Beckett Leeds Novels & Stories

Upon hearing this, Charles shot a glare at Becky and reluctantly took his seat. Becky, interpreting their hesitation as a sign of timidity, grew even more complacent. How did Becky manage to secure an invitation to such an exclusive auction? "Becky had once held the position of a director in the HR department at World Group before her dismissal. Despite her professional role, she did not possess the substantial wealth often associated with the elite class." "Observing the situation, Charles leaned in and remarked, 'I recognize the man next to that troublemaker. He's Stephen Curran, a well-known antique collector in these circles.'"

"How do you hear these things?" "I know everyone," he says, without apology, because Beckett has never apologized for anything in his life. "Jenna Hart. Or Kingsley now, apparently. That's a development." "She's a contractor," I say. "Her firm is handling the rebrand." "Right," Beckett says, in the tone that means he does not believe a word of this. "Very professional. Very arms-length. Hence why you've been seen buying coffee from that place two blocks away every single morning before seven thirty."

My heart was a frantic drum behind my ribs because I knew I wasn't alone. Beckett, the star quarterback and the undisputed king of this campus, was leaning against the doorway of the shower block. He was still in his practice jersey, the fabric clinging to his massive chest, his eyes dark and predatory. "You're late leaving today, Miller," Beckett rumbled, his voice echoing off the tile. "Avoiding something? Or someone?" "Just tired, Beck," I muttered, trying to keep my voice steady. "Long season."

The nurse, and Beckett. “We meet again.” Beckett walks up to me and shakes my hand, for the second time today. Where is this guy from? West stares at our hands for a few seconds before forcing them apart. “And you are?” West asks. “I’m Beckett. Nice to meet you.” He stretches out his hand but West ignores it. “You’re also taking child development?” I ask. “Yeah, they wouldn’t let me pick anything else because apparently every other elective is full.” “Alright students we don’t have all day.” The nurse calls.

Pass? I looked at him, puzzled for a moment, but then I noticed some sort of card held by most persons around me. Burgundy with gold lines. Most likely the pass talked about, but I had no such thing. Didn't even hear of it. "Don't you have a pass, sir?" The attendant looked on confused, not understanding how. But right then, "This is Eliot Beckett," someone introduced, helping the attendant. Turning our attention. "Eliot Beckett, CEO of the biggest Media Group, Ward Syndicate. H.S (House of Serena) latest business partner. One of the reasons we're here today."

The elders nodded but the fear remained in their eyes as they watched their King slowly slip away and the unholy monster begin to take his place. Jessebelle raised her well trimmed eyebrow and asked, "Who is her?" her face turned down in a frown. The king sighed, having no patience for the vexing woman beside him. And all of a sudden, like a wave it hit him... The sensation of his mates blood being drawn. Any control he had of his beast was gone as in the next few seconds he had trasformed completely with low growl. The elders all stood up and stepped back as the beast ran through the room and out of the meeting hall. Jessebelle stood up her eyes wide with fear and confusion before her knees

Her tears were already falling, yet she didn’t notice it. “Promise me that you’ll only cry when you’re with me. You need to be strong,” Beckett said with a gentle but authoritative tone. “You can’t let someone see your vulnerabilities. They will use it against you.” Beckett knew how the world was messed up, with people fighting for their rights and power more than any zombie apocalypse or virus spreading all over the country. In his years in Milan, he had witnessed betrayal and revenge multiple times. And now, it’s their turn.

Beckham said in a ghastly tone, “Hmph! You’ve underestimated Eden Joy, Master Yarde. What you’ve experienced now is but the tip of an iceberg!” Kayson was unbothered. “I’m not interested. I loathe the way Eden Joy deals with things.” Beckham heaved a sigh and sounded disappointed. “It seems that you’re determined to go against Eden Joy, Master Yarde?” “Ah, I suppose you can take it that way.” The disappointment in Beckham’s expression turned into somberness instantly. He said in a regretful tone, “If that’s the case, I shall take your lives here tonight…”

I waited. Eventually he said: "He knew." "What did he know," I said softly. "That it was not going to be okay." Beckett's voice was very quiet. "He says in the letter that he is not sure he is going to be okay. That the thing he found is bigger than he thought and he is not sure what is going to happen." He paused. "He says he is not scared. He says he is mostly just sad that he is not going to see how things turn out for me."

Beckett looked away instantly, jaw tight, pretending to focus on the paper tray—but his hands trembled. Reyes didn’t say a word. Just watched him for one long, piercing second. Then he shook off Morgan’s hand and stalked toward the hallway. Morgan looked at Lenny. “Follow him.” Lenny nodded and went after Reyes, while Morgan turned to the stunned onlookers. “Get back to work.” And behind them all, Beckett stood very still—sweating, swallowing, and praying Reyes hadn’t seen too much. He doesn’t want to know what Reyes would do to him if he found out he was the leak.