Admiral Beckett Novels & Stories

The camera kept rolling. "That's... interesting," I managed, staying in character. "Anything else?" "Yeah." He leaned forward, his ice-blue eyes meeting mine directly. Not for the camera. For me. "I'd like to know why you're so interested in my reputation when you could be investigating literally anything else." Victoria's voice came through my earpiece, sharp and frustrated. "Stay on script, Beck." He ignored her. "I mean, there's bigger stories out there," Beck continued. "Stories about what really happened. Stories people are actually trying to hide. But instead you're here filming fake dates with me."

“Or what? Freeze me with your billionaire powers?” I leaned forward slightly, keeping my tone calm but deadly. “You mention her name again, and I’ll audit every single offshore account in your department. Every. Single. One. You think it’s a joke, but I’m serious.” His smirk faltered for half a second. Nadira didn’t move. My eyes flicked to hers. She wasn’t panicking. Not at all. “Fine,” Beckett said, raising his hands. “No harm done… for now.” He let go of her arm and backed into the shadow of the alley.

It was evident in her speech. "It's nice to meet you, Zita. I'm Rebecca but you can call me Becky." "I certainly can't, Duchess. The Duke will be furious with me if I address Her grace by her nickname." Zita said plainly, giving her reasons. Rebecca was about to speak with the door creaked open. The Duke stood there and looked at the two. Zita frighteningly had her eyes on the floor and avoided eye contact. Rebecca saw the look he wore-certainly a sign for her to avoid him-and she swallowed nervously.

“I’m right here.” “Well, if it isn’t the hyperactive little shadow.” Voss sneered before letting out a dark, amused chuckle. “I see you’re still there. I should have known you’ll still be clinging to him like a fucking leech.” Beck’s expression darkened immediately. “Unfortunately for you, asshole." Myla looked between the phone and Beck, her brows furrowing. “You know him?” Beck didn’t take his eyes off the device. “Yeah, I know exactly who this piece of trash is,” he spat out, his voice shaking with pure disgust. “He is Commander Richard Voss.”

Adrian reached for his phone and dialed a familiar number. "Connect me to Mr. Hammond." Mr. Hammond had worked with Beckett Holdings since its foundation. It was his company that first signed the deciding contract that put Beckett Holdings on the radar. As such, Adrian knew his character more than he did his other partners—if anyone would answer honestly, it would be him. The call connected after several rings. "President Beckett." "Mr. Hammond." Adrian skipped the usual pleasantries. "I'd like to ask you something." A beat of silence, then, "It would be my pleasure."

“You can’t, even if you wanted to. So let’s not make a big deal out of this. I will ensure you get what you deserve. You won’t ever have to suffer for the rest of your life, Serena. Sign” I just stared at him in disbelief, totally flabbergasted to hear him speak to me like that. No real words leaving my lips to fight back such downgrade, to scream and display just how hurtful those words were! Was he really not sorry at all? Not even a tad bit remorseful? Yeah, I know. I know very well that I was absolutely nothing compared to him. I held no real power or backing to fight, even if I wanted to! He was Eliot Beckett. The one and only son of the great Beckett family! A regal personality known n

The moment she perished, she will be unrecognised. I grope the pocket of my thick and feathery winter coat, on my hand was a bottle of an acid with intense chemical. The moment I poured it on her alluring face, her enchanting beauty will get burn little by little. I gave her a nefarious grin, her eyes begun to shiver upon seeing the bottle of a deadly acid. “Stop Becca! No! Please! Don’t do that! I’m begging Becca! Please!” her clamour resonates throughout the woods, I never see her as petrified as that, my twin sister was like a little girl begging not to be admonished.

Even if it were just for appearances—for the reputation of a senior military officer—he would play the part. The crowd behind me slowly dispersed. West lingered for a moment longer, searching, then finally withdrew his gaze in disappointment. He turned back to me and forced a smile. Without either of us asking or explaining, we both understood what it meant. We walked one after the other into the parking lot. He opened the rear door for me, and I smiled faintly before getting in. Startled awake by the sound of the door closing, the cat sleeping in the seat beside me squinted at me groggily. After a few seconds, as if it finally recognized me, it leapt excitedly into my arms.