What Does Jeff The Killer Look Like Novels & Stories

“I don’t care if he’s half-dead.” Rigor nodded and left. I sat back, smoke curling around me as I tried to steady my thoughts. That shipment cost me millions. Worse …it made me look weak. And The Killer thrives on that. The door opened again. They dragged the survivor in. What was left of him. One leg gone. One eye missing. Both hands severed, clean cuts, precise. Surgical. The Killer signature. I didn’t flinch. “Did you see his face?” I asked calmly.

Inside the empty elevator, there was only one person. Jeff. The heir to the Arkan Group who had nearly lost his life the night before. Yet, his appearance this afternoon was a far cry from the stylish, arrogant man who had flirted with Luna or charmed me on the fifth floor. Jeff looked completely disheveled. The moment his eyes caught sight of me standing at the elevator door, his entire body jolted violently. Cold sweat instantly drenched his deathly pale face streaming down his temples. His eyes widened, filled with pure trauma and such intense fear, as if the muzzle of Skyden's gun from last night were pressed against his temple again the moment he saw me.

As if reading her mind, he repeated the exact words that had just passed in her mind. “Yah I agree. I cannot even confirm if it was a male or female. Personally, I would opt for a male. But I’m not even sure of that.” “But you can give at least a hint. A clue or anything you can remember?” Trying to replay the sequence in her mind, she frowned as she focused on the part where the killer had appeared. He had been covered from head to toe; and it was really difficult for her to discern whether he had been a male or a well-built female.

She told him, "And you are arrogant." "Really?!" He asked staring at her, "You are only describing yourself and plus you are dubious." She said nothing. She stared at him for a while. He was tall. He towered over her but she wasn't sure how tall he was. His hair was brown. She didn't know the length, she wanted to peek behind him to know how long it was. He had dark orbs, a pointed nose and nice lips. His skin was beautifully tanned. She thought he looked like 'Jeff' from 'can't buy my love' but the tanned Jeff.

Even after all this time of wanting to get close to him, my mind went completely blank at the sight of him. He looked just as handsome as I remembered, a kind of effortless charm about him which perfectly masked his true identity. He was wearing black joggers, a dark grey sleeveless hoodie and his headphones were slung around his neck just like Rafe. I couldn’t imagine someone like this being a ruthless killer. It just didn’t make sense. But I’d done my research, and I knew that Adrian DeLuca was one of the most dangerous men in the country. And he was making his way towards me.

he said and took a pause. “Tell me about the man.” Mr. Jones said as he put down my phone on the coffee table after scribbling a few words in his notebook. I took a deep breath, willing myself to focus. “He was tall, over six feet, with a lean but muscular build. His hair was dark, almost black, and cropped short. His eyes were dark and cold, almost lifeless, which made him even more terrifying. He wore a black mask that covered half his face so I do not really know what he looks like.” I answered.

"That's Jeff's area." Amy's eyes followed her friend's nod. There he was. Jeff. He dominated the leather booth like he owned the entire city. Tall, at least six-three, with broad shoulders that strained against his black button-up shirt. Tattoos crawled up his neck and over the backs of his hands. His jaw was sharp enough to cut glass, and his dark eyes scanned the room like a predator. Whispers floated around him—mobster, king of the underground, dangerous as hell. Their gazes locked across the crowded floor. Amy's breath caught. Heat rushed through her body, pooling low in her belly. He didn't smile. He just crooked one finger, slow and commanding.

It’s pretty much a uniform in this pack. Killian should look basic, but he doesn’t. His shirt clings to every defined muscle, and like his gargantuan wolf, he’s in a whole other weight class than the other males. His jeans hug his thighs, and they’re more solid, too. His sculpted shoulders are broader, his posture more arrogant, his dusky blue eyes flintier. Every angle on his face is harsh. His nose is crooked, his Adam’s apple pronounced, his lips a slash. Even when he smiles, they barely curve.

So maybe it's better that he is not here. “So, here’s the things we know about the killer. Firstly his targets are all renowned and prominent men in our country. Until now he has had three victims. Mr. Arik Watson- 48 years old. Estimated time of death 1st April 2020, 3.30 A.M. He was a prosecutor who won several awards for bringing justice to the people. Dr. Robert Jonson- 54 years old. Estimated time of death 12th July 2020, 3.50 A.M. He was one of the best general surgeons in our country. Mr. James Brown -50 years old. Estimated time of death 23th January 2021, 3.45 A.M. He was the founder and the Chairman of J.B. Garments company.” And with that, Mr. Anderson gave each of his teammates

Jeff probably won't hear it. I was not too fond of Jeff. He was a slender man with blonde hair that glistened when exposed to the sun. His face was oval with round eyes, and he was one year younger than my dad, I think. His eyes were sliced ​​gold, and he always looked at me with a troubling gaze. It was as if he was stripping my body with those eyes.