روايات وقصص ضمن Kalung Hitam Di Leher

'It’s just Marc’s power play and mind games, how he’s boasting to me that he can sacrifice pawns and knights and even queens (if Elodie can be called a queen). But Elise...‘Oh, Moon Goddess,’ he prayed. ‘One male can only handle so much when it concerns his love life, even if he happens to be the Alpha King!’ But then he remembered his mother was buried with the same necklace made of ruby rose and emerald leaves. ‘Or perhaps mother could have another one with a locket style?’ Kal remembered it was a choker-like one, and not a locket. But then, he also remembered not giving anyone jewelry, let alone a necklace.

She pretended to choke, making me laugh. Just then, Derby said, pointing out something I didn’t notice earlier, “Is it just me or is the Queen putting on a pretty black pendant?” She signaled with her head, so I’d turn and see for myself. “A Pendent?” I turned and looked, noticing the black stone around her neck. “You’re right. She’s wearing a pendent. First time I’m seeing that.” “Maybe I’ll get myself one. The sight of the jewelry is attractive,” Derby planned, imagining one around her.

He’s wearing a black cloak and a mask that covers half of his face, only his chiseled, clean shaven jaw visible through the shadows dancing over his profile. The buttons on his all black suit glint in the dim light coming from torches along the walls around us. I take him in, my gaze doing a thorough sweep of his outfit, and spot a serpent cast in silver, or white gold, hopefully the latter, eating its own tail. He wears it as a cufflink. He tucks his arm behind his back when he notices me looking at it. “You shouldn’t be here,” he repeats, his voice deep and full of smoke.

Chapter 13 Lanie stood with her back to him, quivering slightly with anticipation. She heard a clicking sound as he opened the box, and then nothing for a few seconds. Something cold slithered around her neck, and she gasped, looking down. A gold collar with a single emerald in the center rested around her neck. Diamonds surrounded the emerald. Reflexively, she tugged at it. “Take it off.” “Relax.” He pulled her hand away, holding it at her side. “It’s just on loan from the Harry Winston store in the hotel.” Jason caressed her wrist. “Besides, it has a theft-proof clasp. You’ll never be able to take it off yourself.”

Something tiny and metallic drops out and skitters against the wood. A chip. Smaller than my fingernail. He swears softly. I look from the chip to the coat, then the necklace. "Tracking devices." Therian's face goes blank with rage. That is somehow worse than if he shouted. "He said no claims," I murmur. Bram gives a humorless laugh. "Rich men call leashes accessories." I pick up the pendant carefully, holding it by the chain. It is cold and lovely and ugly in exactly the way Eviil is ugly, refined enough to disguise the appetite underneath.

So it's definitely not possible. The panic passed, she was finally overjoyed when she discovered that the jewelry was very valuable. A necklace, a bracelet, a pair of earrings, although made of ordinary gold, handmade, but with black gems to highlight, even more noble, delicate and floral. rate. The necklace consists of two chains joined together, studded with black gems, below hanging a heart-shaped black stone. The bracelet is also completely made of gold, black stones are delicately attached to small stars, the design is quite similar to the earrings next to it.

I asked, narrowing my eyes. "Open it." I picked it up cautiously, flipping the lid. Inside lay a delicate necklace, a thin dark gold chain with a small, flat disc pendant. "It’s beautiful," I whispered, tracing the pendant with my fingertip. "Where did it come from?" "Somewhere that doesn’t have a traditional retail address," he said smoothly. I looked up at him, deadpan. "Black market." "The man who made it doesn’t use that term, but… yes." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter. "Put it on."

Her fingers trembled as they brushed the choker again. I fastened it around her neck with slow, deliberate movements. It fit perfectly — elegant, discreet, and deadly. The thin band of leather sat snug against her throat, the silver engraving **Grey’s Velvet** catching the low light. One wrong move, one attempt to run too far from the designated safe zone, and it would deliver a controlled but painful electric shock — enough to remind her who she belonged to without causing permanent harm.

And it looks like a leash should be attached to it. The river of diamonds he gave me after I rooted out Carlo’s treachery felt like a collar because of its weight. This one doesn’t bother pretending to be anything other than a noose. The manager moves to help me try it on, but Dominik waves him away. "I’ll do it." Dominik takes the choker and settles it around my neck while I lift my hair out of the way. It fits perfectly, as if it was made for my measurements. The weight of it is shocking. It presses against my collarbone, against my windpipe.

But this time he only stood there for a moment, watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “What?” I asked, folding my arms because the silence was doing too much to my pulse. He moved then, but not toward me. His hand reached beneath his shirt, and when he pulled it back, a leather cord slid over his head. Something silver swung from it, catching the low light from the lamp beside his bed. A ring. Not new. Not polished. It was old silver, heavy-looking, weathered dark in the grooves, with the Black Daggers crest worked into the face. It didn’t look like something bought for decoration. It looked carried. Worn. Kept close.