Key Glock Wife Mga Nobela at Kwento

Waiting to see if I'm going to be angry, or threatened, or shaken, or any of the things the men in her life have probably been about the parts of her they didn't know existed. I look at her for a long moment. At the gun in her hand. At the faint outline of the knife sheath through the fabric at her other thigh. At the woman I married approximately four hours ago who has been carrying weapons in a wedding dress to her own reception and apparently also knows exactly how to use them. The three of them we caught tonight they're players, not the architect. The name she gave me, the one behind all of it, is still out there. But tonight we've peeled back another layer and that person knows it now.

Brandon's management team, the bodyguards, and that arrogant property manager were all instantly pinned to the ground, crying and wailing. Cassie watched the dark gun barrels aimed at her and finally broke down completely. She screamed at me hysterically, "Arthur! You can't do this to me! I'm your wife! I was wrong! I was really wrong! Make them let me go! Please! Don't you love me? You've sacrificed so much for me. You can't be this heartless!" However, the only response she got was the soldiers coldly pulling her arms behind her back and binding them tightly with restraints. Her precious designer dress was pulled out of shape. Her carefully styled hair hung in disheveled tangles, making he

They are a family, but she can’t be Nikolai’s wife. Nikolai gets something from his drawer and gives it to her. It was only then that she noticed that Nikolai had been wearing a gold ring on his finger. “We’re a complete family, Belle. We’re married. That means you’re still my wife.” He said, giving Belle back her wedding ring.

I grumbled, arching a brow at her--what the hell did she want? “Si, Perry,” she said with a warming smile. “Do you need help retrieving the spare key?” What in the world was this woman on about? “Excuse me?” “Did you forget your keys? it seemed you locked your wife inside by mistake and so we had to use the spare keys. I just wanted to confirm that you do not need help getting in. Your wife did say tiu have a bit of a memory issue,” Memory issues? “My wife told you that?”

the younger one muttered to his partner, as if reading the tension in the room like a weather forecast. “Why won’t we come closer to your wife?” the older officer asked, tone clipped and challenging. “Didn’t you hear the testimony from your sister-in-law? She said your wife tried to kill her. She almost died. This is—this is serious.” “My wife would never—” Louis snapped, his voice catching in the middle. “She wouldn’t. I can vouch for her.” His hand found mine. Warm. Strong. Steady. They couldn’t really believe this. They couldn’t.

He stopped when he got to us and his eyes moved to my hands linking with Aldrich's before facing the cops. “Do you know her, Mr Mark Killian?" The senior cop asked, and he replied, “Yes. She's my wife” I lowered my head immediately and Aldrich's wide eyes bore into mine as he stood up and next thing was his hands meeting with Mark's face. “Darn you for calling her your wife!" He yelled, and the cops quickly held the both of them because a scenario starts. "Enough you both!" The senior cop yelled and I urged Aldrich to sit back and stay calm.

"Is that woman your new secretary? Who is she?" I arched an eyebrow in Clifford's direction as he gazed at me. He then looked at the woman who was looking at him. "No, she's my wife, and her name is Nishane Griffles." The woman exclaimed, "What the hell?!" in awe. "You heard me right." She gave my husband a wide-eyed look. "C-Clifford, no! That's not conceivable! You want me, right? I have a reason for having left, but now that I'm back, we can make things right. N-no!"

His father was the head of the family and when word got out that his father was considering voluntarily stepping down, he set his greedy eyes on the seat. Matteo fired the first bullet at his paid killers, missing one of them by a margin. The noise of the gunshot woke his wife up. She picked up a gun from the nightstand and hurried downstairs to her bed wears. She walked quietly into the sitting room and when she locked eyes with her husband, he signaled her over. She had barely covered half of the distance between herself and her husband when a bullet caught her in the stomach.

“Still... I’d be more comfortable if I was in there with you.” “And I’ll be just fine.” She’d given him a stiff smile and patted him firmly on the shoulder a couple of times, hoping he’d get the picture. Stepping around him, she’d pressed the code into the door and waited for it to slide open. Now, she stood face to face with one of several monsters she could hold responsible for making her husband disappear. She took him in for a moment before pulling her Glock out of its holster and checking to make sure it was loaded. It was. She pulled a rusty metal chair out from under an equally dilapidated table with her foot and spun it around without using her hands, sitting down on it with her Gloc

Wendy’s grandmother said. Natalia let the woman in, only because wasting time to argue would make her lose time and Delilah had to be with someone quickly. She also knew that the woman would not go if she was asked to. That was now stubborn she was. “I am sorry. I knew about my grand daughter and your husband— I mean, ex-husband—” Natalia shook her head and gave a small smile. “Late ex-husband.” The older woman’s eyes widened. “What? How? What happened to him?”