Wicked Hearts Novels & Stories

I wouldn't let them go just like that. "What are your names?" I question loudly. "I'm…I'm Regina" the pretty one stutters. "I'm Katherine" the other replies boldly. "I'll back to the both of you later. You'll serve as examples to other gossipers. Now fuck off" I say harshly and they both scurry off. The other girl's boldness was something else. So they all think I could have sex with just anybody. That's all I've been doing lately. Fuckkk. When did I start caring about what people think about me? I don't give a shit about being a better person. I enjoy being a bad person. It suits me so damn well. I walk into my hotel room angrily

Malik interjects in their conversation. "Oh please, I heard her husband also fucks his secretary at his real estate firm. They are in some kind of open marriage." Zoe continues. "I heard that sometimes they do threesomes with their conquests." "Nasty, can't imagine those old people doing it. She's like over 50, right?" Jody shivers. "Don't be an ageist." Zoe laughs. "Guys," Linda runs into the break room, grabbing everyone's attention. "Something huge just happened." She starts, before taking time to catch her breath.

The pain consumed her, wrapping around her heart like a vice, squeezing out any remnants of happiness or contentment. A mix of emotions swirled within her—grief, anger, and a deep sense of betrayal. It was as if she had been living in a bubble, deceiving herself into believing that their connection was something special, something that could transcend the boundaries of friendship. But reality had cruelly shattered that illusion, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. With a heavy heart and tear-stained cheeks, Florence turned away from the devastating sight. Her resolve, once fierce and determined, crumbled under the weight of her shattered dreams. She couldn't bear to see him, to face the pain

she whispered, her voice barely audible over the din. "Just stay here," I growled, my focus on the dance floor unfolding into a battlefield. Viktor and I moved like shadows, weaving through the panicked crowd, using the chaos as our shield. We took down two gunmen, their weapons clattering to the floor. But the remaining five were relentless, their bullets carving deadly paths through the air.

Scar The Oak Club is the most exclusive invitation-only club on the planet. More exclusive than Bohemian Grove. More exclusive than the nuclear bunkers under the White House. It sits at the end of a long, private driveway, hidden behind high concrete walls lined with crushed glass and dotted by security cameras. Men in dark suits wander the scrubby grounds between the public world and the private oasis beyond. The scrubland gives way to a gorgeous ocean of green grass, shrubs, flowers, and trees, with the club itself in the center of all that gorgeously manicured plant life.

I reached for the closest thing to my arm - the bottle of cognac by my dresser - and flung it as hard as my anger could carry against the wall above my bed, and listened to it shatter like the pain in my heart. I wasn’t even sure what the pain was about exactly. I wanted to say it was about the thought of losing everything, but then I thought of Valeria, whom I had thought would be the woman of my dreams forever. The box of watches on the table disappeared as well into the floor, and I felt a sharp piece of the glass kiss the small open skin beneath my pants. But it was still nothing compared to the ache in my chest. And then I thought about her. About Helen, and the pain even burned fiercer

Jessi​ca’s⁠ h​ear‌t pounded​ so⁠ hard​ it hu⁠rt‌. “P‌l​ease,” s​he wh⁠ispered. “Don’​t do this. You‌’re a goo⁠d man‌. This isn’t you.” ​William’s face ha‍rdened. “⁠Your husband‌ took what was mine​. So⁠ no‍w I’m taking what’s his.​”‍ Her breath caught. “No… please… Willi⁠am…” “And you,” he sai⁠d quietly, eyes dark, “you belong to me n‍ow‍.”

Will turned back to her and said, “Don’t get me wrong, I know I should stay away from you because people like you shouldn’t be with people like me. I know that people like me don’t get the chance to be truly happy, Una. Because people like me get locked up and rot to hell. But for you, just to be with you, Una, I will risk it all.” There was so much pain in Will’s voice, she thought she might just concede and welcome him back in her arms. But the things she read in his journal brought back the hatred she felt. Will killed a lot of people. Will could cry and beg but she wouldn’t really know if it had to do with actual remorse. No, she couldn’t let his state of misery and a promise of complete

After a few moments of speaking and clicking her tongue to her teeth, Weaver dropped her palms to the hearts, clutched them up tight in her grip and pushed them over close, nearly bumping them together. “Arise, tribes of Pictdom,” she hissed, not seeming to care if any heard her, but her voice echoed out of the woods so loud quite a few standing took a step back. They all looked about, unable to understand how her voice came out so thunderous and rolled across the dell. “We will march on this morning, thousands of hearts, but one beat.” She then dashed the hearts together, causing her apprentice to jump and Tancorix to step backwards out of the grove. Her hands ground the hearts collectively

5 G lateral at the top, the blood pooling in the wrong chambers, the arrhythmia that could be triggered by exactly this stress, in exactly this body, his body, Arthie's damaged heart. He had watched Eau Rouge on screens for years, the analysis that was professional interest in extreme physiology, the fascination that was abstract because the drivers were abstract, statistics, probabilities. Now he watched it through the window, the track visible below, the cars that were specks becoming violence becoming beauty, and the speck that was Arthie was specific, particular, the damage that was his to know intimately, to monitor continuously, to fear particularly.