Rdr2 Hosea Crime Novel Novels & Stories

"Well, then…" Emma watched as he emptied the wine glass perched on the railing. Before she could even register what was happening, he closed the gap between them once again. His hand wrapped firmly around her neck as his lips claimed hers in a fervent kiss, a passionate exchange that left no room for restraint. This time, he artfully tilted his head, guiding a cascade of velvety wine from his mouth to hers. Her hazel eyes widened with surprise as the warm, velvety wine filled her mouth—a few audacious droplets even embarked on a seductive journey down her neck, disappearing into the folds of her dress.

I felt a cool breeze just then and turned toward the patio door. It was open just a crack, which was odd. I pointed to the door and we headed for it. I pushed the door open and we started looking around. There was a mug on the table, half full of tea but it was cold. What I found next made my heart squeeze, there on the ground was another mug shattered in to pieces. “Mercer.” He was next to me in an instant, “Rainn, please tell me someone didn’t get through our defenses and take them.” “How did they get them without a struggle. They would not have gone down without a fight.” We started searching the area in a circle around where the mug was smashed. “Rainn here.” I went over to where he was

The security office fell into a stunned silence. Noah remained motionless, his eyes fixed on the first page of the leather-bound journal. My name is Adrian Voss, and if Noah Volkov is reading this, then I have already been dead for ten years. He read the sentence again. Then a third time. Every instinct told him the words were impossible, yet the handwriting matched the damaged journal from Black Ridge perfectly. Daniel was the first to speak. “Who is Adrian Voss?”

Winter was biting harder. The grey sky hung low, as if pressing down on the entire city. Snow fell slowly but incessantly, transforming Elysian—and the whole of the outside world—into a cold, silent, and beautiful expanse of white that was somehow threatening. But behind that frozen landscape, the dark battle was heating up. Clarisse was shot at the Holt network casino. Adrian shifts the blame to Vendrake. The police begin to smell Holt’s drug network. And—further in the distance—Evelyn Moreau and Reo finally find the most important crack.

and left. Rhys hadn’t moved from the pillar. Fifty feet of empty basement between us. He was looking at the book in my hands. Looking at me. Probably processing the reality that the wreckage was public now. That strangers would read about his cruelty and his crash and his father’s secret and the hospital chair and the kitchen floor. But he wasn’t hiding from it. He was standing in the light of it. I walked toward him. Boots on concrete. The book against my ribs. His eyes on my face the entire way.

He whispered, “We take out the wolves first. Rhodes is mine.” Emily nodded, jaw tight. On Mason’s count, they burst into the room. Gunfire shattered the silence, echoing off the walls. The first wolf fell instantly; the second lunged, taking a bullet midair before it slammed into the cage bars. Evelyn flinched but didn’t scream. The third charged Emily, knocking her off her feet, but Mason was there two rounds through the spine, the beast collapsing in a heap. Rhodes didn’t run. She simply smiled, lowering her clipboard. “Detective Hale,” she said smoothly. “Right on time.”

“Other half call you a phoenix.” “Either way, I’m headlines,” Livia replied. “Headlines fade,” Alessandro said. She looked at him. “Then we make tomorrow louder.” Evening. The fire finally dying at the docks. Police drones drifted over the water, photographing ruin. On the far side of town, a black SUV slid into an underground garage. Russo stepped out, coat collar up. A man waited in the shadows—a priest without a collar, silver hair, eyes like flint.

The Castellano safe house was a battered sanctuary, its dockside bunker trembling under the city’s smoldering scars. Kai Castellano stood by a cracked monitor, his black tactical vest unbuckled, his icy blue eyes dissecting Rosa’s latest hack—a trace on the mole who leaked their fake summit plan to Dante Rossi’s Syndicate of Ash. The city’s docks, clubs, and safe houses burned from the Syndicate’s assault, and the mole’s betrayal was a blade at their throats. Kai’s jaw tightened, Gianna’s saving of Marsh, their united front, a fire that fueled his resolve.

"Birds of the same feather flocked together. That man has secrets. I will dig deeper and give the information to the club." The two men were almost done with desserts. They were talking in low tones but the audio on Beau's one-of-a-kind computer could pick out their words. They were referring to women as horses. "Asshole!" Dinara muttered. The former mafia leader needed money from the earl and as payment, he was selling one of his women. "I'm going to drain that motherfucker's bank account." The tzarina vowed. They shook hands on their deal then parted ways. Outside the restaurant, on cue, Otis and Baldy approached Jaime.

It looks like the two are feeling better since, according to them, they don't feel numb anymore. Tasha and I returned to the table we were occupying, and a guy wearing a gray suit walked in front of us. "Is he the one?" I asked. Tasha looked at him. She nodded. "I hoped he choked on those ice cubes." I stood up from my seat and followed the man, who was holding two mojito glasses. He approached a woman. I immediately recognized that it was the woman with red hair from earlier in the comfort room. I followed and went up to them right away.