Helluva Boss Oc Novels & Stories

The city that wanted a hero, even if that hero was made of lies. His chest tightened. Was he about to become part of the illusion? Was he going to stand before the cameras and tell millions that the Boss was not who everyone knew he was? The officer leaned closer. “Remember, Rico. The Boss is a good man. That’s all you need to say. Good men protect their families. Good men protect boys like you.” Rico shut his eyes. He wanted to scream, but his voice had long been stolen. Meanwhile, in his estate on the hill, the Boss poured himself a glass of aged whiskey. He stood by the window, watching the city lights flicker like dying stars.

Return it to its original place, which is the depths of Hell. ****************************** He rose from his shrine, subjugated by the survival instinct that urges him to search for a source of sustenance at any cost that needs to be subsisted. Now and now, otherwise his liver will be damaged and his heart will collapse within a few hours. He opened his confused eyes, the smell of blood with his senses awakening him from his slumber, he turned around and watched his surroundings ripple around him, but the strong smell led him to his arm, which he raised. He shredded it directly with his teeth to sip what it contained.

I grab my sandwich and take a bite"It's not healthy. That job is forcing you a lot, don't you think you should give yourself a break? She snorts and shakes her head. " It's nothing special Kia"Roll your eyes" I can always replace lunch at dinner time. And regarding work, you know I can't leave it, how would I pay for the house? Now it's my turn to roll my eyes. This is a town where, even as a homeowner, you have to pay a monthly fee for always living here. Go town. Wow boss. The whole town is run by one person: the boss of the Russian mafia, or as many call it: The Boos.

“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.

"Because I can feel your hormones rising when you're near me. Your body desires me, Carter. I don't think you can force me out of here when your own flesh is begging me to stay." With a swift movement, Carter pulled a small red scarf from his pocket, imbued with holy water and prayers of light. A white incandescence began to glow from the fabric. Without hesitation, he pressed it against Dorian’s forehead. "DEMON, LEAVE THIS BODY! I COMMAND YOU BY THE ETERNAL LIGHT!" Carter screamed. Dorian let out a barely audible moan that didn't sound human. His body recoiled before the authority of the divine order. He fell to his knees, clutching his chest tightly, as Dorian Thorne’s face contorted in a

“I haven’t even spoken to my boss about it yet, I still have a project pending his approval.” Boss. My heart did a stupid little jump. We greeted people as we walked. I smiled at everyone like I belonged there already. When we got close to the boss’s office, I straightened my dress and prayed the door would be open. It was. Dad stepped forward first, greeting Mr. Rowan. And then my eyes met his. For a brief, impossible second, it was like the world slowed. My stomach flipped, my breath caught in my throat. He looked away almost immediately.

Keep laughing asshole, I am doing your damn job, Doona thought. "That's... that's exactly what I said. Are you deaf? I clearly said hypoallergenic. Ugh, the people they hire here are so rude." The old woman huffed and pulled the shampoo out of Doona's hands. "So is it hypoallergenic?" She demanded from Doona. "Absolutely." Doona stared innocently at the woman; she then placed three types of shampoos into the woman's cart. Doona watched the old woman walk away after the woman was done shouting at Chihun and hissing at Doona.

She stops at the head of the table. “Good day gentleman. You can all stand up. The Boss will be entering now” she says and her voice sounds familiar but I just cannot place where I have heard it before. The Boss enters the room with a black cloak covering his face. He walks around the room and takes the seat at the head of the table, right below the vent where Lilliana and I are hiding. The Boss places his hands on the arm rests and I notice a ring on his left small- finger. Johnny has told me about these rings, he has one just like it. The rings are a symbol of your position and rank as a Mafia boss. This Boss has the same symbol on his ring that Johhny has. It carries the engraving of a fa

Hugging him, in fact, had been quite an experience, but then countless thoughts came to my mind. He is my bosses' son. He is my bosses' son... I repeated that phrase several times in my mind. He was certainly Mr. Scott's son, feeling or imagining something inappropriate with him would be disrespectful. Besides, I didn't want Mrs. Taylor to end up being right. The lights in the apartment unexpectedly went out. It seemed that the storm had caused a blackout. Oh God. Everything was in darkness, and I could barely see anything except for the reflections of lightning invading the apartment through the glass windows. I walked slowly towards the kitchen exit, afraid of bumping into something. It wa

The boss smirked at the little kid who desperately tried to stop his own blood from spilling and commanded each of the six individuals to pack up as they all headed out "Don't bother killing the kid. Just leave that orphaned garbage here and let's burn everything down. This boat needs to disappear along with these orphaned traitors. Let the kid share his traitor brother's watery grave." As Michael sat on the waste bags, the boss took off his gloves and threw them in the speedboat that they used, meanwhile revealing the tattoo of a black and red crescent moon on the back of his hand. Michael awaited the group of killers to get in the boat and leave while he tried to press on his wound a littl