A Man Like No Other Novels & Stories

This man was obviously upset with Max. When we didn’t speak, he repeated, “You’re out.” “Excuse me?" Max asked. "Who the hell are you?” I lowered my glasses and continued to appreciate one of the most perfect specimens of man I’d ever seen. Small droplets of water hung from his short dark hair and glistened against the cobalt blue sky. More evidence of his recent swim coated his defined abs and his wet swim trunks clung to his thick thighs... Everything about this man screamed confidence. Not the cocky kind I'd seen in Max. No, this man wasn't a college kid who specialized in picking up girls. This man dominated every situation. He was a man who knew what he wanted and took it.

He does the waiting while I do the chasing, well miracles do happen from time to time. "You are Miss. Geronimo, I guess? " The big man standing before me looks nothing like Daniel. He is quite tall with muscles the size of meatloaves. There are tattoos on his arm too. I think he looks like a character out of a Super villain movie, only his voice sounds kinder. "I am. "I say. "Sorry, I can't offer a handshake, covered in floor, the job you know, " "I understand. That's fine. "

I'm wearing a mask so he can't see my whole face. "Remove that face mask. Did my people forget to tell you to remove it before entering my house?" The coldness on his voice is chilling me. A man on his personality, indeed. Jevro Gusto is a Malemyn with cold personality. He's also unapproachable and hates clingy person. That... I read that on the news.

He does the waiting while I do the chasing, well miracles do happen from time to time. "You are Miss. Geronimo, I guess? " The big man standing before me looks nothing like Daniel. He is quite tall with muscles the size of meatloaves. There are tattoos on his arm too. I think he looks like a character out of a Super villain movie, only his voice sounds kinder. "I am. "I say. "Sorry, I can't offer a handshake, covered in floor, the job you know, " "I understand. That's fine. "

he asked, walking further into the room. Riyana’s eyes flicked from John and froze. Behind her, leaning casually against the wall, was another man. Sunlight streamed through the window, glancing across his face in a way that made his features sharp and striking, almost unreal. He looked like he had stepped out of a painting himself, every angle perfect, his expression calm but intense. Riyana blinked, slowly pulling her gaze away from Lennox to focus on John again. Her mind was racing. Lennox Ardolf, the name alone carried weight. One of the most powerful superstars in the industry, adored by millions, untouchable in reputation and talent.

“What??” “This man is a bomb, just look at him, isn’t he perfect…mafia and CEO or not but his face alone is enough to make me horny all day and night.” That girl was in a world of her own. Her shameless talk made other girl uncomfortable but even they couldn’t refuse the godliness of this man.

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 am Taylen Nova, underboss of Cosa Nostra. Actually, the future Padrino of Cosa Nostra. Tell the Stidda I don't find their joke funny." Everyone in the room claimed to be Taylen Nova. Was I still myself? Perhaps I had become someone else? "Please describe what I look like." I frantically asked. "Kind of ordinary, your fade hairstyle suits your face. You have black skin but it's not dark. You have brown eyes..." The man started. "What does this have to do with anything?" The woman interrupted. "Okay, so I still look how I'm supposed to," I said relieved. "What, what do I look like?" The man inquired worried.

Better for him, less humans equalled less noise. A deep inhale filled his chest with air, an effort to calm his nerves. The keys jingling in his pocket as he listed woods to let out stress with a early night hunt. "She is strong, but you know she won't survive what's coming!" A man said appearing venturing out of the next room, his voice deep followed by the crunch of the handful of popcorn he stuffed into his mouth. Grey paid no attention till he set eyes on the source of those words.. An older man in a black suit, his aura Full of pride and self praise. His smile present even as he munched on popcorn from the cup-full he held. All his attributes summed to a signature Grey recognized even b

And toward choice. That’s when I feel someone watching us from the other side of the road. Not the cars. Not the men who want control the car. But someone else. “Liam,” I said in a low voice. “Don’t react.” He doesn’t. His grip tightens just enough to tell me he heard. A man steps out from behind a closed bookstore. He’s older. Late fifties, maybe. Grey hair cut short. His coat is worn at the elbows like he’s had it for years. His hands are empty and visible. He looks so… tired.