Zoe Osama Wikipedia Novels & Stories

Then I turned my eyes towards Zane, and I was shocked to see that he had a murderous look on his face which made me come out of my haze and walk towards the kitchen mindlessly. What the fuck just happened? And why did Zane look at the stranger like he wanted to kill him and me both? After a few minutes, the brown haired guy came to the back kitchen with a warm smile on his face. He looked Moroccan or from somewhere with the sun. Because he had tanned skin that would make a male stripper jealous. I looked at him with a shy smile as I said, “Hi, thanks for helping me but who are you?” His smile widened as he replied, “I am your new boss and the new manager of Joy’s.”

I will never be Stefanos de Vesilios again. -Zohara

And still, there was no sign of Hooriya. It irked him that the f*cking boss of viper was letting his men writhe in pain just like that. He didn't care for his men or his aim was far more valuable. It was obvious Usama was working under someone. He wasn't the boss. The f*cker has no guts. But Usama works under that f*cking boss. It was in the morning when he got the news that Usama had left the country on a private jet with a woman. From links, he found out that Usama was going to sell Hooriya off to the Mafia in Azerbaijan.

"Stays between you, Valtherion, and me. No one else sees it until we've identified the leak." I looked at her. Zoe. Former Omega, written off as too weak to matter, now running the intelligence infrastructure of the largest wolf alliance in history with a tablet and a terrifying mind. "Do it," I said. She was already walking out the door. "Started an hour ago. I was being polite by asking." The wait was the hardest part. Two days. Two days of maintaining the charade. Holding briefings where I delivered false information with a straight face, watching the people I trusted and looking for the crack.

Ayaan said eagerly. “She is the one I told you about,” Faizan said. Zoe had her eyes all over Ayaan while Ayaan listened to what his friend was saying. “She is Zoe McDonald, a Mexican. She’s a hot chick and can help us execute our plan,” Faizan introduced. Ayaan turned to Zoe. “Nice to meet you, Zoe. Can you truly carry out the plan? It’s that delicate and risky and I don’t want hiccups,” Ayaan said straight forward.

as she got into the car. “Sweet friends, you’ve got.” “Who the hell are you? How do you know me?” “As you read in my card, I’m Dr. Zaffran. Half Canadian, Half Irani. I’m a research scholar at the SRO.” “What’s the SRO?” "An organisation," "Of what?" “You will come to know in due time, when and if we are convinced that you can be trusted.” Zehra raised an eyebrow. “I see.” “Ms. Mahmood–”

Oscar gritted his teeth, his face twisted ferociously. I pushed him aside and headed to the parking lot. He shouted, "You'll see what I'm capable of!" Someone cried out, "Casper, watch out!" I turned around and found Zoe lying on the ground, blood gushing from her gut. Oscar gripped a gleaming knife, its tip dripping red. I realized Zoe had taken the hit for me. "You all deserve to die!" Oscar cackled maniacally, his eyes unfocused. "I'm top-tier, and you reject me? Go to hell!"

Not anymore. Zoe sighed, pushing aside the thoughts that threatened to linger. She had a job—a real one. She wasn’t just Adonis Walter’s contract wife. She was Zoe Powers, a five-star therapist. Reaching for her phone, she decided that if this so-called honeymoon was already a disaster, she might as well get back to work. She scrolled through her messages, checking for new clients. Most were familiar—high-profile names she had worked with before or new referrals. But one stood out.

The thunderous warning instantly sent shockwaves to the reporters spine as they turned towards each other. Some microphones lowered. Even the aggressive camera operators paused for a brief moment. The atmosphere shifted. Nobody doubted that Oscar Wesley possessed both the influence and financial power to carry out his threat without hesitation. From her hidden position, Zoe watched everything. Her smile widened. Her eyes glittered with satisfaction. She had already achieved exactly what she wanted. The reporters had attacked Petra. The scene had become public. That alone was enough. Without attracting attention, Zoe slowly turned around and disappeared back into the darkness like a phantom,

whispered Hugo once again. The next split second Zoe turned her head until the left side of her face was parallel to her shoulders. With perfectly rounded eyes, Zoe finally asked, "Are you one of Jamie's bodyguards?" For the first time, after five years Zoe tried to bury —put the name on the list of sentences that were unyielding to say. Today, due to Hugo still-gray-looking motif, Zoe mentions the name of the man she has avoided the most after all this time. Jamie. Jamie Rose Krueger.