Hells Kitchen Black Jacket Mga Nobela at Kwento

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…”

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.

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-"

I coughed, looking around. I had woken up in what looked like a torture dungeon, shackles and weapons being the theme of the room. I wasn't alone in the room. He was here with me. He seemed taller than I remember. His hair covered his face, hiding the true magnitude of the rage in his expression. The dark twisted look in his eyes promised nothing short of pain. His fist tightened so that I could see the threat of his well-built muscles coiling in his body.

And there he was. Damien Blackwood stood near the massive kitchen island, pouring two glasses of red wine. He wore a black button-down with the sleeves rolled up again, revealing those strong forearms, and dark slacks that did nothing to hide how powerfully built he was. When he saw me, his steel-gray eyes darkened with immediate hunger. “Fuck, Kira,” he said, voice low and rough. “You look even better than I imagined.” I stepped out of the elevator, heels clicking on the marble floor. “The necklace… it’s beautiful.”

I rolled my eyes and spun on my heels, heading into the kitchen to say hello to Alberta. I twisted the door handle and stepped into the luxurious kitchen, my eyes zeroing in on a girl that was dressed in a black hoodie on a pair of skinny jeans, and leather boots. She had her brown hair covering most of her face and Alberta had her back turned to her, trying to regulate the gas cooker.

Shouldn’t he do something about it? “Do it yourself. Milo let’s go” Ralph strode out walking past Klara who was rooted on her spot hearing his words ‘Do it myself’ She stared at Ralph’s back who wore a black leather jacket on top of black t shirt paired with black leather pants. He looked like Hades in all black attire, the devil and the king of hell. Actually, he always wears black from head to toe including his shoes, watch and even his cufflinks were made from black enamel and diamonds. But she’s not in the mood to appreciate his looks.