Pressure Game Sebastian Novels & Stories

I'm never going to make that mistake. Nevertheless, I'm not going to allow all of what Celine said to get in the way. I know she wants to get to me so I can give up, but that's not happening. It takes two to tango, and am an expert dancer. Darren hasn't admitted that's he's with Celine yet, so that means there's still hope. Watch out for me... The game just got real..... . . . Natalie's P. O. V

I am seriously regretting this game I started. There is nothing I can do tonight, so I slowly rise from the hard floor and dust myself off. I eat a light dinner and make a cup of hot tea. Next, I head upstairs to take a long bath. I begin filling the clawtooth tub with warm water and add in some of my favorite rose bath oils before lighting candles around the room. This is my sanctuary and exactly what I need right now. I lean my head back and breathe in the rose and amber from the candles as Frank Sinatra’s smooth melodic voice fills the room. I was just about to drift off to sleep when suddenly I felt a shift in the atmosphere. Power, raw angry power was headed my way. I see no point in ge

Sebastian sat up and cleaned the blood that spurted out of his mouth with the back of his hand. "If you ever laid a hand on your mother ever again, I will kill you myself." George thundered. Sebastian chuckled sarcastically and stood up. "Fuck you, George!" He sneered pushing them out of his way. He could hear Florence calling his name desperately but he didn't care. He got into his car and drove to the only place where he knew he'll find it. A dusky, dingy, dank little nightclub off the beaten path. Inside the club, it was like dancing on the Northern Lights, beneath the dry-ice smoke swirled an array of blues, acid greens, hot pinks, and gold.

The sight of him alone, made me feel safe and secure even though it was not how it was supposed to be, how could I feel secure with the one whose only intention was to hurt me? He looked at me, his eyes softening for a brief moment but then when Chris emitted a groan in pain, the prior rage crawled it's way back into and once again, all I could see was the very familiar dark eyes of Sebastian and the flames of the wrath that was capable of destroying everything in a matter of a second. "Chris Robinson," Sebastian spoke, his brows rising as if he was just acknowledging his presence, "One of the newly rising arms suppliers." He stepped closer to Chris who still haven't managed to get himself o

His posture was rigid, coiled. But his mind was sharper than it had ever been. He replayed the recording again. The brief call during the power outage. Voices. Wind. A horn in the background. Metallic echo. He closed his eyes. Visualized the coastline. South Bay. Commercial lanes. Restricted docks. His phone vibrated. Sebastian. “They reacted,” Sebastian said immediately. “How.” “There’s pressure from a private dock management group. They’re demanding the freeze be lifted.” “Which group.” Sebastian named it.

Then Sebastian walked in. He stood in the entrance, arms crossed, watching practice with those cold amber eyes. Several players noticed and the energy shifted, tension crackling through the rink. Asher skated to the boards. "This is a closed practice, Crane." "Just observing. Making sure you're ready for our game on Friday." Sebastian's gaze found me. "Your girlfriend plays. Interesting." "She's full of surprises." "I bet she is." Sebastian smiled, and it didn't reach his eyes. "You know, Kane, I've been thinking about our last conversation. About territorial agreements and pack boundaries."

the gruff voice replied over the line. "The moment their boots hit the ground, they operate exclusively under Killian Alatorre." Sebastian commanded, his voice absolute and unquestioned. "Whatever he needs. No questions asked." "Yes, Jefe." Sebastian cut the line. He set the phone face down on the desk. Reaching out, he picked up his glass of whiskey and took a slow sip. The room was quiet again. Sebastian leaned back in the heavy leather chair, his thoughts drifting back to the little rabbit who had been on his lap only minutes ago.

he called out “Your mom is as good as dead, trust me. All it took was a pill. She’s so asleep that she can’t hear anything” Sebastian screamed out from the hurt and pain. He thought about how he could fight all these, he wished he was strong enough to fight against him and he wished he could kill Grey and throw him into a grinder. Sebastian couldn’t move from the ground, he was crying as Grey removed his pants and placed him on the bed, he watched as Grey removed his own trouser bringing out the joystick he had always forced Sebastian to hold. This time, his hand was not needed. After forcing himself into the boy’s mouth, he made sure the boy kept on gagging on it, even though he was crying,

Scott exhaled deeply, about to start negotiating an offer, when a young woman walked through the door and handed Sebastian a report. "Well, this just got interesting," Sebastian grinned. "And it looks like 'some progress' is putting it mildly, Mr. Hamilton. The game is doing exceptionally well." "You already asked for the report?" Daniel said, confused. "Since I heard your names," Sebastian replied calmly. "Don't be fooled by the smile, Mr. Hamilton. I'm not stupid. A game designer showing up at my door right when his 'worst game' suddenly takes off? You're here because you want your goldmine back."

A bullet fell out. Small. Brass. Shiny. It bounced once on the hardwood floor and rolled under the couch. Damian's blood turned to ice. He looked inside the package. There was a note. Typewritten. One sentence. "Game seven. You're dead." Sebastian was beside him in an instant. His hand closed around Damian's wrist. His face was pale. "The playoffs," Sebastian said. "We're going to game seven." "If we make it." "We'll make it."