Monochrome Rumors 소설 & 이야기

I asked again. Is it hard for him to speak? He's so cold. Is he a mafia? HAHAHA just kidding. I don't know why, but when a person is so private, I'm concluding that they're hiding something. Is the Villamorannas CEO a mafia? HAHAHA why am I like this? "Cause you know, there are rumors that their CEO is a mafia" I whisper, laughing a bit. You know, just to lighten up the mood? HIHI

The scene unraveling happened at the bar, and everything looked normal, as Tonya was filling in for me behind the bar, mixing drinks, as the normal patrons sat around the bar. Just when I thought everything looked normal, the bar door flew open, and a group of men walk in, all dressed in black. There was no denying that they were vamps, and by the look on their faces, I Could see they hadn’t been sent here as a friendly reminder of what the Dark Prince wanted.

Please Listen! Brian tried to say something to the nurse when he felt a strong blow over his head like someone hit him. He tried to turn around but his injuries made him trip and fall on the floor. All Brian could see was the person’s shoes. Brian recognized those shoes very well as he himself was big fan of shoes. It was 1950s Monk Black Vintage shoes. Brian’s consciousness again gave in and he fell unconscious.

Wait for part 2 of Charlie Please leave me a review and vote for me by leaving gems. Thank you. If you want to, you can follow me on social media under M.D. LaBelle on I*******m and F******k also I have a new group called M.D. LaBelle's Novel Aficionados.

The girl slept peacefully, but even in dreams her hands twitched, curling into fists. The First Rumblings By midday, the valley’s uneasy stillness was shattered. A deep rumble rolled in from the direction of the shattered cliffs—low, hollow, and too steady to be natural. The sky over the peaks bled into a bruised violet, lightning flickering at the edges like claws testing their reach. Rowan burst into the council chambers, chest heaving. “It’s not just a storm,” he said, voice clipped. “It’s wrong. You can taste it.”

He was the sturdiness of our family and I witnessed him crumble over and over again as they named my charges. Edith Monroe Jewel. She was eighteen years old, majoring in economics in college. Her favorite color is orange like the sunset she insisted on watching every night from her dorm. Only child to her parents and used all her money she worked at a movie theatre to buy a ten-year-old Chevy. She was the most innocent face I would ever see, the face that would haunt me for the rest of my life.

I like him a lot—his charm, his fire, the way he’d lean close, whiskey in hand and grunt “Sheila, you’re the one I trust.” Now Monroe’s turned that into a trap, a noose tightening fast. The photos burn my vision—Moretti, Ricci, Voss—blood I’ve dodged, stories I’ve softened, chasing Jeremy’s glow. The seven million’s not bribes, not cash drops, just years of favors, exclusives, a debt I didn’t see ‘til now. My chest heaves, a sob breaking free, and I curl tight, shaking, exhaustion crashing with terror. Sleep’s gone—Monroe’s voice loops, that snap echoing, those pictures searing my brain. Jeremy’s fighting, Mama’s still, and I’ve stood watch, but this?

she asked, her voice full of worry. I nodded, trying to act normal. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… tired.” She looked at me for a long moment, then sat on the bed beside me. “Raven, I need to tell you something. I heard a rumor, and I’m scared.” I frowned, confused. “What kind of rumor?” She lowered her voice, glancing at the door. “I think some people in Velmora know about your blood. They know it’s special. And now… now everyone might be interested.”

“He insisted it was urgent.” “They always do.” Silence lingered awkwardly before the servant spoke again. “There are rumors spreading beyond the territory now.” That finally pulled my attention toward her. “What rumors?” Her throat moved nervously. “About Magnus. The massacre. The ritual.” Of course. Of course the ritual resurfaced now. I dismissed her with a wave before the irritation fully reached my face. The second the door shut again, I exhaled sharply and gripped the balcony rail harder than intended. This was becoming dangerous.

Halfway through, I felt it again. That shift of awareness, like someone was watching. My voice almost faltered, but I held it together, pushing through the note until the very end. Silence followed. “Better,” Smith said after a moment. “Much better.” I nodded, but I wasn’t really listening. My eyes had already drifted back to the closed door where Drake had come through. It didn’t just feel like he was gone. I glanced up at the dark glass above the studio. I could sight a reflection that was not our reflection.