Ringleader Jacket Novels & Stories

None of them bothered to follow her. They rushed beside Lea, checking on her of any sign of breakdown that Elizabeth's words might have caused. But they couldn't find any. Lea just kept staring up at the ceiling without saying anything. " Are you alright? What did she say? " Jake asked. There was no reply. His eyes fell in the little box in her hand. "What is this? " Jake asked trying to take it from her hand. Lea sat up but before she could protest Jake opened the box. There was a beautiful ring inside with the initial 'R' engraved on it. It looked old and expensive but there was only one problem. It was a man's ring. Why was it in Lea's possession?

My parents were about to refuse but stopped when they saw the look I gave them. I took the ring—not because I was moved, but because on my last birthday, I had wished for a diamond ring from Jim. He had promised, then kept putting it off. But when I saw the initials ‘RS’ engraved inside the band, all my remaining patience vanished. "Tell Jim I don’t accept his confession." "And make sure he knows exactly who that ring was meant for." The Larsons looked like they’d seen a ghost. When they read the initials engraved inside the ring, they couldn’t bring themselves to say anything else to convince me.

The ring leader crossed the line and when he was an inch close, he gnarled at me and said; "Burn him together, with the building," he orders. His spit pours into my face, and I etch with irritation. "You want this the hard way? Fine," I stepped back with a cocky smile on my lips, and then I spread my arms flexibly. "Let's have some fun," I whispered, and, surprisingly, the ringleader glared at me, confused. The angry mobsters on his command rushed at me and I took off my hoodie, strained my shoulders, and curved my fingers in a sign that instructed them to keep coming.

The single-breasted jacket features a slender, modern cut that accentuates his trim physique. The crisp white dress shirt peeks out from beneath the suit jacket, emphasizing his refined style. The shirt is expertly tailored, with a slim fit that highlights his athletic build. It boasts a subtle herringbone pattern, adding a touch of texture and elegance. As he adorns his wrists, silver cufflinks catch the light, subtly reflecting his refined taste. Each cufflink is delicately engraved with an intricate design, showcasing his attention to even the smallest of details. The cufflinks exude an aura of sophistication, hinting at the refined nature of our protagonist.

Nestled within its velvet contour was a golden ring, polished flawlessly. I held out my hand, which was concealed with a black leather glove, and he slid the ring onto my finger. Perfect fit. I curled my fingers into a fist, studying the way the ring settled against my skin. The metal caught the light, its surface engraved with the sigil of the pack, an ancient wolf with its fangs bared out. This wasn't just any ring; it was an emblem of authority, a mantle for the Alpha of Silverstone pack. My fingers curled slowly, testing the weight of it. For a moment, the irritation eased, replaced by something colder.

The ringleader tapped on the car window. "Step out." I swung the car door open, my white wedding gown dragging along the ground. The hem was then stained. Such a shame, it was so pretty. Six guns pointed at me all at once. "Is this all of you?" I asked. "What?" The leader was caught off guard. My fingers slipped to the secret catch at my waist and yanked the gown off. I tossed back into the car. Beneath was a sleek black combat suit, snug and ready for action.

She unfolded it by letting it drop whilst holding the top part of it and I saw that it was actually a red and silver embroidered one arm jacket. "Whah?" "Your clan leader ordered this specifically for you. A long time ago." Jhan, always full of mysteries. I collected the jacket and put it on. I liked it. Leya looked at me in surprise. "Okay Leya, I gotta go help our friends okay." She nodded. "Stay here and stay safe." I had almost cracked away when I heard the adjudicator shout, "wait!" I turned around to face her. Wondering what it might be this time.

She secured the jar before turning slowly. It was Marcus. Older, thicker around the middle, but with the same cruel light in his eyes. The ringleader from the courtyard. The one who had held the knife. He leaned against a post, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. The scent of him—unwashed fur and aggression—was a direct pipeline to the past. A few of his cronies stood behind him, their expressions a mixture of unease and bravado.

Scott put on her usual insincere smile and said, "Go on." "I want to leave Tristan." Tristan, who happened to appear at the door right then, froze. The ring he was holding dropped out of his hand and rolled over to the bed. Staring at me in sheer disbelief, he stammered, "C-Claudia? You want to leave me?" He picked up the ring before kneeling by the bed, saying, "I've gotten the ring back. Please don't be mad at me anymore, okay? I was wrong for what I did. I was blind to believe that bitch! Don't leave me, please?"

said the Leader. “But… how didn’t anyone find you?” asked Prestige. “As doors were locked, no one thought anyone would be hiding inside. They all thought I left through the roof,” explained the Leader. “Thank God! What if someone would have recognised you?” asked Prestige. “I would have hidden among the police. I have a uniform with me,” the Leader reached inside the closet and brought out a uniform. “You think of everything!” Prestige was excited. “What did you find?” asked the Leader.