Playboy Bloods Novels & Stories

RAYMOND’s POV… Throughout the night, I couldn’t even get any sleep because all I could think about was the fight I just had with Ariana. She was right, I needed to learn to stop being insecure. This was the third time in a week we were having a fight and it was all because of the fact that I couldn’t bear to see her with another man. Back when I was playboy, I never felt these things and it didn’t hurt me to see my partner with someone else but now that my heart beat for her alone, seeing her with someone else broke me to the core.

he protested. "Then I should never be proud of you!" I snorted. He threw up a disappointed look. He shut his mouth and looked away from me. Later on, he broke the silence. "I'm a well-known playboy and nobody likes me, but you can still be proud of me in another way. I'm a good son to my parents. I had no failing grades even though I was a playboy and always spending my fucking days with several women before. I failed some people, but I didn't fail my parents. I brought happiness to them because I'm their son," he said, defending himself against me.

She pressed the paper towel to her nose, suppressing the blood. Oh no! This bitch didn’t just say that. “Do you need help fixing your loose screws? Because I’d be happy to help. I’m sure you’ve seen just how helpful I can be,” I said sarcastically, with disdain laced in my voice. If you enter a lion’s den, you already know there’s a probability that he will draw blood. But this is different; she entered my den, hit me, and did it right inside my den. As much as I hated violence, one thing I would never do is let a girl live with the satisfaction that I feared her. Never! It was always my call to make, not the other way around, and certainly not from this stupidly brazen girl.

R18 content ahead! TW: Sexual assault// Abuse // Violence “F*ck f*ck f*ck!” “How can I not see that this bastard is stalking Leila?!” “What else did he do with her…?” It’s already midnight, a perfect way to discreetly confirm his suspicions.

“I agree. If there’s anything to breathe new life into Edge—” “We’re doing so poorly, we’ve all grown so scared; we’re all reporting from safe, scared places, afraid to push the button in case we explode. We’re already withering here. We need to write about the topics that scare us, fascinate us . . . and nobody fascinates this city more than our billionaire bachelors. Do you know who I’m talking about?” “The playboys?” Her lips twist. “The worst of them all.” She pulled out another magazine. I stared at the cover, which said Angel or Devil?

Something bloomed. He still teased. I still blushed. But now, the world called him Dr. Rathore. I just called him mine. And that was the end of our story. The end of Playboy vs LoveGuru. I am glad that I sought help from the love guru to make the playboy fall for me.

"When I show you, what do I get in return?" He sunk his fingers into my waist and pulled my body upwards to his chest. His chest is thrice my brother's own, I feel pity for my lil bro already "What you get in return" And his voice is way deeper than usual "If you show me yours, I'll show you mine too" Something inside me sparked at his words. If I show him my naughty side, he shows me his side too. I wanna get to see my playboy boss in action.

Every muscle in my body locked. "He said if you don't play poorly in the playoff game tomorrow—if you intentionally throw the series against New York so his betting syndicate can make a killing—he’s going to release the pictures to the league and claim Mila was supplying drugs to me." Silence. Cold. Heavy. Deadly. Brad wasn't trying to ruin a relationship anymore. He was trying to destroy careers. Destroy lives. Destroy Jess’s recovery. All for money. I stood slowly. Very slowly. The Glacier wasn't angry anymore.

Chapter 1: Blood Debt The warehouse smelled like rust and death. Luca Rossi stood over the body, chest rising slow and steady, the only sound in the sudden silence. Marco Vitale’s eyes stared up at the cracked ceiling, vacant now, blood pooling dark and thick beneath his head. One clean shot—center mass—then two more to be sure. Message delivered. Luca wiped his hands on a rag one of his men handed him, though the blood had already dried under his nails. He didn’t flinch. He never did.

“Copy that. We’re moving into position on the south side. Don’t be a hero, kid. You get the girl, we get the drive. That’s the deal.” Toby had made a deal with the devil. To get the resources he needed—the thermal goggles, the signal jammers, the inside information—he’d reached out to a group of “private security contractors” who were actually a team of ex-cons and mercenaries hired by a rival of Laredo’s. They didn’t care about Lisa. They wanted the drive so they could blackmail Laredo’s clients. It was a suicide mission, and Toby knew it. But he also knew that he couldn’t do this alone.