Jared Donalson 소설 & 이야기

He protested, raising his voice as if he wanted the whole neighborhood to hear him. "Keep your voice down or you're going to fucking regret it," Don warned. "So you are going to call her right now and I am going to tell her that it is urgent and that she needs to come here at once because you have taken advantage of my daughter." "I don't think she is in town, sir," Jared said. Was he lying again? Well, that wouldn't a problem anyway. "You don't think? Sounds like another lie to me. Maybe we should get your feet and hands bound. Right? The fact that you are free is giving you a lot of mouth space. Yapping. Making you feel happy when you should not be."

Her eyes darted to the crimson stain on Donald’s chest, realization slamming into her like lightning. Kara’s knees almost gave out as Donald collapsed to the ground. His blood pooled fast beneath him, soaking through the dirt. “Donald.” she dropped to her knees, her voice cracking as she tried to keep him awake. “No… no, no, please… keep your eyes open.” Her tears blurred everything, but she could see his lips moving faintly, as if trying to say a name. Jairo stood frozen, his eyes fixed on Donald’s lifeless form. His jaw clenched so tightly it ached, his chest burning with rage. His world had already seen enough blood, but this… this hit too close.

On the other end, Jared was silent for a moment, perhaps mourning his daughter, or the power slipping from his grasp. Then his voice came, low and brittle. “…Yes. I am ready.”

“Good morning, Jayden sir. You… you have a visitor.” Jayden’s eyes narrowed. “Visitor?” Athena turned to look at him, confused. “You expecting someone?” Jayden shook his head. “No. Let them in.” The staff nodded and left. Seconds later, the door opened. And there he was. Donald. Tall. Arrogant. Wearing a smug grin like he owned the world. “Well well well… if it isn’t Jayden James Bruno,” Donald said, stepping in like he was on a red carpet. “Feels good to be in the Almighty Jayden James Bruno's office.”

The door open, snapping my attention to it, my spirit dropped when John came in. I was hoping it was Marco sneaking. “Donna.” He stared, was confirming the bullshit the journalist has said. I shook my head, swallowing the thick lumps that have formed in my throat. “Where's Marco.” My voice broke, “I ask a question.” I demanded when he didn't say anything. His stare was fixed on the floor, I saw him fisting his palm and his body shook as if he were holding back his emotions. “Don is dead.” Even is voice was more broken than mine.

After what felt like an eternity, Sofia saw a faint light ahead. They emerged into a small, musty garage. Luca wasted no time, moving to an old car covered in a tarp. As he uncovered it, Sofia gasped. "Is that..." "1967 Shelby GT500," Luca confirmed, a hint of pride in his voice. "My father's prized possession. And our ticket out of here." As Luca hotwired the car, Sofia kept watch, her injured arm cradled against her chest. The wound stung, but the adrenaline coursing through her veins dulled the pain.

"I won't deny it, I was rebellious in my teens and in protest mode I burned an important family heirloom, and they punished me for that. From there I have you're wounded." "You're a pretty strange person." "I know, but I always aspired to be fair and avoid trouble with crazy people, but they seem to haunt me." Jared took my hand and looked at me. "You look good, you looked like a tomato before, but don't touch your face." What he was telling me didn't make me feel calm, I was still afraid of what could happen with Jeison and the university, but Jared talked to me about it. "Well, the mob won't bother us anymore. Because of what Jeison did to your face, they beat him up, and they will tell ev

I nodded. “Thank you for that. Have you found out anything yet?” He shook his head. “No, Felix and Cornelius have been working on it.” I looked at him confused. “Why are they working on it?” He looked over at Lynn and she nodded at him. “Jensen, Cornelius is the Don of the Roman mafia. He is the reason why we were able to save you.”

Curling up in the chair, I waited for both of them to steep. After breakfast, I stretched on the front porch. Deciding to see how much wood I had and what I would need to cover the living room floor, I heard a vehicle come down the dirt path. Looking at my watch, it was six-thirty in the morning. I gawked openly as Desmond stepped out of his Jeep. He was wearing a black t-shirt, jeans, and boots. His hair was messily combed back and even his beard wasn’t combed through. My heart hammered in my chest at the sight. The shirt pulled tight against his muscles and the jeans actually showed the shape of his legs, confirming he absolutely did not skip leg day. Nasir jumped out of the Jeep and ran t