Bart Whitaker 2021 Novels & Stories

It seems like Barrett didn’t pay much attention to the prior comment so she made no fuss about being called as the lady. “I’m thankful for the kind words.” With this Denzell is relieved and escapes the misunderstood rumor about her as his woman.

He hated them. “About Barrett beating the living hell out of Wakely and practically killing her.” He looked at Whitt, who was walking up to us. “It’s all over the news.” I hadn’t thought about the news. Barrett Gilford was a famous, rich guy. Of course, he would be all over the news. “It said that Barrett was arrested and is currently in the county jail. There are some videos of him screaming at the camera,” Whitt said. “Is Wakely okay?” Wynn asked.

He whispers as she nods in disagreement with him. "No! Please? Don't make me forget about you... don't leave me!" He pulls away as Blake holds her hand and looks deep in her eyes. With burden in his heart knowing he's doing it against his own will, he slowly utters his words and makes her forget about Tyler and the attack. Tears fall down her cheeks and Tyler can't stand to see her cry. He turns on his heel and walks away.

He wanted to finish the sentence, to say ‘an unavoidable tragedy,’ ‘a random occurrence,’ but the bitter taste of the truth was already on his tongue. Because deep down, the chilling, undeniable certainty had already taken root in both their minds. James Whitaker was a murderer. And Evelyn had just become his next target. —--- Hunter had just ended a tense, highly technical call with Eleanor, her voice a rapid-fire stream of intel on James Whitaker’s hidden financial conduits and shadowy connections. He was already fuming, the pieces Eleanor had uncovered confirming his darkest suspicions about Whitaker’s past. His jaw was still rigid, his hand clenching the phone like a weapon.

“Do you know who owns Whitaker?” Richard hesitated. “No, Your Honor.” Elena’s lawyer stood. “Your Honor, Carter Industries would like to submit new evidence.” “Approach,” the judge said. Elena’s lawyer walked up with the folder from the anonymous delivery. The one that said _Don’t buy it. Use it._ “Your Honor, these are internal Blackwood emails from 2021. In them, Mr. Richard Blackwood instructs staff to ‘not pay Whitaker’ and to ‘wait until Carter is gone.’”

Today it had teeth. *Sources close to the former NFL star say Whitaker’s recent stint in rehab was triggered in part by lingering guilt over his failed marriage to Lila Voss, the reclusive heiress who walked away from the Blackwood estate fortune years ago. Insiders claim Whitaker has been privately devastated by Voss’s high-profile reunion with musician Lucian Reyes, whose breakout EP “Homecoming” is widely believed to be inspired by their relationship. With Whitaker’s career now in freefall—limited playing time, dropped endorsements, and whispers of early retirement—the question on everyone’s lips is: did losing Voss break the golden boy?* There were photos.

The television in the living room was still on, tuned to a financial news channel. "Breaking news: Whitaker Group CEO Gavin Whitaker was rushed to the hospital today. His childhood sweetheart and top pop diva, Lydia Vale, arrived at the hospital immediately to visit him. The two stayed together throughout the visit and appeared extremely close, effectively dispelling earlier rumors that Mr. Whitaker had married an unknown civilian woman…" On the screen, Lydia looked worried as she carefully tucked the blanket around Gavin. The way Gavin looked at her with that gentleness in his eyes was something I had never once received.

When the period finally ends, people linger near the exits as though proximity to a public scandal might give them a tax write-off. "Ms. Carter." Whitaker gathers his papers. "A moment." Clara mouths, want me to stay? I shake my head. The door clicks shut. "You've been remarkably busy, Ms. Carter." Whitaker leans against his desk with the ease of a man comfortable in every space he controls. He picks up his phone and turns the screen toward me without a word. Photos, dozens of them. The gala, last night's dinner, different dresses, the same man always at my side.

Unless. "Alpha Grayson."

"He would rather leave my wolf and the pups to freeze in the northern drifts just to keep his title clean. There was nothing wrong with his play from a captain's point of view." Mike tapped his own muzzle with his glove. "I better keep my jaw closed about his roster spot. The more I talk about his line, the more your wolf wants to tear his throat out." "My hatred for his jersey is a permanent fixture of this territory, Mike. It doesn't shift based on your commentary." "Got it. Drop your eyes. I’ll wake your line when the runners hit the cabin yard." That evening down in Mysticfall, Tyler Dawson entered the stone arch of the Lube mansion, bringing the raw news of Charles Whitaker’s sudden ter