Acción 소설 & 이야기

Alex just realized he had been wrong when he thought nothing could spoil his day, Amanda was not who he thought she was and right now, guns were being pointed at their faces by huge tattooed men. Alex turned to look at Amanda, she looked really shaken and the fear in her eyes were evident, he wondered what sort of crime she had committed to warrant this.

I shrug. “Okay, I like her.” she points to me and looks at Rhea. “I’m Veronica by the way. Veronica Ryan. Grade B.” “Grade?” I raise a brow, confused. “A Grade basically tells how dangerous a person is. And before you ask, the difference between A’s and B’s is that A’s have committed murder.” “But mine is asterisked?” “It’s never been given before but I’m guessing it means numerous counts of murder.” Yeah. That makes sense.

Ace mumbled making me giggle. shaking my head at him I walk towards his room. "what movie do you have in mind?" I asked him softly "I don't know just pick anything I don't mind." Ace replied before walking towards his bed. nodding my head, I scrolled through N*****x before stopping at Warrior Nun. "is this ok?" I asked before looking at Ace. only to find him shirtless, his head titled up as he tried catching his breath. "Ace?, is everything ok?" I asked softly walking towards him.

𝙰𝚌𝚎 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛 7 years old. The brown-haired boy stood there looking at the woman helping her kids choose the toys they wanted. Ace didn't get help from her, he's shy, anxious that she's going to return the ten dollars teddy bear that he brought. His soft small hand clenched the ear of the brown teddy bear, he pouted and with a shaking body, he approached his mother.

Sion didn’t hesitate. While the board members whispered and Arthur Sterling smirked, Sion reached over and plucked the phone from Lilia’s trembling hand. Lilia held her breath, expecting him to hang up or, worse, bark an order at the woman who once chased a tax collector away with a wooden spoon. Instead, Sion adjusted the camera angle, smoothed his expression into something uncharacteristically warm, and leaned into the frame. "Mrs. Moretti, I presume?" Sion’s voice was like velvet—deep, respectful, and utterly convincing. "I’m Sion Wagner. I apologize for the mustard. It was a... very enthusiastic greeting."

all over again. The End.

I can’t breathe. ##########

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