Mother 3 Masked Man Novels & Stories

I'd thought about Nyx all week, the way she made me forget I was Nicholas Bodeen for exactly three minutes and twenty-seven seconds. "Mr. Bodeen," Dominic greeted me at the entrance with that practiced smile. "Welcome back, should I assume you're requesting Nyx again?" "Yes." "Of course. VIP Room Three is ready for you." I followed him down the familiar hallway, my pulse already picking up. This was ridiculous. I'd dated models, actresses, women who made careers out of being beautiful, but none of them had stayed in my head like this masked stranger I'd met for less than five minutes.

A woman stepped out of the darkness. I raised my gun. Valentina froze. The woman looked at her. Then smiled. “Hello, sweetheart.” Valentina’s eyes widened. “Mom?” The woman nodded. But before Valentina could move, Anthony grabbed her arm. “No.” “Dad?” “That’s not your mother.” The woman’s smile disappeared. Anthony pointed his gun at her. “Take off the mask.” The woman didn’t move. Then slowly… she reached up. And pulled at the skin along her cheek.

Wham! The masked woman slapped the man. At once, his cloth mask was knocked off. If Alex Rockefeller was here, he would have recognized this man who was none other than Frank Accardo’s son, Heath Accardo! “Bastard, your head is filled with garbage!” The masked woman was an envoy from Gokudo Soshiki. Her real name was Maiko Chiba.

"I know that you were lying back there at the study. You'd never throw yourself at any man so cheaply," I nodded reluctantly in affirmation and then she headed to the bathroom and brought back a first aid kit with her. With every second that passed by, my fear closed in on me. I thought that I still had some time, but remembering that I'd be moving with the masked man; I hated calling him my husband, made me want to vanish into thin air. Mama cleaned the dried blood and pasted a band-aid closed to my lips, then she began to search through my wardrobe. I sat tiredly, watching her rummage through my boxes until she found a short white dress that I could wear for our marriage.

Too fucking real. I throw the covers aside and jump out of bed. My legs feel weak. I look around. Nothing is out of place. I storm toward the door and pull at the handle. It’s locked from the inside. So how the hell did Mask get inside? And how did he leave? The door handle rattles. The sound crashes through the room, making me jolt. “Fuck,” I cuss. The rattling doesn't stop. “Elena. Why the hell is this door locked?” My mother raves. “Open up!”

“This is exactly what you said last time and yet look. Why should I believe you? Give me a reason not to kill you.” “Please I'm be—gging you— You can take anything of value that you want, and you can keep it till I have the money to pay up.” My father says to him while looking suggestively at me. The masked man follows his line of sight and when his eyes land on me, he leers at me in a very disgusting manner. “This….. is the thing of value you were talking about?” The man asks while smiling widely already sure of my dad's answer. I shake my head vigorously as the masked man stalks towards me. While the other two men were doing an excellent job in pinning me down, they doubled their efforts w

She warned him. The other masked man sent a signal to the other three and spoke up, "Then how about you guess which one of us is Dillon here?”

Well, I couldn't still tell if he smiled or not because of the mask, but I could see the intensity of his eyes, the darkness that filled his eyes and how it showed off in the way he lowered his eyebrows and his eyes. Just then, other men came in, standing by the door, while this mask man ran towards my father. Within seconds I had seen my father on the ground, groaning as the masked man held my father's hand tightly as though he wanted to break the bones. The blade my father had used had fallen to the ground, and my eyes were still glued to it. My mother was screaming, and same was my sister, but their sounds didn't penetrate my ears as I was already lost in the thoughts of what I would do w

She replied and, like a mother, she held my hand and pulled me to the corner where a man sells vagina masks. “Need pretty masks for the party, I got the best”. The man was American, I could tell that from his accent. “Give us two”. Laura said. The man selected two masks from the pile of masks on his table. “Have this”. He handed the masks to Laura. “Three cents”. Laura took the masks from him and dropped a dollar bill on the man’s desk. “Here is three cents and a tip”. She turned to me and handed one of the masks to me. “Have your mask, Betty”.

My determination doubles as I zoom for the rest of the masked men. Three against Reagan is tough. But I trust him with my life. And knowing that he’s holding the line for me, fuels me further. I burst out of the exit, only to hear the tumbling of a pickup truck with a driver hurrying them. The rest of the masked men, three of them close in for the getaway ride. Summoning all of my power, I thunder. “DROP HER!” The three turn around, shocked that I could catch up. And that hesitation costs them everything.