Stacy Moretti Novels & Stories

Faith recognized the woman instantly, she had seen her with Sterling before, and also during the hearing. "Sorry, I was expecting Mr. Hunter." The woman spoke. Faith looked down to see the cake and bottle of wine in her hand, she knew today wasn't Sterling's birthday, so__ "I've never gotten a chance to introduce myself, I'm Stacy, Mr. Sterling's assistant. Is he in?" Faith didn't know why she just stood there staring, she didn't have any reason to dislike this woman except the fact that she was extremely pretty and it seemed that she was close to Sterling.

Stacy went ahead, and picked a pair of pliers, and went around the man who was looking at her, he was do empathetic that he could fool one that he was a good person, but this was not the day that Stacy was going to show mercy, she was here to accomplish her mission, and to her, 'mission is the king. Stacy took the heat that she had brought along with her, and placed the pliers in it, she them took the nails, and using her hammer, she nailed his feet on the ground as he groan in pain, at the moment Tracy had already passed out, she could not take it anymore after watching everything that had happened, only if she knew earlier, she would not have gotten involved with any things, and she should

I look at each of them, lingering on Sara and Roman, before I look at the others. “Well, some of you know me, so let me re-introduce myself, anyway. My name is Rebel Moretti-Jackson. I am the granddaughter of Antonio and Teagan Moretti as well as Harry Hatchet Jackson and Deanna Jackson, the daughter of Angel Moretti-Jackson and Ryder Savage Jackson. I am part of the Mother’s Revenge. Which is where you all are.” I say, looking at them. Colton is pleading with me with his eyes. He should know better. “Some of you have been here before or have dealt with this organisation in the past. Some good.” I look at Colton before I continue. “Some not so good.” I say, looking at both Sara and Roman.

When the elevator doors opened, she stepped into a suite that smelled faintly of citrus and betrayal. And there she was. Stacy Bennett. Hair perfectly curled, a silk robe hugging her petite frame, sipping coffee as if the world outside wasn’t burning. “Anita,” she said coolly, setting her cup down. “You came.” “You leaked my credentials.” “No,” Stacy said with a mocking smile. “I sold them.” Anita didn’t flinch. “To Dominic Pierce.” “Of course. You think he just happened to find out where your skeletons were buried? You handed me the shovel yourself.”

[Victim: Isabella Moretti Age: 22 Cause of Death: Excessive blood loss, severe burns, numerous stab wounds and abrasions. Distinguishing Marks: Healed fracture, left little finger, resulting in a slight bend.] He stared at the report, shaking his head in a frenzy. "Impossible... How could she be dead? How can she be dead?" He shot to his feet and sprinted to the morgue, where my broken, ravaged corpse lay. Through the ring, I watched my brother collapse to his knees, his trembling hand reaching out to touch my face, which was now a bloody, unrecognizable ruin of burned flesh.

The photos. The recording. The report. Soon, all of it would reach Adrian. But not yet. Not here. Not while I was still close enough to be found. My assistant turned slightly in the front seat. “Ms. Vale, your flight boards in an hour. Should I shut down the old number?” I looked out at the fading line of New York and placed my hand over my stomach. “Yes,” I said. “Turn it off.” Scarlett Moretti died at her wedding. Stephanie Vale took her unborn child and her future with her.

I was on my way to my SUV when I ran into Stacy. “Connor, may I speak to you for a minute?” Stacy approached me. She looked stunning, as always, dressed in a light cotton pantsuit that molded her curves in all the right places. Her hair and make-up were faultless despite the sweltering California heat. She would have made an awesome luna. She was elegant, polite, and submissive. If it weren’t for her cheating on me, she would have been my first choice. My parents also loved her, but she wasn’t my soulmate.

He was A: an abbreviation of his real name. "Yes, boss." A answered. "But why in New York?" "You're going to keep watch on a belladonna. Isabella Moretti, who's now known as-" "Bella Ryan." The capo man finished, his eyes shining with recognition at the mention of the name "Good, you still seem to remember her." Adriano proudly says. A silently scoffed. 'Did he really expect me to forget Isabella?' He thought. The had, after all, interacted in the past. He was aware of who she was and what they were supposed to be ever since they were kids.

It had dark wood, gold accents, crystal chandeliers, and the faint scent of cigar smoke and expensive perfume. At the end of the grand hallway, she waited. Isabella Moretti, the undisputed Queen of the Moretti Crime Family. Tall, elegant, and devastatingly beautiful in a tailored black suit that hugged her curves. Long raven hair cascaded down her back. Her sharp green eyes scanned my naked, rain-soaked, cum-stained body with cold hunger and dark amusement. “So this is the famous Lila Bennett,” she purred, her voice like velvet wrapped around steel. “The Club sold you to me as my personal trophy. A shared plaything for the entire family.”

like a tired person, she threw herself down onto the couch, her eyes fixed on Stacy. Stacy, her voice shaking, responded with a hint of defensiveness, "Really!? Ha! Nothing happened. That jerk... I don't even know why he came here." She averted her gaze, avoiding Gina's probing eyes. Gina, ever perceptive, sensed Stacy's unease and took swift action. In a gentle yet firm manner, she softly commanded, "My dear Stacy Lu, why do your eyes betray you? Look at me..." With a swift motion, she pulled Stacy down onto the couch, their eyes now locked in a moment of deep connection.