Cuando el amor trajo la muerte

Cuando el amor trajo la muerte

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Fiction
Mystery
PRIMER BORRADOR ❗️ De entre un grupo de adolescentes hormonales surge un misterio que supera sus problemas, provocando alianzas inesperadas y amores impensados entre vecinos de un pueblo que, como dice el cliché, era tranquilo hasta que aparece un cuerpo(o dos). Cuatro adolescentes, un huérfano y una modelo intentarán encontrar al asesino escondiendo cuerpos y haciendo sus propias entrevistas, a la vez que se esconden de la policía, les mienten a sus familias, consiguen plata para no quedarse en la calle, graban un serie con un éxito inexplicable, arman un bar en el lugar del crimen y luchan contra sus propios demonios. Novela escrita en formato de guión de cine, dividido por escenas. Cualquier duda que no entiendan pueden hablarme al privado. PROHIBIDA SU COPIA Y/O DISTRIBUCIÓN SIN AVISO PREVIO. TEXTO REGISTRADO A MI NOMBRE, SU USO SIN PERMISO SERÁ CONSIDERADO DELITO. Por otro lado, que lo disfruten :)
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𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐚 I downed a shot of tequila, allowing the burning liquid to slide down my throat and settle in my stomach. I deserved to have some fun without boundaries. I poured a second glass and it disappeared as quickly as the first. Then came the third, fourth and fifth. Still I wasn't satisfied. My landlady was a bitch, I was fired and my boyfriend cheated on me. My nerves were shot to hell! My eyes lazily scanned the nightclub as I consecutively downed my sixth shot for the evening. Life's a bitch. 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐨 𝐆𝐮𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐫𝐨 I sat in the VIP section of the club, a glass of vodka in my hand as I watched the woman several yards away drowning herself in tequila. My lips curled in amusement. The red dress she wore showed a generous amount of cleavage, her ass was ripe and full, begging to be groped. She looked to be eighteen. I wondered what a pretty thing like her was doing in a place like this, drinking like there was no tomorrow. Not that it was any of my business. Women came, got laid and wasted in this nightclub every night. Nothing special to see here. "Muori figlio di puttana." I pulled the trigger on my gun and shot the Mexican in the head after he was caught stealing coke from my warehouse. Blood splattered everywhere, staining the walls and my designer suit. I tucked my gun back in my pocket and left the ally. "He killed a guy!" I shrieked as I turned to run away from there as fast as possible. Just as I was about to run back inside, a large hand clamped around my neck and I was pressed up against a rock solid chest. My jaw was caressed by - a gun!? "Going somewhere piccola?" a deep voice whispered in my ear. "Let me go, you sick twisted bastard!" I growled. "Feisty and a foul mouth. I like it," he chuckled. "You killed someone! I'm calling the cops!" I shouted. "Princess I own the cops," he said, stroking my face, "and now I own you. Say goodbye to your ol

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