Novel & Cerita Joe Pace Precious Is The Blood

After catching my supposedly frigid wife, Emmy Winslow, aroused by our household robot butler, I swallowed my disgust and sent the machine to a destruction facility. I never expected that decision to cost her life. On the way to chase after the robot, Emmy was involved in a horrific car accident and died at the scene. From that day on, I became notorious in our social circle as the jealous husband who drove his wife to her death. Five years passed. Night after night, I tortured myself by wondering if she would still be alive had I not been so petty over a machine. Until today, while discussing business at a private club, I passed a half-open VIP suite and heard one of Emmy's closest frie

Ple-ase save me," Precious begged tiredly. She couldn't feel the pains, the numbness of her body and the position she was in because she was under shocks. Under fear. Her mind was in total chaos; mainly, panic and shock. And suddenly, it began to rain, the pitty patter sounds of the rain didn't help matters. Rain droplets continued to batter everything it came in contact with washing away the small pool of blood gushing out of Precious head. The dark, cloudy sky was gloomy just like Precious. Objects clattered vigorously with the howling wind. Monica didn't know what to do so she looked around, hoping she was not seen just as she made forward to leave Precious cut her leg chain.

In my last life, I single-handedly wiped out a rival gang, winning great honor for the Family. My mother handed me control of her private arsenal, worth hundreds of millions. Before I could even take inventory, the convent orphan my family had adopted quietly changed the codes, and handed the entire shipment to homeless men in slums controlled by our enemies. Staring down my gun, she crossed herself, her face full of pity. "God tells us to love the world, Alessia. Sitting on all those instruments of murder is a sin. I am only atoning for you." I scoffed, but one second before I pulled the trigger, my childhood friend, the Family's top killer, shot the gun from my hand and denounced me as blo

“Precious has signed the divorce papers. It is finished.” Her reaction was not the dramatic gasp or tearful joy one might expect. Her pencil stilled. She looked down at the sketches, then back up at me, a slow, profound relief smoothing the faint worry lines from her brow. It was the look of a prisoner hearing the cell door clang open for the last time. “There are no more obstacles, Jennifer,” I stated, the words a vow. “No past. Only the future.” I assured her. But again, I have this uneasy instinct. My usually ordered, peaceful mind tightened as I stood before the window. The image of Precious’s furious, humiliated face during our last call intruded. Her threats had been empty, her power n

My arms ached with every push of the handle. BANG. A gunshot. I froze. The mop slipped from my hands. Footsteps upstairs. Voices. Then—nothing. My legs wouldn’t move. I hid behind a metal shelf, heart pounding so loud I could barely hear the bass from the club above. Then I heard it. A groan. Faint. Pained. I peeked around the shelf. Down the hall, by a stack of crates, a man was lying on the ground. His shirt was soaked in blood.

He informs me and I’m not sure if I should be excited or scared. Jace grips my jaw firmly, making me look at him, “You are our whore, and nobody else’s; remember that Precious. This body is ours to use and abuse, and guess what? You’re going to love every fucking thing that we do to it, won’t you, because that’s what whores like, isn’t it?”

“Hop up. You can pass me the big tin over there and help me put marshmallows in. Did you remember to wash your hands?” She nodded vigorously. “Good girl.” She smiled down at her and winked. “Uncle Keshaun won’t even notice if you ate a marshmallow or two.” The girl giggled loudly and stuffed several marshmallows into her mouth. “What is your name, love?” Famke asked her. “My name is Precious. I am five. My mommy and daddy died three months ago before my birthday. My Uncle Royal takes care of me now.”

she slowly smirks ___________ a loud scream comes from the kitchen John rushes over to see Debbie screaming and Precious hands covered with blood "What is going on here?" he sees how shaky Debbie's hands were as she cleans the blood off the Precious hand with a white towel. He walks toward Debbie "Darling, speak to me, you're scaring me" Debbie looks into his eyes with her all-red slowly dropping tears "Precious cut herself" she sobs "with the knife and kept laughing while she did it!" "I enjoy watching my blood run down my hands mum, it's fun" Precious smiles maniacally

Chester, I'll cover this for you for now. He lifted his head and turned the calculator toward me. The screen showed a number: 600. My lips were so dry and cracked that I could not get a single word out. During morning study, I was reciting vocabulary when everything suddenly went black, and I collapsed. Right before I lost consciousness, my last thought was that my perfect attendance bonus for the month was gone. Yeah. To keep me motivated, my dad had made a rule. No being late, no leaving early for an entire month, and I would get 50 bucks.

Kael's jaw tightened for the briefest moment, surprise flashed across his face then it vanished,hidden beneath cold authority. "Which are you, little hunter?" he asked quietly,his voice sending an unwanted shiver down my spine. He took another step forward,snow crunched beneath his boots. "Bleeding..." Another step. "Or dead?" The silver knife burned against my palm, pain grounded me,pain reminded me why I had come. I wasn't here because of strange feelings,or mysterious aches,or impossible instincts. I was here because of blood, my brother's blood. I lifted my chin,met the gaze of the most feared Alpha in the North,and refused to back down "Neither."