Three Thieves Red Blend Novels & Stories

I growled rubbing my hands over my face. ”I’m just not feeling it anymore, that's all" I swallowed, my mind racing. I didn’t know what to do in all honesty. I had never had this with any other woman and Blake, it usually worked well but Olivia was different and I didn’t know why. For me, our threesomes usually worked best for both me and Blake. I was there for the sex, Blake was there for the relationship. He was better at that shit than me, could understand women, talk to them and make them happy. I just fucked them and got my dick sucked. Olivia wasn’t like any of the other women we had shared though. For me just fucking her wasn’t enough. I did shit for Olivia I never did for any other wo

Through the barrage, I watched it all unfold in real time. [Tristan lost everything he got from pawning the locket and bangle!] [He's on a losing streak—he'll never dig himself out of this hole!] [Now he's in debt to the casino for millions!] In the end, with no way to pay, the casino sold him to a scam compound in a foreign country called Melaynmere. With his legs crippled, Tristan was forced to use his hands to run phishing schemes. His very first target was me. "Honey, I've hit the jackpot! Let me buy you a ticket. Come join me, and we can live in luxury together!"

" Just as they were about to shove Holly into the car, a frantic blare of a horn cut through the air. The screech of tires on asphalt followed, and a Maybach came barreling toward them. Luke was caught off guard, causing him to stumble back. The car screeched to a halt just five meters from him. Holly recognized the plate and breathed a sigh of relief. Yoel stepped out, his face raging like a storm. He walked towards them with an attitude that spelled trouble. Luke immediately shrunk under his shadow. Yoel only had one mission. He made a beeline for Holly, his crew following quickly behind to deal with the rest. The bodyguards helping Luke sensed that the tide had turned and they immediately

The moon hung low and red above the charred peaks of the Hollow Mountains, its light bleeding across the broken land like a fresh wound. The winds whispered secrets—old names and forbidden truths—carried through trees with bark blackened from ancient fire. At the edge of this cursed place stood Alaric Vellaria Vaelthorne, clad in his long black coat, the silver embroidery glowing faintly in the moonlight. His crimson eyes scanned the twisted forest before him, boots crunching over scorched earth. Behind him, the Black Citadel faded into the fog. Ahead, danger awaited.