Rude Ralph Novels & Stories

Rylan said, turning his gaze to me. I stood and brushed the dirt off my clothes. “Don’t think for a second you’ve won. I’m not that easy to get rid of,” I snapped, meeting his surprised expression as he stepped closer. “Oh, it’s you,” he smirked, crossing his arms and leaning against a car. “Didn’t think a bob hairstyle could change you that much.” “Scumbag!” I threw a punch at his face, but he ducked, and my fist slammed into the car hood instead.

"Do you wish to join his group of comfort women here? And this is why you're aiming to seduce him, correct?" "Zack, what are you talking about—" I turned to look at him but he held my shoulders tighter enough to keep me still. "Put an end to your efforts, I warn you. In the end, all you'll be able to do is swoon and cry over him because Rylan is a playboy who enjoys playing with hearts before breaking them." His language makes me angry, especially when he uses it to describe his own brother. In my view, Ryle is not at all like that.

His voice dripped with restrained anger and sarcasm. The King picked up his teacup, cleared his throat in irritation, and said, “Your input is always welcome, Karl. If you have something to say, speak. I didn’t raise my children to be meek.” Karl scoffed under his breath. “You didn’t raise us at all.” “What did you just say?” the King asked, rising to his feet, clearly expecting his son to back down. But Karl wasn’t one to back down from a fight—especially not today. He stood as well, arms folded across his chest. The pain from his earlier injury was throbbing, but his fury kept him upright.

Whatever is in that cup, it doesn't seem to faze him. I grind my teeth together to keep myself calm. "That's what this deal is all about. If it can really be classified as one." Rylan's eyes narrow. He's an Alpha who knows what he wants, and it will take a lot to sway him. There is no way he is going to agree to the idea I came up with when I first woke up. We are both as stubborn as each other, so I can assume there will be a lot of arguing in our future.

Somewhere near the bar, a man lowered his voice to ask whether anyone actually knew what Oliver Reed really did for a living, beyond whatever legitimate business he claimed on paper. Grace's expression shifted first, her composed smile faltering into something colder, more calculating, her eyes narrowing slightly as she watched Oliver cross the room. Lucas's reaction came a beat later, his easy charm slipping for just a moment, genuine shock flickering behind his eyes before he smoothed it back into place, though not quickly enough to hide it entirely from anyone watching closely. "The mafia," Lucas murmured, low enough that only Grace beside him seemed to catch it, disbelief coloring his vo

He knew for sure. “Do what I say, follow her quietly, there should be no doubt.” OK, he hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair, smiling. “Oh dear, what have you done?” Grass was a big name in the mafia world. He was a tyrant who enjoyed killing. He liked to play with girls' bodies. Every night a new girl was in his bed. He punished his enemies dangerously.

Rico and Antonio made their way into his study room. "Boss... Adalberto called and said his daughter will be visiting you tomorrow." Rico informed. Adalberto Russo was the former boss, before Xavier had taken over the entire mafia. The title was not given to him easily. He started working for Adalberto at the age of 21. And at 28, he had lost count the amount of lives he had taken. His hands were tainted with blood.

No one seemed to have noticed as they didn't seem to care. The door from the other side of the car flung open. All eyes whipped towards there, eyes wide open as we waited with hitched breath for what was to come. Ralph. He stepped out of the car with dramatic flair and his signature smirk plastered on his face. “Hello people,” he smirked and murmurs erupted from the crowd before they cheered. I smiled , he was indeed hard to kill but I knew they must have gone through a lot.

" Ralph smacked himself on the mouth. He felt like his brain had just walked out on him. How could he be this stupid? He forced a laugh. "My bad, Mr. Johansen. I was being an idiot." But he couldn't help thinking how devious Elliott was. When had Elliott ever pulled a stunt like using something as simple as skipping dinner to win sympathy? Ralph nearly dropped his jaw. This was the famous man of Dirkane! How could he not be shocked? Elliott gave him a look of disgust. "Your brain's run out of credit. Just drive me back. I'm starving, and my stomach hurts."

The thought made him chuckle mid-kiss. She pulled back, blinking at him, confused. Ralph held his stomach, trying to control his laughter because of the hard glare from Silva, looking betrayed. “What’s funny?” she demanded. “I’m sorry, princess,” he said, trying to stifle his laughter. “I just can’t believe how tempting you look, even in distress. And this shirt”—he tugged at it—“it’s doing you no justice. That makes two things I need to arrest: that bastard and this damn shirt,” Ralph promised and his voice changed into something dangerous when he said the last part.