Gangster Doll Novels & Stories

Desire and fury collided in his chest, an unstable alchemy that made his beast form strain against the edges of itself, as though his own skin no longer quite fit. He turned back toward her. His little doll. The thought tasted wrong the moment it formed—doll suggested fragility, obedience, glass. She was none of those things. She was a knife that had forgotten it was meant to stay sheathed. She scrambled to her feet. Blood dripped from her palms. Her dress was torn. Her hair tangled. And yet she stood tall and proud. The forest clung to her—leaves in her hair, dirt on her knees, his blood on her hands—marking her as surely as any rune.

Saint probably wants to pour himself another cup full of vodka, so I move out of the way, "Also, Dylan is not a rapist. He totally wants to brag about how you much wanted him, so he wouldn't actually rape you. And don't fucking joke about that, Dollerina, it's bad karma. You could get actually raped." "Don't fucking jinx me," she growls and then makes a quick prayer. She’s so superstitious, "Fine, maybe it wasn't rape, but he totally took advantage of me. He said he's coming back soon, so I bet he'll want to go see you and brag. Just don't let him win, baby, okay? Pretend you don't care at all, you know he gets hard thinking about you getting angry. Like, literally." "Gross," I mutter, looki

I dragged his body out of the bushes, laying it out in the open as I pulled out a syringe from my pocket and stabbing it into his face as a sigh left his lips as his eyes half opened then he went unconscious but he said softly, “ Paolo.” He knew my name, only extremely close people knew that. Others referred to me as Capo. No matter what. I let out a breath, calming down as I walked over to the body with all precautions. I was finally close to the body, I knelt down beside it as I placed my finger by the nose and he wasn't breathing. He was dead. I pucker my lips, feeling like I just made a bad mistake as I pulled off the mask to see his face clearly but I didn't recognize him, I only notice

And then I found the word, bold and clear, right there in the title. Doll. I looked up at him. He was watching me, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Something that looked like satisfaction. “I want you to be my Doll,” he said. Mia made a sound behind me, a sharp intake of breath, but I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. I was standing in my doorway, holding a contract that said I was his, and the man who’d been following me for two weeks was waiting for me to sign it.

"Dylan, we both know I'm a street girl. I go to clubs, I deal on drugs and I have run ins with criminals. That was my life before I met you. And I'm sure you must have deduced that by now. I even killed a man in your presence which is why you asked me to join your mafia cartel business. "I've done many criminal acts even before meeting you, Dylan. I'm not of proper parental upbringing. I'm not of good social standing. I'm not even able to do certain household chores or take care of a child. Are you sure you want to be with me despite knowing all these?" she asked, looking him directly into his eyes. He sighed and collapsed back onto the bed beside her, her hands leaving him in the process.

I'm familiar with most gangsters, so just in case. ''He had long hair, an ugly scarred face, and rough tattooed hands. Oh, and he was dressed in traditional robes.'' ''Oh, that's...'' Nikolai recognized the gangster right away after hearing the description. Yes, he was sure...it was none other than Hester Roswell's biggest rival; Satoru Miyamoto. He was an Alpha gangster in his early 60s and was famous for his drugs.

One of them was muscular and big, with numerous tattoos and piercings on his face, as well as diamond earrings. As I approached them, I realized that one of them was Kendrick, the most popular gangster we couldn't get arrested. My eyes widened in shock. Both of them were heading towards the BMW, which was still lying on the ground with gasoline leaking from it and spreading on the road. I paused as Kendrick's man crouched to peer into the car. "Come out, old man. It's time to meet your doom," Kendrick bellowed, holding his gun with both hands and a devious expression on his face. Who was his target? I had to help them.

The gangster lit a cigarette, took a puff, and blew a smoke ring towards the air. "B*tch, don't you know what you have done and who you have offended?" He laughed devilishly and stretched out his hands to pinch her chin fiercely. "I'm warning you, be honest and cooperate with me, or I'll r*pe you and kill you, and you'll have a tragic end." The temperature in the air suddenly dropped, and Liya felt cold all over. She trembled and asked, "Are you sent here by the Jones Group?" The gangster gave a cold snort and glanced at her. "You're reaping what you sowed. Be obedient and cooperate with me if you don't want to suffer much."

DJ announced cheerfully. Van Dough then ordered Cooper and the rest of the men to collect the notes of money from the floor. "You see, this is what happens when you are on the hit list." Doll said to Amelia who replied, "aren't you guys?" "Jewel is the first and the oldest stripper of this club. Nobody can replace her." Doll said. "C'mon let's take you to meet my clients." Doll took her to the sofa bar where three men were sitting, strippers on their laps.

"They are done talking. They mean to kill you." Doll bit down on the ear of the Tawny from the gas station, intending to rip it off if need be. He also tried to choke him but his wrist reminded him this act of passion was ill-advised. Vulnerable from the jolt of pain from his injury, Doll was flipped over the Tawny's head. Hitting the ground on his back, Doll saw stars. He heard Hades growling at his attackers, telling them to stay the fuck away from his no-fur. The Soot-walker was signing his own death warrant by claiming Doll as his. Forget not taking the money, he was risking his neck by telling what were essentially mob hit-toms that he was stealing Gran's property.