Star Wars Roger Roger Novels & Stories

21. Kat kidnapped Rogue's POV I was back to The Drifters' clubhouse, sitting in the middle of the sofa. A leg crossed on the other, my shirt out of the band of my formal pants. With my sleeves rolled up and back comfortably hovering over the not-so-comfortable couch, I took a sip of my whiskey. The sound of approaching steps caused my mouth to lift. Taking a deep gulp, I looked to my right at Sergey. His expressions told the news he had come here to deliver it before he voiced it out.

Marissa says and I didn't miss the mere second that got Alonso puffing his chest with silent pride. "Are you sure with your decision? Because the day I'll come again, will be the day you regret talking all this. Come with me, little bird. Let's head back home" the guy says, whose name apparently now I know is Roger. He takes a step towards the borders and the entire patrol team and the army are ready to end his life right then and there. "All of this nonsense for nothing," Roger smirks and shakes his head. "If that's what it is, then I'll see you again. It's a good thing you don't know your way back home. You are not welcomed anymore but maybe I'll show you little mercy when I come back next

Roger swallowed hard “I’m an Orwell. We use justice, it don't uses us. I can’t go through a humiliation like being arrested.” “I’m not the type to keep my promises, Roger.” She crossed her arms, staring at her new ally with disdain “Just keep in mind that I won't be merciful if you break yours.”

There was a playground section for the children and a lounge area for adults. Watching your kids play while you shared a glass of wine with your neighbors. I wondered how that must feel. It did seem like it would feel pretty nice. I guessed I would never know. “You can come here on your own time if you want to appreciate the structure,” she’d walked to the entrance and was waiting for me to follow. She vanished into the building and I followed. I still didn’t know why she brought me here but I guessed I was about to find out. “Luna! Good morning” Maurice, the security guard said excitedly.

Ryker mutters, walking away, barking out orders to Ragnar's minions. I turn away from the battle scene, feeling sick. A weapon that could kill an immortal? I shake my head. That had to be the random rambles of a dying man. The look on Ragnar's face, however, when I went back to him was cold and calculating, his lips set in a frown, eyes locked on where the last rogue had fallen. He doesn't even bother to retrieve his scythe, which is impaled in a tree bark a few feet away.

he instructed Max, whose fingers shook as he dialed Destiny’s number and activated the speaker. “Max, do you have anything to do with this?” Destiny’s worried voice sounded, but Roger responded, his voice devoid of any emotion. “Destiny, this is Roger. Sadly, your name doesn’t even ring a bell, but what was done to your men is nothing compared to what will happen to you if I ever see your ugly face.” The call ended abruptly, and as amusing as it was for a man who had been boasting earlier to suddenly show fear, neither of the two men present found it funny.

Not even humans very often. “In you go,” he waved his hand in a swooping motion. “Tell Rodger I said hi.” “Who is Rodger?!” I demanded, staring at the moving image on the side of his house. There was a tall brick building with showboards outside, pictures of men wearing little to nothing in each slot. The neon lettering above the door read ‘BROOM STIXXX’. Was he sending me off to be sold off in some sex club?! “Rodger is Rodger,” the elderly man shrugged. “Quiet. Brooding. Hair like 80s porn star. You can’t miss him. Now, in you go. It may look closed, but just knock. Rodger is expecting you.”

It was a smart play. Then the figure spoke, his voice a low, calm baritone that carried easily across the still air. “Sabatine Stalker. Mr. Rogers sent me. My name is Leon Vartanian. I am his Head of Executive Protection. He’d like you to come in from the cold.”

Robbie's dad's POV ft thought you would be taking the boy with you, sir." Roger said from beside the driver's seat, caressing his beard. I smiled at him and sighed. "How many years has it been since you started working for me, Rogers?" "Six years sir." "And yet you don't know how to play the game? I can't say it's inexperience should I call it lack of common sense or ignoranca?" "Apologises, sir. Please enlighten met

"Hailey, who was that just now?" As everyone speculated, a man dressed as a black-suited assistant got out of a Ferrari, holding an Armani bag. He first went to the director, handed over a business card, and then went to deliver the clothes to Roger. "Mr. Wild?" The director looked shocked at the name on the business card. Roger's face rarely appeared in the media, but his name was well-known in the international upper class. He was a renowned Italian entrepreneur and investor. Rumor had it that Roger's background went far beyond his status in the business world.