Mister Untouchable Mga Nobela at Kwento

I rubbed my eyes & got up to see what happened. Alexander was on the phone, being loud as he was talking to someone rudely, his back was facing me and he was shirtless. I cleared my throat and he turned his head to see me then continued to talk, but this time he was quiet & not loud like before. I stood there, contemplating what to do while he talked on the phone. He ended the call after 5 minutes and then swiped right & left on the touchscreen, not even acknowledging me again. I resigned & walked to him. “Alexander..” I said softly, reaching my hand out to touch him.

Just Chris Lee, twenty-five years old, standing in the bathroom of a Mafia Lord's estate trying to locate the part of himself that was still functional. It was there. Smaller than usual. Further back than I was used to finding it. But there. You're still here, I told it. It didn't respond but it didn't disappear either, which I decided to count as a win. The doctor was young and terrified. Not of me — of the house, of the situation, of the weight of whose instructions he was operating under. He moved through the examination with the careful efficiency of a man who understood that doing his job well was the only protection he had.

"Bring him here." A guard stepped out and the tailor who entered was not what I expected. He was small with wild gray hair that stuck out in every direction. His clothes were fine quality but eccentrically styled, with mismatched buttons and at least seven different fabrics comprising his jacket alone. He carried a worn leather satchel that clinked and rattled with every step. "My lord!" He bowed with theatrics. "It is an honor to meet the legendary Liam Blackwood. I am Cedric Threadworth, master tailor of-”

Someone who oozed menace. But the man who stepped into the room looked like someone who belonged in a tailored suit ad campaign. Late thirties, fit, dark hair slicked back, his watch probably cost more than my wedding ring. Handsome, charming… disarming. “Miss Brooks,” he greeted, voice smooth. “What brings you to me?” I kept my expression neutral, though my fingers curled into a slow, tight fist beneath the table. “I’m here to ask you about something that happened several years ago. Here. In this casino.”

He is the mafia king, the man who is untouchable. Oh shit!

“What’s in it for me?” Beau immediately groans and Archer breaks into a horrific growl. Steven looks like he’s about to have a nervous break down. Wyatt stands behind them all, shaking his head as if this is something disgraceful. I try to keep my face as neutral as possible. I lock eyes with Neil again and arch my eyebrow. He nods once then licks the front of his teeth. “I will free the Untouchables.”

Zara’s POV A man in a suit with slicked-back brown hair, who looked like he was in his 40s, came in. I squinted my eyes to take in his features very well, but I hadn’t seen him before. He walked in slowly, head bowed like a criminal being arraigned for judgment. “This is the accomplice who single-handedly worked with Zara to steal company funds.” She pointed to him, “Mr Dalton.” Madilyn continued, her voice filled with confidence in her lies.

“Someone will find me. You won’t get away with this.” Both their heads snapped to me, and then they laughed more, the sound cruel and sharp. “Aww, she speaks!” the guy by the door snorted. “Gold digger thinks she’s dangerous,” the smoker said. “How cute.” He said in a mocking high-pitched voice, wobbling his head side to side. “Ooh, I’m dating a celebrity. I’m untouchable.” My fists clenched. One of them walked up to me and squatted down near me, his eyes narrowed. “Let me guess, you thought because you and him went viral once on I*******m, you were untouchable now?”

The untouchable ones, the ones who wore suits like armor and thought their money could drown any of the dirty sin. Riccardo Maestre fit that mold perfectly. Perfect hair. Perfect teeth. Perfect family man—if you only saw him on paper. I’d seen him in boardrooms, all smiles and fake warmth, passing deals like bread at a table. And now I knew he was rotten straight to the bone. We didn’t rush. Rushing makes mistakes.

asked Dahlia to her. “Huh? I don’t know, but I heard to my family that my uncle Ronald Champ offended the mysterious young man last night, my uncle was beaten by that young man. Regarding to staff who saw the young man, he wore a superb extravagant clothes worth a hundred million dollar which is only the top greatest household can afford to wear that kind of clothes” Said Mitchell to her.