Male Lady Dimitrescu の小説・ストーリー

She says the last part while flashing me a grin. Finally. Someone that agrees with me on something. Gaining my composure, I pat my hair as I walk towards the almost motionless man. I place the sole of my heels above his eyes and dig it into eyes. He's not dead yet but he will soon so he should feel pain. Have a little taste of your medicine douchebag. “Who are you?” I ask the lady who's still kicking the man. “Me? Dimitra. Dimitra Vicenzo.” “Vicenzo?”

If this is their first impression, I can't imagine what they would think of me. "Oh, Dimka, she's beautiful!" A middle-aged woman exclaimed throwing her arms around me in a tight embrace. I was a little shocked but recovered quick enough to wrap my arms around her too. "I'm Dimitri's mother, Olena. This is my youngest daughter, Viktoria, and my oldest two, Karolina and Sonja." Before Olena had a chance to introduce the old woman, who I'm pretty sure was Dimitri's grandmother, his Babushka, the old woman stepped forward and grabbed my chin in her frail, but surprisingly strong, hand.

A rosy flush adorned her cheeks, adding a touch of youthful vibrance to her complexion. Her lips, painted with a subtle shade of lipstick, curved into an inviting smile that could light up a room. Her hair, tousled in soft brown waves, framed her face in a carefree yet alluring manner. Despite the late hour and the effects of the party, Tim's words echoed in my mind. He was right—Mary was the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid my eyes on. How had I ended up with her? It was a question I often pondered, one that still left me in disbelief at times.

Miklos reached out and tugged Darya’s ponytail, “you have a date tonight so he’s at his offices clearing everything up because tomorrow is Monday and according to him, you’re both not going to be able to walk so he’s clearing his calendar.” Darya turned to face him, her face pink, “he did not say such a thing.” Dimitra smirked, “also mentioned something about a lot of lube.” “My parents are here!” Magda shrieked as she hid her face in her palms on the table. Lois spoke up. “Dimitra showed me the website of the club you used to own. I find it fascinating. I mean morally questionable, but fascinating. It truly makes me want to study the physiological –”

I'd sent my spy to gather information about The Lord of the Rings, and I was delivered the most shocking news of my life. Camilla, the Lord of the Rings' boss, has died, and the newly appointed boss has been given to Cynthia De'Lacruz, also known as the Queen of Mafia. Everything now dawns on me the reason for her changes. It must be a hard phrase to pass through for her, I'm sure this is the time she will need me the most, now that she's passing through emotional challenges.

Hazel asked, the question already tightening in her throat. Mia hesitated. “You need to see this.” Hazel’s stomach dropped at the tone. Mia unlocked the screen and turned it toward her. A photograph filled the display, grainy, taken by someone hiding behind tinted glass. But it was clear enough. Dimitri. Standing outside a hotel entrance in Mayfair. His tie loose, his hand around the waist of a woman with long auburn hair. The woman leaned close, laughing. His mouth was near her ear.

He breathed out, and then he pressed a small, tender kiss on the bare skin of my shoulder blades, making me almost freeze in his arms. Before I could turn to meet his gaze, the huge entrance doors opened and a young woman who appeared to be in her twenties stood at the doorway. Her lips stretched into the brightest smiles. She greeted Dimitri with respect before her eyes curiously shifted to me. “It’s an honor having you join us tonight, Elena. I'm Evelina Bardoni,” She introduced. She was one of the Bardoni’s women, most probably a daughter. I shook her hand with a polite smile. “Thank you, Evelina,”

Like she wasn’t his. He was about to walk toward them when a woman deliberately brushed against Dimitry’s shoulder. She was tall, confident, and dressed to draw attention. "Well, hello," she purred. "Care to dance?" Dimitry raised both hands in mock surrender, a grin tugging at his lips. "Taken, lady," he replied easily, his gaze flickering toward Leila and Vera—both of whom were watching with mild amusement. Unbothered, the woman turned her attention to Roman. His stance alone radiated danger. That amused her more.

Dimitri shrugged, assuming she was joking. "Why is there so much traffic today?" Ramona muttered, hitting her steering wheel. "She's hot." Dimitri answered. "Must be because of her." Ramona's eyes turned to the woman Dimitri pointed at. She was wearing a red knee length bodycon dress and her dirty blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders and stopped just above her butt. Ramona glanced in front of her and realised Dimitri was right; all the men each in their individual cars were staring at the woman.

Offering a military salute by crossing their hands over their chest they stood facing her. Jelena Savage was not as old as one would expect from the leader of an entire race. She was only 17, even younger than Axel by a whole two years! Her hair was braided just above both her ears, her eyes watched coldly like a hawk and inside them, one could sense ruthlessness emanating from her whole being. Her voice was a bat match for her personality, she sounded nothing like who she was. This was a strong woman, who ruled with fear and an iron fist.