Pulp Fiction Novels & Stories

Drex spat out in great annoyance. He wonders where and whose men are these? From the way they fought he could tell that they were mafia ninjas, foreign warriors maybe. He hoped they had not touched as much as a single strand of Ava's hair else... As he think about this, he raised his left leg and threw the gun under it with his right hand. He caught it with his left hand and fired five shots straight into the man's rib area. More men appeared this time in twos and threes, jumping effortlessly, flying over car roofs in a ninja-like manner.

TORREN POV The ghost mask feels like a second skin, the internal voice modulator humming as I scale the fence of the Michigan estate. I’m not using chloroform tonight; it’s too slow, too cinematic. I have a tactical sedative patch in my bag- one touch to the neck and he’s out in three seconds.

Cleo’s POV The Paris morning was calm, a soft light spilling into the room, bathing everything in a warm glow that felt almost surreal after the stormy night. I stood at the window, trying to gather my thoughts, but they kept drifting back to Russo and the unexpected vulnerability I had seen in him. Last night, I’d seen a side of him that he kept hidden from the world, a side that reminded me he wasn’t just the ruthless mafia boss who had trapped me in this twisted marriage. He was also a man haunted by his past, much like me.

Pragati POV . . . I turned my face in the other direction, and my eyes landed on the home theater where I saw that the lady was watching the man in pain, and then out of nowhere she took out a gun and placed it on his head. I felt the same had happened before. I felt this scene the same as my dream. She immediately pulled the trigger and shot that man in his head. I couldn’t breathe, and in no time darkness consumed me. . .

He was the father of eight children with different girls, and only two were legally recognized. Pablo Altamirano, was the kind of man that nobody would think of confronting, he killed people without basilar. He was short in stature, similar in size and appearance to the penguin character from the Batman movie. He was constantly scowling, a man totally serious and without a shred of humanity for others, nor patience, nor honesty. However he was very intelligent and had many gifts for criminal organization, he was not too nice a man for the dark cartel, but he had power, so they had no choice but to accept him.

And there was no more hiding. Still, he held me in place and drilled into me until I spilled onto his hands with an excruciating cry. My vision was blurred from the orgasm, my hands were clawed onto his jacket. The floor was wet with my juices. It was embarrassing. I hated that I was like this… that he could reduce me to this, so I buried my face into the crook of his neck and pounded my fist against his chest.

♪♪ New Rules • Dua Lipa ✿✿✿ LILAH "Everything can't be solved with violence. Violence is not an answer. Let us go, pookie." Well, that sounds so stupid of me. I let out a desperate sigh and glare at the guard who's standing as rigid as a concrete pillar, eyes fixed on the wall with all the interest of a bored teenager, not caring to bulge or acknowledge the two miserable women in front of his feet, bleeding, wailing their hearts out and throwing almost all the curses exist in the world over him.

”If you want I can give you five more minutes to come up with a good lie,” He said and I figured I could just tell him. ”I’m having breakfast and then I thought I’d head out in town and look around a bit,” ”Sounds good,” ”How about you?” I asked him. ”Just meetings, same old,” I was about to answer him when what sounded like a gunshot went off on the other line. ”Fuck,” Ashton groaned in the back. ”What was that?!” I asked him. ”Nothing, it was just a car that hit a curb,” He sounded truthful and Pazzi wasn't in the mafia plus Ashton was the boss of the company now, so he wasn't involved with the mob either.

one of the thugs sneered. "Leave her alone, and I am still going to f*cking hurt you." My eyes went wide at Peter's dark, threatening tone. I had known Peter for an entire year, and this was the very first time I had ever heard such raw, lethal danger in his voice. The men lunged at him all at once. To my absolute shock, Peter fought them off with ruthless efficiency, throwing brutal punches and dodging blows like he was incredibly used to street fights. Right now, he didn't look like a gentle doctor; he looked exactly like a man who worked directly for a Mafia family.

But enough that by the time Ivan came to find me at six I was past page ninety and somewhere in a chapter about the Prohibition era shift in how organised crime moved money. He leaned in the doorway. "You look better." "I am the same as I was this morning." "You look less like someone who slept badly." "I still slept badly." I put the book down. "I just stopped thinking about it." He smiled at that. "The film helped." "I did not say that." "You did not have to." He pushed off the frame. "There is food if you want it." I followed him out and we walked downstairs and I thought about the fact that I had woken up that morning with nowhere to put the phone and the loneliness sitting right on the