Prison Door Scarlet Letter Mga Nobela at Kwento

Book 2: Ruthless Daddy Intro: She ran from one cage... straight into another. Scarlett Martinez had one rule on her wedding day: escape at all costs. She slapped her pompous groom, told the priest "no," and ran straight into what she thought was her getaway car. Wrong car. Wrong driver and wrong man entirely. Chapter 1: Wrong Car, Right Devil:

Jessica cried out immediately. “Scarlett! Only she meets him. She is the only one who has seen him.” Rage burned through me as I released her for my grip, my mind reeling. Scarlett was locked in the harem jail, away from the human city. If I took my private jet, and… “Please give me a chance to investigate Scarlett.” Damon’s firm voice cut through my thoughts. He bowed deeply, baring his neck in submission. “I know my crimes are unforgivable. But please allow me to repent. I will investigate Scarlett and bring some good news.”

' She shook her head. As she made her way back to her room, trying to focus on anything but the man who had just walked past her, she heard whispers coming from behind one of the doors. Curiosity getting the better of her, Scarlett pushed open the door only to find two members of their mafia gang whispering intently. She quickly hid behind a nearby shelf and listened in. "Did you get it?" One asked impatiently. "Yes," replied another with an evil grin. "The boss will be very pleased."

he said again. Srek! She had only taken one step when she heard the sound of the dress she was wearing tearing. Danas looked behind her and saw that the skirt of her wedding dress was caught in a piece of junk. "Oh, Shit. I hope he won't scold me for ruining this expensive dress." "That dress is so cheap, turning it into a mop isn't worth anything to me." Danas looked towards the door; it was obvious that Melvin was carrying some objects in his hands, then threw them unceremoniously on the floor.

And that's when she takes a long whiff of the cigarette and leans her head back on the wall. Smirking. "Sources girl. Sources. Medical record of each prisoner is kept in the lockers in room G7. I just happen to have a good fuc* with the guard and sneak in." My mouth opens and closes in shock. She doesn't even know me...why will she help me? "Why....why are you helping me?" I ask to only make her exhale the smoke and look up at the ceiling. My eyes fixed at the tattoos on her fingers...which looked like Roman numbers.

The old man, Shala had been witnessing everything from afar standing in the corner of the hall. “I wish you won’t cause her any harm this time.” He said as if talking to himself and looked upstairs towards Scarlet’s room. Deciding to talk to her, Shala made his way upstairs and knocked at the closely shut door of the room. Scarlet had changed her dress to a more comfy night one that reached up to her mid-thighs and covered her upper body leaving the arms, shoulder, and some of her neck lavishly bare. Finding the old man standing in front of her door, she felt amused and let him inside asking,

Nothing seemed real anymore. “Scarlett. Open up.” Came the muffled sound and knocking. I curled tighter against the floorboards, tears streaming hot down my face, soaking into my sleeve. The pounding on the door only grew louder, more insistent, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even breathe properly past the raw sobs tearing through me. “Scarlett!” Harley’s voice broke through the haze, muffled but fierce. “Open up!” When I didn’t answer, the door burst open with a crash, slamming against the wall. Harley’s eyes darted over me, her face blanching at the sight of the crimson smeared across my fingers.

I was on the verge of giving up on his touch, but when the same words, only with some decency, came out from his mouth, my ass was dragged back into reality. He wanted to do all of that stuff with me but without loving me... He was still the same! He was the same monster I met that night! Nothing has changed here! Neither this pack nor that man. Scarlett's house came into my view, and I quickly made my way to the door. I rang the bell and knocked on the door twice as I was getting impatient and all murderous. "You know you shouldn't bang on someone's door," Scarlett's mom, Cassandra said as she opened the door.

“Yes, you will.” She turned around quickly but found no one there. Her breaths came fast and became uneven as she turned back to the door again. Her scar pulsed in rhythm with the letters on the door. She slammed both hands against it and screamed, “Leave me alone!” Then the mark began to drip slowly—a single red drop sliding down the wood until it landed at her feet. Her knees gave way as she backed away from the door, gasping for air. And then—another knock came from inside, not outside this time.