Novel & Cerita Logan Mr Sinister

“I am so generous to have accepted you back even after being disfigured.” Disfigured? “You were so pathetic before Logan. You're one proud capo who can't face his made man who punched you right in the face,” I fired back, unable to bear the well-articulated insult. Logan was one made man Lorenzo couldn't contend with despite his ruthlessness. He was only soft on the outside and bony on the inside. “How dare you speak to me that way?” “And how dare you call me disfigured and a slut? Do you think you'll always have your way just like you used to?”

“Say one more word, and I swear, I’ll make sure you never leave this place alive.” The weight of his promise settled over the room like a heavy fog. No one laughed this time. A slow, mocking laugh cut through the silence. Harry’s gaze snapped toward the sound. Leaning back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, was Logan Whitmore—the only other heir in this prison who could match Harry’s status. Unlike Harry, Logan wasn’t a media darling. His last name carried weight, but his family had long since cut him off. A scandal too big to cover up. A crime too brutal to forgive.

I spat, not sparing his ego at all. But Logan laughed it off, like a bloody old fool. A high-pitched music had taken up the whole room, and so nobody really heard the annoying sound of Morgan’s laughter. Then he turned to Alice. “You caught yourself a beautiful slut, hm?” Morgan said, eyeing Alice lustily. Gosh, I truly wish I could punch the imbecile into a coma forever.

"All I was informed with is that he was been caught near a lifeless woman, with a knife in his hold, but he was sleeping after the doctors examined the victim, they said that they were tortured to her death, the first time he was investigated, he didn't utter a word he was just staring at the detectives, the second time, he admitted all his kills smiling at us, he even explains the details of his crimes with so much enjoyment. He's a monster. The only thing we can do is to keep him under the control of the medicine" "How old is he?" "29 years old" he responded "What about his family?" "No one came to visit him. I guess he has no one " Her mind couldn't forget those piercing eyes. She couldn'

Mr. Malcolm was shaking all over being in the room all alone with that monster who could kill him at any given time. He tried to call his security when Logan jumped on the table right infront of him to stop him. "If I were you I would not do that, you might not live to see your saviour,’ Logan warned with his fangs elongated dangerously as he moved his face close to the president. M.r Malcolm closed his eyes knowing that he might have already met his death, he waited for the attack but it never came. Opening his eyes Logan was seated on the other end of the long oval table wiping off the blood from his mouth.

Dmitri spat out blood in my direction, an act of disrespect. I stood up from the chair and walked closer to him, raising his chin so he could take a look at me. "Unlike your miserable father, I am the biggest Mafia Lord in the entire city. Every single one of my enemies fears me, and they all have the right to do so. I am showing you mercy by exchanging your freedom for that of your sister, you should be thankful." I let go afterward, and with one last look at him, I walked out of the room.

Logan, my boss and the leader of our mafia family, was handling some important clients, and I knew better than to interrupt or draw attention to myself. Despite my efforts to tune them out, the clients' conversation was hard to ignore. They were discussing something inappropriate, and I couldn't help but eavesdrop inadvertently. One of the clients, with a lecherous gaze, remarked, "Mancini, your secretary is really hot. Why don't you send her to us for a night?" I felt a shiver of discomfort as his eyes seemed to linger on me. Logan, who had been maintaining a composed demeanor until now, responded with clenched teeth, "Enough. I won't tolerate this kind of conversation about my employees. S

It might as well have been a bomb going off. Gracie’s mouth drops. Ivan stiffens visibly. Adrian grips the table like he’s holding himself back. Lucian rises slowly. “Let me make one thing clear,” he says, voice low, deadly calm. “I’m not going anywhere. Not again.” Nobody moves. Nobody breathes. Gracie lets out a soft, stunned, “Oh damn.” Adrian rubs a hand down his face like he’s seconds away from summoning divine intervention. Ivan steadies the knife in his hand with a sharp clink against the plate.

The noise reverberates. I think that's somebody calling my name behind my back. I turn. No one's there. Only the faint trace of one's own breathing misting the mirror in the corner. "Who's there?" There was no reply, only the heavy silence of walls that have listened to too many secrets. I swallowed hard, turning again to the body, but caught sight of something else—a piece of paper peeking out from under the man's hand. My gloves spread it slightly red when I pull it out. Lettering was neat, bordering on elegance.

I can't prove it, but I know that she definitely recognizes Marlon and I too. She fucking saw us... "Fuck..." I murmur quietly as I drop my head against the table. "Luther, son, are you okay?" Mister Gustave suspends his talk with the lawyer to ask me. "Yes, Mister Gustave, I'm sorry, I'm just tired," I lie. Does Marlon recognize her? Does he know that we are about to be exposed in front of his father? "Look, it's been a very long couple of days for us, and so since Mister Gustave is also a trained attorney, let's just jump right in, and skip the theatrics. Mrs Wallin, you understand everything I explained to you?"