me, Pedro. Was this woman the reason you rejected Macarena Rodriguez?”