The Beautiful And The Damned G Eazy Novels & Stories

I wouldn’t betray that—not for anyone. Damien said nothing, not at first. He just stared at me, his gaze sharp and analytical. Like he was processing, calculating, deciding. His eyes drifted down the length of my body, and this time the look wasn’t clinical. It wasn’t protective. It was different. It was a flicker of something darker. Something hotter. Something that made my skin flush beneath his gaze. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that his presence made my breath hitch. It didn’t matter that my body betrayed me with heat and curiosity. Because I had already been claimed. My heart, my body, my soul—they all belonged to Dante Gallo.

Asher muttered from where he stood, watching as Kaidën fought with the demons of his past. “We are both damaged, Asher Fishman. Why else would we fit so perfectly?” Kaidën shot back, shaking his head, fingers clawing at the mirrors.

Things have fallen apart. Dimitri after having a taste of the naive judge couldn't get it up for anyone anymore. One taste. One taste was what started it all. One taste was what tipped everything over the edge. Dimitri sighed for the upteenth time that evening as he grabbed the hair of the man who was tied to a chair before him and he pulled tight. The man who has a jagged scar running down his left eyebrow to his right chin only flashed him a bloodied smile.

Of course a big fight was going to ensue with Sampson and Odessa winning and living happily ever after. The Beautiful Silence- Jocelyn was finally going to break though Lola's locked memories and find where Gunner was hiding. Since her memories would be unlocked Lola was able to return to her normal life with her second chance mate, Paul. They finally track down Gunner and destroy him. Trinity goes back with Antonio and Lorenzo to their pack and Jocelyn becomes Luna of Quinton's pack.

Damian came back to himself with a scream that had no sound. Rowan was beside him, saying something, his hands on Damian's shoulders, his face pale with fear. Nathan was on the other side, his red eyes wide, his lips moving. Ezekiel sat where he'd been, watching, waiting, his hollow eyes filled with something that might have been pity. Damian couldn't hear them. Couldn't feel them. All he could see was Arabella's face—calm, focused, content—as she cut out a young girl's heart.

Turning away from the scene, Madison grabbed a glass of wine from a waiter that was passing by, and tipped the glass, swallowing the contents although Grace tried to stop her. She was anything but okay and so she wouldn’t stop until she was a bit fine maybe. Her chest still heaving, she grabbed another drink and let the bouncers lead them out of the club albeit slowly. She had given up! She just wanted to get out of this place. ……. Damien felt fire flow through his veins as he landed the final blow on the bloodied face of the last man, and then he stood up kicking hard at the both of them. He was still shaking all over with anger.

"Wait! Look!" Another luxurious car parked and a woman in a beautiful red dress stepped down. She was accompanied by a couple of middle age elders. They looked elegant and glamorous, however, it was nothing compared with Dion and his breathtaking companion. "Miss Grey!" Some reporters shouted at her and Rose smiled at them as she walked. She was not in the mood to talk to them as she didn't come with Dion and they for sure will ask her about it. However, the words that she heard from them were so different from what she expected.

Sky's breath caught for a moment-not from pain, but from something else entirely-a sense of peace and safety spreading through her. In the next moment, their eyes met. They stared at each other for long seconds, as if the entire world had fallen silent around them. In Sky's ocean-blue eyes, there was gratitude, pain, questions, and a deep, repressed feeling she didn't yet fully understand. Damian's gaze was warm, steady, and somewhere within it, gentle-yet filled with an unspoken tension. "Thank you... for always being there," Sky whispered, her voice soft but unmistakably sincere.

Janelle Just then, the door kicked open. I turned to look, and behold right outside the door was Damian Cooper, a line of men stood behind him. His presence alone silenced the room. “No one dares to touch what belongs to me.” “Janelle is mine.” As Ashley saw Damian, she stammered, “legendary Damian Cooper?!” Then she fainted. “Ashley! Ashley!” I called, but there was no response. Then I spotted her eyes twitching.

MATTEO CATTANIO GUSEV. The bastard with golden teeth that resembled dirt and that hawk tattoo next to his navel, the one I was going to take my sweet time with when I carved it off his skin before sending him to hell, and then resurrect him, and cure him back to life, only to go other few shades on him. I was going to make his death agonizingly slow, I was going to make him beg for his demise, weep for the gods to hear his cry, and take him from the gruesome pain. And then I would give him a little taste of life, the sweet taste of fabricated forgiveness, and have him think he was all forgiven, that I had well crossed the bridge and everything was well forgotten. And when he gets used to the