Kass Morgan The 100 Novels & Stories

"I think I will give my strength to you. You know, I'm too lazy to fight for the leadership seat." "Don't be crazy, Morgan! You—" Before Cia finished speaking, Morgan immediately covered her lips with his. The taste of Cia's lips is like a lake of honey which gives her an addictive taste. ***

I relaxed my face a little, I wouldn’t want to jump to conclusions and have Derek think we had some beef going on. “Are you sure?” Caleb asked Morgan and Morgan just nodded. “I don’t have a partner, and you also can’t kill me,” Morgan declared, “I have the second half of the moonstone,” he added and the whole crowd gasped, while Caleb’s eyes grew wide, and I also didn’t miss the angry look that crept on Derek’s face immediately Morgan made the announcements, in fact, he looked so pissed at Morgan he could pounce and rip him off right there if no one wasn’t looking.

It had been a careless mistake in an explosion scene that killed Kai. Morgan had felt like her world was crumbling back then, but the production team used the reason that the series was airing and threatened her with a boycott, ultimately forcing her to shut her mouth. They had only allowed her to bury Kai there and then, not permitting any tombstone to be set. They had also made sure everyone in the production kept their mouth shut about it. All these years, Morgan had gone through various occasions, ups and downs, and had successfully married a rich man and had given birth to a handsome and filial son. Married rich yet having a harmonious family was a woman’s greatest joy, and Morgan manag

Name: MORGAN KEISHA WILLIAMS Age: 21 Nationality: American (born Atlanta, Georgia) Profession/Education: Junior at Columbia University, Cybersecurity major Part-time freelance IT consultant (makes more money than most professors) Side hustle: Doesn't hack illegally anymore, but the skills are there Physical Description: 5'9", athletic build (actually goes to the gym, does boxing) Dark skin, bright brown eyes, infectious energy Box braids usually in some kind of artistic style Dresses in streetwear/athleisure, designer sneakers Moves like she owns the room (because she does, mentally) Has tattoos: One on her shoulder blade (Arabic script), one behind her ear (coordinates) Personality Traits:

"I'm Aisha Taylor. And you are?" "Ocko Rudin." And just like that, Ocko became the first guy friend I made in this new chapter of my life.

Don't judge. The 'king' had lifted me up and sat me down on the water bed. I wiggled my bum and smiled lightly. The 'king' was kneeling in front of me inspecting my toe. It feels so good- the bed, of course. Duhh... I still wonder, though, why Kane and Kay called him 'king'. I mean, I'm pretty sure he isn't the king of America, 'cause we don't have a king. Smart, Kasey. Really smart. Maybe he's some kind of leader from a nerd group and they call him 'king'. And that explains the castle? Shit, no. You're right. I'm always right. Shut up, ho.

I tried to slam the door, but a reporter jammed it open. "Ms. Madison, did you have postpartum depression after giving birth?" "Have you been reading too many switched-at-birth stories?" "Why are you so obsessed with DNA tests that you're draining your savings?" The questions kept coming. I said nothing. I glanced at Wesley. A flicker of guilt crossed his eyes. But as they kept talking, his face hardened, turning more and more indignant. So he called them. After all this time, he'd hit his limit.

"If you ever speak her name again, I will personally see to it that your father’s firm loses every contract they have with the Garrison group. Do you understand me?" "You wouldn't," she breathed. "Try me," Arthur said. He turned back to the stage and raised his paddle. "Fifty thousand," he called out, bidding on a modern sculpture he hadn't even looked at. The auctioneer beamed. "Fifty thousand to Mr. Garrison! Do I hear sixty?" Arthur didn't wait for the final gavel. He turned and walked toward the exit, ignoring the confused looks from Marcus and his mother, who was standing across the room. He felt a sudden, suffocating need for air.

“Don’t worry, I will fuck that rigidity and shyness out of your tiny pussy. I look forward to see what you will turn into in bed.” With he finally undressing himself, I suddenly spot a tattoo right below his navel. It’s an Eastern script, meaning “fortune” and “fate”. It looks exactly like the one that my cohort told me about, the one that she warned me of. I freeze. “Are you OK? Are you ready to do this right now?” Kent checks with me. I inhales deeply, and then look up to him to tell him that I just changed my mind: “No, Kent. I can’t sleep with you now.”

Even in the underworld, Morgan is the Hand of the Machine. Morgan can kill with just one slash to the head of his enemy. One person died with his head separated, so the underworld knew that it was the work of Mr M, whose face was unknown. So far, none of his enemies have lived to see what Mr M looks like. *** Jessica Monroe is a 25-year-old woman working at the Paramount Hotel as a Receptionist. A quiet woman with gentle words, she is beautiful but has little style and only thinks about her work to eat tomorrow.