Mob Psycho Tome Novels & Stories

Even if I was so fucking confused at the moment, I was sure of one thing, which was my severe attraction for her. _ Thursday came by pretty slow. But now that it was here, I found myself getting nervous like a thirteen year old boy. Fremantle Michealson succeeded in turning a Mafia Lord, into a whipped pussy. That would serve a marvelously pathetic news headline. "They're here, boss. The designers." Jojo, my right hand man after Liam told me. I nodded and told him off, turning to the mirror to fix myself before mentally cursing and heading to the door. When have I ever had to dress up for a woman?

I hadn't allowed myself to fully acknowledge the physical impact his presence had on me, but it was impossible to ignore. As I peered out the front windows, I was frozen. My hands hovered over the keyboard, eyes wide as the driver’s side door opened. Roman stepped out, his powerful frame concealed beneath a sleek black suit. He was tall—well over six feet—with a muscular build that was evident even under the tailored fabric.

The sound of clicking could be heard in the background. Behind the brown mahogany desk sat a man typing furiously on the desktop. The man is Alexandro De Marco. An important and very well known businessman in the business world. The owner of De Marco incorporated. He is handsome, smart, cunning, cold, calculating and sexy as hell. He is known to be a Devil in the world, in short he is a force to reckon with. Women throw themselves at his feet and wish to be by his side and men want to be him. But he's cold demeanor would make you run for the hills.

Like saying it out loud is its own kind of relief. "Don't talk," I say. I put my hands on him. The Moonblood knows what to do. I don't have to direct it or manage it or be afraid of it. It moves through me the way it has been waiting to move — not forced, not pushed, simply allowed. It finds the powder's trace in his blood the way light finds the edges of things in a dark room. Not by force. By nature. By the simple fact that where this kind of light goes, the things that hide in darkness cannot stay hidden.

People parted to let him through, murmuring his name as he approached the stake. "You can’t interfere in this, Mr. James!" the old man barked, pointing a gnarled finger at him. "I believe I can, Mr. Thompson," Mr. James replied coolly. "The woman tied to that stake is my employee. Let’s settle this like reasonable men, and untie her at once." Mr. Thompson narrowed his eyes but eventually relented. "Get her off the stake, Bruno," he ordered one of his men. "Walk with me, Mr. James."

I immediately got in the car and left there. Third Person's POV A demonic smile was etched on a man in the room as he listened to what the doctor said. "Good job, Doc. Gemina. You still have an advantage" said the man and turned off the laptop. He immediately leaned back on a sofa and took the glass of wine. Drank from it while there is still a smile on his lips. "No wonder you're a doctor. You memorized all that I said yesterday" said the man, and drank alcohol again. While remembering what it said to the doctor yesterday.

His dark eyes moved quietly across the room—the chair, the leather straps, the table of instruments, the thin line of blood along her jaw. He immediately took out a small leather pouch tied at his belt and withdrew a handful of crushed leaves. He rolled them slowly between his palms. A clean, sharp scent filled the room—wild monteverde laurel and mountain mint, plants the forest people used to clear the mind and steady the breath after shock. Tomas lifted his hand toward Bobby. “Breathe,” he said gently. Bobby leaned slightly forward and inhaled. The cool scent cut through the stale air of the shack, calming the terror in her chest. Tomas then took a small knife and cut the remaining straps

"But you can achieve a one year plan in one day." His smirk darkened. "And who the fuck are you to educate me about the mafia world?" I tilted my head, lips curving. "Then answer me this....what’s stopping you from holding a war with Mordecai?" The grin fell. For the first time, seriousness cut through his mask. "Mordecai isn’t just a normal mafia. His skill… is triple mine." "Okay?" I mocked, leaning back with a smirk, letting my tone drip arrogance. His gaze hardened. "Your little mindset won’t understand me."

Luther screamed out, rubbing his head in irritation. “We don’t have keys?” Cassius shouted nervously. “Just take fucking them…” suddenly Luther’s eyes caught the blueprint's box and he quickly rummaged through it. “Fuck yes!” He grabbed the keys and rushed to the basement. Noelle, Winnie and Cassius are waiting for them. Luther was entering the basement when a fired wooden roof fell just in front of him. He dodged and jumped back gasping for breath as his heart accelerated.