Killers Of The King 소설 & 이야기

Turning to King Richard, he relayed a chilling message: "General Victor sends his regards." As the driver's silver handgun roared, King Richard's world spiraled into chaos. The bullets, each a harbinger of betrayal and treachery, tore through his lungs, head, neck, and whole body, until 24 bullets had been fired. Then the driver stopped. However, time seemed to rewind, bringing King Richard back to the crucial moment, 60 seconds before his untimely demise. With the foreknowledge of the impending betrayal, he swiftly canceled his call to General Victor, altering the course of events that led to his assassination.

the king rose from his seat. In a flash, he was before him. The king whose refined features were twisted with fury. “Admit your wrongdoings. Beg for mercy. Do you regret killing them?” He knew what the king was planning. He might deserve it, since his father had not been wrong about him completely. “Neither did I lie, nor did I regret killing them.” Since that moment, the name Justus disappeared altogether from the royal family of vampires and the kingdom. The king had made it erased. Murders among vampires were not uncommon because that was the only way they could die apart from ending their own existence, being an immortal race.

“W—What? What are you saying? Everyone knows she killed herself! I saw her.” “Her killer, Your Majesty, made it seem like she committed suicide. After advanced investigations, we have concluded that someone did it.” Sander widened his eyes and felt his legs weaken. “You know who killed her?” The officer nodded. “Who?!” “Your Majesty.” Jeremy sighed. “I do not think it is a good idea,” “Tell me!” The secretary nodded to the officer. “It was a Virtusian, sir.” The king raised an eyebrow, and the officer cleared his throat and approached the king.

"Yes. We will recoup and storm his territory again." While they were talking, they heard the sounds of guns here and there. Just like the Assistant Head envisaged, the enemies took them unawares. At that moment, the Kings were confused. They ran out of the parlor and discovered that the Mina Ray soldiers were all over the palace. Above all, their horses and riders were all dead. King Wilson had never had it so good. The three kings gathered themselves and it made his work simple. He killed them at once and mumbled, "Stupid dogs."

I ask, barely above a whisper. "They only had express orders not to kill you, although I'm glad he is alive. On further thought, it would be political suicide," he sighs, resting his palm against his forehead as he thinks. Had Tai and I stayed in there for much longer, there is a good chance he could have been killed, and although it's not as if I'm opposed to that, it may only complicate things. Shaking the thoughts from my head, I step back so I can get a proper look at my friend. "So you really are a King?"

Vallea sat tied to the chair her hair hung over her face. The water was thrown over her She slowly opened her eyes they cut hair. "Good afternoon Vallea it’s nice to see you are finally with us." "Who are you?" "I’m Nicolo Russo. The maffia king." Oh great a fucking ameture. "You are not the Mafia king, my brother Matteo Robustelli is." "I am and you should remember that.’ "Why am I here?" "You are here as bate, my princess."

"Yes, that dancer dared to kill the power of Mahabaleshgarh. I will make sure that she suffers the most painful death," Now I got it, whatever I said yesternight made him much madder rather than making him think something else but death. "She should be pecked alive in the box of sharp nails," the Other one said. Anger rushed into me and I wanted to kill him straight. What the hell was everyone saying? "I guess, that's perfect for that dancer, She would learn how to treat the Royal peoples," King said in his roaring and angry tone. Everyone nodded.

It was too quiet for my liking. Sol would definitely prefer it this way. That’s why my babbo wanted him to lead the family. Babbo was named the Mafia King. Sol took over when he died and now… there’s me. A woman who is leading one of the world’s biggest mafia. After making people know that the king was actually a queen, I thought for sure someone would dare come after me. Perhaps I have instilled fear too much after wiping out those scums. “What’s with that sigh, Cara?”

I flicked the hammer on the gun and barged into the kitchen. Nothing could have prepared me for what I walked in on. I was staring down seven gun barrels aimed at my head. Dread welled up in my chest and my stomach twists into knots. There were eight men squished up in my small kitchen. But only one had my heart sinking to my foot. Enzo Corretti. The King of New York. Without a doubt that is the man standing in my kitchen with a glass of water to his lips and a blank look in his green eyes. His file said he was handsome but Jesus Christ!

Nurul Islam stroked Abrar's hair and began: "Once there was a king. His son was very honest. His grandson was even more honest. One day, the uncle came and said, 'I want the throne of the kingdom. If you want to save your grandson's life, you must fight...'" The room grew dim; everyone's eyelids grew heavy. But Arian knew—he would have to stay awake through the night. Because old enemies do not sleep, and they were now running after Abrar.