BLUE EYES (COMPLETED)
- Reads 4,047
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- Parts 37
Complete Tue, Oct 18, 20161h 46m
Sometimes what we see is not what's reality.
Rose is just a normal girl. She lives a normal life. She is just a collage girl.
But life can take turns and leave you in utter shock. Same thing happened to Rose.
She never expected something like this. Secrets gets revealed.
Rose Dawson,18 years old completed final semester in university, graduated from lake Monroe highschool ,
Father name Stafford Dawson,mother Liza Dawson, older sister Xania Dawson who is married and having a child." He said looking straight in my eyes .
I stood there frozen oh my god he knows everything about me. My voice banished i couldn't say a word.
"I know everything about you and if you try to run that little mouth of yours i won't hesitate to kill your whole family in front of you and then kill you too." The second moment he said that my body started to burn with anger no one touches my family.
"I dare you." I said how dare he talks about my family like me that. His eyes went dark and furious, i didn't know how i got this confident but i was totally sure pressed a nerve and he was going to pay for it.
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"What are you?" the older man questioned, his voice a chilling blend of authority and amusement, like a knife wrapped in silk. "Your wife," I replied softly, my tone laced with the submission he seemed to crave. "No," he murmured, his lips brushing mine, the words a dark caress that sent shivers through me. "You are my doll, milaya." He towered over me, his intimidating presence both suffocating and intoxicating. The nickname, spoken in that deep, accented voice, wrapped around me like a chain I couldn't help but love. "You are the only woman who is allowed to warm my bed at night," he said, his voice a dark melody, smooth but unnerving. "The only woman who's allowed to step into my office and bend over my desk, waiting for me to come home so I can fuck you." A cold, low chuckle rumbled from his chest, the sound as sinister as it was intoxicating, sending shivers down my spine. ♡ Dimitri Mikhailov, the russian mobster. His presence filled the room like a storm. He didn't have to move or speak to dominate the room. Broad-shouldered and imposing, his scarred face told a thousand stories that he'd never waste words on. He was my husband and I was his precious doll.
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