Simon Ghost Riley Mga Nobela at Kwento

——— Simon sat on the couch, staring at the screen of his phone, his jaw clenched tight, waiting for the location Elena had sent to pop up on the map. He had left the Gala thirty minutes ago, telling Nina that he had some business to attend to. Of course, she had protested, but Simon didn’t waste any second. Mostly because he wasn’t exactly lying. He did have a business to attend to, and that business was currently on his knees, held by two of his men, bloody and bruised. Simon tossed his phone to the couch and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he fixed his eyes on none other than Richard kneeling in front of him, his lips curled into a smirk.

I was just here to see Simon. My eyes wondered about, looking for Simon. I hadn’t seen him all evening. Last I saw him, he was at the far exit, struggling to hide his trembling hands. He looked spooked. Like a single touch could shatter him. I’d caught his gaze a few times across the room, but anytime I wanted to go close, something always happened. Either my fathers wants to talk, or he wants to introduce me to people who don't know me. Yet. Then he disappeared.

I knew he'd be back to check up on me again, and that's when I'd attack. My ears picked up the sound of footsteps outside, and I readied myself. The door creaked open, and Simon stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room. I pounced, taking him down with a swift kick. He hit the floor, and I pinned him down, my extended claws at his throat. “Who. Is. Spencer?" I asked the question that'd been bugging me. Simon's eyes flickered, but he spoke calmly. “Two words: Crescent Shade.

She shut her eyes and took her shower. If only she had money, she would never have to worry about anything. ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── SIMON Whenever Simon said he was going to do something, he always delivered. He was a man of his word. It was one of the reasons why he was who he was today. If he made a decision, nobody could stop him. Not until her. Zoey. Simon had long made up his mind to not listen to any of her recordings at ‘Compagnon Incognito’ because he was trying to be as transparent as possible and he didn’t want to snoop behind anyone’s back to get information, but how could he not want the recordings?

"Dante said eight. That's eight. We're good." "We're not good," Simon muttered, already pulling out his equipment. His fingers were moving over the small handheld device he used for everything — scanning frequencies, monitoring channels, patching into surveillance feeds. He was the quietest one of the group, which made it stranger when he spoke up. "There's chatter I don't like." "What kind of chatter?" Dante asked. "Encrypted, short-burst. Could be nothing." Simon didn't look up from the screen. "Could be a second sweep team. I want to go around the east block and check."

Gavin shot back his drink and flipped Piercy off as he tossed his head back and laughed. “Black.” Tossing the card over, I took a long breath before looking around. “Simon, show the group that tattoo you got when I was there that summer.” “Fuck that.” He shot back his drink as Stacy died laughing. “It’s a-” “NO!” Simon covered her mouth with his hand. “BUTTERFLY!” I finished, as he looked at me. Instantly, I got up and ran over to Piercy and sat down on his lap. “You can’t touch me here.”

Marcus, the quiet guy from accounting leaned against the door, arms crossed, with a bitter smirk twisting his lips. “McAllen,” he said. “You’ve been looking real happy lately. I see you enjoy your late night with the boss.” My stomach dropped. “What the hell are you talking about?” He stepped closer, I could see the jealousy in his eyes. “ I saw you leaving the private elevator. Looking like a man whose ass has taken some cock. You’re not the first, you know. The Ghost destroys anyone who tries to get close. You’re just the latest toy.” “The Ghost?” I laughed it off, but my voice sounded shaky even to me. “Sounds like some movie legend bullshit.”

His sleeves were rolled up, exposing tattooed veins along his forearms. God. Why was that so attractive? The office itself was dark and masculine. Black shelves lined with books. Whiskey bottles glinting beneath warm lighting. Simon turned suddenly and I held my breath. His eyes landed directly on me and sharpened immediately. The silence stretched for one dangerous second before he spoke back into the phone. “I'll call you tomorrow.” Then he ended the call. I stepped backward instinctively . “Sorry, I was just looking for the kitchen.” Simon studied me silently. His gaze traveled slowly downward. Bare legs, tiny shorts, barefoot. The look in his eyes darkened almost imperceptibly.

And now, when we met again, I was already bones in the ground—and she had become a powerful, influential billionaire. But Nicky was sick. And she needed me. So she came looking for me—the man she hated with every fiber of her being—and unleashed her vengeance on everyone I loved. But I was already dead. Suddenly, Adeline's cold voice cut through my thoughts, pulling me back. "If Samuel won't show himself, I'll just have to turn up the pressure." My stilled heart lurched. The next instant, Adeline gave the order. Her men swarmed my elderly father and hanged him alive—right there, in front of my grave.

His eyes searched the room, landed on a baseball bat, and he grabbed it. "I'll beat you to stupor!" Mabel Cruz went pale and rushed over to hold him back. "Sir, you can't hit the child! Calm down! Your wolf..." "You simp for Sylvia, I simp for Brother Kai. I learned it all from you." Hiding behind Mabel Cruz, I made a face at Asher, then turned and ran for the stairs. Asher stood frozen, unable to snap out of it for a long time. Because he simped for Sylvia, I had to simp for Kai Sterling?