His Ugly Possession Novels & Stories

She whispered to herself, “Let them write their stories. They’ll rewrite them soon enough.” Then she started the car, her expression smoothing back into that perfect socialite composure she’d worn for years. The madness simmered just beneath it now, quiet but alive. As she pulled out of the street and merged into traffic, one thought repeated in her mind, over and over again, steady, chilling, determined. Milo belongs to me. Julian’s car pulled into the underground parking lot of Cross Holdings, the quiet hum of the engine fading as the doors sealed the world outside.

"You are my possesion. Whatever I want I get" His voice boomed with power and authority. I was confused. I had no qualities. I was not an American top model, I had no status or cliche I would even compare my self with with a distinct fashion designer because she wears designer clothes but he choosed to own me. Someone with baggages a person who has burdens, someone who had nothing concrete to give a man like him even though a man like him had everthing and yet he choose me.

The body she had never found was now, in reality, burned to ashes. “You shouldn’t have taken my daughter’s life.” “I had no choice. She slandered me viciously and tried to hurt my fiancée—sorry, now my wife,” Kingston added, making his final statement precise and clear. This provoked the savage side of Venessa, causing her knuckles to turn white as she clenched her fists around the iron bar. It became painfully clear just how much Venessa possessed the supernatural abilities August had described. The area around the pillar seemed to undergo a form of oxidation as the woman screamed in rage. The specially crafted prison bars instantly crumbled, her hands gripping the roughly torn-out bars.

Ugly. "Ari," I screamed at the top of my voice, just before she could pull the trigger. "Is this what you really want?”

Miguel yelled running fast to Lewis He held a keg of petrol and a lighter in his hand "Don't come any closer Miguel. Cos I'll kîll you "Lewis said seriously with red eye "Lewis please listen_" "Listen to what!? The hell do you wanna tell me!!? I fûcking lost my child! We lost our baby ! Someone needs to pay, Scarlett is on the the run. But till she's found her parents and all the bàstard in here will pay!!" Lewis ranted resuming pouring the petrol on the gates He's already jammed it shut. No one can come or go in

Elena I watched him kill. I had never seen anything like it. I had never imagined anything like it. My uncle's cruelty had been private. Quiet. A broken plate. A thrown bottle. A slap in the kitchen when no one was watching. This was not quiet. This was loud and wet and terrible and I could not look away. He moved like a man possessed. Like something had crawled inside him and taken over. He did not fight like a soldier. He did not fight like a man defending something. He fought like a man who had forgotten he was a man at all.

That's all I was - all I've ever been to him. But who could blame him? I was pathetic and even now… I was still pathetic. I shuddered in self disgust as his finger stroke my chin. “You are a good girl - so just be one for your new owners.” I didn't blink or think. Before I could stop myself my hands flew and a loud smack echoed through the room. Damien recoiled back in shock and palmed the cheek I had just slapped. Without a moment hesitation, I stood and ran. Through the hallway. Past the photos on the wall I now hated. My purse lay on the kitchen counter—I snatched it and made for the door.

He inhaled slowly, trying to make out thoughts that wouldn't hurt his head this much. Calla. He groaned as his mind wound back to her. Her fair skin that turned red when he spanked it. Those red lips he’d bitten until they bled. Her soft hair, twisted in his fist like reins while he rode her mercilessly. Why must he end up in those memories when he's trying to find a peaceful place in his head? He blinked back to the present, and they were still at it, all on their feet. "...everyone knows the cause of those damaged shipments was a whore!" Associate Giuseppe said to Associate Pietro's face. "And he brought the girl back home with him! Pathetic!"

“What the hell do you mean that this apple is the only strange thing?” “That’s because the apple got rotten from the inside. Look closely and you’ll see the worms.” She poked, knowing Dante’s fear of worms. “Wo-worms?!” Dante stammered as she froze in his tracks. He stared at Delilah instead of the apple which was supposed to have worms in them. Delilah folded her hands along her chest and nodded. “Yes, Dante. Worms.” Dante shrieked and bolted out of the kitchen at lightning speed as his blood-curdling scream filled the air. He raced towards his room, also frantically contemplating cutting his tongue off to escape the sensation of the worms.

The sunlight left shadows on his face, but when he spoke I finally realized what had happened to me a few hours ago. Kidnapped! “You are up?” Franklyn muttered with so much disgust. He walked forward and held my jaw, piercing his finger deep in my skin. “Living large?” He spat. “The Moretti's are nothing but snakes. Having others do their dirty work and when it's done, what do they do? Wipe them off like they were nothing but dogs.” “I swear to end all of you.” I stared coldly at him. There were moments I thought of dying—but being killed by a loser like him? Not a chance.