Peter Parker Room Novels & Stories

he says and I nod. “Yeah, but I am okay,” I say, trying not to move my face again. I flinch and he nods his head. “You can’t really speak, can you? Poor lamb,” he says and I nod. Peter is getting out of the city and now I am sure he will not work. He has been lying to me. That night, he wasn’t clubbing with business people. He was with her. We arrive in an area that looks like the Bronx, with people outside the building smoking weed. Peter walks past a group of men and I give the guy money before I open the door.

AVA MAXWELL’S POV ​Monday Night. 11:00 PM. ​The safe house Helen had arranged wasn’t a cabin in the woods or a bunker. It was a grimy, basement-level apartment in Koreatown, underneath a dry cleaner that smelled of perchloroethylene and fried garlic. ​It was the last place Thomas Parker would look for the pregnant wife of a billionaire. ​I sat at a wobbly laminate table, the glare of a laptop screen illuminating my face. Across from me sat a man who looked like he hadn’t seen the sun in a decade. He was pale, thin, and wore a hoodie that read “I void warranties.”

He staggered and was about to fall to the ground. “Mr. Venzor, Peter has not been in a stable mental state lately. If you want to talk to him, then you will have to do it in the reception room where there is a thick glass window of protection.” The prisoner guard reminded kindly. “No thanks. I’ll talk to him right here. You can go now.” Darren motioned for him to leave the room. The prison guard hesitated for a moment before he walked out closing the door behind him. “Darren!” Leaning against the wall, Peter looked at Darren in fear, “What are you doing here? I have been sentenced.”

Past where his assistants worked was his office. There was a space to meet people and deal with business matters—but the real highlight was his secret room. That room meant the world to Matthew. He said it was his only spot to catch his breath in the busy, money-scented world of finance. I was the only one allowed in. It was our little secret—one of the perks of being his wife. Whenever I came to get him, I would hang out in that room until he was done with work. It had my favorite books, the art we had picked out together, and a liquor cabinet that only I had the code to.

******* Xavier was about to take a seat from his glass cup when the door to his room opened, revealing Peter. "Sir the detective from the other day is here," Peter announced as Xavier settled the glass of wine on the table unbothered. "That lady" Xavier whispered slightly pissed. "What does she want?" "I don't know" "You didn't ask her?" Xavier turned to look at Peter in disbelief. "I'm sorry sir" he muttered sincerely Xavier stood up from his seat. "Have her in" he said to Peter and he left. Xavier took one final gulp from the drink before making his way out of the room.

I stuttered at first a little before holding up my hands to show him the chains that wrapped around my hands, this is why I wanted them to be placed on me, I didn’t want the person to come in and see me sitting with the enemy, at least these make it look like I didn’t want to stay here. “I’m not leaving here without you.” Peter states reaching into his back pocket, the next moments began to play out in slow motion but at the same time, so quickly. Peter reached into his back pocket and pulls out some kind of glass ball, it was small enough to fit in his hand and held a kind of grey substance. Before anyone could blink, he took my chain in his hands pulling me closer to him whilst throwing th

“Do you ever sleep, or are you secretly a robot?” Enzo didn’t even glance up from his screen. “You should be in bed.” “Your office is scary clean. Like no human actually works here,” Peter teased, walking around. His fingers brushed a crystal glass on the shelf. It slipped…crashed…shattered into a hundred pieces on the floor. Peter froze, arms flying up to shield his face on instinct. Enzo’s chair scraped back. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” The shout came out sharper than he meant.

The men drove him in their own car to a warehouse, the area looking completely abandoned as they passed a checkpoint before heading into one of the buildings. The place dark, the only source of light coming from the evening sun from outside. They walked ahead, moving him through different rooms before taking him to one that was completely dark. The room smelled... Bad. Stunk. Of sweat, piss... And blood. A lot of blood. "Boss," The one that seemed like the leader called out. "He's here," At those words, someone let out a long sigh and then put on a lighter. Alexander Parker stood shirtless with a cigarette stick in between his lips. The flame from the lighter accentuating his figure.

Aria's POV It was Peter. He was sitting in a VIP room at some downtown bar, the entire place drowning in spinning neon lights, too bright and too loud even through a screen. The air looked thick with cigarette smoke and cheap cologne. My wolf immediately bristled, ears flattening at the chaotic energy spilling from the footage. Peter sat at the center of it all. Even with the dim lighting, I could see the flush on his cheeks. He was drowning himself in alcohol.

Five men glared across the room at the Spanish gangster playing leisurely on his cellphone as they waited for Serenity to take a shower. Lorenzo cleared his throat loudly, “What are you to Serenity?” he glared. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Peter snickered just as Serenity entered the living room of the Lombardi estate. “Hey, you’re still here.” She smiled softly when her eyes caught his dark ones and Peter’s smile mirrored hers.