A Man Like No Other Novels & Stories

•A MAN OF REVENGE• A man has been wearing his sunglasses to cover his wanted face as he walk under the sun of Miami. Although he never actually cares if his face is on view, he never cares, he's free. Looking at the beach with those amused eyes of him. Watching every people passing by him, waiting for a chance to know someone who could dance with him in his insanity. He's wearing a pair of beach shorts and an unbuttoned Hawaiian polo, his head is secured from sun with a brown beach hat. Sitting at one of the stools while sipping mango juice.

"Common sense should tell you to stay the fuck away from me but you have obviously lost the screws to your brain so your cells are floating around in your head without any purpose." The bastard did nothing else but laugh which made me so mad that I wanted to reach over and strangle him but I held back as the door to the restaurant opened and my unlikely savior walked in looking like he belonged on the cover of a GQ magazine. He was dressed in a white shirt that had the Clothes Over Bros logo on the sleeve of one hand and black jeans that did wonderful things to his muscular thighs then paired with black boots. If he were a chocolate bar, I'd savour him without any rush.

She stepped inside, and her eyes landed on a stunning portrait, there was something about portraits that Elle loved. The painting she was looking at was beautiful, it seemed to speak to her. As she looked at it, a voice behind her said, "Ah, you've found the pièce de résistance." Elle turned to see a tall, dark-haired man with piercing blue eyes. He smiled, and she felt a flutter in her chest. His smile looked to be genuine. "My name is Max," he said, extending his hand. "I own this gallery." Elle introduced herself, and they struck up a conversation about the Portrait, and everything that came up in between. Max was charming, he looked like a really good, witty, and kind guy, and Elle was d

I recall a podcast I once listened to, "Clearly I don't see myself ticking any of those boxes, Romeo." "Then maybe I'm an exceptional man," he chuckles, his eyes flickering with mirth. "Because I want the woman who gives me nothing but pain.”

Then, he would crouch in front of me and grab his ears like a child who was awaiting punishment. This time, he did not budge. I tried to convince myself that the random woman must have gotten the wrong man. Alas, Ryan kept his silence. He fiddled with the hem of his shirt with his thumb and index finger. It was a nervous tick of his. "Maddy, hear me out…"

In the picture, Harold was listening intently to a doctor in a white coat, while Jacob sat obediently beside him. Susan's face was only half visible in the corner of the frame, but she was smiling brightly. The caption read. "I thought I'd hit rock bottom, only to realize a new path was waiting just ahead. I'm so lucky that you're always here." I thought I'd be angry when I saw the post. Yet, to my surprise, I felt nothing. It felt like I was observing two strangers who no longer had any connection to me. I liked the post and commented, "Such a lovely family. Congratulations."

three months ago. Our marriage was like a well-acted movie, perfect on the outside, empty on the inside. Cipher D’Amato, billionaire, tech mogul, and coldest man alive. To the world, we were the perfect couple. In reality, I was just his shadow. I pushed the door into his study softly, and there he was as usual, his head over the desk surrounded by documents and folders, while his glowing tablet was still warm to his hand. His curly, dark hair covered his forehead. Even in his sleep, his jaw was still strained as if something was making him angry in his dream.

Thayer had spent every night in bars, his body deteriorating day by day. To chase thrill after thrill, he manipulated every woman he met, never using protection. Each conquest ended the same way: he disappeared afterward, refusing to acknowledge any of them.