Voice Of Knuckles Novels & Stories

The knob felt cold under my palm, and as I turned it, his words rang out loud and clear. "For someone who didn't want to hurt me, you sure put a lot of force behind it when you drove the fucking knife into me."

I look back at Skinner. He hands me a small knife; I pulls up my shirt sleeve and cut a small line putting the same pressure Knuckles was and all I do is wince slightly. I wave the knife at him when I'm done. I see Knuckles smirking at me. The skin starts to tingle where I put the small cut and I feel a rush run through me.

With a smirk playing on my lips, I decided to take a shot in the dark, figuratively speaking. "Look time no see, Piero," I remembered this fuckface. "You were the one who helped Massimo to unload smuggled the guns." He sneered at me like he was a venomous snake about to spit. "It's Pietro, you dumb fuck." I couldn't help but chuckle darkly at Piero's correction. Even Enzo seemed to be enjoying the show. I retrieved the brass knuckles from my pocket, feeling their solid weight in my hand. The knuckles were crafted from gleaming, hardened brass, reflecting a polished sheen as they glistened under the light. Their intricate design showcased a rugged elegance, boasting four individual finger ho

The door opened and Knuckles came in. " What do you want?" I asked him. " I'm sorry to disturb you X but we have a problem. " He said. He knows that I hate being disturbed. " Are you going to tell me what the problem is or do I have to shoot it out of you. " I said to him. I hate people who waste my time. " Sir Berner has betrayed us, he took off with the shipment. " Knuckles said with a scared tone, he has to be scared because he knows that I don't play around when it comes to money. I turned around and I punched him in the stomach and he fell down.

With his eyes downcast, Antonio crouched, gripping the gang leader’s shirt, his fingers digging into the fabric. He leaned in, his voice insouciantly calm. "If you make it home alive," he murmured, eyes gleaming with menace, “Dile a Vincenzo que Knuckles va por él.{Tell Vincenzo that Knuckles is coming for him}.” The man gasped for breath, but Blade didn’t wait for a response. His fist slammed into his face—once, twice—until the repeated blows opened a wound, sending crimson gushing down the man's face.

Just then, a knock came on the door. "Yes, who's there?" he asked, but no one responded. This infuriated Mr. Jason, and he sighed in annoyance, then turned and focused on me. "I'm sorry, I guess I have started hallucinating." I chuckled in amusement. "Not at all, sir. I also heard the knock. Let's assume it's caused by the breeze. You know your office is the last on this floor," I replied, and he responded with a smile.

Knuckles turned to see his brother taking the infant and leading the little girl away. “Well, fuck me.” Knuckles murmured. “Soon. When the stones sing.” Chuckling, he kissed her temple. “Not what I meant, babe.”

Knuckles slurred, casting doubt on my claim. Now he’d gone and done it, stirring my anger like a volcano of fury. I threw him across the room, obliterating several tables and knocking down a cluster of guys like they were bowling skittles. My eyes glazed over with hellfire, and the only sound I could hear was the thundering clap of my heartbeat, cheering me on. “Kian!” A shrill voice came as a slap to the face, and I blinked, swallowing hard. Tiny hands pressed against my chest, holding me back. Gentle hands — as frail as flower stems, but as powerful as a blockade.

Rose’s POV “Who is this?” a male voice said on the other end of the phone, and sounded pissed off. “Brother, it’s good to hear your voice again,” Knives grinned, and instantly there was a huge shout on the other end of the line. “Knives! You mother fucker!” he exclaimed, and there were several other voices that joined in on the celebration. Which made a shiver of fear trickle down my spine. Great! His club loved him, and they were going to blame me for his kidnapping. Something told me that the punishment for this was going to hurt!

] I scrolled through the chat logs from top to bottom. More than a hundred messages. Not one person defended me. Not even Howard. He was right there in the chat, silent as a ghost. I dropped my phone and just sat on the edge of my bed, lost in thought for ages. Then, I called my mom. "Mom, I need to talk to you about something." I went over what happened yesterday. There was a long pause on the other end. "She wanted you to mortgage the house for 150,000 dollars?" "Yeah."