Pollock Twins Novels & Stories

Grabbing his bag with unhurried grace, Paul slung it over one shoulder and started toward the door. “Let’s go,” he said, voice smooth and cool as always. Pete scrambled after him, hands still half-buttoned, heart still racing, cheeks burning hotter with every step. Because honestly… Being late for class? That wasn’t what had him shaken anymore. ---- Most people knew them as the twins. Pete and Paul. The loud one, and the quiet one.

They picked up the photographs and their eyes filled up with lust. "The product is very beautiful," One of them said. "You are all glad to hear this, this product's mind is just like a five-year-old girl. She is fragile like a glass doll" Jack said. "Well. We are impressed. Any special feature in your product?" One of them asked. "She is a virgin also she is an orphan. I took care of her till then" Jack said and all of them beamed with happiness. "She will be perfect for the mafia leader. But will she able to hand a mafia's merciless act?" One of them asked.

Always there. While we were both born and raised in the smallish town of Huntsville, Kentucky, it wasn't until after I'd graduated from high school that the Hellman twins even made a blip on my radar. My youngest brother, Nolan—known to most as Mouth because he was always talking—had begun mentioning the twins his sophomore year in high school.

“Madonna mia. Look at you. You’re huge.” Emilia swatted her arm, laughing. “It’s been a month! What did you expect?” “Twins or not, you look like you’ve swallowed a melon,” Isadora teased, but her voice was soft with awe. She rested a hand gently over Emilia’s stomach. “They’re really in there. Alive. I can’t believe it.” “They’re fighters,” Emilia whispered, her hand covering Isadora’s. “Just like us.” Their laughter dissolved into another tight hug, the kind only twins could share—the kind that stitched together every wound, every scar.

i should have seen it coming. But that doesn’t matter now.what’s important is that I managed to escape.saving myself and my puppies from the wicked pack. Now I was Rose park.single mom of twins who looked exactly like their fathers.and a waitress.An expert at fixing grease traps at midnight at yhanna’s diner.a human food cafe that’s just 4 hours from pack territory. Zael came running around the corner,five years old with black hair and wild ice-blue eyes.Damon’s eyes.my little wolf had five sugar packets in his little hand.

“With twins.” “Ah, shit,” Wolf said, slapping his forehead. “I forgot that part." “I can see why,” Nala said numbly. “I mean – there was a lot going on, right?” “Yeah.” Wolf sighed. “The twins’ father is our own MC brothers – twins themselves – and they asked to be released from the club to move to Pennsylvania and live with Briley and the babies.” “I – wait.” Nala blinked, trying to catch up. “So… so Briley was sleeping with… with twin brothers? And got pregnant? And they’re all OK with living together and raising the kids?”

Tristan Miller The fifth and sixth arrivals came together, their cloaks brushing against each other as they took their seats. Their masks were identical—twin faces red in color, one smiling, one weeping. They were known as the Twins, and they never spoke individually, only in unison, their voices blending into a single, unsettling chorus. Pasha and Pania. And then, finally, the seventh chair was filled.

She was still bragging in the chat, saying, "She's my son's free nanny. I'll let her raise him after giving birth—pretending they're twins. This way, I can focus on my career. A woman's place isn't at home; a career is what truly matters! I've invested too much in conceiving alone. Only useless women become full-time moms!" Many in the chat agreed with her, though a few questioned her claims, and she snapped right back at them. I alone sat frozen, staring at her background photo with unease prickling through me. The picture was taken in my neighborhood, and the ring on that hand around her waist was identical to my husband Scott Camden's. What terrified me more was the memory of my doctor te

“Do you, Derrick Martins, take Nora Davis to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?” “I do,” Derrick said, voice steady as stone. Sighs swept through the crowd. Cameras clicked. Lia’s grin lit up the pew like fireworks. Then the priest faced Nora. “And do you, Nora Davis, take Derrick Martins to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?” Her lips parted, the word rising like a tide. “I—”. BOOM! The chapel doors slammed open, the sound a gunshot shattering the silence. Gasps erupted. Guests lurched to their feet, phones shaking in fear in their hands

She didn't face any consequences and had never regretted an action. Being her twin sister had always been torture, people who knew I was her twin back in high school often tried to hurt me to get back to her. She had never cared though, sometimes when she finds out I'm being bullied in her stead, she joins in on the fun as she calls it. But they should be places and times where even the most ruthless villains draw the line, like betraying a man like Alexander Hawkthorne. The more I thought about all I could likely face in the hands of this man, the weaker I got.