Hells Kitchen Black Jacket Novels & Stories

- - While things were heating up with Harper and Damon, the opposite was happening in the black wolves’ main house. The servers outdid themselves with the food and the decorations. Shahila woke up from a nap thinking like there’s a mini festival happening in the place. Banners of black triads with the pack’s crest were hung from one tree to another. The kitchen was smoking on the chimneys and people come and go from the main hall. “Woah, did I somehow wake up in a different world or something?” – Shahila asked when she walked beside Alora. The latter was holding a black long dress, folded in three equal folds.

He shot her a glance and went in to find his jacket on the couch. "I will go to the kitchen first. Dinner is almost ready." She hurried back to the kitchen, her heart threatening to leap out of her chest when she saw the way he looked at the jacket. When dinner was ready, she heard Anthony's voice from the living room, saying, "Come out here." She jolted warily, and headed out of the kitchen hesitantly, tensing when she saw the jacket in Anthony's hands. "Explain this," he said. The yellowish burnt mark was hard to miss on the black suit jacket.

Technically, maids are not to be allowed close to the chefs while they’re cooking, but I always figured out a way to blend in by assisting and always volunteering to clean the kitchen. **** Soon, it was evening, and the news got to us that the Blackwell family had arrived in New York and were on their way. We were all ordered to line-up outside to welcome them. “Liz, wear this.” Hazel shoved something black into my hands. I blinked, confused. “What’s this?” “A mask. Put it on quickly.” I frowned. “Why?” Hazel looked around. “You don’t want them getting suspicious about your looks.” She gazed at me. “Though you look totally different now, but…”

“Now, I’d like to invite you all into the packhouse to join me for some refreshments and drinks. What kind of host would I be if I didn't offer you something to eat and drink.” “Cut the bullshit,” Hazel snapped. “We're not here to visit. You know damn well why we're here. Jake took Billy and we want him back.” “Tsk tsk tsk.” A male voice came from the top of the stairs. Jake emerged. He was dressed all in black, like he normally was. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his forearm. His fedora was perched on his head in such a way that it covered his right eye. I didn't like that. It bothered me that I couldn't look him in the eye.

All my casual wears and shoes are also black. I love black. It makes me feel like a devil. I love being a devil. I got clad in a black hoodie,black jeans and black sneakers. I walked out of my bedroom. I stay alone in my mansion. The cook,cleaning lady and the butler stay in the house beside my mansion. They only have to perform their duty and leave me the fuck alone. They have to keep their distance from me because I can't get touched.... Funnily enough, I can touch someone but if I have any body's hands on me,it would lead to a panick attack.

I was content with the sight of the Doritos packet so I grabbed it and just as I was about to leave the kitchen, Bishop stepped in. "I knew someone was in here," he just said as he put his hands in his pockets. I looked at him from head to toe. He wore a full black outfit. A pair of black jeans, a black shirt that clung onto his muscles and showed the tattoos on his arms and neck. A single golden chain around his neck and earrings in his ears and some parts of his face. He looked threatening and handsome at the same time. "Y-y...eah, I was...hungry."

Of course, he was enjoying every moment of misery, and that’s when a new wave of determination zinged through me, and I refused to die without a fight. But my stomach clenched tightly as he took a small step into the kitchen. Short, ragged breaths were rushing out of me now. Raising the knife in the air, I blurted out, “Stop right there.” My voice was thick with fear. He was wearing a long black cloak. A hoodie covered the upper half of his face while the rest was hidden behind a mask. But I didn’t need to see his face to feel the malice oozing out of him. I could have bet my soul that he had descended straight from Hell.

"There's food in the kitchen." I tighten the towel around myself and walk out of the bathroom, my bare feet silent against the cold marble floors. The glass mansion stretches out before me, all sharp angles and floor-to-ceiling windows. The adrenaline from the woods is completely gone now, replaced by something heavier. Something that feels terrifyingly permanent. I find a black silk button-down hanging on the back of the bedroom door. It's clearly one of Malakai's, and it swallows me whole, hitting mid-thigh. I roll up the sleeves and make my way toward the kitchen.

Turning his head slightly, as if listening to something I couldn’t hear, he said, “Demon, if you would.” The shadows in the restaurant thickened. They dripped from the walls like molasses, like oil in water. Emerging from a sheet of darkness was Kaelith. He was dressed this time in black from neck to toe. A fitted, long sleeve shirt molded to his lean form, the sleeves tight around his wrists. His hair was an oil slick in this light, with a milk white slash through the front. Those crimson eyes fell on me. He said nothing. He didn’t need to.

Emily felt nauseous and a toilet was enough to puke the dinner she had that was in her stomach away. Everything went black, she wanted to voice out but her lips wouldn't move from her shocked state. Within a millisecond, candles lit up. She's in a room, A luxurious room, signifying Royalty. The walls were painted Black, the candles that lit up was a chandelier. Everything in the room was painted in black and gold and It was beautiful. She inhaled at such a beautiful sight yet despite how beautiful it looked, the fact that she's in an unknown room with the hell's king scared her. "How-"