Mercenary 소설 & 이야기

The fact that relationships were changing their work ethics was amusing to me, cliche as it was. “Shut up, you moron.” He looked over his shoulder to glare at Henry. “Doctor Merch told me she’ll let me do the surgery today if I’m on her service. There’s no way in hell I’m going to miss it and give it to this bitch.” He then glared at me. I rolled my eyes, “Doctor Merch hates me. She’d never let me cut anyone open under her supervision.” “Before all of this,” Emilia called out from beside me, “What’s up with your grumpy mood in the morning? You were acting like a volcano.”

He had a very dark expression on his face. He walked closer to me, examining my bruised face and swollen lips. No one had given me medicine and my wounds were still fresh. I forced down the lump when he quietly stepped towards me. He was not the same man I had slept with many nights. He was the boss of the mafia. He was a murderer. He was back to the same monster. His eyes were telling me everything. It was difficult to ignore the scorching hatred in his eyes toward me.

The intense urge to catch her was strong but he couldn't do that at the sacrifice of his men. "YOU MOTHERF*CKERS! GREET YOUR FATHER," Hunter snarled, charging at them. Both of his claws extended out as he slashed one of the men. Instead of tossing his body away, he ripped his insides out as blood spurts on his face but he was smiling. The looks on the faces of his enemies were magnificent. They looked terrified. Hunter's men shifted into their wolf form as they lunged at the enemies. Including Hunter, there were only four of them while the enemies were nine in number.

The fat boy commented with clear sarcasm in his voice. Everyone burst into laughter at his sarcastic comment except for the redheaded girl. “Well full disclosure, she is indeed the legendary mate-less warrior.” Everyone gasped at her statement. “That’s ridiculous! We were never told that the mate-less one existed and I can assure you that I’m a straight A student in history!” The fat boy bragged otherwise. “Yeah, how could that be?” The cute voice spoke up again and everyone did the same. They had never been told about the existence of the mate-less one, not even their parents.

Little T and Coin were sprawled out in the hallway leading to the office. Bulletholes riddled the walls, the liquor bottles behind the bar all shot to hell. Jake stepped over Nitro’s body, the anger raging in his veins. They’d been good men, all of them. Michelle had been their first lady, a woman that had always smiled and looked after all of them. He was beyond pissed off. He was ready to go to war. He pushed the office door open and clenched his fists. ‘Now we’ll take what is ours.’ It was sprawled on a piece of paper on Bandit’s desk. There were only two MC’s that wanted what the Warriors had. The Reapers and the Dogs. One of them attacked the clubhouse. Or both of them.

“Which means I will enjoy it more.” He turned away from the screens, flicking his gaze to Nico then back again, as if something itched between his shoulders. “Who else wears heels into a service hall at two in the morning?” “Someone who doesn’t think rules apply,” Nico said. “Someone who confuses courage with costume. Someone who has a deep and strong reason to attempt this in the first place. An enemy.” Nero knew he had made a lot of enemies. It never shook him when he learned of a new one. He would simply kill them and be rid of them.

Her broken jaw was completely healed now and she felt no trouble with it. Alpha Marcus was an arrogant man. He was also a pervert. It was his perverted nature that made him have his basement soundproofed. Adrienne had no doubt that the crash she had made would not be heard by the inhabitants of the floors above. Her only problem was the guards standing right outside.

"I'm going to the States in a few weeks for part of the Bravta operation—gotta blend in, you know." He grabbed a plush pillow from beside him and threw it at my face, but I caught it before it could hit me and immediately hurled it back. He ducked, laughing. "The fucking retribution," I muttered. "The fucking what?" He asked cocking his brow "The whole splash the Bravta blood thingy.” I replied. "No, I don't think you understand just how thirsty the syndicate is right now. We've lost too many men because the Bravta have been taking our people out like they're nothing, and everyone wants blood." Angelo's voice was strict and deep

Clara reached the top of the metal stairs and stopped two feet in front of the kneeling, one-armed warlord. Marcus Vance wheezed heavily, sweat and blood dripping onto the steel grating as he glared up at her with bloodshot, hateful eyes. "You... you think these mercenaries will stay loyal to a freak like you?" he spat through clenched teeth. "There are three thousand survivors in the lower quarry shafts and two hundred more soldiers locked in the barracks! The second you turn your back—"

Soon, everything would fall into place. A few minutes later, the door opened again, and the mercenary walked in. He was exactly what I expected: Tall, broad-shouldered, with a burly frame that filled the doorway. His clothes were simple, rugged, and stained with the dirt of many roads. A thick scar ran down the side of his face, disappearing into a tangle of unkempt hair. His eyes were cold and calculating, the eyes of a man who had seen and done things that would make most people shudder.