Ruthless Stranger Novels & Stories

“Number one, you broke up with your boyfriend, or number two, you caught your boyfriend cheating on you and you broke up with him. Tell me, which one is it?” Samantha looked at the stranger. He has a deep blue captivating and perfect set of eyes. The kind of eyes that can reaveal your very soul in just a glance. His nose is pointed and has lips that every girl would be dreaming to be kissed of. “Neither,” she answered and turned her attention on the glass before her. With all the boldness she is feeling right now, no thanks to all the drinks she had, she’s afraid she might actually grab him and offer herself to him.

My heart pounded at the cold and darkness of his eyes. I let go and backed away. The piece of glass that is now tainted with blood fell on the floor. "Look what you've done, Audrey! You're so slutty! You're just like your mommy-" "Shut up!" I spat angrily and turned to Rustov. "And you? Why did you interrupt? It's not my fault why you got hurt! That's your fault for taking that stupid girl's side! Why are you defending her? Your friend? Girlfriend? Because, you're both trash!"

“We have a million things to handle and somehow you think another investment is what we need?” “I need,” I corrected. “It's what I need.” Clara is what I need. A soft knock followed a moment later and I looked up to catch long toned legs walking in. Her heels clicked. One. Two. Three until she was inside. Clara fucking Mallon. My Stranger. She stood framed in the doorway looking all stunning “Who the hell is she?” Mike asked in a whisper not loud enough to ruin the moment. Mike looked at Clara and looked back at me, curiosity crippling. “Who is—”

Two heads roll across the concrete like bowling balls . The third vampire snarls and lunges . The stranger catches him midair , slams him against the wall , drives something silver straight through his . He drops like a puppet with cut strings . Silence. Except my ragged breathing and the wet drip of blood hitting concrete . The stranger turns. Tall, black hoodie , silver eyes that seem to cut straight through me . Blood splattered across his jaw like war paint . “You okay ?” His voice is low, rough , like he’s not used to speaking .

Maddie said diverting all her attention to the younger and saw that resistance and confusion in his eyes so she quickly turned to the counter and placed her hands around the strangers waist. "He is not your replacement" she said and chuckles softly while tracing the stranger’s waist and said "I’m sorry I didn't introduced him. Aiden this is Peter, my boyfriend, and Peter this is my sweetheart Aiden" The owner introduced both of them and younger released the breath which he was holding back since he entered the store. With that he greeted the stranger and smiled. "Well I thought I was your sweetheart? Ouch" Peter said dramatically placing his hand on his heart and squeezing his shirt on left

But when I say his full name, Julian Stone, she gasps so loudly that people look over. “ELENA!” she whisper-shouts. “You slept with your BOSS?” “Lower your voice” I hiss, burying my face in my hands. She leans in, her eyes wide with both shock and something close to excitement. “Are you telling me the man who ruined your life this morning is the man who ruined your legs in Santorini?” I groan. “Oh my God” she says. “This is deliciously horrible.” “It’s not delicious, Nora.”

His vision was still blurred from the shock, but he made out the figure dragging him to safety. A man. Tall. Hooded. They stopped once they were deep in the alley, hidden in the shadows. Adrian yanked his arm free, his pulse still pounding. “Who the hell are you?” The stranger pushed back his hood, revealing sharp features, dark eyes that flickered with something unreadable. “I don’t have time to explain everything,” the man said, voice calm despite the chaos they had just escaped. “But someone wants you dead.” “No kidding,” Adrian snapped, his breath still unsteady. “You expect me to trust you just because you pulled me out?”

It was the kind of place where old money didn’t just whisper—it barked orders between strokes, where new money showed up overdressed and desperate, praying someone at the clubhouse bar remembered their grandfather’s name. And for what we were about to do, it was perfect. Anna walked beside me, steady and silent. Her crisp white shirt was tucked with precision into her dark jeans, and every step she took on the manicured gravel paths felt deliberate—controlled. She didn’t ask questions once we pulled past the gate, but I saw it in her. The tension. Not fear—Anna didn’t do fear—but a low hum of alertness beneath her calm. She kept touching the cuff of her sleeve, adjusting it like the button h

“And you know what I hate most in life?” The stranger’s eyes widened as he frantically shook his head, eyes darting to me as if asking me for help. “I hate fuckups.” Ryan concluded as he pulled the trigger, and I could only watch as the stranger collapsed backwards in a pool of his own blood, and a terrified scream tore past my throat. When Ryan turned towards me, I didn’t recognize him. As he inches towards me, the gun already put away, dread engulfed me as I began to crawl backwards.

” The drunkard froze, blinking up at the stranger who stood over him. He wasn’t like the others. His suit was neat, his shoulders broad, his expression carved from stone. He looked like a man who didn’t belong in this place, yet he carried himself like he owned any room he entered. “Who the hell are you?” the drunkard slurred. The stranger’s gaze didn’t waver. “The man who will break your hand if you don’t move it.” The drunkard hesitated, then slowly released Esther’s wrist, muttering under his breath. The table grew quiet.