Jeff The Killer Hot Novels & Stories

Jeff continued to act as if all of this were inevitable, as if he were just a pawn in a game we couldn't fully comprehend. “You can't just take my children and get away with it,” I declared, my voice trembling with contained anger. Jeff shrugged, as if he cared little about my words. “They're not just your children, Fierce. They are part of something bigger, something that neither you nor Caleb, nor even the great Hunter can control.” “Who?” I asked, my voice vibrating with determination. “Who is behind this, Jeff?” He laughed, challenging me with his insolent gaze. “I won't break the rules of my job, Fierce. What matters is that they are valuable pieces to some interested parties.”

He looked at my physique and stated, "Yes, I'm the one who paid for your drink." "So what's your name?" I asked. "Jeffrey, Jeffrey Stenhouse is my name" he said. "Nice to meet you, Jeffrey," I said as I smiled. He just nodded and continued looking at my body. I muttered, "Such a jerk." Moreover, I'm going to seduce him because I'm on a mission and I know he's a womanizer, so it will be easy for me to kill him. After approaching him, I sat down on his lap.

For five years, I had shared a bed with my brother’s killer and my own executioner. I looked at Mike—no, Michael—and for the first time, I didn't see the billionaire tycoon. I saw the eighteen-year-old boy who had watched his world get shattered by a truck and then buried by a conspiracy. The weight of his seven-year exile, the sheer agony of watching the girl he loved be groomed by a monster while he was branded a "violent street fighter," crushed my heart.

Mindy hurried excitedly to answer it, and three dubious-looking men in shabby costumes walked through the door. The moment I saw their leader, a man with a large mole on his face, the blood in my veins went cold, and my fingernails dug deeply into my palms. It was them! In my past life, these three "exorcists" took Mindy's money and struck me to death with a so-called holy scepter drenched in dog's blood! Suppressing the murderous rage surging inside me, I lowered my head obediently and stepped aside. The fake exorcists entered the bedroom and theatrically circled Sam's bed, before a mole-faced man slapped his thigh dramatically.

But Leo knelt, cupped his face, stared into him. “You survived,” he whispered. “That’s not the same as meaning to kill someone.” Leo pulled him close. “Yes, it is.” Later… The body was burned to ashes, and the records were erased. No one would know Jacob Blake had just taken his first life. But Leo knew. And that changed everything. Back inside… Gabriel left another note. This time, in Jacob’s jacket pocket. “Killing feels good, doesn’t it? That’s how it starts. Welcome to the game.”

Chris Bradford—that's… that's Killer. Shit!

Whoever interferes with me, I will kill him and we will both go to hell. ***

Cylo shouted loudly, crossing his arms over his chest as if to protect his body. Jeff whistled as he continued to stare hungrily at Cylo. He crawled on the mattress to get closer to this hired killer. Cylo panicked even more. He was really afraid of being raped by this dominant man. The closer Jeff got, the further he moved away. He was so scared that he even closed his eyes. This was a real disaster. “Hahaha... I'm just kidding, honey,” Jeff said suddenly after he was satisfied with teasing this cute man. Cylo was instantly annoyed that the mafia boss was playing with him. “Bastard—” His words were cut off because his heart suddenly started beating fast when he saw Jeff laughing freely.

She struggled and his grip tightened. Jack's form hurried across the grounds; grounds they all called home. “Alissa? What’s teh matter?” he shouted before skidding to a halt before the pair. “What's going on?” Jack stood taller than his siblings, his proud straight back demonstrating authority as he trained to be the next Beta of the Wuffaman Pack. His chestnut hair and emerald eyes matched his siblings perfectly. “She's killed them!” Michael screamed, his eyes wild. Jack stopped dead in his tracks

She just looked at him. "You know what I am," he said from behind her. "I know." "Then don't—" He stopped. She turned around."Don't what? Don't look at you like you're human? Don't put a band-aid on your arm? Don't sit here in this shitty motel room with a man who kills people for a living and still feel safer than I've felt in years?" His jaw tightened."You don't mean that." "I don't say things I don't mean."