Helluva Boss Comics Novels & Stories

And the oldest, Giacomo, grey temples, Roman accent thick as supplì—his own countryman, inside for life since the Banda della Magliana days. They watched Vito the way wolves watch a new dog enter the pen. Giacomo flicked his cigarette away and walked over, slow, no hurry. “Vito Andolini,” he said, voice low. “They told me the Boss finally arrived. Thought you’d be taller.” Vito met his eyes. “They told you wrong. I’m not the boss of anything anymore.” Giacomo smiled without warmth. “In here, everyone’s something. Question is what you’re willing to pay to become it again.”

Xavier said putting his hands under Aria's butt and standing up with her He started to walk when he turned around. "And for the record I'm not just a guy." he gave me a wicked smirk "I run this joint." They walked away and I felt a little lonely when I heard Aria laugh as they went down the corridor. I leaned over and looked at the people passing down below. It took me a couple of minutes for Xavier's words to register and when they did a gasp left my mouth. Wait.....He's the Boss???? XAVIER'S THE BOSS OF THE MAFIA!!!!

"Now undress me.” Like a robot on command, I walked towards him to do as I was told. He had already taken off his shoes, leaving him with his buttoned up long sleeved shirt and belted pants. I started to undo each bottom after the other, beginning from the bottom. I was halfway through the process when I felt his hands cup both butt cheeks and jerk my towards him. Another loud gasp escaped my lips when my breasts crashed against his chest and my vagina felt his bulge. I didn't understand why or how I was even enjoying this. The initial idea of sleeping with my boss's husband repulsed me. I was disgusted at him when I realized he also wanted to do the same, but now. Now all I wanted to do was

"That's actually funny. She really think she's a catch? Boss could have anyone. Why take Philip's leftovers?" "She was just trashing the boss, and now she's begging? No shame." "Serves her right. Gold digger got checked. Boss nailed it." Clara's face went white. Her lips shook. Tears ran, but no one cared. They laughed it out. Then my smile disappeared. "So what are you all laughing at?" I said, slow. "I don't remember saying I'd let you off."

Someone who could possibly have a dangerous weapon on him and might end up doing horrible things to me? Knowing that I was only procrastinating from the worst, I opened my eyes to the shocking realization that it wasn't a burglar, but my boss, Nathan Synclair, sitting on a chair by the bed and taking on his phone. Correction, yelling on his phone. Even in a wrinkled blue shirt and grey tailored pants; disheveled short black hair and electric blue eyes, he had the power to wreck havoc to my senses, and even in my sleep induced jumbled state of mind, I was glad to see him by my side. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t making much sense right now, otherwise, why on earth would I be glad to see my bully-b

’ “BOSS! I GOT THE CRAZY OLD MAN!” The bald man was really annoyed and his vicious gaze landed on his subordinate. “Why did you bring him? Do you want me to do your job?” He huffed. “No, boss. I apologize.” The thug subordinate pushed the crazy old man in front of the bald man. This was his time to show off that he was fierce and deserved to be promoted. He stepped on the old man’s chest and loudly asked. “Do you know this lady?” The bald man took off the other pair of his shoes and hit the subordinate’s leg a few times. “What b-llsh-t are you doing? Get your legs off the old man!”

He asked. “I swear by my life, sir,” I cried, trying to avoid his glare, but for some reason my eyes moving back to his. “It was just an honest mistake.” And some fucked up universe coincidence. Seriously, how did all these happen? What are the chances that someone relocate to a new city and end up in bed with a father and son, and the next morning you find out they are your boss. Seriously, even novels don't write such bullshit stories. He was quiet for a moment. Then he bit his lower lips,

If he wasn't too handsome I would have punched him right in the face. "Go. To. Hell." I eyed. "And keep your money. I don't need it." That made him laugh—low and mocking. "Oh, that's rich. You're telling me you don't need five thousand dollars? So you are worse than a whore." His smirk deepened. "Something tells me your boss wouldn't be so proud to hear that you turned down her biggest client's generosity because he told you the truth." I felt like I couldn't breathe. "You don't know anything about me."

“So don't blame innocent guys.” “Carter!” Frank Moore's voice cut through the office like a rusty knife. My boss loomed over my desk, his cheap suit reeking of cigarettes and… failure. He slapped a folder down hard enough to make my empty coffee cup rattle. “Drop the Z-list crap. I've got your next assignment.” I flipped open the folder. A glossy 8x10 headshot of a man stared back at me, all sharp cheekbones, icy blue eyes, and a smirk that probably made stockbrokers wet their pants.