Alan Campbell Dorian Gray Novels & Stories

"Do you know –" "Do you want to die today?" Cahir cut him off, his tone low, quiet, warm even, but it sent a shiver racing down my spine. "You have a funny way of asking for death." "You may be a mad Alpha but I am Dorian Greyson." The man seemed to be swelling to twice his size. "I will neither bow nor bend over in the face of tyranny. Do your worst." With that he swerved away, almost hitting me a second time. I jumped away right as he went past me but he didn't go far.

The attack had come just before dawn—a wave of The Mother's creatures testing our barriers. "Healer!" A voice called from the door of the tent. Alpha Elias stood there, his face grim. "We need you. Now." I followed him outside, jogging to keep up with his long steps. "What's happened?" I asked. "Dorian," he said, spitting the name like poison. "He's here." My heart stopped. Dorian. My mate. The man who thought I was dead. Elias led me to the edge of camp where a small group had gathered. In the middle stood Alpha Dorian Graves—tall, powerful, and dangerous. The man I'd loved. The man who'd been twisted by sadness and The Mother's manipulation.

Let her hurt herself? I rubbed my temples, the weight of it all pressing down on me. Laura was poison, but I couldn’t shake her loose. And now, because of her, Ava was slipping further away again. I couldn’t let this go on. Alex was up to something, and I needed to know what. I picked up my phone and dialed Damon's number. “Mr. Campbell,” he answered on the second ring. “What can I do for you?” “I need you to look into someone,” I said, my tone sharp. “His name is Alex Grey, CEO of Grey Empire. I want to know everything...his background, his business dealings, his personal life. Everything.”

MARIGOLD I pace the suffocating cell, reading the bold lettering on the newspaper. In rage that sets my blood boiling, I crumple and fling it to the floor. Still the headline remains burned into my brain: Carlton Stewart spotted dining with Dahlia Campbell. The details portrays them as business partners. As if. They can fool everyone but me. “Snake. She's been waiting for this. Waiting for the perfect moment to slide right in and play the Martyr. Thirsting for that which is no longer hers.”

“I clearly told you to leave.” Ruby’s hands tightened around Camila. “What are you saying? They would have killed you!” “No,” Camila replied, her tone confident. “They would not have killed me.” The door to the side creaked open, drawing all eyes. Two of Hector’s men entered, dragging Don Gray between them. His once-imposing figure was reduced to a crumpled mess, his face streaked with tears and blood. His pleas for death were met with cold indifference as they strapped him back into his former position. His dick or what was left of it, now wrapped in a blood-soaked napkin, hung limply, the crimson spreading like ink through paper.

"Miss Anderson,you'd be staying in my house until you are able to leave on your own and I promise your safety is assured you don't have to feel insecure." "Ok" Camile replied "You would love the place"Elena said "What's your name tyrant father?" sigh this lady sure knows how to piss him off "Please my name is Caleb Campbell" "Ok Caleb" "Shouldn't it be Mr Campbell to you?" "No it's either Caleb or tyrant father. With nothing to refute her with he sighed and the rest of the ride home was silent.

The blood on the bandage around his sleeve had already congealed into a dark brown color. Russell poured the materials from the Manila envelope onto the bar counter. Photos, medical records, and transfer records spread out noisily. "Mr. Moriarty, as you guessed, it was Dorian Lamont who used a black card to spend seven figures. He bribed the crematorium's incineration group leader and secretly took Miss Hammond's body away."

With his arrival, her heart was no longer in her performance. "Rosalie, who is this Mister Kane you're so taken with?" demanded a young man, rising from his seat, his expensive suit doing little to hide his dark mood. He was Elidor Campbell, scion of the powerful Campbell family from Walganus Capital, a man who sought more than just Rosalie's music—he lusted after her. "Mind your own business, Mister Campbell," Rosalie retorted, clearly annoyed at his audacity. Without another glance, she descended the stairs, her thoughts on the reunion that had been years in the making.

“You say you are who again?” Silas Darkthorn questioned his young visitor. Alloy Campbell leaned forward respectfully. Even though introducing himself to Silas was the very first thing he did as soon as he was let in and even though it sort of annoyed him that he was doing it all over again, he didn't mind introducing himself again. He'd heard of how powerful Silas Darkthorn was and how large his influence was and didn't mind the burden of introducing himself as many times as he wanted. “I'm Alloy Campbell, sir.”

“You think you’re going to get answers by trying to beat them out of him? You're just going to end up killing him and there is not going to be good for us to it.” “He deserves worse.” I snapped. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean we waste our energy now.” Damon’s voice dropped further. “Use your head. Not your rage.” I clenched my jaw. Behind us, Carter said, voice ragged, “She called herself Tatiana. She… she said things about Delilah. About power. About what’s coming.” Damon turned slowly. “Spare me.” Carter blinked. “You don’t believe me?” Damon’s expression hardened. “I don’t believe anything from a man who watched us bleed and said nothing.”