From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series Santanico Mga Nobela at Kwento

His white garment was already torn into pieces and the glazes on his skin were oozing with blood. Druji slowly turned her eyes to the wretched body of Vivar. He was even unrecognizable due to the terrible cuts on his face. She gripped tightly the rusted bars, dismayed by Vivar’s dreadful situation. “How could you do this to him? I told you he will never tell where the chosen one is even if you kill him.” Druji snarled. Due to her frustration, she didn’t even realize her voice was raised. Dubheasa’s forehead creased as she heard the sudden changes in Druji’s tone. She glared as she walked toward her, gripping tightly on her whip. “Are you trying to defy me because of this soldier?” She growle

Standing up, he stumbled to the door and opened it. “Gracious me, Lucian, you are not dressed yet?” Antonio asked, baffled as he pushed past him and entered the room. Lucian glanced at his wristwatch and surprised to see that he had been asleep for straight six hours. How possible? He wondered, that is the longest he had slept in two years without being jerked awake by a bad dream. He glanced at who was still sitting on the sofa and smiling softly at what Antonio said and he wondered how long she had been sitting there. “I don’t have anything to wear,” he heard her say followed by Antonio’s exclamation.

She began, raising the one question that had formed since she'd seen the photograph. "He's my leader. What else do you want to know?" "A name would be nice considering that I've been hunting him for nearly three years." "His name is Demitri Van Santen." "It's nice to finally put a name to that blood sucking warthog." "Warthog huh? You sure do hate him a lot." He stated, not at all surprised by her attitude. "You would too if he killed the only person in the world who gave a damn about you."

Fucking Sierra Jane is messing with my mind and turning me on just by thinking of last night. I can't believe myself, I am late and totally left everyone hanging when I was the one suggesting everyone not to party hard or drink too much before the performance and final session and here I am the only one who have drunk too much, the fucking hangover killing me and top of that to fuck Sierra, though I not regretting it one bit.

"You called my private line at three in the morning because a stray dog crawled into a warehouse? Shoot him and throw him in the river, Santino. Don't waste my time." "Sir, you don't understand," Santino pressed, his breath hitching over the static. "He knows the old clearance protocols. He gave us a code phrase that hasn't been used in over ten years. He said if I didn't bring you to him tonight, the Russo family would bleed from the inside out. He’s... he’s hurt bad, Don Dominic. You need to get down here." The line went dead.

But as they walked through those doors, hands clasped, heads held high, Dante felt his phone buzz with an incoming message. He glanced at the screen and felt his blood run cold. A photo from Catalina showing Sofia bound in the warehouse, tears streaming down her young face. And beneath it: The show's about to start, Don Valentino. Hope you and Isabella are ready for your marriage to die in front of everyone you know. Oh, and about Marco's "rescue team" outside the warehouse? I'm watching them right now. They make one move toward Sofia before I give the signal, and your sister-in-law loses her head. Literally. So smile for the cameras. Wave to your guests. And get ready to lose everything. Se

Naka-bathrobe sila lahat at parang gusto ko na yatang mag-backout. "Ritz, siya si Dawn, new model. Pakiayusan na siya para maisalang na agad," sabi ni Vinzon sa babaeng lumapit sa amin. Tiningnan ako ng babae mula ulo hanggang paa bago ngumisi. Napalunok ako at mas lalong kinabahan. "Sumunod ka sa 'kin," sabi niya kaya alanganin akong sumunod.

RHETT Dawn came, and I sat on the folded couch rubbing some cream onto my feet. A welcomed gift, that Nyctimus’ mate had sent to our room last night. The ointment was already doing its job and soothing my feet. This was the second application I was putting on and already my sore and blistered feet were beginning to heal.

Inside: two antique pistols, a manila envelope, and an untraceable phone. He took the phone. Dialed a number he hadn’t used in five years. “Ready.” A voice on the other end. No name. No greeting. Dante didn’t need one. “Priority black. Eyes on Matteo Santoro. All known associates, movements, aliases. Full trace.” A pause. “He’s dead.” “No,” Dante said coldly. “He’s back. And if I see one hesitation from you or your crew, you’ll join him in the ground.”

Dorian was shaking beside me, his eyes fixed on the fire. "He’s still in there," Dorian whispered. "No," I said, my voice hardening into steel as I stood up. I looked at the encrypted coordinates glowing on the screen. "He’s a Santoro. He’s too arrogant to die in a pile of rust." I turned away from the fire, looking toward the dark outline of the Veronesi factory in the distance. The "Regret" had done its job. Now, it was time for the "Revenge."