Novelas y relatos de Romantic Murder Mystery

The cool midnight air greeted him with the fragrance of roses. He felt the relief instantly, his anxiety dissipating, blown away by the night breeze, leaving only the scent of roses clinging to him like a permanent lover. For a ruthless mafia like him, who’d taken countless lives in the seedy underbelly of Chicago, he couldn’t understand why he found roses to be so comforting. They were such fragile plants, their petals so delicate, like humans whom he could easily crush with his palms. Still, whatever it was, it always did the trick. The scent calmed him down and he relaxed.

I thought that seducing him would help me to grow closer to him and make him weak… So that I would be able to pounce on him and kill him in the perfect moment. My plan was ruined… And he’d already taken my soul with him in every intimate moment we’d shared. 2 SABRINA Days later The soft glow of candlelight danced across the room, casting long shadows on the walls. Viktor and I sat across from each other at the table, the air between us heavy with something unsaid. It wasn’t the usual tension that accompanied our conversations, the sharp, cold awareness that we were both dangerous, calculating beings. No, tonight felt different.

Despite my reputation for being ruthlessly efficient, I proceed with extreme caution. I need to understand every single aspect of her new life, from her closest friends to anyone who might have helped her set up this false identity. I investigate even the smallest details, searching for any possible romantic connections with other men. The mere thought of her giving herself to someone else fills me with absolute, murderous rage. If I find out she's been intimate with another man, I'll make her experience hell beyond anything she could imagine. Before I can dwell too deeply on that possibility, I decide to savor every detail of my investigation.

His tongue swept past my lips, tasting the desperate hunger that I didn’t know I had. In that moment, I knew that this kiss had just sealed my fate to this dangerous man called Sasha Romanov, the pakhan of the Russian bratva.

Everything seemed calm, as if the city itself was holding its breath, waiting for something terrible. At the police station, the atmosphere was heavy, filled with the exhaustion of piling investigations and the constant chatter of conversations. Daniel Martin, a police inspector in his thirties, was going through the files with a tired gaze. A recent investigation occupied all his thoughts—a gruesome murder in the city's upscale neighborhood. The victim, a respected and influential man, had been found in his apartment, shot multiple times in the heart. Everyone had theories about the murderer, but the truth, so far, remained out of reach. The main suspect, however, was a woman. A young woman

“Damien not glued to your side today? Odd. He tends to keep his… projects close.” Serena’s brows drew together. “What exactly are you implying?” “Oh, come now.” Camille stepped closer, her perfume cloying, her smile widening. “You don’t honestly think you’re the first, do you? Damien has a pattern. Swoops in, plays the saviour, dresses his women up like trophies, parades them around… and when he’s bored, he doesn’t just walk away. He breaks them. Quietly. Completely.” Serena’s jaw tightened, though her voice stayed steady. “Thanks for the unsolicited TED Talk on Damien Drake, but I’ll pass.”

It was probably foolish but it felt so real and I could swear I felt a sharp pain in my right calf when I woke up. Satisfied with the results of my inspections, I decided to run myself a bath. I always thought if there was anyone who would end up haunting me, it would be Ronan’s ghost, and for good reasons. He was obviously a ghost so it’s already in his itinerary and most importantly, I was the chief course of his death. I was half prepared for him and who did I get? Dante fucking Moretti. I had not set my eyes on him in weeks and he still managed to invade my dreams.

"Look at her—look at what she's become. And you still love her? Tonight, I'll stay with you. I can do what she did, but better. I'm the one who's meant to be Mrs. Palmer!" But when Felix heard that, the murderous intent in his eyes intensified. His pupils were bloodshot, like a beast on the verge of devouring its prey. While Darcy looked at him expectantly, he called to the security team, "Lock them up. I'll settle their little score when Felicity's better." The three lackeys stared in shock, realizing they'd become accomplices to a mistress, and now they were going down with her. They began to argue, throwing blame at each other, a chaos of desperate accusations.