Remmick #sinners Mga Nobela at Kwento

MAVERICK Ryan was waiting for me when I arrived at The Haven. He sat in the booth in the farthest corner, swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand like he didn’t have a fucking care in the world. I didn’t hesitate. I stormed toward him, gripping the edge of the table hard enough to crack the wood. “Where is she?” Ryan didn't even blink. He tilted his head lazily, smirking as his eyes met mine. “You look like shit, Sinclair.”

But this was the way it had to be. Sin stood off to the side, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. She had remained quiet since the meeting, letting the pack's skepticism settle around her like dust. Whether she was truly prepared for what she was walking into, I wasn’t sure. I stepped forward as Garrick finally turned to me, his dark eyes scanning my face as if memorizing every detail. “You’ll be safe here,” he murmured, reaching for my hands. His grip was warm, calloused, familiar.

I'm telling the truth, I don't know them at all but… the one who sent them, I knew him very well. Izach nodded his head slowly but there still something in this eyes while looking at me, as if he still wanting to ask me more. I looked away feeling guilty… “What happened, where is alpha Dexion? Fuck those asshole, they don't know how to stop.” Remi wiped thr blood in his lips, he also got small cut in his left arm. Izach got injured because of me back then, and now he's fighting again. Not only that, Remi is also injured now because of me again.

Vicky flirted alluringly toward the embarrassed Rae. Vicky lifted Rae’s legs, drowned in pleasure and desires. He rubbed his proud manhood toward the entrance of her womanhood. She moaned as she could feel his hard member on her sensitive spot. “This is dangerous, please stop,” Rae gasped for air. “Think of this as an accident, we’re both tipsy and want this you know” Vicky winked at the female investigator. “Still, I would like to stop this charade at once Vicky” Rae tried to make her voice as stern as possible.

“Before anything happens… what’s your name, little thief?” Shania swallowed hard, lips parting under his thumb. “Shania,” she whispered, voice breathy. “My name is Shania.” A low, approving rumble vibrated from the chest behind her. The twin in front smiled—slow, filthy, and full of dark promise. “I’m Damian,” he said, thumb pressing just inside her lower lip for a moment, letting her taste the salt of his skin. “And this is my brother, Killian.”

I pumped my fingers in and out of myself, my hips rolling off the hard bench. "It feels so good, Father Edmund," I gasped out, panting as I kept my eyes locked on his shadow through the screen. "I’m fingering myself right in front of you. Come on, tell me I'm going to hell. Tell me I'm a sinner while you listen to me fuck myself like a dirty little whore I am." The booth rattled violently, making me jump. A loud bang echoed through the small space as he slammed his door shut, leaving the confession booth.

The feeling is nearly euphoric, as if I'm floating, nothing able to touch me, to get to me. "Look, no one said Fate has the best taste." Someone is talking from a distance, perhaps in a room next to the one I'm lying in. I would open my eyes, but I can't bring myself to, concentrating instead on the horrid taste in my mouth, and the unfamiliar lilt to the two speakers. Are they talking about me? I think I heard one of them mention Greed's mate. "So Sinful killed her?" the male voice asks. Something about that accent is strangely familiar...Am I hearing Vengeance Pack?

“The source is still out there. Merrick was a useful fracture, not the root. Rylan was a tool. Someone paid for the early dead drops and the chemical cover and the timing. That someone is still clean.” “I know.” “When I can stand, we finish it.” Lucas’s hand found her wrist—the uninjured one—and held on with what strength remained. “Until then, the claim stands. The pack sees that it stood. The rest is hunting.” Sienna covered his hand with her own. The contact was simple and unadorned. The bond settled into a lower, steadier current, still heavy with pain but no longer spiked with the immediate demand of combat.

Marco answers immediately. “I need you at a location,” Damien says, voice low, tense. “Two of Eve’s men. Killan has them. We go together. No mistakes.” “Understood,” Marco replies. Damien memorizes the address, studies escape routes, backup, timing. He touches Ivy’s shoulder lightly. She flinches, her lips pressing together, her eyes tightening at the touch. He pauses, his own chest tightening, watching her for a breath before nodding to the nurse. She steps back, understanding, leaving Damien a clear path. He whispers, almost reverently, “I’ll be back soon. Stay here. Don’t move.” Ivy blinks, her eyes wet and unsteady, and nods weakly.

She pleaded. “You were a stripper at Silver Storm, weren’t you?” She took a step back. “How do you know about it?” She asked. Instead of answering her, he looked at her straight in the eyes. “Tell me everything you know about Sergio. Right now.” On the other side of the city, Amelia returned to Liam’s apartment. It was almost 2 a.m. when she came back, but much to her surprise, Liam was still there, sitting in the living room, waiting for her.