Strike 1 Novels & Stories

And it inspired the French to go for another one. Perhaps it could crumble Mr. Frantino's stoic walls, perhaps it would make the man show the slightest hint of hurt, the stance of weakness. He traced the trigger again, eager to watch his assumption in truth but before he could, he heard a noise, a strange one, as if out of nowhere a storm came rumbling, very unfortunately his way. His gaze turned to his left, only getting a glimpse of black shining monster before it drove on his body, throwing him in the air with an unimaginable force, sending his injured self on the height before landing dangerously on the fallen ruined pillar.

Kelvin knew that it was either he was in danger, or it was just some persons trying to get a record of his activities, either way, he hates being trailed. He parked his car in the underground parking lot. He remained inside for a while contemplating what next to do. Should he step out of his car and get attacked, or should he be the first to attack? Just then, he head a tap on his window. He looked up to see a man dressed in black. It seems his trailer has decided to come meet him in person. Kelvin made a sign of the cross with his hand before opening the door. He stepped out to meet the stranger.

"You should have stayed in your place instead of siding with that bitch. I’m pretty sure the scraps you get from the Prime Minister are enough to keep you in check." My entire body burned with rage. This fucking bastard. If I couldn’t beat him with strength—I’d beat him with something else. I let my body go limp, letting my eyes close. Just for a second. Maxwell adjusted his grip, shifting to get a better hold on me— And in that moment, I struck. I lunged forward and sank my teeth deep into his forearm. A sharp, metallic taste exploded on my tongue. Blood. Maxwell let out a low, guttural grunt, his entire body tensing from the pain.

I stepped toward him, anger boiling over. However, before I could get close, Nancy blocked my path. "Joshua, are you done making a scene? If you're not, you can keep going, but we're leaving." She yanked off her black mourning dress and tossed it carelessly onto the floor. As Gilbert walked past, he deliberately stepped on it, then glanced back at me, his eyes full of open provocation. My whole body trembled. The next second, I lunged forward and drove my fist straight into his face.

For a moment, I thought my hearing had failed. In front of a field full of parents, teachers, and elementary school students, Fiona was actually shouting about becoming my son’s stepmother? I finally snapped. I didn’t care about the livestream anymore and swung my hand out before I could stop myself. “Smack!” The sharp sound cut through the whistle on the field. Fiona staggered back from the slap, her thick high heels sinking into the grass. Yet she was smiling.

My reflection stared back at me from the mirror—face flushed, lips parted, tits hanging heavy in the tank top. The first strike landed across both cheeks—sharp, stinging, the leather cracking loud in the quiet room. I jerked forward—gasped—felt the heat bloom instantly. He didn’t wait. Second strike—lower, right where ass met thigh. Third—higher, across the fullest part. Each one was deliberate—measured—landing with a sharp snap that made my skin burn and my cunt clench. I could see it in the mirror—red marks rising fast, my ass jiggling with every impact, my face twisting in pain and something darker.

“Celine, after five years between us, and now you’re using another wolf to put on a show and get back at me? How heartless! “Fine. I admit it. You’ve achieved your goal. “Don’t you want witnesses? I brought reporters. “I’ll mark you right now. Then you come home with me, and we can end this farce.” As he spoke, he reached for my hand. I had reached my limit. The moment he stepped closer, I slapped him. His face snapped to the side. It took him a long moment before he turned back to look at me. The shock and hurt in his eyes were obvious. Something twisted in my chest, but I forced it down and said, word for word, “Alpha Leon, this is the last time I’m saying this seriously.

“She will never figure me out but let her know she’s not chasing shadows anymore. Let her feel my breath on her neck. Let her feel me closing in on her.” I turned to the fire, watching the ashes dancing on the fireplace. “And let her wonder how far these hands reach.” “You think she suspects the council member who just left?” “Not yet,” I replied, looking ahead. “But suspicion is a seed. Let’s water it.” Kara moved toward the door. “I’ll brief the team. The strike happens on the full moon. That gives us five days.” “Make it dramatic,” I called after her. “But clean.” She stopped. “And after that?” I smiled, a slow, chilling thing. “Then we burn something personal.”

“Or fall where you stand!” Another blow landed… HIT! Mira stumbled back, her breath shattering in her chest, her strength slipping further with every second. But still… She stepped forward. Still… she raised her blade. Still… she refused. Until! Ira moved… One final time. It was clean and precise. The strike landed. Mira’s body jerked as the force drove straight through her, stealing what little remained of her balance. Her steps faltered. One… Two… Three…

After catching my husband, Jaxson Larkin, cheating on me for the third time, I end up developing aphasia. Out of guilt, Jaxson spends a month teaching me to communicate using "One" and "Two". "One" means yes, and "Two" means no. No matter what Jaxson says to me, as long as it involves Sasha Fuller, I only answer with "One". When he says Sasha is in poor health and wants to borrow the amulet that my mother left behind to bring me blessings, I answer "One" without hesitation. When he says he wants to postpone our wedding anniversary to celebrate Sasha's birthday, I reply with "One". Even when he brings a pregnant Sasha into our home, I still answer with "One". I even thoughtfully pack