Arthur Blank Ring Of Honor Novels & Stories

On her left hand, she wore the Vance ring. Evelyn stared at her reflection in the mirror. The doors behind her creaked open. Arthur walked into the suite. His eyes locked onto her reflection in the mirror, darkening with a possessive intensity. He walked up behind her, his hands coming down to rest against the bare skin of her exposed shoulder. His thumbs dragged slowly across her collarbone, just above the sapphire collar. "They are expecting a victim, Arthur." He leaned down, his jaw brushing her hair, his eyes fixed on the ring on her hand.

"My father gave this to my mother when they first came to this district. It is a token for the person who holds the keys to the house. I want you to wear it, Arthur. It means you belong at my side, no matter what happens outside these walls." Arthur felt his heart completely stop beating. He stared at the gold ring, his vision turning blurry as the room seemed to tilt around him. The irony was a cruel, crushing force that made him want to scream out the truth right then and there. Andreas was giving him a token of ultimate affection and protection, crowning him as his partner, while the code to let the executioners into the building was sitting in Tobi’s hands. "Andreas... I can't," Arthur c

“Mom! Come!” I joined them. We played some silly ring toss game Arthur insisted on. I missed every throw. Vieri cheated shamelessly and still lost. Arthur declared himself “champion of the world.” “Arthur!” One of his classmates ran over with his parents. A young woman and a tall man with glasses. “Hi!” the woman smiled at me. “Your son is very smart. He helps everyone in class.” My heart swelled. “Thank you. He talks a lot at home too.”

The convoy resumed its journey, tires crunching over the bodies in the road as if they were nothing more than particularly large potholes. His phone, resting on the leather seat beside him, suddenly lit up. The caller ID made his jaw clench. **Son calling...** "This son of a bitch," Arthur growled, snatching up the phone and accepting the call. "How are you, Dad?" The voice on the other end was young, confident, with an undertone of mockery that made Arthur's blood boil. "Did you receive my birthday present earlier? How was it? Did you like it?" Arthur's mind flashed to the package that had arrived at one of their safe houses—a severed hand wearing the Nicastro family ring, a traditional sig

His smile turns deepens like what he is about to say will cut. “You’re nothing more than the tool he used to punish Katya. That’s all you ever are.” His gaze flicks down to my hand. “Even the ring you’re wearing? That is Katya’s.” I open my mouth. But nothing comes out. My throat closes, and the words won’t move past it. “So when the punishment’s over,” Arthur says, “where does that leave you? With nothing.” His hand darts forward and yanks the jeans from my grip.

I don't think it's going to be difficult, considering that Arthur also always wakes up at 1 pm so there won't be a lot of orders. But why do I feel like he's going to ask me something weird? Crap, he better don’t do that. “Arthur, you can’t do it to a patient” I smile at him, try to convince him that I will be a bad errand type. “It’s okay, only me who knows it. Plus, I can keep a secret” he winks. “Asshole, go away!” I answer immediately. His laughter filled the room, he must be happy that he successfully teases me. What a jerk. Arthur opened the plastic bag and took out one orange from there, he slowly peeled the skin and cleaned it before handing one to me.

It was a live feed from the cliffside mansion's courtyard. The Peacekeeper gunships were no longer circling. They landed, their engines idling. The soldiers weren't searching the rubble; they were standing in a perfect, motionless circle around a single figure sitting on a stone bench. It was Arthur. He was holding his head in his hands, but as the camera zoomed in, we saw his eyes. They weren't his usual fading blue. They were glowing with a solid, unchanging black—the same color as my dead "Sync" band.

He gently took her left hand, lifting it softly between them. "Vivian," Arthur said, his voice deep, clear, and vibrating with profound emotion. "When you came into my life, you brought truth, warmth, and hope. This ring is a symbol that my heart, my soul, and my future belong entirely to you." With steady, reverent fingers, Arthur slid the delicate band onto her ring finger, right beside her sparkling engagement ring. It fit with flawless precision, warming against her skin. Vivian looked down at her hand, feeling a surge of pure, overwhelming happiness overflow her chest. She picked up the larger, solid platinum band threaded with gold, looking up into Arthur’s dark brown eyes.

My father's ring. “It's a family emblem.” Arthur saddled up beside me as I cradled the object in my hand. A couple of seconds passed before he added. “Don't you think it's dangerous?” “Maybe.” I shrugged. “But I still have to keep it. “ “You can't.” Arthur shook his head. “It's dangerous and you know it. You should be trying to look out for yourself.” “I am.” I nodded, holding on tightly to the ring. “to prove that to you, I'll have to keep it but I'm promising you that I'm not going to wear it.”

Arthur nods slowly with understanding in his eyes. “So this is about a fresh start.” I smile faintly. “Exactly.” For nearly thirty minutes, Arthur brings out various engagement rings. Classic solitaires. Modern halo settings. Minimalist bands. I appreciate them, but none of them feel right. They are either too plain, too flashy, or too cold. Jen isn’t cold. She is warmth, softness, and strength all wrapped together. Arthur notices my hesitation immediately.