Irina X Karasuma Novels & Stories

"Look at the tattoo on your chest, Julian. Tell everyone what it means." He instinctively covered his chest, then, as if to prove a point, ripped open his shirt. The iris tattoo was still there, but it had been altered. A high-definition close-up appeared on the screen beside him. Where the heart of the flower should have been… was a small, sharp dagger. The Rosso family crest. A collective gasp swept through the pews. "No… that's not possible…" Julian stared down at his own chest, as if seeing the change for the very first time.

“What else do you want, Irina? You said it’s your shop. We bought things. If there’s damage, forward the bill. I’ll have Rukov send the money.” Irina laughed again, soft and bitter. “Always so charming.” Her gaze slid back to me, lingering, assessing. “I suppose I should thank her. She did what I never could. Got you to admit you feel something.” Her voice cracked on the last word. “We were together years ago, Zeden. Before you even married Marissa. We had the same rough life. I gave you everything. I waited. I came back to Russia to try again. I bought this shop so I’d have something here while I waited. And you chose… a nobody? A loser? Over me?”

The scent was faint and could easily be overlooked but he recognized it. Arousal incence. A surge of unease mixed with anger coursed through him— his opponent was more prepared than he thought .Arousal incence was an aphrodisiac but it was very stronger than the normal type of aphrodisiac and coupled with the irresistible woman on the bed, he was losing his restraint. He reached out his hand brushing her cheek. Her skin was burning with need. She didn't pull away, in fact, she leaned into his touch and inhaled his smell like a pet who was lost but had ound her owner.

For several seconds, nobody spoke. Tyler continued staring. Irina remained calm. Collected. Untouchable. The silence became uncomfortable. Karen was the first to break it. “You look well, Irina.” The smile on her face was polite. Too polite. Irina knew the type. The kind of smile women wore when they were measuring each other. Comparing. Competing. “Thank you.” Karen’s smile tightened. The simple answer had given her nothing. No weakness. No bitterness.

Right now, this is the only source of answer I have and I can't afford to risk ruining it. "Good. Now close your eyes and think about the ocean, Just the ocean. Be calm m breathe in and out" I followed every instructions, and suddenly I could feel the temper slowly fading away, followed by the room's hot temperature. "That's it lil princess. There's really no need to be upset darling. No need at all. Your friend did what any normal human should have done in her place. It is hard to process. Remember how you reacted when you saw yourself. So you just need to understand. She's scared but that does not make her a bad friend "

I offered. “Yes, that,” she said. “But Russian.” “How is Russian charades different?” I asked. “More yelling,” Vladimir said dryly. “Irina, you’re up first.” Diana clapped as she retrieved the cards from Igor. Irina groaned but got to her feet. “Fine. Hand me a card.” She pulled one, read it, and then turned to us dramatically. She mimed…a tail? No, claws? “A wolf?” Sergei guessed. Irina shook her head and began… crawling?

Once they met each other, they took a seat on the bench nearby and switched their bag and took a look of what was inside. Vian’s gift for Irina turned out to be a bottle of white floral and honey perfume and everyone knew Irina’s signature scent was always related to white floral, there was also a luxury bronzer and a red lipstick in there which she added in just because a bronzed face with red lipstick, was one of her signature look.

Her name is Kara Blue, I watched her turn fifteen years, she loved to skate and also run away... You might wonder from what?... From the shades and shadows of her past, which has made her a pariah because she has passed through a lot in her short life and people don't wanna associate with someone like 'her'... Emphasis on the 'her'...

IRINA Cessy and I walked stiffly out of the cafe, Miron behind us. Miron's men hurried to open the car door; the night air was very cold. Cessy approached me, whispering stiffly. “You still owe me a lot of explanations, what about compensation for my camera?” she whispered, she stopped talking as Miron stepped closer. “Get in the car now, your friend can take an Uber home,” he said. Cessy nodded, offering no resistance. “See you later, Irina,” she said. She stepped away stiffly, frightened, wary.

It was just one of those horrible, inexplicable accidents, but her life was wiped out instantly. Picking up the file I had my guys compile on Irina, I looked at the photograph of the young girl with the brown hair and brown eyes and shook my head as I breathed in deeply. Irina was the opposite to my beautiful Ariana. Ariana was tall, with blond hair and striking blue eyes. Irina was short with brown hair and brown eyes. There was no way I could ever accept her as my mate.