Scream Richie Novels & Stories

I could make millions in the blink of an eye, bitches. [Throwing a fit against the Blancs and severing your ties with them. 5-Star Madness. Reward: 150,000,000 dollars.] [Your first quest has been completed. Rewards for completing the Newbie Challenge: An ultra-luxury apartment in the heart of the city and a luxury car parked outside the hotel.] My heels echoed through the silent banquet hall as I walked toward my freedom without sparing anyone a glance. … A blazing red sports car waited outside. I reached into my purse and found the keys already inside.

Apparently, the one man I am looking at right now. "I don't mean to sound rude, but who are you to give me a job in this big organization, huh? " I heard the secretary let out a deep gasp after I uttered this. "How dare you?" She said, but I paid less attention to what she said and more to what this man had to tell me about himself. He smiled and placed both his hands behind his back, raised his chin, and straightened his body before saying a word. "I'm Mr. Fernando, and I am the founder of Scream TV!" he said.

her voice was loud due to the music blasting in their ears, “You do like him!” “I don't, Mia, stop.” Tammie groaned, slightly dizzy. While they talked about everything else, a young man placed his hands on their table, his eyes roaming Tammie's petite face, “Hey, beautiful.” Tammie raised a brow, “Hey?” The young man sat next to them, leaning towards Tammie, “You look dazzling, my lady. I'm Ethan Grey.” he said, stretching his hands for a handshake. Mia stared at him, rolling her eyes in disgust, “Lame.” she breathed.

“I’m glad you two could make it.” “We wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Khloe answered. “Great. I’d like you to meet my friend Richie.” He moved back toward the large round table where his friend was sitting. “Richie, these are the beautiful ladies I told you about.” Richie offered a boyish smile that matched his blonde hair and blue eyes. He looked like he would be a mischievous guy and a womanizer. The way he was eyeing Julia and Khloe told me he was very interested in both. It wasn’t unusual for that to happen.

Hearing that chilled voice, he nodded and turned around back in the rain to complete the work as soon as he can. Mr Alan Richards, a twenty three year old model is the scariest creature in the underworld. No one knows that the man who portrays in advertisment on the television is someone who runs this dead grave drug business at night behind the scenes. Alan had inherited a lot of illegal businesses from his family, modeling was something that he wanted to do out of passion.

_ —Rihanna My heart flew into my mouth, and I started to gaped for air. My eyes remained glued on the screen, and I watched as the message disappeared like it was never there, but the message had been passed. I had till the 11th, three days time, to raise that amount. Or I'd lose the only person I had left JACK After series of failed torture to get the exact full truth out of me, I was set free—with my body damaged. But I dare not let Bella see this, she had already gone through a lot already

3. JESSICA'S POV I stood there frozen in the doorway, the scream still burning in my throat. Richard yanked himself back so fast his cock slipped out with a wet, obscene sound. It bounced heavy between his legs, rock-hard and shiny with baby oil. The other guy dropped flat onto our sheets, breathing hard. “Jess… I’m sorry,” Richard said immediately, his voice shaky and small. He didn’t even try to cover himself properly. His face was flushed, eyes wide with panic.

I begged again, but this time I need to level up the drama, so I intentionally peed on my pants. "Oh my gosh! Skye! Are you out of your mind? Why did you pee on your pants?" Aunt Noora screamed out of her lungs alerting Uncle John. He opened the car's door near me to see what happened. He could not believe what he is seeing and just covered his eyes with frustration.

My eyes fly open and I jackknife in the water, submerging to my neck, heart slamming against my ribs. Richard is standing at the edge of the pool. Grey sweatpants slung low on his hips, no shirt, arms folded across a chest that has no business looking like that at fifty-one. He’s holding a glass of whiskey and he’s looking at me with an expression I can’t read. “Mr. Calloway, I’m so sorry, I should have asked—” “Richard.” He takes a sip of whiskey, eyes never leaving me. “And you’re fine. Pool’s there to be used.”

I forced a wide, fake smile across my lips. ‎Someone give me an Oscar already. ‎Richard’s brows furrowed, suspicion flickering in his eyes. I quickly changed the topic before he could linger on it. ‎"But... Richie, why are you just coming now? Where were you?" ‎He rubbed his temples, like a man fighting off a migraine. ‎"I went to meet an investor. Someone called and said Jessica was in the hospital," he muttered, barely looking at his wife—his tone cold, detached, as if he didn’t care whether she lived or died.