Властный Novels & Stories

'Protect your fat asses you stinky ass, shitty personality, extremely arrogant, ugly faced, terribly smelly and always growling, unmannered, no class mutts because the danger is coming your way. I thought to myself, knowing what I am going to do tonight very well because that's what happens, everytime I visit a club which is more than thrice a week. Yeah I visit this clubs frequently because along with those shitty liquor and fucking drugs, what's sold their is information about each and everything if one offers a good price. Their information is trustworthy and reliable, they maintain the confidentiality of their customers, due to their this terms I prefer letting them do my dirty laundry w

The uncomfortable chair and cheap table didn’t bother him as much as the thoughts running through his head. Armani del Rossi was no ordinary man. He ruled his world from the shadows, the name “Del Rossi” whispered with fear and reverence across continents. He was a mafia lord—a ruthless, calculating figure who commanded loyalty through power and fear. Possession was his creed. Control was his doctrine. And anything he wanted, he took.

When all the doors slammed shut, I turned to the only one that opened: His. Dominus Vane, A man whose influence spread like a malignant shadow, his connections a labyrinthine web of power, and his reputation built on violence and ruthlessness. His money was dirty, stained with the suffering of others, a price paid in broken lives and shattered dreams. And when I couldn’t repay him, he didn’t ask for interest. He took what he wanted. He took me.

Controlled. Just like me.

“Whatever. I’m not going to—” “You will do exactly as you’re told.” He didn’t raise his voice, but when he flexed all of his muscles and commanded all the power in the room, he suddenly seemed bigger, louder, and bolder. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a kind man. I’m heartless. I’m cruel.” He slowly stepped toward me, his blue eyes dark with hostility. “I own this city—and I own you. Fight me all you want. I get off on that sort of thing. But you’ll just make it harder on yourself.”

Kesakten Vampir Segawon. The words seemed to fill the gaze of Hugo who was opening the old book, reading it with growing impatience. These three words, if interpreted literally, mean the magic power of the wolf vampire, or wolvire's magic power. It contained everything a wolvire could do, in this case, of course, an ordinary wolvire.

Juicy was in a rage. She couldn't remember ever being so mad...well, actually, she could. Her rages were a frequent occurrence. But not like this. This time they had messed with the wrong sista. The damned homeless guy had jinxed her. She was convinced that if not for his comments everything would have turned out differently. Maybe it was superstitious, but she knew that people crossed their fingers, and said their prayers and made the sign of the evil eye in order to avoid bad mojo. Well for Juicy it was conflict that had to be avoided. Conflict would take over; sink its claws in deep then leave its permeance, its taint in place of all her good intentions.

Tall and imposing, with a commanding presence that demands attention, he carries himself with an air of arrogance and entitlement. His features are sharp and angular, with piercing eyes that gleam with a cunning intelligence. His gaze is cold and calculating, betraying the depths of his ambition and the lengths to which he will go to achieve his goals. Eugene's demeanour is as cold as the winter wind that sweeps through the forest, his words dripping with honeyed lies and false promises. He moves through the pack with the stealth of a predator, his every action calculated to further his own agenda and solidify his grip on power.

he pauses again. "Like rude bitches",I offer and he chuckles. "Damn, I know what I want to say, but the word eludes me," he sighs in frustration. "Whores that want what they haven't earned",I say as his eyes move to mine",I smile as he looks at me. "Greedy, maybe," he says, and I nod no. "Vindictive or sneaky," I smile at him.

Strong, authoritative, confident, demanding, self-assured, thoughtful, slightly arrogant, and responsible. I follow him into the hotel and notice he's carrying my suitcase along with his. One thing I realized about Anthony is that he's humble. He doesn't flaunt his wealth or treat people like they're inferior to him. And that, in my eyes, makes him the most superior. He could have made his driver or the hotel concierge carry the stuff, but he's not. He doesn't like to depend on others for what he can do himself.